Everything Must Go

“Perfect.” I didn’t recall making plans to go all the way to the Upper East Side, but it was fine. At least Laine would be with me.

“Perfect.” She leaned in toward me. “Don’t worry, Mom. Going through everything will be fun.”

Would it, though? Because ten minutes later, I was staring at the upstairs apartment and wondering how I’d ever let it come to this. If only I’d kept things tidy in my own place. If only I’d asked Laine to come more often and help me like she used to, rather than waiting for us to tackle it all at once. Now the place was in disarray, and it was entirely possible that once Laine realized what I’d really done, she’d side with Hadley and have me locked up. I’d have to work hard to convince her otherwise.

Oh, Sally, dear girl, silly old fool, I thought as I took in the piles of papers and stacks of boxes. Humans aren’t meant to have so much stuff!





TEN


LAINE

I wanted to believe my mother was fine. She’d been clear-eyed and lucid that morning, and our conversation had been going swimmingly right up until I asked her about Roger and Rohit moving out. Then she’d begun shaking her head and muttering, almost like she was having an entire conversation with herself. She’d come back to me just as quickly, but it was too late—I knew it’d been more than a senior moment. And when I added that to her confusion and scared doe eyes from when I found her in the upstairs apartment, I was forced to admit that Hadley was right, as usual. My mother was not okay—and the three of us were going to have to do something about it before it got even worse.

I’d always done my best thinking while walking Belle. So as soon as my mother went upstairs, I headed out. Now, as I speed walked through the neighborhood in the direction opposite Reggie’s place, my heart hurt—literally hurt, like someone was sitting on my chest. My mother had always said she’d sooner jump off the Brooklyn Bridge than go to a nursing home. But she was only going to get worse from here; what else could we possibly do?

I’d already gone a few blocks when I realized that I didn’t actually want to think through this on my own, and I couldn’t exactly chat with Belle’s urn in the middle of broad daylight. So when I hit Smith Street, I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. I could’ve waved my tattered white flag by calling Hadley, but I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Without thinking about what I was doing, I called Josh instead.

He picked up on the first ring. “Laine? You okay?” He sounded surprised, and no wonder—I rarely called him unless something was wrong.

“Um, not really?”

The low hum of conversation in the background told me he was in a coffee shop. “Is it about us?”

I almost said, It depends on whether you made an appointment with a therapist, but caught myself. “No.”

“Your sisters?”

“It’s Mom,” I said. “She asked me for help, which should’ve been my first clue something was off—she never does that.”

He laughed lightly. “Really? Because I can. She had you running errands all over the tristate area when we were there in January. And who can forget the great bread incident of 2012?” My mother had sent me on a never-ending mission for the perfect loaf of challah. She used to bake it herself when we were children, but somewhere along the way, she’d decided deriding other people’s bread was more delicious.

I started to smile, but then I remembered why I was calling him, and hot tears began forming behind my eyes. “Remember how I told you Hadley said she’s losing it? Well, uh . . .” I ducked under an awning to get out of the foot traffic. That’s when I realized I was next to Georgie’s, the bakery my mother had been talking about. Except, judging from the dirty windows and interior and the cobwebs over the counter, she hadn’t been buying bagels there for some time. Were it not for everything else that had happened in the past twelve hours, that wouldn’t have been a big deal. But now the sight of the empty building seemed devastating. “I found Mom in the upstairs apartment last night after we got back from Piper’s house. It was nearly midnight, and she’d wandered up there. Roger and Rohit moved out, and she’s been bringing stuff up there.”

“Huh. What kind of stuff?”

“She’s been boxing up her apartment, apparently, and trying to organize everything upstairs. I’m going to go help her sort through it later today. And that part is good, as far as I’m concerned. It was the way she was acting when I found her that worries me. She looked . . . confused.” Like she had dementia, though I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “I feel awful, Josh. I’ve totally dropped the ball on her over the past year, especially while Belle was sick.” The last few months of Belle’s life were a blur of vet visits and cleaning up her accidents and trying to make just a few more memories while we still had the chance. Aside from that and work, I’d barely had the energy to put on pants—which was why I sometimes didn’t bother. Calling my mother regularly had disappeared from my to-do list. But that had been a choice on my part. I saw that now.

“Oh man. That’s really upsetting,” muttered Josh. “But you can’t blame yourself.”

I did, though. That was the thing.

“Laine? You there?”

God bless this city—you could cry your face off in broad daylight, and not a single person gave you a second glance. I swallowed hard and wiped my eyes. “I’m here. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Want me to drive out there?” he asked.

“No,” I quickly said. Gah—why had I called him? He was going to think that I wanted to stay married. And maybe I secretly did. After all, why else would I reach out to him? “I just wanted to talk to you before I talked to Piper and Hadley.”

“Seriously, Laine, I can come. You know they’re less likely to bulldoze you if I’m around,” he said gently.

This was true. Four years ago, they’d wanted us all to go to the Florida Keys together, and when I said Josh and I couldn’t afford it but wouldn’t allow Hadley and Topper to pay for us as they’d offered, both of my sisters had acted like we’d just declared a feud. As Josh explained, we did want to see them, but we also weren’t comfortable being anyone’s charity case. We’d ended up going to a place at the Jersey Shore that had turned out to be a roach motel, and I’d apologized to everyone for nearly six months. Still, Josh had been the one to keep that battle from turning into a war.

“No, I’m okay for now. I’ll be home in a week anyway.”

“Good, because I just referred you to someone looking for an organizer.”

“Really? Who?”

“Melinda! She said she needs help with the whole house.”

“Wow, thank you. That would be amazing if it worked out,” I said. So far, I’d only done single rooms—closets, kitchens, garages, that sort of thing. An entire house could be a game changer. Moreover, Melinda was the wife of Ravi Mahadik, who’d been one of Josh’s closest friends since college. Ravi had started a flatbread pizza company, which was so successful that he used the profits to create a Greek yogurt line that had promptly been acquired by a massive food conglomerate. He and Melinda lived in a house that had to have at least twenty rooms.

“Of course,” said Josh.

He really was a good guy. It wasn’t just that he was great with my family. Who else would buy me a lemon cake on my birthday (unlike my mother, who had never been able to remember that I really didn’t like chocolate)? Who would kill spiders for me and make small talk with the neighbors as I stealthily disappeared inside? Maybe my sisters were right about this being a mistake.

There was a silence, but that wasn’t abnormal for us. Finally, Josh said, “Hey, hang in there, okay? I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling weepy all over again. “That means a lot to me.”

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