‘But do you think you would’ve been better? Happier?’
‘Are you suggesting I’m not happy?’ A furtive smile crept onto Claire’s face. She laced her hands over her thick stomach and let out a breath of air. ‘This is quite a conversation to have, after years of not seeing one another. I mean, I was hesitant-I wondered if it would come up-but I thought maybe we’d start out a little slower. You know, what you think about DC, what you like to do for fun, if you know what anyone else from Peninsula is doing. Not, like, serious shit. I deal with angry people who think big business is poisoning our water supply every day. I need some lightness in my life.’ She looked at me carefully. ‘And you probably do, too. You shouldn’t let everything scare you. You should let go a little.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my voice choked.
‘For what?’
‘Just, you know. For things. Everything.’
Claire snorted. ‘Stop it. Forget what I said. I was being ridiculous. And so are you.’ She said it in such a motherly, confident tone, I immediately stood up straighter.
Frannie barreled for us, water spraying off her tiny arms and legs. ‘Dive!’ she screamed, grabbing her mother’s arm. ‘High dive!’
Claire looked at me. ‘She loves the platform.’
‘You let her go on that?’ I pointed at the highest diving board, aghast. The ladder just kept going. ‘She doesn’t get hurt?’
‘Nah. I was scared when she first did it, but we watch her. I had to sign a release, though, allowing her to go off. She never jumps without me watching. That’s our rule.’ Claire started to follow Frannie, her long hair swinging. She looked over her shoulder. ‘It’s actually really fun, Summer. You should try it.’
Afterwards, we went to a diner down the street, ordering heaps of breakfast foods as if we’d just swum for miles. Claire ordered blueberry pancakes, I got an omelet, and Frannie got a Belgian waffle with whipped cream on top. When Claire’s coffee ran low, Frannie marched to the checkout counter and rang the bell for service. When she came back, Claire said, ‘Let’s pretend we’re French,’ and the two of them took small bites of things and said Oui oui and pretended to blow smoke rings, using coffee stirrers as cigarettes. They nuzzled noses and giggled at each other. Frannie even made up a song about me, about a girl named Summer who had a dog named Winter and liked to eat peapods in the spring. ‘Peapods?’ I asked her. ‘Yes, peapods!’ Frannie looked at me crazily, like I was the stupidest person in the world. Claire sang too. All of a sudden, I felt so sheepish for questioning Claire’s happiness.
And when they walked me to the Metro station afterwards, Frannie gave me a hug and told me in a very adult-like voice that we would be seeing each other again soon. When she pressed her head into my knees, a warmth came over me, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I felt like I did after crying-exhausted, and a little foolish, but cleaner. ‘It was very nice to meet you,’ I said to Frannie. I pulled the Bio-Dome habitat I’d bought at the Smithsonian from my purse and handed it to her. I could just see her marveling over the little ant colonies, loving it. ‘I hope to see you soon, too.’
27
A Muppet-like woman on the Weather Channel announced that atmospheric conditions were unusually favorable for a blizzard, with air circulating off the Carolina coast, moisture feeding in from the Atlantic Ocean, cold air damming down south. ‘It’s going to be a big one,’ she said, waving her hands around a map of clouds and arrows. ‘So stock up now. Hit the grocery store. Be ready.’
‘Oh dear.’ My father took a bite of eggs.
‘It’ll be okay.’ Rosemary patted his leg. ‘Don’t worry.’
It was Saturday, and we were at a diner near the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, one of Rosemary’s old favorites. The only things on the diner’s walls were clippings from newspapers that had reviewed it over the years. Someone from Newsday in 1986 thought the egg creams needed some work but that the grits were passable, and someone from New York magazine thought the service was slow, but in all, it got four out of five stars. I stared at the serifs on the word York for so long it didn’t look like a word at all.
Steven, wearing a zip-to-the-chin navy sweater and jeans, checked his cell phone messages. Philip flagged down the waitress for more coffee. He tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away. He looked at me questioningly, but I couldn’t return his gaze. Angie and Rosemary were talking about Rosemary’s gardening book. ‘So you see, I wanted to make the gardens as varied as possible, to give people a range of what they can do.’