Same Beach, Next Year

“Yes, Adam Stanley, and we’re going to live happily ever after.”


He drifted off to sleep, still smiling. Where he went when he dreamed I did not know. But I could tell by the look on his face that it had to be somewhere beautiful. We were a family again. Given a second chance to be happy and productive and in love because of Carl and Eve’s generous hearts. I had so much to tell Adam. But the updates could wait for another time. It was the time to heal.





chapter 21

eliza





2010



Adam’s illness had terrified us. Carl’s gift had purified us. It was as though he had taken us by the hand down to the River Jordan and baptized us. A group baptism and an exorcism. All our devils were gone. We resumed our rightful places with each other with renewed vigor and deepened commitment. There was nothing like staring death right in the eye to wake us up. Everyone around us could see the changes in us, especially Ted, which Adam and I appreciated.

“I’m so glad to see y’all worked things out,” he said one night when we had him over for dinner with Judy.

Ted and Judy had become quite the pair, and Cookie just hated the hell out of it.

Carl recovered quickly and went back to the business of saving children’s lives. As we knew it would, it took Adam longer to regain his energy and strength. I was his home nurse. I saw that he got up and walked in the first days he was home. I took him to all of his doctor’s appointments and had all of his medications ready for him to take when the time came for another dose. And I kept his spirits high by reading to him, watching feel-good movies, and discussing the events of the day. And I began and ended each day with a positive attitude. How well a person heals has as much to do with attitude as anything else.

During that spring, Ted and the boys did a wonderful job of getting all those houses finished on time for the Boeing employees, with Adam consulting from the sidelines and me paying all the bills. Slowly, slowly Adam became himself again. He was so grateful to all of us for the parts we played in saving him and putting him back together again. Carl, naturally, received the largest share of the gratitude pie.

I was in touch with Kiki all the time. She was overwhelmed with joy to hear of the success of Adam’s transplant, and the fact that Carl had been the donor was incredible to her.

“Now that’s a true friend,” she had said.

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

Adam and I were planning a trip to Greece in August, with Carl and Eve as our guests. JJ and Tasha were coming too. And, in a moment of oh, what the heck, Ted and Judy decided to come along.

Kiki said, “We cannot wait to have all of you here with us! What wonderful news! Mother will start cooking the minute I tell her!”

“I can’t believe I have to spend a week with JJ and Tasha,” Adam said.

“Don’t you dare complain,” I said, and that was the end of that.

I was so happy to have my boys home with me. I wasn’t lonely at all. And no one ever heard a peep from me over having mountainous laundry to do or more mouths to feed. They loved being home too.

“I never realized how much you did for me until I had to do it all myself!” Luke said.

Max said, “Duh.”

Suddenly it was summer and we literally had to push Max and Luke out of the house and back to college. They didn’t want to leave us. Maybe they were afraid Adam would take on too much too soon and that something might happen to him. For the first time in their lives they’d had to reckon with the fact that they wouldn’t have us forever.

I was making waffles one morning in May, happily stirring a compote of blueberries in a pot to pour over them. They were at the table with Adam, drinking coffee and reading their favorite morning newspapers on their iPads. Another sign of their adulthood.

“You know, Dad,” Luke said, “I could just stay here and we could run the business together.”

“You need your degree,” he said.

“Oh, come on,” Luke said. “I’ve been training for this job all my life.”

“You need your degree,” Adam said again in his most serious parental voice.

Luke mimicked him in an even deeper voice, saying, “You need your degree.”

Max laughed, then Luke laughed too.

“I think Luke’s got the picture, Dad,” Max said.

“Good,” Adam said.

In May, Adam got the okay from his doctor to resume full-time work, and it was time for the boys to go. They went back to Atlanta and Raleigh and Cookie embarked on her first cruise.

Cookie was testing her plan to live on cruise ships for the rest of her life. It didn’t work out exactly the way she hoped it would.

“She came home yesterday and said she’d never met such inhospitable people in her entire life,” Eve said. “She told me she’s suing the cruise company and she wants her money back.”

“Good grief! What happened?” I said.

It was a couple of weeks later, and we were having a barbecue at Ted’s house. Carl and Eve had come for the weekend and were staying with us. We were standing in Ted’s backyard watching him baste four racks of baby back ribs. Judy was bringing potato salad and mac and cheese but had yet to arrive. And I had brought my grandmother’s photo album and all my pictures to show them so they would have an idea of what to expect when we got to Dassia.

Eve said, “Well, you know Cookie. She had it in her head that she’d meet fascinating widowers from around the world who would find her allure irresistible.”

“She forgot to pack her allure,” Carl said to Adam. “You want another beer?”

“Nah, thanks. One’s plenty. Gotta be good to my new liver,” Adam said.

“Oh, Cookie, Cookie, Cookie. Tell me more,” I said.

“Don’t you know, I had to squeeze the truth out of her, but it seems those widowers from around the world were there. But they brought women with them who were half Cookie’s age, which she didn’t like one little bit.”

“She doesn’t like Judy either,” Ted said. “And Judy’s almost her age.”

“Jealous,” I said, and Ted nodded.

“She probably would’ve had a better time if she had not felt it was her moral duty to offer her staunch opinion against May-December romances,” Carl said.

“Come on!” Adam said. “I mean, we know Cookie’s bold, but that’s social suicide.”

Eve said, “Yes, it is! And it was. Here’s how bad it got. By day three on her trip down the Seine, people left the room or moved to another sofa when they saw her coming. And she ate almost all of her meals alone.”

“That’s terrible,” I said. I felt bad about it, but I had to laugh.

Even Ted snickered. Carl and Adam were snorting and laughing.

Eve said, “When she got home I told her, Mother? This is how the world is today. You have to learn to be happy on your own before you can be happy with somebody else.”

“We all have to learn that lesson,” I said.

“Some of us more than once,” Ted said.

“Ever since Eve stopped drinking, she’s a font of knowledge and advice,” Carl said.

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