CHAPTER NINE
Levi Brewer didn’t really have plans to play Call of Duty with Butch on Saturday, despite what he told his mother. She was so easy these days, it was ridiculous. That was the only good thing about his dad being gone—it was easier to get away with stuff. She never would have let him walk alone before. Also, Fern had plans with Sarina—Levi thought they were going to some dumb water park in New Jersey, even though he knew Fern’s leg was still bad. What was his mother’s deal? She used to have them at the doctor’s for a stuffy nose and now with this, she was just ignoring it? She kept taking Fern’s word for it that it didn’t hurt! Didn’t she have eyes? But Levi was okay with the water-park thing, because when Fern was busy his mom was always more eager to let him go somewhere, too. It was like if they were both home, fine, but if there was the chance she could be alone, she’d pretty much do anything to make it happen. At least that’s how it felt lately.
So Levi left the apartment and walked through the Square, right to La Colombe, where he went through his usual ritual of looking at the money and the note. But that was only the beginning of his day. He had plans. For the first time, he was going to spend some of the money.
He had already talked to Nancy, and all he had to do was get to the school in Kensington. She was cooking all day and doing inventory, and she was so happy to have the help, she’d said. She did ask if Levi’s sister and mom were coming, too. It seemed like she would have liked that, but when he explained that they had plans, she didn’t ask any follow-up questions. That was a relief, because he was smart enough to know that it was usually the follow-up questions that got him into trouble.
He pulled out a ten and went to the counter. He’d been there at least five times and had never once ordered a thing. But he thought he’d look older if he had a cup of coffee in his hand.
“One small coffee, black,” he said, repeating exactly what he heard his father say so many times. He had no idea what it would taste like but, whatever, he wasn’t really planning on drinking it.
“Coming up,” a tall guy with a man bun said, taking his ten and giving back seven and change. That’s an expensive cup of coffee, Levi thought, but he accepted the change and the hot cup and walked out. At first he thought he could order an Uber, he even had an app on his phone that his dad had set up for emergencies. But when he went through it to see if it would work, he was told that the credit card on file was no longer valid. So that was out. A cab would probably cost him at least ten dollars there, ten back, maybe more. He would be almost halfway through his money then. But he wanted to do what his dad wanted, he wanted to be able to tell him about it when he finally came home. So he opted for a bus but had no idea how to find the right one. There were lots of buses on Walnut Street, but those were heading west. He wanted to go north—at least he knew that. So he started walking north, thinking he’d eventually see a bus. He carried his coffee out in front of him, pretending to take a sip every now and then.
Tabitha wanted to go to the Fox & Hound for the Michigan–Penn State game, but she couldn’t say no to Rachel again, so she put on a cute fall dress, even though all she really wanted to put on was Stuart’s rumpled Michigan T-shirt, and she left to meet Rachel at the Dandelion on Eighteenth Street.
“Hi, hi!” Rachel said, as Tabitha moved toward her through the small crowd in the foyer of the English-style pub. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, and suddenly Tabitha felt happy to be there.
“Hi!” Tabitha leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
“They have our table ready,” Rachel said, pointing to a woman holding menus. They followed her up the carpeted stairs and turned left into the dog room which was decorated with photos of different breeds of dogs. They smiled at each other, since it was their favorite room in the restaurant, and took their seats at a comfortable corner table for two.
“They don’t usually bring bread at lunch, but I’m going to ask for some,” Tabitha said. If she filled up on bread she could get away with ordering something small—soup maybe, or that great butter lettuce salad. Plus, they had some of the best bread and butter she’d ever tasted.
“Sure! I want this to be a celebration,” Rachel said. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Tabitha squinted her eyes the tiniest bit at Rachel, trying to get a sense of what she wanted to talk about, but Rachel just smiled and looked at the menu.
“Can I get you started with some drinks?” a server asked.
“Yes!” Rachel said quickly. “Two glasses of prosecco please.”
Tabitha was already calculating the prices.
“Are you ready to order?” the server asked. “Or should I grab your drinks and come back?”
“We’re ready,” Rachel said. “We’ll have the shrimp cocktail, the Welsh rarebit, the butter lettuce salad, the shepherd’s pie, and the fish and chips.” It was everything they usually ordered, everything Tabitha loved, but she had planned to say she wasn’t that hungry today. Now that seemed too conspicuous.
“All great choices,” the server said before walking away.
“So,” Rachel said, putting her hands on the table and looking right at Tabitha. “First, let me say this is totally my treat. I am going to ask you for something, and even if you say no, I want to take you to lunch. Okay? Agree to that before I tell you about the thing.”
Tabitha tried not to look so over-the-top thrilled. “Yes, I agree. Thank you.”
“Okay, good,” Rachel said. “Oh, you forgot to ask for the bread!”
“That’s okay,” Tabitha said. “We’re getting so much good food.”
“Okay,” Rachel said, and Tabitha realized she was stalling. She was clearly nervous. She was breathing heavily through her mouth, even though they’d been sitting for a while already. “So, you know Michael and I broke up a little over six months ago. I mean, of course you know that, but I’m just setting the scene. And you know we broke up because he didn’t want to take the next step, or the one after that, or any future steps with me at all, which really sucked.”
For a minute, Tabitha thought Rachel would cry. It had taken her four months to be able to mention Michael without crying. She watched as Rachel shook her head.
“Again, just setting the scene,” she said. “This is not about him.”
“Okay, good,” Tabitha said, encouragingly.
“And I’m just tired of waiting for the right guy. I’m worried that I’ll find someone I like, someone who seems to like me, and then I’ll waste a year or two years, and I’ll end up right back in this same place, only older.”
“No, that won’t happen,” Tabitha said, reaching across the table and patting Rachel’s hand.
“Just hear me out,” Rachel said.
The server brought over the prosecco. It was bubbly and delicious looking in its tall, elegant glass.
“Cheers,” Tabitha said, holding hers up.
“Oh shoot, I didn’t time this right,” Rachel said. “I meant to be finished with my speech so we could toast. Oh well, cheers!”
They clinked glasses, and Tabitha took a huge, long sip. Then she stopped herself. She wanted to make it last.
“I’m just going to get to the point,” Rachel said, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her napkin. “I want to have a baby, and I’m just going to do it. Or, at least, try to do it. And while I don’t think I need a man, although, don’t get me wrong, if it all worked out and the right person came along and he didn’t mind that I had a baby, I would be very open to that. But that might never happen. And I know I can’t do it totally alone, so before I do anything—before I look into a sperm donor and find out about insemination—I wanted to ask you if you would be part of my support system. I would want you to be the baby’s godmother, but I would count on you for more than that, if you agree to this. For example, if I was really going crazy and needed a minute or sixty, I would call you and see if I could drop the baby off. If I was sick, I might ask you for help. If the baby was sick and freaking out and I didn’t know what to do, I might ask you for help. You get the picture, right? You are such a great mother—you seem to have it so together—and Levi and Fern are such great, great kids. I mean, I’ve been paying extra attention lately, and you really make them your priority. I mean, if they need you, you don’t just skip out and go to yoga class. You are there for them. That’s the kind of mother I want to be. I could really learn from you. What do you think? There is nobody I would rather do this with.”
The words hung in the air, and if Tabitha weren’t so truly dumbstruck, she might have laughed or said that sounded a little like a marriage proposal. But Tabitha had to use her energy to keep her mouth from dropping open and from saying, Are you crazy? I’m a total mess.
Rachel leaned in. “I know things aren’t great with Stuart,” she said quietly. “At least that’s what I’ve been assuming. But that hasn’t stopped you from taking amazing care of your kids. Where is Stuart, by the way?”
Again, Tabitha squinted her eyes. Was this a joke? Was this Rachel’s way of getting her to confess? No, she honestly didn’t think so.
“Still on the Upper Peninsula,” Tabitha said, “Dealing with that mining strike.”
“All right, so you see what I mean?” Rachel said, like she’d just made her point. “You’re basically a single mom a lot of the time. We could help each other. I could help you more than I do now. It could be like a partnership.”
“Sure,” Tabitha said, even though what she wanted to say was, Can I think about it? Can I figure out where my missing husband is and try to get some cash flow going before I commit to helping take care of a new human being?
“Sure, as in yes, as in, you’ll do it?”
The server placed the appetizers on the table. Tabitha lifted her fork; she couldn’t wait to try that Welsh rarebit with all its mustardy cheese.
“Sure, as in yes, I’ll do it,” Tabitha said, putting down her fork and smiling at Rachel.
“Thank you,” Rachel said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
When she was almost back at her apartment she checked her phone. No word from the kids. Fern had seemed better that week, so Tabitha had let her Wednesday deadline go by. Thursday was okay, Friday, a little iffy, and then today Fern practically skipped out the door on her way to the water park. The hurting-knee saga just might be behind them. That would be one big relief.
On Facebook, she saw that the football game, which she thought started at noon and would therefore most likely be over, had just started twenty minutes before, at three, so instead of going home, Tabitha walked to the Fox & Hound. Why, she had no idea, except that she didn’t want to be alone. She felt either that she was pretending or there by proxy in pretty much everything she did lately. She’d just spent hours pretending with Rachel—that everything was fine, that she was just busy, that her marriage was not so bad, that she had plenty of money, that she had the time to dedicate to Rachel’s future baby. And talk about not really belonging someplace! The synagogue, for one, where she had no idea what was going on half the time, and now the Michigan games. It was like she was living Stuart’s life, but he wasn’t there to see it, appreciate it, or help her get through it in any way. Maybe not with Rachel, but with everything else.
She worried a little about Levi but imagined that he was completely immersed in the land of whatever video game he and Butch were playing. Knowing him, she wouldn’t hear from him for hours. She thought about texting him, but decided not to. Maybe she’d get lucky, and Butch’s parents would invite him to stay for dinner. Fern was taken care of, at least for the afternoon. Maybe Tabitha could get away with just taking home some of the food from the sports bar and passing it off as a meal, again.
She could see how crowded it was when she walked up. People were everywhere, standing up against the big plate-glass windows, spilling out the door. She knew the Michigan–Penn State game wasn’t the only one going on, but she imagined it would draw the biggest crowd. She walked in, pushing by people who were far younger and far drunker than she’d been in years. Suddenly, she was glad it was so crowded. It was easier to hide this way. She thought of the quote from The Great Gatsby, the one about there being no privacy at small parties, and she wished she had someone to share that thought with.
As soon as she came around the corner, she was overwhelmed by the sea of maize and blue. She stopped and blinked for a second, the place was eerily quiet, but then the crowd erupted in crazy cheers and then, of course, “The Victors.” People were handing around a stack of small papers, each taking one before passing it on. Tabitha took one and read it. It said: “From now on—when Penn State says ‘WE ARE’—I want everyone in the room to mouth, definitely not say out loud, the word shit. They won’t hear it but they will feel it.” Tabitha shook her head—these people were nuts. She doubted anyone would actually do it. But she watched as other people took a paper off the pile, read it and nodded or smiled, or, in some cases, nodded and smiled.
The head of the alumni association chapter climbed onto the table in the middle of the room. His entire face was painted blue, including his ears. His hair was dyed a strange yellow that Tabitha thought nobody would really call maize, more like mustard. He wore a sparkly maize sweater and had blue gloves on with a big block M on each hand. Tabitha wondered if he was okay.
“Wolverines!” he yelled into the crowd. His voice was hoarse. “You are doing an excellent job of keeping the energy up in this room, but I need you to keep it going. We need another touchdown! Can you guys do it?”
“Yes!”
“What did you say?” His voice cracked on the last word, and he put his hand to his throat, then tried again. “What did you say?”
“Yes!”
He pointed his blue-gloved finger into the crowd, moving it slowly from person to person.
“I’m watching you,” he said after a few moments had gone by.
It felt like a threat to Tabitha. Who was this guy? How did someone take on that sort of role? She’d been more and more interested lately in how people got to the place they were in life—how people established their normal, whatever that might be? She spotted the food and walked right over to the buffet. The thing was, she wasn’t hungry. Available food should never go uneaten, but she’d just eaten a huge lunch with Rachel, which she thoroughly enjoyed. Maybe this was a waste of time. She turned away from the bar and saw an arm moving out of the corner of her eye. She followed it and saw Toby waving wildly at her, smiling. She couldn’t believe it, but in all this craziness, he had actually saved her a seat. At least she thought he had. There was an empty seat next to him, decorated the same as last time, and he had his nonwaving hand on it. He pointed to the chair furiously. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
“Hi!” she said, once she reached him, which was no easy feat. There was barely any space between people. She would hate to have to get out of there in a hurry.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” he said. “They are like lions, tigers, and—no, they are like Wolverines. I don’t think I could have held them off a minute longer. Please, sit, immediately.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“What took you so long?” he asked.
“Well, I wasn’t even necessarily planning to come,” she said. “It just sort of worked out.”
He looked at her incredulously. “It’s the Penn State game,” he finally said. “So many local and personal rivalries going on in this room right now. You can’t miss that.”
“I know, I know,” she said. “That’s why I came!” She didn’t have the energy to say that she got it, she really did, but that this wasn’t her thing. It was Stuart’s thing, and she was here because they had a good buffet of free food.
Toby turned his attention back to the game. She was glad to not have to talk. They watched in hushed horror as Penn State almost made a touchdown, but at the last second Michigan intercepted the ball and ran it all the way back. She was glad, she really was, but she worried about the colorful guy getting back up on the table. Everyone sang, and they started to pass the chair of the alumni association chapter around rock-concert style. Toby put out his hands to help support him as he came by, but Tabitha stepped back so she wouldn’t have to. As soon as the man was safely delivered to other outstretched hands, Toby looked at his phone.
“Shoot,” Toby said.
“What?”
“I have to be home in an hour to walk my dog. I just got a text from the dog walker that he couldn’t get in; the key didn’t work. That’s never happened before. She’s been alone for, let me think, about three hours. I might have two hours before I have to take her out. She’s a good dog, but dogs will be dogs, and she’s getting older.”
“I didn’t know you have a dog,” Tabitha said. It was a dumb thing to say—she didn’t know much about him at all. “What’s her name?”
“Yo-Adrian,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You mean her name is Adrian?”
“No, it’s Yo-Adrian. Her whole name is Yo-Adrian. I call her Yo-A mostly.”
Tabitha shook her head. That was the most clever dog name she’d ever heard. She loved it. She had always been a sucker for Rocky references.
“That is so great,” she said. “When I was a kid, we had a dog named Buster. We might as well have named him Dog, I guess.”
“No, Buster’s a great name,” Toby said, like he meant it. He reached out and took her hand. It was so startling and unexpected that she literally yanked it away.
“Sorry,” he said, as nicely as he’d said everything else. She waited for him to say more, to explain that he thought there was something between them, or that he was getting mixed signals, all the things people usually said when one reached out but the other didn’t reciprocate. But he didn’t. He just went back to watching the game.
Tabitha felt claustrophobic. She had to get out of there. She checked her phone, hoping a kid would need her, but nobody did. She was just sitting up straighter, getting ready with an excuse, but then Penn State scored, and the group at the other end of the huge bar screamed, “We are—” and everyone in their section mouthed, “Shit.” You could almost hear it, though not quite. It was like a ghost whisper.
“So, I’m planning my mother’s birthday party, and I could use a little help,” Toby said, like they were in the middle of a conversation. There was no indication that he was embarrassed or had any regret about trying to hold her hand. Had he actually tried to hold it, or had she imagined that? Now she wasn’t sure.
“How old is she?”
“She will be eighty years old,” he said, proudly. “I have a great idea. Want to hear it?”
“Sure,” she said, relaxing again.
“The theme is Uranus.”
She must have heard wrong.
“As in, your anus?”
“Yes, Uranus.”
“Wait, you mean like your butt?”
He smiled a slow smile.
“No, like the planet.”
He let it sink in. He had good timing, this guy.
“That’s a strange theme,” she finally said. “How about a garden party or Harry Potter? Did your mother read Harry Potter? Even a pirate party might be better. I always love a good pirate party. No, I know, a Wizard of Oz party! That was always my mother’s favorite. She loved recreating the yellow-brick road.”
She tried not to let her entire face change. Toby didn’t know anything about her mother. He didn’t know about her last few horrible days, he didn’t even know that she was dead.
“No, the Uranus party it is!” he said. “I am committed. I’ve been thinking about this since I learned about the planets in seventh grade. I always hoped she’d live long enough so I could do it.”
“Okay, so then I have two questions. How do you think I can help? And why Uranus?”
“Both very good questions,” Toby said, brushing a piece of maize confetti off of his leg. “I will give you the answers in the reverse order in which they were asked. Why Uranus? Because it takes a little over eighty years for the planet Uranus to orbit the Sun. From what I understand, that means that Uranus will travel all the way around the Sun once in many peoples’ lifetimes. How cool is that? In a perfect world, I might wait until my mother turns eighty-four. I think that might be a more precise number, but this is such a big birthday and well, you never know.”
He paused here, and Tabitha nodded.
“Also,” Toby continued, “and I have to give you some credit for mentioning this earlier, there is that intriguing idea that Uranus sounds like your anus, and in my experience, older people are more focused on that body part since so many people have trouble in that area as they get older.”
Toby took a breath before continuing, and Tabitha thought she should feel embarrassed—sheepish at the very least—but she didn’t. She thought it was a brilliant idea.
“I imagine lots of images of Uranus—with the word written out, so people can say it, and if that leads them to a discussion about their time in the bathroom, then so be it. The way I see it, these people have lived long enough to know what they do and do not want to talk about.”
Tabitha smiled.
“So, where do I come in?”
“Well you’ve already helped me by letting me talk it through,” he said, shouting a little over the roar of the crowd. “But I was hoping you could help me with the menu. That’s a tricky one. I mean, what sort of food do you serve at a Uranus party?”
“Space food?” Tabitha asked.
“Yes! Space food! I can get some of that freeze-dried ice cream, maybe make a big vat of soup or overcooked pasta or whatever the astronauts bring with them when they travel. It’s probably really mushy. Perfect for the guests we’ll be receiving.”
Tabitha laughed so hard she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t laughed like this in . . . weeks? Months? When was the last time?
She reached out and brushed another piece of confetti off of Toby’s hand. It was warm and soft, and suddenly she had an urge to squeeze it. She let her hand rest on his for a beat longer than seemed normal, then pulled it away.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Now? But it’s the fourth quarter.”
“They’re gonna win despite that last touchdown. I just know it,” he said. “Come on, I have an idea.”
When they got up, Toby gathered his decorations, carefully folding the banners and placing them back in his backpack as two drunk girls, dressed completely in maize, pounced on the chairs, one sitting on Toby’s hand before he had a chance to move it. The girl didn’t even notice. He pulled his hand out and shook it, smiling, and then they pushed through the crowd and went out into the chilly evening. Tabitha hadn’t thought of the kids in a little while, but now she did.
“You know what?” she said, a little out of breath. “Eventually, I have to track down my kids and take care of them. How big a time commitment is this idea of yours?”
“Not too big,” he said. “Maybe thirty minutes, tops? I have to get home to Yo-A soon anyway. This is something I do sometimes. It might not work out. Timing is everything, as they say.”
“Okay,” she said, following him west on Spruce Street—actually toward her apartment—but he didn’t know that, so she felt okay about it.
“Where’s your daughter this weekend?” she asked.
“With her mom,” Toby said, and for a second Tabitha thought he wouldn’t say any more. But then, “Things have been pretty rough. She isn’t being very nice to me right now—my ex, that is—my daughter is the loveliest human being you have ever met. Well, that I’ve ever met. You probably feel that way about your own kids. Anyway, I don’t blame her, really, at all. Truth be told, there was an incident that sparked our downfall, and it was my fault, so, I guess, I get what I deserve.”
Tabitha was beyond curious, but if she asked him to explain, then she’d feel like she owed him an explanation of her own.
“I’m really sorry,” she said.
“Yeah, so am I.”
At Eighteenth Street he guided her right, and for a second, Tabitha panicked. Did he actually know where she lived? She tried to go over everything they had ever talked about to remember if she had told him. No, she wouldn’t do that. She barely knew him. She was happy when he stopped to cross the street toward Rittenhouse Square.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Okay, I’ll tell you, because I don’t want you to be disappointed. We’re going to this great coffee place called La Colombe, do you know it? Because at closing time they give away all the baked goods that are left at the end of the day. Now, when I say timing is everything, I mean it, because there might be none left, or there might already be so many people there that we won’t be able to grab any. We’ll see.”
Tabitha couldn’t believe it. She had once practically lived at La Colombe. Though, obviously, she hadn’t enjoyed one of their luscious cappuccinos in way too long. And free food? Was he kidding? How come she didn’t know about that? But the bigger question might be, why did he want to get free food? Did he somehow know she needed it? Did he suspect, since she was always pilfering the buffet at the Fox & Hound? Or did he need free food?
It looked like their timing was perfect because, while the place was still crowded enough, no one seemed particularly interested in the food that had been placed on top of the glass counter. There were cheese croissants, mini challah loaves, whole baguettes. There were chocolate scones and coffee cakes. Her mouth was already watering.
“Take a bag and fill it,” he said, pointing to the stack of large, brown-paper bags.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing a bag.
They were quiet while they each filled their bags. When they were finished, there were still some pastries left over, but she didn’t want to appear too greedy. She wondered if they’d have a picnic in the Square, or if they’d just say good-bye, and each take their loot back to their own homes.
“Now what?” she asked, tucking the stuffed bag under her arm.
“Now we find some homeless people.”
Levi couldn’t believe his eyes. Was that his mother? And who was that man?
He had been sitting at La Colombe for over an hour, trying to pull himself together, still carrying that stupid cup of coffee he had bought that morning. Really, thank goodness he did, because having that in front of him made him feel like he had a right to be there, like he could sit as long as he wanted to. But the place was closing and he had to leave and go somewhere else, probably home, but that was the last place he wanted to go.
Someone had just announced the free food, apparently they actually let people take the things that were left over. And he was going to get up to take some. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but he knew they were eating very strangely lately, and there was never really quite enough. Some extra bread sounded really good.
So he was about to get up and take some stuff, when he saw his mother come in. He turned so fast back to his table that he knocked down the cup, which was still almost full, and he hunched over, trying to look as invisible as possible. She was never going to not see him; he knew that. She had eagle eyes. But she barely glanced around, and she and the man stuffed those bags so full and walked out.
The day had been a disaster. He never made it to The Family Meal. It was so hard to find it, and the buses, they were so complicated! He spent all his money trying to get there, and between buses, cabs, and one burger along the way—all fifty of the dollars were gone. He felt so stupid. And dirty. And where the hell was his father? He checked his email one more time, seeing if by chance his father might have written, maybe, finally, today. When there was nothing, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He started a new email to his father, using the only email address he had for him. He hadn’t wanted to do this, he didn’t want to reach out to him and have him not reach back. That was his worst fear. At least now he could tell himself his father didn’t know how much he missed him, he didn’t know that he was desperate for some word from him. But maybe that’s what his father needed to know to get in touch. Maybe his father was so busy that he just didn’t realize how important this was.
Dear Dad,
Where exactly are you and when are you coming back? I wanted you to know that I am working with The Family Meal for my BM project and they seem great. But I do have some questions. Can you call or write back? Soon? And one more thing, I spent your money so can you send more? I didn’t spend it on stupid stuff like video games, I spent it trying to get to The Family Meal. I know how much you care about that so please help. Okay? This is hard without you.
Love,
Levi
He didn’t even read through it, like his mother always told him to do. He just pressed “send.” When there was no bounce-back notification, nothing saying he was out of the office, or out of the country, or out of his normal life, Levi felt vaguely satisfied. He grabbed the last challah roll and headed home to an empty apartment.