Julia 24
Later, after the dust has settled, I’m enjoying a cup of coffee as I sit at the long farm table, watching through the slider as a doe and fawn pick their way through the backyard, periodically stopping to munch on some mums. They’re a stark contrast to the mother/child scene playing out here in the kitchen as David contentedly mauls his macaroni and cheese. He flattens the sticky elbows against the tray of his high chair, using an airplane-shaped spoon. When he has sufficiently crushed them, he grabs a fistful of the gooey mess and stuffs it into his mouth. About a third of it stays in there.
“Sweetie, let Mommy help you …” I offer, reaching for the spoon.
“NO!” he screeches. “NO, Mammmmmaaa!”
I hold up my hands in surrender. Since this little boy came into the world, I’ve learned all about the art of picking my battles. Squashed mac and cheese I can deal with.
“Hey! What’s all the yelling about in here?” Matthew asks as he breezes into the kitchen, considerably more relaxed now that I’m off the warpath. He pours himself a mug of coffee from the carafe on the counter and comes to give me a kiss on the cheek. Then it’s David’s turn. Matthew sneaks up behind our son, still preoccupied with his dinner, and delivers a sloppy, sneak-attack raspberry on the back of his neck, making the boy chortle uncontrollably. When he stands up again, Matthew has macaroni stuck to his face.
“You have a little something …” I point out, gesturing to the spot on my face that reflects where the food is on his face.
He swipes at it with his hand and examines the rogue noodles before popping them into his mouth.
“Yummmmmmmm!” he says, picking another off of the highchair tray.
David’s belly laugh fills the kitchen. When I look at the two of them, I see father and son …which makes me think about Jeremy …which makes me think about Trudy.
“So, Maggie’s going to take the train out from the city tomorrow morning with Trudy. She’ll stay here and watch David while Trudy and I have a bite out,” I inform him, trying not to sound as unsure about the plan as I feel.
Matthew musses the top of David’s hair and comes to sit with me at the table.
“Yeah? That sounds nice. Where’re you going to take her?”
“That little cafe on Love Lane in Mattituck.”
He snorts.
“What? What can you possibly find amusing about that?” I challenge.
“Let me guess, you picked.”
“Yes. And …?”
“And, I’m just struck by the fact that you’re a nervous wreck about having this conversation with Trudy and, yet, you’re still thinking about pancakes.”
“What?”
He pokes me in the arm.
“You. Love. Pancakes. You especially love their lemon ricotta pancakes.”
I think about this for a second.
“Oh my God,” I groan and roll my eyes, smacking a hand to my forehead. “You’re right! What’s wrong with me?”
I’m horrified, he is laughing.
“Nothing! I just think it’s hilarious that even at this seminal moment in your life, you’re thinking about breakfast.”
I shake my head at him, starting to laugh at myself.
“Matthew, what do you think that is?”
He shrugs, still smiling.
“Honestly, Julia, I think it’s your comfort zone kicking in. Besides, if things don’t go well, the day won’t have been a total bust …”
I slap his hand playfully and am about to say something when the blaring sound of a foghorn filters into the bright, white kitchen from outside.
“Boat!” David yells proudly from the highchair.
“Yes, baby, very good!” I praise him and then turn to Matthew. “Can’t we do anything about that? The new foghorns on the ferry are so loud!”
“It’s already on the agenda for the next civic meeting. At the very least, we should be able to get a curfew, so there won’t be anymore of those midnight wakeup calls. I don’t think it’ll be an issue, honestly. The ferry company likes to be a good neighbor.’”
“I’d settle for having them be a quiet neighbor right now,” I grumble.
“Okay, so let’s square away the plan for the rest of the week,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket to consult his calendar. I reach for mine and realize it’s still missing, thanks to the redheaded imp sitting next to me. “Lunch with Trudy for you,” Matthew is reciting as he scrolls from date to date. “A date with Maggie for David. I’ve got a rehearsal for the Montauk Music Festival gig I’m doing, so I won’t be home till dinner. And then …?”
“And then we have a down day on Wednesday before we head back to the city Thursday. I gave Nat those two days off. And then Friday …”
“And then Friday is Mommy’s big night!” Matthew says excitedly, scooping up David from the highchair and spinning him around the kitchen.
“Matthew! Put him down before he throws up on you!” I warn him, already envisioning the gooey, orange mess.
“Mommy’s a worry wart!” Matthew informs David and delivers him back to his seat.
“More!” he demands, pounding his chubby fists on the tray. “More!”
“Finish your dinner first,” Matthew tells him. It seems to do the trick and peace is restored in the kitchen – at least for the moment. “As I was saying …your big night! Is everything ready?”
I roll my eyes and groan. “It’s a nightmare. I spoke with Lester Morgan this afternoon. The guest list is up to a hundred and fifty!”
Matthew waves away my alarm with a dismissive hand.
“Oh, come on now. You’ve played for audiences ten times that size!” he reminds me.
“Yeah, well, this feels different. God, it’s all about me, this time.”
“Julia! It’s supposed to be all about you. This is your first commercial release – it’s a very, very big deal!”
“I know,” I whine, “but all those people …they’ll be wanting me to sign their CD’s and they’ll want to talk with me and …well, you know playing for an audience is one thing. Interacting is another.”
He seems to consider this. “Yeah, I can see that. But still, it isn’t as if you’ll be alone. I’ll be there, Dr. Sam, Maggie, Brett …You’ll be among friends. Just go and play. The rest will take care of itself.”
“You think?”
I can hear the skepticism in my voice, and so can he. He stands up, faces me and reaches down, taking my face in both of his soft, warm hands.
“I know. If I had even an iota of doubt, I wouldn’t let you do it. I swear, Julia.”
I smile up at him and his amber eyes fill me with the confidence I’m lacking.
“You know I love you, right?” I murmur and watch as his smile makes his eyes crinkle.
“I do,” he says, leaning down and giving me a soft kiss on the mouth. “Now, where’s the rest of that macaroni and cheese?”