Second Chance Summer

“Hi.” I looked over and saw a pair of feet standing in first position, then up to see my mother, biting her lip. She sat down on the small table that stood between the two porch chairs and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I just,” I started, having to take a breath before I could continue, feeling like I was on the verge of starting to cry again. I gave the husk a hard yank and dropped it into the bag at my feet. “I’m sorry for inviting people. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I can call them and tell them not to come.”

My mom shook her head. “It’s fine. I promise. The thing is…” She sighed and looked out to the road for a moment. Two people walking a golden retriever passed by, waving to us. My mother waved back, then looked back at me. “I just kept thinking, all day, about how this is your father’s last Fourth,” she said quietly. This didn’t do much to keep my tears at bay and I pressed my lips together hard. “I just wanted everything to be perfect,” she said. I looked over at her, and saw to my alarm that there were tears in her eyes, threatening to fall.

This, frankly, was a lot more frightening than the yelling. Seeing my mother sad, vulnerable, scared—it was too much for me, and I grabbed another ear, careful not to look at her again.

“There’s just nothing worse than a ruined holiday,” she continued, but she sounded less like she was about to cry, and I could feel myself relax just a tiny bit.

“I know,” I said, without even thinking about it. When my mother didn’t say anything, I looked up at her. “My birthday?” I prompted, then immediately wished I hadn’t said anything, as her face crumpled a little bit and she looked like she was about to cry again. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that, Mom. Don’t…”

My mother shook her head and looked away from me. Murphy padded tentatively out to the porch, maybe figuring that as long as we were no longer yelling, it was safe to emerge. To my surprise, my mother scooped the dog up, resting her cheek against his wiry fur for just a moment. “I thought you didn’t like him,” I said.

My mom smiled, and settled the dog on her lap. “I guess he’s growing on me,” she said, running her hand over the top of his head. We sat in silence, and as I dropped one ear of corn in the bag and extracted a new one, my mom shook her head. “Leave the rest,” she said. “Warren and Gelsey can do them when they get home.” I dropped the ear back, surprised, and my mom leaned forward. “And I am sorry about your birthday, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said. I meant it too. I’d been upset about the birthday thing, at first, but so many other things had happened since that it had lost a lot of its importance. “And I promise it’ll be fine tonight. We’ll make it a good night for Dad.” She looked at me, and I gave her a slightly trembly smile, realizing how strange it was to be the one consoling her, trying to cheer her up, when I’d known a lifetime of it being the other way around.

“I hope so,” she said quietly. And then, she leaned a little closer to me and smoothed my hair down, then rubbed my back in small circles the way she’d done when I was young. The things we’d been fighting about no longer seemed to matter. After a moment, I surprised myself by leaning into her and resting my head on her shoulder, in a way I hadn’t done since I’d been very little, and her shoulder had seemed a lot bigger, big enough to hold up not only me, but the whole world. And for just a second, as I closed my eyes and she ran her hand over my hair, it felt like it might still be true.

Despite all the stress, the barbecue turned out fine. Gelsey and I had set up citronella candles all around the backyard (she insisted on doing grands jetés to go between them) and my father had taken over grill duties, piling the platter high with cheeseburgers and hot dogs, wearing pressed khakis and a polo shirt that now looked much too big on him.

Henry and his dad had to do some prep work for the bakery that night, so my mother had invited Davy over and Mr. Crosby had given his babysitter the night off. All in all, it was a bit of a mixed group, but everyone seemed to be getting along. Fred showed up, bringing Jillian as his date and bearing two sea bass that my father grilled, and that everyone had effusively praised, making Fred turn even redder than normal. As soon as she had arrived, Lucy had been seized by Nora and Gelsey, and was now running an impromptu backbend lesson on the side of the lawn. Elliott had freaked out when he learned Jeff was a professional screenwriter. They had discovered a mutual love of science fiction movies, and had spent most of the barbecue talking only to each other. My mom had dragged some chairs out to the back lawn, and she hovered near my dad while he sat next to Fred, the two of them laughing about something. Davy was trying to teach the dog—unsuccessfully—to fetch, but he nonetheless seemed committed to his task.

I saw Warren and Wendy holding hands and talking to Kim, and I headed over to join them. “It’s just such a fascinating area!” Kim was saying as I joined their circle. I noticed that Wendy looked particularly patriotic—she was wearing a red-and-white-striped shirt with blue shorts, and had pulled back her hair with a red headband. “We’re definitely looking at getting an animal tech—or maybe a vet—into this pilot we’re developing,” Kim said.

“Wendy’s going to be a vet,” Warren said, and I just stared at him for a moment, beaming at the girl next to him. It was like I barely recognized him anymore.

“Well, we’ll see,” Wendy said with a laugh, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “I’m just starting college in the fall.”

“But you should see her in the store,” Warren gushed, as though Kim was actually interviewing Wendy for a job and needed to hear all about how fabulous she was. “She has an incredible way with animals.”

“Can you help out over there?” I asked Wendy, pointing in the direction of Davy. Murphy was now circling him while he threw the stick. The dog watched the stick arc across the lawn, and then went back to jumping up at Davy, missing the point of the exercise entirely.

Wendy shook her head. “I’m not sure how effective I’d be,” she said, giving me a smile. I noticed she rarely stopped smiling, and Warren hadn’t seemed to stop all night. Before she had shown up, I truly hadn’t been aware my brother had this many teeth.