Page 49 of Private Pleasures

“His needs have changed, honey.” Nora tried to explain it to her son, although she wasn’t certain she really understood it herself. Jeff was having one whale of a midlife crisis. “I don’t fit the profile anymore of what he needs, or thinks he needs, now. Heidi does. I’m learning it isn’t unusual for men his age to do this. Particularly men in positions of importance or power within their career arenas. Suddenly the wife who provided the backup and support while they were climbing the ladder of success is no longer the wife they want. They want someone young and intelligent because they think it makes them look younger and smarter.”

“I’ll never be like Dad,” J. J. said stonily. “When I marry it’s going to be forever.”

“I hope it is, honey,” Nora told him. “It used to be like that.” She stood up. “You had better get your shower. Your bags are all packed. I’m taking you and Maureen to the bus in just an hour.”

J. J. arose, and putting his arms about his mother, he hugged her hard, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll always love you best, Ma,” he said.

“Best of your parents is flattering, honey,” she said, “but love the girl you marry one day best of all, and above all other women. That’s the way it should be. And if it is that way, then your wife and I will always be friends and never jealous of one another.”

Releasing her, he ran off to take his shower, returning forty minutes later smelling of soap, shampoo, and too much aftershave. He was wearing his best worn jeans, a flannel shirt with an Irish sweater over it, and his favorite leather work boots. His hair was wet.

“You can’t go out with wet hair,” she scolded him. “Use the dryer in my bathroom. You’ve got time before we have to go.”

Grumbling, he returned back upstairs, and when he came down again his hair was dry, and slicked back with some kind of goop he used. “Better?” he demanded to know.

“Better,” she said, resigned as she watched him slap his favorite baseball cap, brim backward, on his head. She couldn’t convince him that he would ruin his hair with that damned cap on his head all the time. She picked up the car keys from the bowl on the hall table. “Let’s ride, Clyde,” she said with a small smile.

He picked up his two duffels. “You get everything in here, Ma?” he asked.

“Everything you left out, and some other stuff you forgot,” she told him as they walked to the car in the driveway. She popped the trunk, and he tossed his bags inside.

Joe came staggering across the street with Maureen’s matching luggage, his daughter followed pulling another suitcase on wheels, and Carla carried a shopping bag that Nora knew had sandwiches, chips, goodies, and juice boxes for the long bus ride. The luggage was all loaded up. Hugs and kisses all around, and Nora got into the car and drove her son and neighbor’s daughter to the bus station. Reaching their destination, J. J. and Maureen were out of the car quickly, waving and calling to two other kids they knew, who were obviously returning to State today as well. Then he unloaded the trunk.

“You don’t have to wait, Ma,” J. J. said. He wasn’t embarrassed yet, but he was going to be if she didn’t take the hint and go.

How long until she saw him again? Nora wondered, struggling with herself not to cry. “Give me a hug and a kiss, honey,” she said, and he did.

“Bye, Ma. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Call early,” Nora said. “I’m going to bed right away. Tomorrow is going to be a bitch of a day for me. Before eight, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, and turning away, he joined his friends as they gathered up all their luggage and began loading it on the waiting bus.

“Bye, Mrs. Buckley,” Maureen said, giving her a quick kiss. “Thanks for driving me down here.”

“Have a good term, Mo,” Nora told the girl. Then she got into the car and drove away. She tucked the car carefully into the garage when she got home. The house was cold when she entered it. She kicked the thermostat up to seventy-two degrees. Screw the cost. It was only for a few hours. It was just a little after 11 a.m. Nora went into the living room. The ornament box was waiting for her. She had pulled it out early this morning. She looked a final time at the tree. It wasn’t the biggest she had ever had, but it had been a pretty tree. She removed the many ornaments efficiently, replacing them in their slots in the special box she had bought years ago for just this purpose. When the ornaments were all stowed, she drew off the strands of tiny colored lights, wrapping each strand neatly and placing them in a row on the top shelf of the box. Finished, she closed down the lid of the box. The tree still smelled fragrantly rich with its piney scent.

Nora picked up a telephone handset and called Rick Johnson. “I’m ready now,” she said when Carla answered.

“We’ll be right over, sweetie,” Carla replied. “I’m only half finished.”

“I got going early,” Nora answered, and hung up the phone.

They were at her house a few minutes later. Together the three of them took the tree from its holder and jostled it out the front door to the curb, where the town would be picking it up on Tuesday next.

“Thanks,” Nora told them, turning to go back into her house.

“I’ll pick you up at eight a.m. tomorrow,” Rick reminded her.

“I’ll be ready,” Nora said, but she didn’t turn to face him.

“Nora, wait a minute,” Carla said, catching up with her friend, and walking with her back to her house. “Look, I know tomorrow’s going to be a bitch. I have to work, but I’ll be home by three thirty, and I’ll come over, okay?”

Nora debated a moment, and then said, “Listen, Carla, whatever happens, I don’t want you to worry about me, alright? I’ll be fine.”

“Sure you will,” Carla said halfheartedly.

“No, Carla, you don’t understand. I’m not going to sign those papers tomorrow. Jeff isn’t going to get my house.” She put her fingers over Carla’s mouth even as her best friend was opening it to speak. “Carla, whatever you see, whatever they tell you, I will be alright. I’m going away. That’s why I spoke with Mr. Nicholas all those months ago. I needed to know if I could use The Channel as a refuge, and he said I could. If I don’t sign those papers tomorrow, then Jeff is stuck until I do.”