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Pulling away, I tenderly take hold of his shoulders. “I want you to give it a try. We’ll find someone you like and when we do, I want you to try it for seven times.”
"Seven?!"
I let him go and straighten up. “That's enough time to make the right decision about wanting to continue. It’s rough to do something new, for anyone. If you just go for only a few times, you don’t know if it could’ve been a really good thing if you’d stuck it out. Does that sound fair?"
Resistance shrugs his shoulders. “Okay.”
"Help me wash these dishes."
I rinse and he puts ‘em in the dishwasher, like we normally do. My parents taught me to always have children help with chores as soon as they are able. They’re more a part of the household, and trained for having their own when they’re adults. Maybe it’s because of this that Jonny isn't like his mother — he likes to work. He's like me in that way.
Out there on the farm, just like me, he gets a thrill when new growth appears. From seed to fruition, and doing all that’s necessary in between to ensure healthy produce, makes him happy because he can see the results of his efforts.
Our efforts.
My son’s and mine. Damn if I’m going to let her get full custody so he can sit around and watch TV every day of his fucking life. I will beat her at this. I have to.
“Let’s get some work done and then head over to Sunflower. I have plans this afternoon to guide the guests in…” My phone rings an interruption, and I relax at the sight of Dad’s photo lighting up the screen, him smiling on their porch with a cup of coffee. Answering the call, and feeling good about Jonny agreeing to try therapy, I say a relaxed, “Hey Dad."
“Ben. No horseback riding today. Too hung over. They just told me."
A reminder of their dance party would normally make me smile, but my disappointment at not having an excuse to see Willow, wins the day. “Okay.”
“Hey Grandpa!” Jonny yells.
“Put my grandson on the line.”
I hand over the phone, walk outside and close the door, letting them have their conversation. In the late afternoon sunlight, I lean on a post and stare in the direction of Sunflower, thinking to myself, How am I going to do this? How am I going to see Willow again?
TWENTY-TWO
Willow
During the warm spring evening, long after dessert, the Brooklyn girls, Marco, Laura and I are relaxing out the remainders of our hangovers in the hot jet streams of a large Jacuzzi on the side of Sunflower House.
It could have fit us all but it would have been a cramped fit, so I'm glad that Steve, Maggie and Pete decided to abstain and play a card game.
Dax wanted to paint and is doing exactly that, alone and happy in the arts and crafts room.
Rachel and Sylvia said they were going to read their books before bed, with Rachel walking back to her house and her husband for the night. Sylvia disappeared upstairs to the room she’s lived in for too long.
We learned at dinner that Ben wouldn't be joining us tonight because he wanted to spend time with his son, newly returned from his grandmother’s, making their meal for the two of them at home. I was secretly disappointed, but at the same time thought it incredibly sweet. I wondered what they were talking about. What his son is like. How Ben is as a dad. Does Jonny look like Ben did when Ben was a boy? During empanadas and shrimp tacos, I kept these thoughts to myself even when Rachel told stories of how Ben used to help a lot at the retreats, charming all of us.
The meal felt like home. Southern California is known for great Mexican food considering it used to be part of Mexico before the settlers took it over long ago. That’s one reason we do not lack for excellent food that’s authentic and hard to duplicate. Also, Korean taco trucks took over the streets some years back and never left, thankfully. Both types of tacos are different but delicious. The ones Rachel and Sylvia made for all of us tonight, outstanding. They really did their research on what spices you need, and they heated up the tortillas in a pan with olive oil to make them extra tasty. Huge hit.
With plenty of steam keeping us company I inform everyone, "Sylvia shared with Laura and I that she wants to change rooms to the one Dax and I are staying in. I was thinking maybe we could all help them.” The Brooklyn girls, Marco, and Laura, are listening as if they think it’s a good idea, too, so I continue, “Last night, while I was lying in bed, I checked out our room, and I think it could fit her king-size bed in it. They were talking about getting a queen, for size, and switching out the old bed since she had it with her ex-husband. But maybe she could just switch out the mattress, and that would be the fresh start she’s looking for? Or get a whole new bed later after we’ve all helped to switch everything out?”
“That could be her call,” Laura says, adding an enthusiastic, “But this is a great idea.”
Michelle begins, “All of us helping," with Sienna finishing, "We could get the rooms changed out in no time. Why do they want to switch?"
Marco, ever aware of his divorce, surmises correctly, “Too many memories of her Ex.”
The girls nod understanding, and Michelle says, "I moved entire apartments after I broke up with my last one."
The memory is in Sienna’s eyes as she says, “Best thing you ever did was drop that guy."
Laura tells them about how I still talk to my ex and the three of them, the Brooklyn girls and Marco, listen in rapt attention, every one of them confessing that none speaks to an ex.
