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Amidst all of this, however, there are glimpses of hope. Lights are still shining out there, showing us the way. People helping their elderly neighbors. Musicians putting on impromptu performances on balconies. Whole cities cheering and clapping for healthcare workers. Then there are the signs that even love will find a way. A boy sending messages to a girl in a neighboring building by drone. A husband standing outside his wife’s nursing center holding a sign and balloons to celebrate their sixty-seventh anniversary.
Love and life will persevere. It has to.
In the meantime, I have wine.
Feeling morose and missing my parents, I pull out my cell phone and give them a call. Her voice is an instant balm to my battered soul right now.
“Mom, hey.”
“Sadie? Are you okay? It’s quarter to ten.”
“But you were still awake, right?” I ask, because she doesn’t sound sleepy. Slightly put out perhaps, but not sleepy. “I didn’t realize it was after nine there already. Sorry.”
“Your father and I were just reading in bed. How are you, sweetheart?”
Glass of wine in hand, I sit back in my seat, sock-covered feet up on my desk. Because comfort and liquid refreshments are important. “Fine. Good. Yeah. I was just watching a video about how to properly clean your groceries and wanted to make sure you were aware that you needed to be doing that.”
A pause. “And this couldn’t wait until the morning?”
“It’s important.”
Mom sighs. “I wasn’t aware of it, Sadie. But rest assured, I’ll look up the information tomorrow and see what they’re advising.”
“I’ll e-mail it to you,” I offer. Anything to distract me from the world and the book I should be writing.
“All right, dear.”
“It’s really important that we start doing this now, okay? How’s Dad?”
“Much better. The book of crosswords you sent is giving him a headache, but the flu seems to be just about gone. He’s still resting and taking it easy, though.”
“Good. That’s good.” I smile even though she can’t see me. “I have something to tell you. Something important.”
“Besides the need to bleach the groceries?”
“You don’t bleach them, Mom. You wipe everything down with a disinfectant wipe. Like Clorox or whatever you’ve got. Even the cardboard because the virus can live on all sorts of surfaces for longer than you’d think.”
“Understood,” she says. “So what’s so important that you have to call us at this hour?”
“It’s not that late,” I grumble. Then I grin because this is happy news and I am determined to drag my mood out of the gutter. “Anyhoo, so I’ve met someone.”
“You met someone? How on earth did you meet someone with all of this going on?”
“He lives next door. He’s a professional athlete and a wonderful person and I think you’re going to love him.” I happy-sigh at just the thought of Evan. His smile. His body. His laugh. His everything. God, I’m so gaga about him. “We got to talking out on our balconies and really just sort of hit it off.”
“What’s Sean going to say about this?” asks Mom.
“Who gives a fuck?”
She clicks her tongue. “Sadie. Language. Have you been drinking, dear? You sound strange.”
“No. Of course not.” I take another sip of wine. “Well, maybe a glass or two. The point is, you need to forget about Sean. God knows I’ve been trying to, black hole of a man that he is. You know he rang me the other day to talk at me about his work. Not to me. At me. There’s a difference. He’s the most self-involved jerk I’ve ever met.”
“Sean rang you?” She sounds so hopeful I cringe.
“You’re missing the point here. Focus, Mom. Sean sucks, Evan rocks. That’s the state of affairs here. Now you’re up to date on my romantic adventures.”
A deep sigh from Mom this time. The sigh of so much disappointment. It worked on me up until about age eight or so. Still, it’s never stopped her from pulling it out of her arsenal. “All right, Sadie. Tell me about this new man. A professional athlete called Evan, I take it.”
In the background, deep mumbling commences.
“Your father wants to know what sport?” she asks.
“Football. He plays for the Oakland Marauders.”
Mom relays the information and Dad’s mumbling increases dramatically in both volume and duration. Oh, no. I have a sudden bad feeling about this. Dad follows sports, even those that aren’t golf. Why didn’t I think about this first? How best to break this information and present Evan and his recent troubles in the best light. Because I believe in his innocence and I am not going to tolerate any unnecessary, uninformed negative backlash.
If only I’d kept my mouth shut. Damn wine.
“Not…what was the name? Evan Sparks?” asks Mom, voice filled with concern. “Sadie, he’s a drug addict. What on earth are you thinking? Your father says he’s being kicked off the team for selling and using steroids. I know you took the breakup from Sean hard, dear. But is that really the kind of person you want to get involved with? Have you lost your mind?”
