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Not so much that first full day back in Astoria. Whether it was just the tiredness of moving and having Stephanie over, or a sense of relaxation that came from being home, I slept like a rock. I hadn’t set the alarm to wake me up because I didn’t have any specific time I needed to be out of the house. But it was still the sound of my phone that woke me out of the deep sleep. Reaching over to where I’d left the phone sitting on its charger on the bedside table, I looked at the screen.
“Hey, Mom,” I said.
“Are you still asleep, honey?” she asked.
I pulled myself up to sit and leaned against the headboard. “Yeah. I must have been more wiped out than I thought.”
“Well, you did drive for almost four days. I would think that would get to you. I was calling to see if you’re still coming for lunch.”
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost twelve thirty.”
“Oh, wow. Yeah. I’m sorry I’m late. Give me just a bit and I’ll be there.”
“No rush. I gave your father his medicine a little while ago, so he’s resting. See you soon,” she said.
We got off the phone, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Rather than hitting the floor, my feet landed on something soft. It let out a muffled grunt, and I realized I’d tried to stand up on Stephanie. Pulling my feet back, I looked down and saw her curled up under a blanket.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
“Actually, it’s afternoon,” I told her.
The blanket snapped back from her head, and she looked at me with wide, frantic eyes. “What?”
“It’s almost twelve thirty.”
She scrambled to get up. “Oh, shit. I’m going to be late.”
“So, I guess that’s a no to coming over to my parents’ house for lunch?” I asked.
Stephanie dug through her duffel bag and pulled out clothes. “I’d really like to, but I can’t. I have a meeting with some clients this afternoon.”
She bounced around the room getting into her clothes, and I did my best not to laugh at her. Finally dressed, she swept her thick blonde hair back into a ponytail, looked at her makeup in the mirror like she was contemplating fixing it up, then shook her head.
“I’ll tell them you said hi. They’re going to want you to come over soon,” I said.
“Definitely. I’ll give you a call later.”
She kissed me on my cheek and ran out of the apartment. I gave myself a second to laugh at her. Stephanie may have a severe case of FOMO, but she also tended to be right on the edge of spinning out of control a good portion of the time. The two combined to create a person that was nothing if not totally unpredictable. I missed her so much in Michigan. Being able to be with her more than once every couple of months was a definite plus to coming home.
I got up and took a fast shower before getting dressed. By the time I got to my parents’ house, Mom had already fixed a massive lunch and had it sitting out on the kitchen table. The dining room was just a few steps away, pristine as always. For the vast majority of the year, it sat there like it didn’t exist. It was attached to the kitchen, separated only by a swinging door, but no one acknowledged it. The table was clean and empty except for a lacy runner. The china cabinet in the corner held a massive collection of formal dishes and crystal, sleeping away on the shelves. No one went in there except for twice a month when Mom went in to dust and polish the furniture.
But then November came, and it was the dining room’s time to shine. Everything lit up with an explosion of color and activity. The fancy dishes came out, and fall-themed decor filled the corners and studded the runner, all in preparation for Thanksgiving. As soon as that weekend was over, everything shifted to Christmas with greenery and tall candles. Come December twenty-sixth, it was all cleaned up and quiet once more.
To me, that was the ultimate sign of being an adult. You weren’t really all the way grown up until you had a dining room you didn’t use for most of the year.
Mom hugged me tightly, then went into the living room where they had set up a hospital bed for my father. With both legs broken and recuperating after surgery, he was bedbound. The bed setup in the living room meant he could still be involved with what was going on in the house. It also meant Mom could have the entire bed in the master bedroom to herself. But I knew her well enough to know she slept curled up on the couch every night. Nothing would convince her to be away from my father if she had any other option. I made a mental note to look into finding her a fold-out couch so at least she could be more comfortable.
