“I’ll do that,” I said.
“Even though it’s casual, you need to look hot,” Annie said with a wink.
“Hot? That’s a tall order.”
“Not like your perfect gallery look or your stained overalls when you’re working, but something cute and hip.” She jumped from the bed. “Actually, I know just the outfit.”
She went to the closet and pulled out a pair of boyfriend jeans and a sage green, tight-fitting T-shirt. “This is perfect for a date at the beach. Oh, and your cute yellow sweatshirt with the hood.” She placed them on the bed as if designing a store window display.
“Wait, how do you know where we’re going?”
“He told me today at work,” Annie said. “He didn’t make it sound like a secret, so I don’t think he’ll mind.”
“Men don’t understand how hard it is to pick something to wear when you don’t know where you’re going.” I sat on the ottoman to pull on the jeans. “Will you pick out earrings for me? Top drawer.”
Annie muttered to herself as she looked through my collection. “Too sparkly. Too dangly.” I heard her moving things around, then she went quiet.
“Mom, what’s this?”
Something in her voice made me look up.
She was holding a small wooden box with a brass clasp that I’d had since my twenties. “What’s in here?”
I crossed the room. For a moment I just looked at it in her hands. I could have taken it from her and put it back saying something like,nothing, just old thingsand changed the subject. A week ago I might have done just that. But tonight? I was going out on a date for the first time in six years. This was forward motion. I needed to keep it up.
“Open it,” I said.
She unclasped it carefully. Inside, nested in the velvet lining I’d cut from an old jewelry box years ago, were two rings. A plain gold band and a slightly thinner one with a small diamond that caught the last of the evening light coming through the curtains. Beneath them, folded into a soft square, was a menu from the restaurant near the campus where her father and I had been students. Underneath that, were two photographs.
Annie picked up the first one.
It was of Jon and me on our first date, eighteen years old and broke. I had on a blue cotton dress that was the nicest thing I owned in those days. Jon had on a T-shirt with our art school logo on it and baggy jeans. He’d worn his hair long then, but that night it was pulled back into a short ponytail. I’d thought he was the coolest guy I’d ever met.
“You look so young,” Annie said.
“We were. That’s from our first date. The owner took it for us.”
“Where is this?”
“A little Italian place near school. Tiny, maybe ten tables. The owner had a cat that slept on the counter.” Kind of like Poe, only he was a tuxedo. “The food was so good. Huge portions, which we appreciated back then.”
Annie looked up at me. “This is where you went? That first night?”
“Yep. When we first met, we were just friends, even though I was already half in love with him by the time he finally got me to agree to a date. He’d asked three or four times.” I sat on the edge of the bed, tears lying in wait at the backs of my eyes. I could not cry and ruin my makeup.
After a moment, Annie sat beside me, still holding the photograph.
“Why did you keep saying no?” Annie asked.
I looked at the photograph of the girl I’d been, sitting in that restaurant in her nicest dress, so full of hope. “I had rules. No getting involved with classmates. I’d worked too hard to get to that school to let anything derail me. My mother had told me I was wasting my time going. She said art school was for people who could afford to fail. I was determined to prove her wrong.” I paused. “Men were a distraction I couldn’t afford.”
“So what changed your mind?”
“He started leaving things outside my dorm room door every morning.” I could still see them, those small offerings lined up on the threshold. “A flower one day. A muffin the next. A paperback he thought I’d like. A packet of colored pencils when he saw mine were worn down to stubs. And then one morning I opened the door and there was a small paper envelope with seeds inside. Peony seeds. With a note that saidfor whatever garden you make wherever you end up.”
Annie didn’t move a muscle. “Oh, Mom. I didn’t know that.”
“Those seeds are out there.” I gestured toward the garden. “I planted them in pots at our first apartment, and they went with us wherever we moved. Now they bloom every summer, reminding me that someone had once loved me enough to know exactly what I wanted. Something beautiful. Peonies. My favorite flower.”
