We watch the water flow and the sun continue to rise before she asks, “How is Danny?”
I wish I had a better answer. “Too happy.”
“I get that.” She nods.
The creek’s water travels and gurgles in front of me. Its sounds are rhythmic and soothing, yet they bring me to tears.
“This is all going to kick his ass.”
“Yes, it is. But you’ll be there for him.” She tastes the muffin and follows with a sip of coffee. “Damn, I’m still a decent baker, huh?”
After I try a bite, I have to agree. “Maybe we can make dinner together tonight?”
“I’ll try to keep up with you, but sure.”
“You’ll keep up with me.”
By now, I know my path on the creek’s stones by heart, and I slip off the deck and balance on rocks and enjoy the rush of the water. “As you brought up the other night, we really are lot more alike than I ever thought, but it’s nice to find that out.”
“We are.”
“What about Erica?” My feet step from rock to rock.
“What about her?”
“I mean, I don’t really have a relationship with her, but you always have. Why? I don’t get it.”
She rolls up her pants and joins me in walking over rocks and through the cold water, and she relishes in the moments of soaking her feet in the deep cold more than I do before she plants herself on two smooth surfaces and finds balance. “I love her because she’s my daughter. She found herself in LA, and she’s happy there. I know you don’t respect her or understand her. I accept that you might never have a relationship with her. The way she paints her face? Her makeup tutorials and her online presence? It isn’t particularly meaningful, and it’s not anything like what Danny does, but she has her followers, and she’s found her place.”
“So, that crazy contouring makeup shit of hers is still popular?”
“Still as viral as ever.”
“I’m not sure that I’m ever going to be close with Erica,” I admit. “I’m sorry about that. We’re at least talking now though. Texting a bit. Not something that I ever would have predicted. Maybe it’s a bit of groundwork, but I don’t know.”
“That makes me so happy. But no pressure, okay?” Mom takes a few more steps over the rocks. “I also don’t really have a connection with Erica. It might look like we have one, but we don’t really. It’s always easy to like her makeup posts.” She hops onto another stone and pauses. “My connection with her has never been complicated because it’s never had the potential that ours does.”
Hearing her mentionourpotential makes me so damn happy.
“So, maybe my relationship with her should be next up on my apparent family-repair tour,” my mom continues. “Hey? How about we hurl ourselves into that gorgeous lake before I have to leave tomorrow?”
I scrape myself up from last night’s haze and my poor sleep. “I’m in.”
Our leaps off the dock make wonderful noise, and we throw splashes and laughter around.
I watch as she turns to float on her back, barely moving, blissfully letting the soft current blow her body where it wants. Just a few feet here or there, but she’s surrendering to those small pushes, and I know how awesome that feels.
After swimming, drifting on floaties, finding time to talk, and also finding time to say nothing, I ask, “Mind if I head into the kitchen? I’m thinking about prepping lunch. Brie, avocado, turkey, tomato, and spicy aioli on sourdough. Sound okay?”
“I’m ordering a hundred!” My mom splashes about.
After I call out that lunch is ready, she’s seated at one of the picnic tables very quickly, and it’s so cool to see her pump a fist as she chomps through the first few bites.
Before I ask what I want to—need to—I let both of us enjoy our food and wait until we are finishing up. “Mom? Last night? With Andie?”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was so proud of you.”
