Recipe for a Happy Life: A Novel (32 page)

“I think that Gray would have liked for both boys to walk with you,” my grandmother says.

So that’s how we walk into the funeral. Led by my grandmother and Adan, I walk to the front row with Hunter on one side, Nate on the other.

*   *   *

I try to scan the crowd as I walk down the aisle with Hunter and Nate, but it’s hard. Priya is waiting for us when we get to the front row, and she hugs me before I sit down. The rabbi gives a beautiful sermon, and then it’s time for people to speak.

First up is one of my mother’s editors, and then her agent gives a tearful good-bye. A few friends speak, and then the ceremony is almost over.

Nate leans over and asks me if I want to say a few words, but I shake my head no.

“You don’t have to,” Hunter says, and grabs my hand.

“Thank you,” I say, but then I find myself standing up, headed toward the altar anyway.

“My mother would have hated this,” I say. The crowd erupts into a fit of laughter, which calms my nerves a bit, but I realize that I have no idea what I’m about to say.

“My mother and I didn’t always get along. In fact, for most of my adult life, we barely spoke. She never really understood me, and I never really understood her, but spending all of this time out here together this summer, something happened. It’s like we were both able to step outside of ourselves for a minute and really see the other person. For the first time in our lives.

“Now that I’m having a baby of my own, I understand what’s really important. My mother once told me that she named me Hannah because Hannah means ‘grace,’ that I’m a part of her. Just as this baby will be a part of me. But the truth is, this baby will also be a part of her.

“I know that I’ll miss my mother with all my heart for the rest of my life, but I can take solace in the fact that I’ll always have a part of her inside of me, and so will my child. So, in that way, she will never be forgotten. She’ll always be with us.”

The rabbi shakes my hand once I’m done and I go back to my seat. Nate grabs my hand and I sob uncontrollably.

Fifty-five

Shiva is the weeklong period of mourning in Judaism. It begins immediately after the funeral. Traditionally, family members and close family friends gather at the home of a family member to mourn. It is customary for neighbors and close family friends to supply the food, as mourners are not supposed to eat their own food, especially on the first day of shiva. Mourners do not bathe or shower, nor do they wear leather shoes or jewelry. Any and all mirrors in the house are covered, and the mourners themselves are supposed to sit on hard stools or low boxes.

Shiva in the Hamptons is an altogether different animal.

My grandmother’s house is completely filled with people, and I can barely get through the crowd without one person or another stopping me to tell me how sorry they are. The entire town of Southampton has turned out. Jaime does not show up.

I didn’t really expect him to.

The house is crowded with all of the guests, but my grandmother told me that she didn’t want to do it outside, since that would be more festive than the occasion merited. But still, it’s not an entirely somber scene. But for the fact that it is my mother’s shiva, it would be quite a nice party. A caterer’s been called in, and my grandmother’s party planner is flitting about. I wonder for a moment whether she’s ever planned a soiree on such short notice. Is it possible that they started planning this a few weeks ago? I try not to think about that and instead stuff a puffed pastry in my mouth, courtesy of a passing waiter.

I look around the room and don’t know quite what to do with myself. I feel completely empty inside. Like I’ll never be able to feel anything ever again. How am I supposed to be with all of these people right after my mother has died? I don’t want to make small talk. I don’t want to talk about how amazingly talented she was. If I hear one more person tell me that her work will live on for the rest of time, I will shove a stuffed mushroom cap right into his or her face.

Skylar fights through the crowd and finds me. She gives me a cold glass of water and tells me that we should sneak out to meet the boys outside. That’s exactly how she says it, “the boys,” and I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. An escape. The perfect plan. I know that the new me doesn’t run away from things anymore, but surely there’s an exception for the day you bury your mother.

“That’s a fantastic idea, Sky,” I say, and she grabs my hand to lead me through the crowd. I notice that her fingernails are painted hot pink. I decide that I should paint my fingernails hot pink, too.

“Oh,” she says, turning back to face me. She grabs both of my hands, looks me straight in the eye, and says: “I’m really sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks, honey,” I say. I know that it was hard for her to say these words, and that only makes them more meaningful.

She gives my hands a little squeeze and then turns again to navigate our way through the crowd. Through the myriad of faces, I catch a glimpse of Adan, sitting on the couch. He’s surrounded by people and deep in conversation, but I can tell that he feels terribly alone. I recognize this because I feel the same way.

“Mind if we make a quick detour?” I ask Skylar. She nods—a “whatever you want” sort of gesture—and we head toward the couch.

“Hannah,” a familiar voice says, and I feel his hand on my arm.

“Tim,” I say. I try to hide the surprise in my voice, but I’m shocked to see such a senior partner from my firm here.

“I was so sorry to hear about your mother,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say as Skylar comes to stand by my side. Did Hunter tell her that she was not allowed to leave me alone today? “This is my friend, Skylar.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tim says, and now it’s his turn to hide the surprise in his face. I know he’s wondering why I’ve made friends with a fourteen-year-old, but I try not to think about it.

I think of my mom as I instinctively look down at Tim’s hands. Still prep-school-boy perfect.

“It was really nice of you to come today,” I say.

“You know how I feel about you,” Tim says. I don’t want to tell him that, in fact, I do not actually know how he feels about me. Does it even matter? “I know it’s been rocky with the firm, but I’m here as a friend.”

“Thanks,” I say. I don’t really know what else to say. Shiva talk is nothing if not awkward.

“For now, you should just concentrate on you,” Tim says. “If you need anything, though, I hope you know you can always call me.”

“I appreciate that. And I’m really looking forward to seeing you in the fall.”

“We’re all really happy to have you back,” Tim says, putting his hand on my arm.

“Thanks,” I say, and really mean it. “Thank you so much.”

*   *   *

Forty minutes later, we’ve met Tim’s whole family, along with a number of Adan’s friends from his tennis club. Skylar is probably about ready to kill me, but I give her major credit, because she keeps smiling the whole time. When we’re done talking to Tim and his family, I tell her that I want to meet her parents to tell them how wonderful she is and she tells me that yes, her parents are here, but no, I may not meet them because it is Time. To. Meet. The. Boys.

So I let her lead me out toward the pool. It’s late afternoon already, that magical time when it’s not quite nighttime, but it’s no longer day. The sun is in just the right place in the sky and the breeze from the water is cool and refreshing. I could live in this time of day.

Nate and Hunter are sprawled out on lounge chairs, and as we approach, Nate sits upright and pats the lounge chair, telling me where he wants me to sit down. They’ve got two pitchers in between them—water and iced tea—and an open bottle of white wine. I pick up a glass and pour myself some iced tea. In an instant, I realize that this isn’t the iced tea that my grandmother’s chef has been making us all summer. This is the tea from China that my mother drinks. They must have steeped it and then let it cool down since they knew I’d be drinking the iced tea. I look up from my first sip and everyone’s staring at me, just waiting for my reaction.

“It’s delicious,” I say. “Thanks, guys.”

“Skylar made it,” Hunter proudly says.

“It was Nate’s idea,” Skylar says, smiling toward Nate.

“Thank you,” I say, and look up at Nate. He kisses me lightly on the lips.

Nate puts his arms around me, and we look out at the ocean together. His arms around me are like a blanket—they make me feel safe and warm. We stay like this awhile, just sitting silently and staring out at the ocean, listening to the waves crash on the sand.

“So, this is where the real party is.”

We all whip our heads around to find my grandmother standing behind us, right at the edge of our lounge chairs. Nate and Hunter both practically fall over themselves to offer her a seat, but she says that she prefers to stand.

“How are you holding up?” I ask her.

“That’s what I was coming out here to ask you.”

“Not great,” I say. “I feel like my insides have been torn out. But I’m trying to breathe again, so I guess that’s an improvement.”

“Same here,” my grandmother says. She picks up the bottle of white wine and pours herself an enormous glass before sitting down next to Hunter and Skylar. She takes a few sips—gulps really—and looks out at the ocean.

I’m suddenly overcome with the desire to jump right into the water. It’s as if I feel dirty and it will make me clean. As if immersing myself will make everything better, let me start over again.

“I’m just going to walk out to the ocean for a sec,” I say under my breath, and get up to walk out to the beach. I hear Nate jump up behind me and then some grumbling as everyone decides to follow suit.

But I can’t stop walking. I walk through the sand, faster and faster, even though the tiny grains try to slow down my feet. Nate catches up to me and I let him grab my hand, but I keep walking. I walk until I reach the edge of the water, where the waves lick the sand. I wade in, until the water hits my knees, and I’m vaguely aware that Nate must be getting his pants soaked, but I keep going. I don’t want to stop.

And then we’re in up to our shoulders, Nate and I. We’re both completely submerged, and I can breathe once more. I release my hand from Nate’s and bring it up to my face, splashing the cool water all over my face and my hair. I glance over at Nate and he’s just looking at me.

“You okay?” he asks tentatively. He doesn’t look scared exactly, but he does look a bit confused.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes.” I dunk my head into the water, and when I resurface, I see Hunter and Skylar coming into the water, too. Hunter throws off his sports jacket before coming in, but they both come in completely clothed.

The dress I wore to my mother’s funeral is soaked, completely ruined, I’m sure, but I don’t care. It feels right.

“My pants are really heavy now,” Hunter says to Nate. Nate laughs and tells Hunter that his are, too.

I look back to the edge of the water and see my grandmother slowly making her way into the waves. I swim toward her, and we meet just as she’s knee deep.

“We should turn back and go into the house to dry off,” I say, trying to lead her back onto the sand.

“I want to go in, too,” she says quietly, so we walk right back into the water, fully clothed, holding hands.

“Come on in,” Nate calls to us, “the water’s fine!”

The truth is, the water’s a bit chilly, but my grandmother and I laugh as we swim out to everyone else.

“This feels good,” my grandmother says to me as we wade deeper and deeper into the ocean.

“I know,” I say back. I lean my head back and the cold water feels good on my head.

“Are there sharks out here?” Skylar asks, and for some reason, it’s the funniest thing I ever heard.

“One or two sharks have been spotted out here,” Hunter says, in all seriousness. “But they normally don’t come this close to shore, so we should be okay.”

I see Nate go under the water and I know what’s coming next: a blood-curdling scream let out by Skylar, whose ankle he’s just grabbed.

“That is not funny!” she screams, splashing water at Nate as he comes up for air.

“It was a little funny,” Nate says, and looks to Hunter.

“It wasn’t funny at all,” Hunter says, swimming over to Skylar and putting his arms around her. As she hugs him and puts her back toward Nate, Hunter gives Nate the “thumbs-up” signal and smiles widely.

“I think we’ve all had enough,” I say, and just like that, we all head back to the shore.

My grandmother has us all take off our wet clothes in the mud room and then provides a change of clothing for each and every one. And then, with our wet heads and makeup dripping, we go back to see our fellow mourners.

At around nine o’clock, the guests start leaving. Hunter and Skylar say their good-byes (although Skylar gives Nate the cold shoulder), and I tell Nate that I’d like to spend some time alone with my grandmother, so maybe he should head home for the night.

“I’m not leaving you,” Nate says with a laugh, as if I’ve just suggested the silliest thing he’s ever heard. “I’ll go upstairs to bed. You hang out with your grandmother as long as you like, but I’ll be up there waiting when you’re ready.”

I don’t really want Nate to go home, not really. I’m glad that he’ll be upstairs waiting for me when I’m ready, but I wonder how he knows that. He kisses me on the forehead and then hops up the stairs before I have a moment to respond to him.

I walk into the kitchen and find my grandmother sitting at the counter, watching a kettle boil up some hot water for tea. I sit down next to her and don’t say a word.

She puts her arm around me and says: “It’s just you and me now, kiddo.”

I used to love it when it was just my grandmother and me. In fact, I longed for times when I could have her all to myself. I understand why everyone falls in love with her, why men fall at their feet for the chance to be near her. Because that’s how I feel, too. That’s how I’ve felt about her my whole life. As I sit next to her at the kitchen counter, I realize that even with everything’s that happened, her secrets completely exposed, the way I feel about her hasn’t changed. I see her differently now, but I still love her. And I don’t feel angry anymore.