Tuesday Night Miracles (44 page)

49

Reality Is a Piece of Cake

I
t’s eight in the morning the day after Thanksgiving, and Kit has already set up the tables at the fire station, filled them with clothes and an assortment of treasures, and made a huge pot of coffee which she has plugged into the outside outlet, when Grace backs her car up the sidewalk and jumps out the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” she yells as three other women get out of the car and follow her. “I totally forgot how hard it is to live with a mess of women and one bathroom.”

It looks like a small parade as the trunk is popped open, boxes are pulled from everywhere, and all four women march toward Kit.

“This is my daughter Kelli, my daughter Megan, and—” Grace has stopped in midsentence and appears to be searching for a word. “Well, I suppose Jenny is my daughter-in-law. Is that right?”

Megan starts to laugh. “I guess you could say that,” she says, setting down her box of treasures. “We’re not that big on the whole gay-marriage thing considering divorce statistics. No offense, Mom, but you can still call Jenny your daughter-in-law. That’s sweet.”

“Well, my marriage did bring me you and your sister, so that’s one good thing,” Grace decides. Then she stops again, as if she wants to change her mind. “Most days it’s a good thing.”

“Oh, Mom!” Kelli shouts. “That’s not nice!”

“It might not be nice, but it’s true.”

“Girls!” Kit finally says, clapping her hands as she laughs. “No fighting! Dr. Bayer might show up and revoke our diplomas.”

Kit is determined to have the rummage sale of the century. She quickly orders Grace’s girls to go post signs on every corner for four blocks. She hands Grace stickers to put prices on what she has just brought, and she stops in mid-stride when Grace asks her how Thanksgiving dinner turned out.

“It was quiet,” Kit says, lowering her head but still smiling. “My daughter didn’t make it. It was just Peter and me, but we spent a lot of time talking and we—I’ll tell you later, but I think our lives are headed in a new and very interesting direction.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Later! How was your Thanksgiving?”

Before she has a chance to answer, another car pulls up and a tall, handsome man gets out and waves to Grace.

“Evan?” Kit asks.

Grace’s smile could light up a large cave. “I invited him to dinner yesterday. Was that brave or what? He wants to help out today. I’m tired of saying no.”

“Good for you, Grace,” Kit says as Evan takes boxes out of his car and walks toward them.

“Evan, Kit. Kit, Evan.”

Evan is delightful, and clearly smitten with Grace. Kit decides that she would have loved to have been a silent observer during dinner. Good for Grace! She’s finally embraced her daughter and her daughter’s life, and taken a step toward her own happiness. And she hasn’t been struck by lightning.

Kit ponders her own accomplishments as Evan and Grace unpack boxes and commence giggling as they bump into each other and make-believe-argue over prices for everything they need to put stickers on.

She’s happy for Grace and her daughters, but seeing them together also makes her own heart ache. Kit understands that it’s impossible for her daughter to share every holiday with her, but her absence at last night’s terribly lonely dinner has left an ache that she can’t seem to erase. Peter, with all his wonderfulness, has tried to tell her she has always been a great mom.

“I’m not going to lie to you about mistakes either one of us made, Kit,” he said, gently holding her hands. “No parent is perfect. Our daughter loves both of us. It hasn’t been easy for me to let her go, either.”

How did Peter get so wise? Kit so wanted to believe him, and even as she knew she was moving forward she still wanted a chance to ask Sarah to forgive her, to tell her daughter that she was sorry for anything that she had said or done when she had been angry. Peter totally supported her decision to seek counseling and to take more time off to focus on herself before she went back to work, which wasn’t even necessary now, considering the inheritance from her parents.

And then, while Peter ravaged her pumpkin pie, something shifted inside Kit. It was a small idea that had grown larger each day until she blurted out her thoughts. Peter, unfazed, totally agreed, and then they talked for hours while the gravy got cold, the turkey cooled, and their new plans made them absolutely three steps beyond happy. Now Kit has to sit on her own tongue. She wants to tell everyone. But not yet. Not until the sale is in full swing.

And where is Peter? Damn it! He jumped up before she could even finish her coffee, grabbed his coat, and said he would meet her at the fire station. She needs him to open the doors so they can have access to the restrooms and bring out the rest of the items for the sale. She thought he was coming straight to the firehouse, but his car isn’t in the lot behind the garage. Men!

Kit is growling when a mess of cars park one after another on the street and a herd of women who look like stalkers start swarming toward the tables.

“Hey!” Kit shouts, as Grace rushes forward. “The sale doesn’t start for another hour! We aren’t even set up yet!”

Grace senses danger. The women act as if they haven’t even heard Kit. They’re pushing around the tables and fondling dishes and old jeans as if they own the entire block.

“Excuse me,” Grace says. “We would really appreciate it if you would please come back when we’re ready.”

A tiny woman carrying a huge red shopping bag finally looks up. “We do this all the time, honey,” she says, as if that is supposed to make everything okay. “Just don’t mind us.”

Don’t mind us? Kit and Grace exchange glances, and it’s clear that they’re are both an inch away from grabbing all the marauders by the neck and throwing them off the street. Grace closes her eyes and imagines what would happen next if Jane were there. She almost misses Jane’s smart mouth and sassy attitude.

This could go either way, and Grace is wondering if it isn’t some kind of test. Did Dr. Bayer send these women over here to rile them up? Are these shopping-bag bruisers even worth it? If these women roam the city with their rummage-sale swagger, maybe it’s because they have nothing else to do. And wouldn’t a brawl at a domestic-violence fund-raiser be one of the most ridiculous things that could happen? Grace actually snorts, thinking about what that might look like.

Before she can say or do anything Kit steps it up. “Go ahead and look, ladies,” she says, surrendering. “We’re here to sell. Grace, do you think Evan can be our banker? He’s an accountant, isn’t he?”

Evan is already on it. He’s got a change box and is setting up a small table close to the sidewalk.

“My mother is the rummage-sale queen of the world,” he shares. “I think I was in my twenties before I even knew you could go to a store and buy things that were new.”

Kit and Grace exchange another glace. Kit winks, Grace melts another inch, and then it’s as if someone turned on a spigot of activity. The van from the shelter arrives and Leah, her kids, and three other women get out with more boxes. Grace’s girls come back and persuade the firefighters to open the big doors and bring out not one but two fire trucks.

There is still no Peter, but Kit simply doesn’t have time to worry about where in the world he went on his secret morning errand. He took the day off so he could pose in his uniform with parents and kids who will surely be flocking to the station very soon.

Just before the actual starting time for the sale, at 9
A.M.
, when everything looks about as lovely and organized as it’s going to get, the fire-station supervisor taps Kit on the shoulder.

“I’m afraid that you’re going to have to move everything back another three feet,” he announces. “We need more clearance in case we have to use the trucks for a fire.”

“And you waited until now to tell me?” Kit is fuming.

“We were having a meeting. I’m sorry. Can you move everything as fast as possible?”

Kit pauses and looks up. Is this whole day going to be one big test? Grace appears next to her and looks up also. Then Leah.

This is the moment that Dr. Bayer and Phyllis come strolling up the sidewalk. Phyllis is on a leash and dying to get over to the tires on the fire truck. Olivia can’t help herself. She starts laughing so loudly that all three of the women stare at her.

“Are you looking for something?” she asks them.

“No,” Kit explains. “We’re pausing to take a breath.”

Dr. Bayer looks up and sees nothing but a lovely slice of blue sky.

“I love this technique. What a great idea!”

Now everyone starts to laugh. Kit explains that they must quickly move everything after spending the past hour setting it all up.

“Well, that’s not a big deal, is it?” Olivia asks. “Look at all these hands.”

And, just like that, Phyllis gets to play with Leah’s two children and the four women move everything so quickly that the supervisor is astonished when he comes back out with three firefighters to help them and the work is already done.

They turn on their heels to go back inside before Kit can ask if anyone knows what has happened to Peter. Kit does not have time to worry, though, because people are starting to paw through the tables. Grace is motioning to her to come over and help.

Dr. Bayer shoos Kit away and says she’ll hang out by the fire truck until Peter arrives. She’s absolutely delighted to stand back and let everyone else run around.

Phyllis, of course, is mad with happiness. She’s chasing balls, and being petted every three seconds, and the smells around the firehouse are so luscious that she’s forgotten about her old hips.

Olivia is surprised at how much fun it is to simply watch people and observe them not as a psychologist but as an innocent bystander.

Leah, Kit, and Grace are having fun, and they probably don’t even know it. Kit is holding up shirts for a woman who wants to see if they will fit her daughter, who is about Kit’s size; Leah is explaining to a man how to work a playpen toy; and Grace is moving her hands in circles while another man haggles about the price of three old hammers.

So this is what happens in the real world the day after Thanksgiving. How lovely! Lovely until three little boys come up to Olivia and ask if they can get on the fire truck.

“Oh, dear.” Olivia has no idea what to do now. “Can you wait a moment and I’ll go find out?”

Three heads go up and down and the boys stand in awe by the back of the truck as Olivia tries to find someone to help her. Before she can take more than a few steps a man, dressed in full firefighter’s gear, rubber boots and all, runs to the truck.

“I’m Peter,” he tells Olivia. “Kit’s husband. I had to go get someone. I’ll handle the fire truck. I bet you’re Dr. Bayer. Turn around and watch Kit for a second.”

Kit looks hilarious. She now has on a wild Hawaiian shirt someone donated for the sale and an old cowboy hat, and a young woman is walking toward her very slowly, waiting, it appears, for Kit to notice her.

Then Kit looks up and screams.

“Sarah!”

“Hi, Mom. I tried so hard to get here yesterday but the boat never showed up. Daddy and I wanted to surprise you. Happy Thanksgiving.”

Sarah is in Kit’s arms within seconds and there are tears everywhere, including on Olivia’s face.

“How lovely, Peter!”

“I know,” he said, beaming. “It was so hard to keep this a secret because, well, you know, Kit is always wanting to have her fingers in everything. She needs this visit, and Sarah needs it, too. Did Kit tell you the other news?”

“No. I’m afraid to ask.”

“Can you keep a secret?” Peter asks, hoisting a little boy onto the back of the truck.

“It’s what I do for a living, and I’m pretty good at it.”

Peter laughs. “It’s a wonder Kit and the girls didn’t put you under.”

“They almost did. Talk about a journey and a half.”

“Well, from my perspective it’s working. My old Kit’s coming back. I can’t tell you how hard she’s trying.”

“That’s good news, Peter. It helps to have someone love you.”

“Ah, shucks,” he says shrugging. “It’s really pretty easy to love her.”

Olivia can clearly see what a kind man he is. Lucky Kit. And lucky Grace, too. Evan can’t take his eyes off her, and those have to be her daughters and the girlfriend. The daughters look exactly like their mother.

Peter stands guard near the boys, and Olivia can’t help herself. She’s dying to know the secret.

“The secret?” she says, leaning in close to him.

“We’re going to ask Leah and her kids to move in with us,” Peter says in a whisper. “We have the room, Kit can help with the kids, and she really wants to do this. Sarah knows, and she’s thrilled.”

“Oh, Peter! How absolutely wonderful!”

Olivia almost staggers. She’s feeling so emotional that she’s beginning to wonder if she hasn’t thrown herself back into menopause. All these changes, these women, the last class. Even Jane’s failure is probably a good thing. Jane might not see it that way, but she has issues that run much, much deeper than uncontrolled anger.