Page 23 of Delayed Intention
With her next smile, she looks relieved.What the fuck had her family done for her to look that over the moon over common courtesy?I realize, just then, that I smile whenever she smiles. That’s not weird, though, right? I mean, of course, I’m pleased she can feel at ease with me. At the same time, I feel protective, like I want to have a conversation with anyone who contributed to her feeling like a burden. It’s a weird feeling to have for someone who isn’t a patient or my own family.
Before that first letter, some part of me, the angry teen with abandonment issues, had painted her a heartless, selfish person who dropped me as a friend. From the moment I’ve been in her presence, however, the impression that formed with her letter feels confirmed. She’s one strong wind away from being a wreck. Yet, in some ways, she’s grown into herself. I feel oddly responsible for helping her preserve what she’s been able to build up.
“Josh, that’s thoughtful of you. I’m notshomer Shabbat, like I said in my letter, but I would feel very weird getting hair and makeup done on a Saturday. Of course, Ellen knows that…” She let the rest die on the vine.
“How’s that whole thing going?”
“We’re still on a communication break for now. I wish I were stronger—I’d be able to talk to her if I could stand up to her when she pushes against my boundaries. I’ve had to accept that this is the best I can do for now, for the sake of self-preservation. Of course, I feel guilty, she’s my mother. But it’s as if I’ve recently woken up to how toxic our relationship is, and I can’t go back to just toeing the line anymore, you know?”
“I think I know what you mean. You’re having a rather revolutionary fall, I guess.”
“You could say that. It’s more than a little embarrassing to be in my thirties before making baby steps in not being bullied by my mother.”
That sense that I need to help shield her from difficulties surges again. Seeing her so diminished from the teen she was and her hopes for the woman she’d become—it’s doing something to me. Without my permission or hesitation, my hand goes to her arm again, and I rest my hand there. I meant it to be a momentary pat, but I’m lingering. We both look down at the point of contact.
“Lily, she’s the one who should be embarrassed. She’s a bully and hasn’t changed much, as far as I can tell. You are evolving and have every right to be proud of that fact.” I force myself to withdraw my hand and take another gulp of beer.
This is the second time I’ve touched her, and both have been… surprising. Just as when we were on the street earlier, it felt good to touch her, of course, but it’s my motive that has me confused. It doesn’t exactly feel like lust, although there’s no doubt that I think she’s hot. It’s more like I have an urge, now that she’s in front of me, to ground her, comfort her.Easy cowboy.
The pizza arrives, providing a welcome interruption. It’s delicious as always, and I eat a slice while I think about our interaction when I picked her up today, and how tense she was. She was tripping over herself, and yet the whole thing was adorable. Looking at the big picture, though, her fragility is concerning. How has the world not devoured her by now? It’s amazing, thinking about how narcissistic Ellen is, that Lily has any spark left in her at all. Again, I feel like I need to set up a protective force field around Lily. What exactly is happening to me?
I take a sip of water, trying to regain control of my thoughts. I realize Lily’s observing me, curiosity in her eyes, maybe seeing through me a bit. “Josh, are you okay? You look kind of… intense?” Unnerved, I start choking on a drink of water, I beat my chest, searching for oxygen. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe,” I manage. I need to redirect her attention and get her to stop looking at me like that. “I was thinking we have tomorrow off, and maybe we could go for a hike?”
Lily lights up. This is a different kind of smile, it’s as if a light has turned on somewhere inside her and is brightening her features from within. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We finished going over the schedule for the week and boxed up the rest of the pizza. I turn to her, “Do you feel like dessert, or do you want to head back and get settled into your cabin?”
I see something pass over her features that I can’t read.God, I kind of want to learn her expressions and what they mean.
“If you don’t mind, the drive here was rough on me. I need to sleep off the migraine meds I had to take on my way here. Maybe just a tea—but can we go to breakfast before our hike in the morning?”
“We can—you had a migraine on the way here? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay? Does that happen often?”
“I’m feeling much better. But the combination of abortive migraine meds and antiemetics is throwing me off my mental game a bit.” She bites her lower lip, pensive again. “And yes, I do get migraines a few times a month. Enough to walk around with meds anyway. Don’t worry about it, I’m a total pro at surviving them.”
“I’m sorry I dragged you out to dinner—if I’d known you weren’t feeling well… You could’ve rested,” I say to her.
“I’m not sorry at all if you want to know the truth. I’m glad we got to do this. We’re breaking the ice.” She smiles wryly.
She seems sincere when she says this, but I realize I’m having a hard time reconciling the woman before me and the girl I remember… One who was quick to say what other people wanted to hear and not what she meant. I wonder if she ever learned what she wants in life. How could I ask her without insulting her? Then again, why does it matter? I think I’m ready for something stronger than a beer.
“Josh.”
“Yep?”
“Do you all—I mean the Cohen family—know why our family stopped coming out here to visit after 2005?”
“You know how everyone is—the moms all talk to each other, but I wasn’t kept in the loop back then. Plus, I was in my own shit at the time.”
“I wasn’t in the know either, and my parents reframed everything to their narrative, saying my siblings needed to spend their summers in soccer and tennis camp, but I think that’s when Mom and Nona had the first part of their epic falling out. I think Nona tried to say some things to her about how she treats Dad and maybe the rest of us,” she pauses, and her face has an expression of guilt, like this is her fault and seriously,what the fuck, but she also looks like she’s fishing, searching my face to see if I know something. “Anyway, some other things happened, and Mom decided that for all of us it was better to stay home for holidays and stuff. The sad part about that is we stopped celebrating most of the holidays altogether.”
The hostess comes to our table, asking if we need anything else. Lily glances at me, looking for something… What, I’m not sure of.
I nod at Lily. “You go ahead—I’m all set.”
She turns back to the hostess, “I would love a decaf tea.”
Wishing I knew more of whatever’s going on in Lily’s head, I decide there and then I’ll call my mom to get more background on what Rose is getting me into here.
