Life was crowding in on her. Jack was home. Hal was home. She had finished treatment. So many prayers answered. And here it was, August 8, again. Tomorrow.
Every year, Buddy asked whether she wanted him to stay home. Every year she told him to go to work, assuring him that she would be all right and that they’d be together on the fourteenth. He always stayed home on the fourteenth.
She listened as Buddy and Jack banged in and out of the house, carrying boxes into the basement and garage. In the bathroom, Kathleen locked the door, unbuttoned her blouse, and forced herself to look in the mirror.
The scar wasn’t quite so red, the skin no longer chapped, but the breast didn’t seem to belong to her anymore. She stared at it. Her babies had nursed there. Buddy had fallen asleep there. Now, it looked like a war zone. “Armistice Day,” she whispered, buttoned her blouse, and readied a smile.
She walked into the kitchen but found Jack on the deck, ordering Buddy to wash down the weathered picnic table.
“Where did these come from?” Kathleen asked, fingering a set of peach-striped linens.
“Souvenirs from the big city.” Jack grinned. “I’m making you a fabulous dinner tonight.”
“So what else is new?” Kathleen smiled.
As the day’s heat faded into a cool seaside evening, Jack set out an old brass storm lantern he had brought with him, lit it, and pulled out a chair for Kathleen.
“Should we put that on the menu?” he asked about the grilled-eggplant appetizer, the marinated swordfish, the garlic mashed potatoes, the roasted asparagus.
“Why wouldn’t you?” said Kathleen. “It’s all delicious, Jack. You’ll be a big success, no doubt about it.”
“Can you get bread like this in Boston?” Buddy asked, twisting off another piece of the crusty baguette Jack had brought from Manhattan.
That launched them into a discussion of suppliers. Buddy asked if Jack would be part owner of the restaurant. “If you need a lawyer, David Koch has always been a stand-up guy for me.”
Kathleen watched the two of them talk business, approving of the way they listened to each other, seriously and generously.
“Earth to Mom,” Jack said gently, and put his hand on hers.
“Dessert?” he repeated.
“You had to ask?”
As Jack served warm peach upside-down cake, the phone rang. “It’s Hal,” Buddy announced, and handed the phone to Jack. “He wants to talk to you.”
Jack returned ten minutes later and announced that Hal probably wouldn’t be back until Friday.
“What’s Mom supposed to do without a car until then?” Buddy sputtered. “What the heck is he doing down there?”
Jack shook his head and shrugged, but couldn’t help smiling.
“Oh, so you know?”
“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t. I’m going to take the train into the city tomorrow and hook up with him. And if it’s okay, I’m going to use Mom’s car to check out some local produce vendors and a baker or two. Hal and I will probably drive back together, by Friday at the latest.”
“It’s okay about the car,” said Kathleen. “So we’ll all be together for Friday-night dinner?”
“Do you know that your brother is going Hasidic on us?” Buddy said.
“That’s overstating it a little,” Kathleen objected.
“I’ll get a kosher chicken,” Jack said. “They really do taste the best.”
Kathleen smiled. “Hal will approve. But if you two moguls will excuse me, I think I’m going to lie down.”
Jack walked her down the hall and gave her a long hug. “You’re going to be fine, Mom.”
“It’s great to have you home, hon.”