Tom: "What do you mean what's the plan? She comes home. That's the plan, right?"
Tom went to school in North Carolina. A million years ago, but in his mind it was yesterday. He hitchhiked, shared rides with other college kids, bought a motorcycle, and beamed himself home to hear his side of his stories. He thinks his daughter should be doing the same never mind that she got her license after turning 18 and hasn't driven since. He's annoyed that she chose to leave the state, and when I pointed out that he did the same thing, he gaped at me and then left the room.
Last year I flew to North Carolina, rented a car, paid for a company to store her belongings, and we flew home together. The storage company kept only half of her things because her roommate took the other half to use for summer school. This year that wasn't going to happen so the price to house all of her stuff was outrageous, and we decided instead to rent a facility off campus which meant we would have to get her stuff there. My friend and I decided we would make an adventure of it, drive up, and linger coming home, but Madison's finals turned out to be the end of the week instead of at the beginning. Because I am heavily involved in Darcy's IB program and because IB exams are the entire month of May, leaving late was going to difficult. I had too many responsibilities.
Darcy: "I thought it was because you wanted to take care of me and see that I ate a good breakfast each morning. You did that for Madison when she was a senior."
I looked into doing the same thing I had done last year, but the rental car cost was outrageous, and the thought of hauling boxes and refrigerators up and down a million steps was not something a middle aged, fat woman with a bad back should be doing. So after weeks of losing sleep over the whole worry, I turned it over to the man who kept telling me he "knew a million people in North Carolina".
Me: "Since you have all of these friends in NC why don't you just drive up and get her."
After getting over the initial horror of taking off of work, I think he actually began to look forward to the trip. He arranged for the storage unit, washed the car, and made plans to stop off in South Carolina to visit with my relatives on the way home. He left last night whistling, although I was at guitar lessons with my charge so I'm just picturing that's how he left. I know, I was happy for the reprieve of cooking meals and sharing the television.
Darcy: "Wait. You are making me breakfast in the morning, right?"
The only problem with the entire situation on our end was the dog. The dog who belongs to my husband lock, stock, and barrel. While I'm the one who is with him 24/7 during the day, my husband is the dog's one true love. He sleeps by him. He waits at night by the front door looking for his car. The dog knows the routine; up by 6:00, watch Tom shave, have breakfast, walk with Tom, play retrieve with Tom, watch him drive off to work, hang out with the old lady, wait for Tom to come home, walk with him, stick with him the rest of the night.
Three days before Tom was set to leave I began preparing the dog. I discussed how his daddy was leaving to pick up Madison. I stressed that he would be bringing Madison home and she would be here for three months. I discussed how sad it would be, but that they wouldn't be gone for ever, and would return by the end of the week. I'm a firm believer that this dog understands everything I say, and I talk to him constantly. Yet, still he love that man more.
When I got home last night from guitar, I reminded the dog that his master was gone for some time. While Tom had been home to collect his luggage and Darcy's car, I'm not sure the dog believed the man wasn't truly coming back later. The only way he would take his nightly walk was to have Darcy accompany us, and she did this begrudgingly.
Darcy: "I have to STUDY!!!"
I made her bring her book with her while we walked. The dog knows his routine, and by golly, he walks with his dad at night, and why-are-these-two-insisting-on-doing-the-deed-oh-look-squirrel. If two of us walk, then he believes he must go too to herd us properly. The nightly walk completed, I left him by the front door to stare longingly outside for his father to return. He cried and cried. It was quite pitiful. Closing the door, made it worse. Every little noise whether from the television or the dishwasher had him at the front door crying as if Tom were outside unable to get into the house. I finally sat down with him and had a frank talk.
Me: "I understand your unhappiness. I do. I sympathize with your situation. I do. But I told you this day was coming. He has gone off to pick up Madison and it will take several days, but he will return, and then Madison will be with him, and we will all be together all summer. And when he returns Aunt Susan will also be coming, and you and she will spend all week by the pool. It's like an added surprise!"
He stared at me with those brown puppy dog eyes and let me stroke him the entire one sided conversation. Then an hour later, as we were getting ready for bed, he stood by the front door and howled. Darcy tried to console him, and finally she laid him on Tom's side of the bed so he could smell his scent. When Tom Facetimed us, Elliot ignored him as he always does with telephones, but he knew it was Tom's voice, and I think that might have done the trick.
This morning I was the one who fed him and walked him. Getting him around the block was a chore, and we were both hot and sweaty when we got home, but we got through it, and as I dropped ice into the coffee I had yet to consume, I realized that despite losing both girls in August I still had my son.
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