From comfortable distanc.., p.51
From Comfortable Distances, page 51
Her eyes were stuck on the calendar inside the cupboard door she had opened in search of spices for her stew. New Year’s was a little more than a month away. She intended to meet Prakash up in Woodstock, as they had planned. She would drive up on the 26th of December, her birthday, weather permitting. That would give her a few days to prepare the house before the New Year. Prakash had mentioned flying in on the eve of the 30th. For the New Year she would honor her mother and fill the house with fresh cooking and light the fire places and candles, and perhaps she and Prakash would practice yoga and meditate and bring in the New Year with peace and lightness and love. If some of the neighbors wanted to come over and be with them, she would welcome that, too. The thought of it all made her feel warm inside. And if she chose to stay on up in Woodstock for months, even years, so be it. Michael would be able to handle it all. As for Neal, she hadn’t gotten that far yet. Surely he would be invited. It was too far away to worry about. First, she had to get through today.
Tess nestled herself into the corner of the kitchen floor across from the table, where she had an adjacent view of the stovetop where the beans cooked. She dialed Prakash’s number and let her back sink into the crevice of the wall as the line rang.
“I remember when you were just a little boy and we made turkey cutouts by tracing your hand,” Tess said.
“Good morning, Mom,” Prakash said.
“I wish you were here with us,” Tess said.
“We’ve been through this—you know how crazy the airports are on Thanksgiving. Flying into New York this time of year—”
“I know, darling,” she said. “I understand. It’s okay for me to miss you, though, isn’t it?”
“You’re becoming more and more warm and fuzzy the older you get,” Prakash said.
“I’m sure that Michael would firmly disagree with that statement,” Tess said.
“Are you done cooking?” Prakash said.
“Almost,” she said. “I made your favorite sweet potato pie. I’m still not able to visualize my guests in one room, but I’m sure it will all be okay,” Tess said.
“If you’re asking me if I think Michael will behave, the answer is yes. Remember he can be quite charming,” Prakash said.
“Lyla Clay is not quite the to-be-charmed type,” Tess said.
“But don’t you like her now? Last I heard, the two of you were competing for the best walker in Mill Basin title.”
“Very funny,” Tess said.
“It’s our first Thanksgiving without Grandma,” Prakash said.
She pressed her free hand palm down on the cool kitchen tiled floor as if she could lift off from it.
“Yes,” Tess said. Her palm had left a faint print on the white kitchen floor. She was an orphan. It was an unsettling feeling. It made her feel as if she was floating, until she heard Prakash’s breath on the other end of the phone, which grounded her.
“I’m looking forward to meeting up in Woodstock next month,” Prakash said.
“Me too.”
Prakash yawned and Tess heard what sounded to be his sitting up.
“We’re you sleeping?” she said. “Did I wake you?”
Prakash laughed. “I was planning to wake up at 6:00 am on my day off Mom, no worries.”
“Go back to sleep. I’m sorry, dear. I wasn’t thinking for a moment. Call me later if you want,” she said. “Wait, Prakash, do you have plans today?
“I was invited over to a girl friend’s house.”
“A girl friend, as in someone you date?” Tess said.
“So tired,” Kash said. “Bye bye, Mom. Miss you, have fun today,” and with that he hung up the phone.
Tess sat cradling the phone to her chest and smiled. She made her way to standing a bit clumsily, leaning on the kitchen cabinets. So much for all the yoga, she thought.
The beans were done for now. She turned off the stovetop, drained the water from them, and poured them into the casserole with the rest of the stew, repositioning the tofu chunks and the carrots and celery to make room for the beans. She sprinkled some homemade breadcrumbs throughout and mixed in a dash of cinnamon and cardamom—a la her mother’s recipe—and set it on the middle rack in the oven, alongside the seven-grain bread that she would heat up later on. She would bake the casserole about 30 minutes prior to feeding time. She covered all that needed covering with aluminum foil—sweet potato pie, homemade cranberry sauce and cabbage and beet salad, and strategically positioned everything between the refrigerator and the stove top, so that all that needed to cool and all that needed heating up later was in its proper place. She took the carrot cake and apple angel-food cake she had made the night before out of the refrigerator and put those on the counter to warm up to room temperature. There, everything was all set. Now it was Tess time.
Tess made her way downstairs into the playroom area of her basement. She drew the playroom blinds to the backyard door to let the early morning light in. She unrolled her yoga mat and positioned it in the center of the room, facing the doors. She began to focus on her breath and moved into her sun salutes. Shine out, she thought, opening her arms wide at her sides, and as she flew them up towards the ceiling, she felt herself soaring toward all that was above and beyond. Diving forward, she was humbling herself to the world, bowing down in servitude. She was a warrior, firm and solid, and soft too. Her breath was steadying now, uniting the movements with her inhales and exhales.
Tess moved into triangle, right angle, some one-leg balance postures—tree, arda chandrasana, and bow. Then it was time for her to move to the floor for forward bends and back bends. She loved being able to be with herself, in her own mind and space, while the world outside her went on. When it was time for shavasana, final resting pose, she felt herself melting away, her breath falling in line, the November sunlight cutting the floor through the blinds, warming her face and body. It wasn’t until Tess heard bells ringing over and over, that she jumped up. For a few moments her brain searched where or why until she smelt the food upstairs and she realized that she had fallen asleep in resting pose. There was someone at the front door. She hadn’t even showered yet!
Tess clumsily picked herself up, still lightheaded from the intensity of the rest, the jarring of the doorbell, and rushed upstairs, to the front door, which she pulled open with her finger on the alarm, disabling it.
“Lyla,” she said, unlatching the screen door.
Lyla eyed Tess suspiciously and shook her head when Tess waved her to come inside.
“I’ve come to drop off the turkey,” Lyla said. I’ve been busy all morning cooking the turkey for your party and then had to cook two more turkeys for the home. I haven’t had time to relax,” Lyla said, eyeing Tess up and down.
Tess imagined her hair was going every which way from her brief nap. She made an effort to smooth it down a bit.
“Sounds like you’ve been plenty busy,” Tess said.
At that moment Buddhi hopped out of the orchid tree and landed on the porch, his back hunched, his teeth showing as if he was about to attack. He sniffed at the air a few times in regard to the turkey Tess was holding, and then scrambled past Lyla and Tess through the open screen door, darting up the stairs.
“Oh my goodness!” Lyla shrieked. “That nasty creature does not belong in your house,” she said and for a moment, Tess felt dread at the possibility of Bhuddi getting at the turkey; she would have to be careful with it.
“We’ll be back at 1:00 pm prompt,” Lyla said, and with that she about faced and hurried down the stairs. Tess stood for a few moments watching her move away from the porch, and then focused on the car parked by the curb in which Neal sat. He waved at her and she waved back. See you later, she mouthed, not knowing if he was able to make out what she was saying, but she could have sworn she saw him mouthing it back to her.
“I was ringing the doorbell forever,” Michael said, letting the screen door slam shut behind him as he followed Tess up the stairs.
“It seems to be a theme today,” Tess said. She paused at the landing. “Excuse me, but do you think you could maybe close the front door?” she said. “And your shoes, please.”
“Geez,” Michael said. “You’d think the host would be in the holiday spirit. The weirdo here? I’d like to see you ask his mother to take off her shoes.”
“Neal is with his mother, and for your information, I was chasing a lunatic cat around my home for the past hour—he ambushed me in the shower and practically tore a hole through my leg with those claws of his and now he’s vanished,” Tess said.
“And I thought you answered the door in a robe to turn me on. Ambushed you in the shower, huh?” Michael said.
“Don’t start with me,” Tess said. “I have Neal and his moody mother arriving soon, I’m not dressed yet, didn’t get to do my make-up and I still can’t find that cat who for all I know could be waiting to attack the turkey that Neal’s mother dropped off, or worse yet, attack her.”
“Look at you, all un-yogi-ed out,” Michael said. “The yoga gods might expel you from the kingdom today if they came for a visit.”
“I can always count on you to cheer me up,” Tess said. “Ah! Did you just see him dart by? Downstairs, he went downstairs!”
“Didn’t you tell me you loved that cat a few weeks back when I told you he was mangy?”
“That was before he decided to crash my party,” Tess said waiting by the stairs, whispering here kitty kitty.
“Well at least I know you’re consistent in your loving-something-one-day-and-tossing-it-away-the-next pattern,” Michael said.
“I’m glad that you can find a way to compare yourself to a stray cat,” Tess said.
She sat down at the kitchen table, tightening her robe. “I give up,” she said.
“You’re surrendering your love to me?” Michael said.
“You don’t stop, do you?”
“The holidays make me nostalgic,” Michael said.
“Where’s your spinach pie?” Tess said.
Michael pointed to the bag he put down on the counter by the sink. “I wouldn’t leave home without it,” he said. “It’s quite delicious, I might add.”
“Isn’t someone else supposed to judge that?” Tess said.
“I made two pies and ate a hefty piece of one last night and I went back for seconds. I would have had thirds if I wasn’t middle aged and didn’t have to watch my waistline.”
“Time for me to get ready,” Tess said.
“When are Lyla and the weirdo making their appearance?” Michael said.
“You’re coming with me to get ready?” Tess said, glancing back at Michael who was following her to her bedroom.
“Should I sit in the kitchen alone?” Michael said.
“Maybe you want to pick out an outfit for me,” Tess said.
“My pleasure,” he said, sitting down on her bed.
“Can I ask you a favor? Can you please behave today? I don’t want to have to babysit you,” Tess said.
“For your information, I’m an absolutely charming gentleman and will be nothing less today.”
“Thank you,” Tess said.
“Have you told him about your moving to Woodstock and trying to stick me with your company yet or is that topic off limits?”
“Michael. Please. Not today.”
“You haven’t told him. You’ve already created a contract for me but you haven’t even told the person you’re in a relationship with, not to mention your employees.”
Tess dabbed on her burnt red lipstick, touched up her hair with some conditioning cream and made her way past Michael into her closet, pulling the door slightly closed behind her.
“Hiding away won’t help you my dear,” Michael said.
“If you don’t want to sign the contract then the sooner you let me know the better,” Tess said, going through her suits—no, it wasn’t a suit day— before scanning her casual rack and deciding on a charcoal grey cashmere turtleneck and matching charcoal heather slacks, which she’d accessorize with her black patent leather Gucci belt and matching loafers.
“So that you can put Best up for sale?” Michael said.
“So that I can make other arrangements,” Tess said. “I’m going up to Woodstock in a few weeks as you know and I’m going to do what’s right for me, regardless of my business, which has been my life for the last few decades.”
“I’ll assume temporary leadership,” Michael said. “For a few months. Two or three let’s say. And then we go from there.”
Tess walked out of the closet, dressed and messing her hair with her fingers to add fullness. “Are we playing let’s make a deal?” she said.
“That’s my offer. We can revisit in March and make more definitive decisions at that time,” Michael said.
Michael leaned against the bed’s backboard, paging through the Bhagavad Gita he’d picked up from her night table. Michael closed the book and focused on Tess.
“It’s a deal,” Tess said. “And we don’t tell the employees anything other than that I needed to take care of some out of town business and will be back in a few months.”
“That sounds like a change of heart,” Michael said.
“Strategic planning is how I see it. A trial period for you. Meaning, if you should opt to bail out of our agreement or fail miserably and I need someone else to take over, at least I can save the team from having to deal with too much confusion in the transition. I’ll expect you to draw me up an agreement of sorts that we can both sign off on.”
“Always business,” he said.
“You’re the lawyer. I would think that you’d be mandating the contract,” Tess said.
“If I told you I wanted to go with you to Woodstock—”
“I’d tell you to focus on your own dreams, Michael. Was that the doorbell?” Tess said.
Michael paused until they both heard the bell ring again.
“Saved by the bell,” he said.
“You’ll be fine with or without me at Best,” Tess said. “And perhaps you’ll be able to get on with your life without me around.”
“You’re saying that you don’t think I’ve moved on with my life?” Michael said.
“Michael, we’re divorced for two years and your sitting on my bed on Thanksgiving while I’m getting ready,” Tess said.
“And your point is?” he said.
Lyla stood at attention when Tess opened the door. She’d told Michael to busy himself in the kitchen by taking out drinks—white wine, seltzer, water and glasses. Neal was making his way from the car parked across the street carrying a few red cellophane cookie platters, which protruded from a large white shopping bag. Tess noticed the rainbow streaking the sky and pointed.
“Look.”
Lyla about faced and Neal, seeing them looking off in the distance, turned around when he reached the curb. Tess moved out onto the porch. The rainbow seemed to take over the entire sky, like a backdrop.
In a moment Michael was beside them on the porch and Tess noticed that her neighbors on both sides were also on their porches as were the neighbors across the street on Dakota Place. Tess imagined unicorns coming into the picture, scattering across the lawns of Mill Basin. In this surreal moment, anything seemed possible and then she thought: this is how life works, people gathered, looking beyond at something better, without noticing what’s right there, within reach. She was guilty of this. They all were, she supposed, even Neal and his mother with their religion. Planning for the next life but what about the joy of right now? Wasn’t that what her mother always preached? To prepare for right now versus the future. The other half of the rainbow is beneath the surface. That’s what Neal had told her. His mother, who stood beside her now, had told him that, and it made sense to Tess—there was no pot of gold, but a depth, a beauty, beneath the surface.
Tess turned to the cleaning lady neighbor, to wish her a happy holiday, but she was already gone, back into her home. The Israeli neighbor had fled, too, her son not putting up any fight that they could hear.
“I think our Hallmark moment is over,” Michael said.
Lyla’s lips curled up in a smile and Tess sighed. It was going to be okay. “Mrs. Clay, this is Michael O’Shay,” Tess said.
“I know who you are,” Lyla said, looking Michael up and down so that he glanced over at Tess and smiled. “I see you when I walk past your house—you live in that mansion—and sometimes I see your car in Tess’s driveway.”
“You’re very observant,” Michael said, holding the door open for Lyla and Tess to pass through. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clay.”
Lyla cleared her throat, glanced at the shoes gathered by the door, glanced at Tess, and walked up the stairs.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Michael said, holding the door open for Neal, who was now on the porch. Tess paused at the foot of the stairs, waiting to do damage control if necessary. “I’m Michael. I’ve heard a lot about you, Neal,” he said, patting Neal on the back. Neal smiled and nodded.
