Farewell to Cedar Key Page 29

  “Yeah, I think she does, because CC planned to call all the girls. Well, I guess that it was just a fling for her and it had run its course. And . . . apparently she’s put in her paperwork to take an early retirement.”

  “Oh, wow. She’s leaving the advertising agency? Gosh, I wonder what brought all of that about? I did think she really liked that Matthew and her job.”

  “Well, according to my mother, she did. But I guess she felt it was time for a life change. She has plans to return to Italy next year after she retires—alone. She wants to rent a villa there and focus on her other love—painting.”

  “Gosh, so many changes going on. I do remember that CC was a great artist, but for some reason she never pursued it. Well, good for her. I’m happy that she’s following her passion.”

  I noticed Mallory had become quiet. “What’s wrong?”

  She let out a deep sigh. “I’m just feeling like a failure, I think. So many women are not only discovering what they really want in life, they’re actually taking a risk and doing it. I mean, look at you. How far you’ve come. From the beginning you did things on your terms. Then you wanted to become a nurse and you did it. Now you’re marrying Grant and moving away. Me? I’ve only ever been a wife and mother.”

  I saw the tears rolling down her face and jumped up to hug her as I wondered how much this actually had to do with her self-identity and how much with her best friend leaving for good.

  “Oh, Mallory, don’t be silly,” I told her and patted her back. “That’s what you always wanted—to be Troy’s wife and to be a mother. There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.”

  She swiped at her eyes and sniffed. “Yeah, I know, but now . . . maybe I want more.”

  I pulled away to stare at her. “You do? Like what?” This was the first time I’d heard Mallory talk this way.

  She reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “That’s just it . . . I don’t know what I’d like to do. I only know I’d like to do something .”

  “Okay, then,” I said, sitting back down on the stool. “Let’s figure out what that something might be. Do you think you’d like to go to college and take some courses? Train for a career maybe?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Hmm. Knitting. You love knitting and you’re very good. With Chloe leaving, maybe you’d like to work with Dora in the yarn shop?”

  “I did consider that, but no . . . what I’ve been thinking about is my photography.”

  “Oh, my gosh, I’d forgotten all about that.” I thought back to our teen years when I never saw Mallory without her Canon AE-1 swinging from around her neck. “That’s right, you loved photography. And you were good. Damn good! So why don’t you pursue that? Get back to taking photos and maybe even enter something in the Arts Festival.”

  She nodded. “Yeah,” she said doubtfully. “But I just don’t know if I’m good anymore, and everything is done now with digital cameras. Call me old-fashioned, but I still prefer using film. Remember when I thought about turning our extra room into a darkroom?”

  I did. “Well, I think it’s a great idea, Mallory. I think you should do it. Get back to taking photos, have a darkroom, and hey, you could open a photography studio right here on the island.”

  I saw her face brighten. “You think? But I’d need to build up some customers.”

  “Yes, I do think you can do this. And you know what? I’m hiring you for my wedding. I want you to be my photographer. There isn’t anybody who knows me better than you. Anybody who could capture the real me better than you could. It would give a boost to your new career, doing a big wedding.” Not to mention a boost to her confidence, I thought.

  Her brightness turned to pure joy with the smile that covered her face. “Oh, my God! Really, Josie? You’d let me shoot your wedding? That really would be a major boost.”

  She jumped up to pull me into a hug.

  “Yes, I really want you to be my wedding photographer,” I told her as I tried to push out my mother’s reaction to this news; she had recently informed me she planned to hire some posh photo studio in Gainesville.

  50

  Four days before the Sisters weekend, my mother saw the doctor and got another good medical report. My parents were ecstatic, and everybody was feeling grateful. Dr. Girone told her he’d see her again in July for another three-month checkup.

  She phoned me at seven the morning of the gathering, still on a high from her good news. “So you and Mallory will come by this evening, right? Jane is already here. She arrived yesterday and stayed at Mallory’s last night. Mags and CC landed in Gainesville last evening, and Elly is driving from Atlanta and should be here by early afternoon. I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving shortly with Mags and CC to go pick up some things in Gainesville.”

  “Well, aren’t you the early bird,” I said, laughing. “And yes, Mallory and I will come by tonight about seven or so. Anything I can bring?”

  “Nope, not a thing. We’re picking up wine and food this morning. Mags is going to make some seafood concoction for an early dinner for us. Okay, then, I’ll see you at the Lighthouse later this evening. Love you.”

  I hung up the phone and smiled. My mother was definitely in her element, surrounded by her dearest and closest friends. I was glad that Mags had thought to organize something like this to get them all together for a celebration.

  I phoned Mallory later in the morning. “All set for the big event tonight?”

  Her laugh came across the line. “Yeah, I am. I swear my mom’s been acting like a college student since she got here yesterday. Jumping around the house dancing, cracking jokes, and so excited. There’s some good energy when you put those five women together. They gave my mom the key to the Lighthouse, so she just left to go open it up and get it ready. I think the rest of them have gone to Gainesville shopping.”

  “Yeah, they have, and Elly is due here in a couple hours. You want to drive over around seven together?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll pick you up. Be ready to party.”

  As soon as Mallory pulled the car onto the crushed oyster shell area in front of the Lighthouse, I could hear the music blaring. We got out and began walking up the stairs when I heard my mother’s voice belting out “Dancing Queen” by ABBA.

  I looked at Mallory. “What the hell?”

  She shrugged and laughed. “Have no clue.”

  I opened the door, stepped into the kitchen, and saw my mother holding a karaoke microphone with the lyrics of the song flashing on a monitor screen. But what really made my jaw drop was my mother’s appearance. Gone was her tailored dress code. She was wearing skinny jeans and a hot pink tank top with the sparkly silver words Bite Me splashed across the front. On her head was a floral wreath of fresh flowers, and beneath that wreath was no sign of her traditional chic hairstyle. It had been replaced with a pixie cut, which very much resembled my own style. Her auburn color also looked a shade brighter.

  While my mother sang into the mic, Mags shook a tambourine as Jane, CC, and Elly danced around the family room, joining in the singing, all five contradicting the fact that they were older than sixty.

  I looked at Mallory, and both of us burst out laughing as my mother noticed us standing there and motioned us to join the dancing. I heard my mother singing the words, and I knew without a doubt that she was having the time of her life. When the song ended, there was an eruption of laugher and my mother rushed over to pull me into a tight hug.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked, touching her cropped hair.

  “You don’t like it?”

  Actually, I liked it a lot. The cut was very becoming and made her look ten years younger, but I couldn’t help recall how she’d always indicated she never cared for my choice of hairstyle.

  “I love it, but . . .”

  She laughed and said, “I know. Mags talked me into it today at the salon. So I figured, what the hell! Life is too short not to try new things, right?”


  “Absolutely right.” It was then that I noticed the aroma floating around the room. “Mom! Are you guys smoking pot?”

  She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I think Mags may have snuck some in. Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Come say hello to everybody.”

  Mags was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt with psychedelic colors of turquoise, orange, yellow, and blue splashed across the front. The colors matched the bandana tied around her forehead, and I felt like I’d stepped back in time to a 1960s sorority party.

  She pulled me into a tight embrace. “Isn’t this great, Jos? It’s like time has stood still.”

  Yup, she was definitely taking some hits of marijuana and was more bubbly than usual.

  Elly and CC came over to hug me. Both of them were wearing long, gauzy dresses that fell to their ankles, and I noticed they were both barefoot. Floral wreaths also sat atop their heads.

  “This is going to be a great four days,” Elly said. “I’d forgotten how much fun we used to have in college.”

  “And I think we’re proving we’re never too old to celebrate and have fun,” CC added.

  “Look at my mom,” I heard Mallory say, and turned around to see Jane wearing a floral print minidress with a pair of white boots that came just below her knees. Perched on her head was a red floppy hat with a wide brim.

  I shook my head, laughing. “This is too funny. I think they hung on to all those clothes from the sixties.”

  Mags clapped her hands to get our attention as she waved a peace sign flag in the air. “Okay, everybody, get yourself a glass of wine. There’s plenty of food, so dig in, and let’s keep singing and dancing. CC, your turn. Choose a song, grab the mic, and let it rip.”

  I’d been to other gatherings over the years with the Sisters of ’68, but they were pretty demure compared to this one—laughter and fun, but not the inspiring energy that seemed to fill the room this evening. Was this what happened as one got older? You began to appreciate the moments more? You began to understand that more time was behind you rather than ahead of you? You celebrated more and truly embraced the essence of life? If these five women were any example, I’d have to say yes, that was exactly what could happen.

  I poured myself a glass of white wine as I listened to CC singing “If Not For You,” a popular 1970s Bob Dylan song, which made me think of the bond these five women had forged over fifty years ago as freshmen in college. They had been together through all of life’s ups and downs, good times and bad, and most important, all five had contributed something special to their relationships that made them continue to grow and flourish. I glanced over to see the joy on my mother’s face as she moved her body to the rhythm of the music, and I knew I owed Mags a lot for coming up with the idea of this get-together.

  “They’re quite a group, aren’t they?” I heard Mallory say as she came to stand beside me. “I can’t ever remember a time that they weren’t in my life.”

  I nodded. “I know. They’re very fortunate to have one another, but we’re pretty lucky, too, to be a part of it. I haven’t seen my mother this happy in ages.”

  “What do you think of her hair? I just love it.”

  “I do too.” I felt the smile cross my face. “She sure surprised the hell outta me with that. It’s like she’s transforming into a whole new person. For the better,” I added.

  “Hmm, seems to be running in the family lately,” Mallory said with a grin on her face.

  I was nibbling on a delicious cream cheese hors d’oeuvre when my mother ran over and put her arm around my shoulder.

  “Fill up your wineglass and come with me,” she said.

  I topped off my wine and followed her outside to the wraparound deck. It was pitch dark with no light pollution, and looking up, I saw the starlit sky and a silver full moon.

  “Isn’t this gorgeous?” she said as we both leaned our elbows on the railing and looked out at the water.

  I nodded as I savored the moment. “It is,” I whispered.

  She turned to me and took my hand. “Josie, I just want you to know how much I love you and how happy I am about your upcoming marriage to Grant. I also want you to know how much it means to me that you’re here with us tonight.”

  I gave her hand a squeeze. “I love you too, Mom, and I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. I hope you know how much I appreciate you doing all the planning for the wedding.”

  She let out a chuckle. “Are you kidding? I love having carte blanche organizing my daughter’s special day.”

  “Ah, wait a sec,” I told her. “Not quite carte blanche. No frocks and definitely no parasols. Promise?”

  Her laughter matched mine. “Yeah, I promise. I’ve chosen the florist. So you’ll have to choose your wedding bouquet. I have loads of photos at the house for you to look at, or you can design your own. We still have to decide on the photographer, but I’ve found a few spectacular ones in Gainesville.”

  I took a sip of my wine. “About the photographer . . . I’ve already found one.”

  Her head shot up. “Oh, really? I wasn’t aware of that.”

  “Right. Well . . . ah . . . I’ve decided to hire Mallory.”

  Surprise covered her face. “Mallory? Mallory Wilson?”

  “Yes. My best friend since forever.”

  “I don’t understand. I mean, Mallory’s not a photographer. Josie, what on earth are you thinking? This is the most special day of your life. You can’t take a chance and not have perfect pictures to capture that day. Does Mallory even own a camera?”

  Traces of the old mom quickly returned in her attitude and tone of voice.

  “Mallory happens to own a very good camera. Photography has always been her passion, and she recently shared with me that she plans to return to it, take some courses over the summer and maybe even open a shop on the island. She needs to build her confidence, and I want to help her with that. So yes, I want Mallory to be my photographer on my wedding day. Nobody could capture Grant and me better than she can.”

  My mother remained silent for a few moments, and then she leaned over and kissed my cheek. “If you want Mallory . . . then Mallory it is. The photographer is settled. Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside. “It’s your turn to choose a song to sing.”

  After looking through the various selections, I knew I wanted to sing another ABBA song, “I Have A Dream,” because those words were appropriate to where I’d come from, where I was at, and where I was headed in my life. Like the song said, when I know the time is right for me, I’ll cross the stream. And I had—with both my mother and Grant.

  51

  The five weeks following the Sisters of ’68 gathering literally flew by as I knew they would. Between planning for a major move and my autumn wedding, there was constant activity. Orli had finished school a few weeks earlier and had spent the night at my parents’ house.

  I was enjoying my second cup of coffee on the patio, soaking in the warm May morning, when the phone rang, and I answered to hear Grant’s voice.

  “All set for your going-away party tonight?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I am. It was so nice of Dora and Marin to organize a get-together at the yarn shop.”

  “I think it’ll be a good time, and one week from today you and Orli will be on your way to Boston. I can’t wait to have both my girls here with me.”

  “We’re pretty excited about that. I’m headed to the post office this morning to ship up the final boxes.”

  “Great. Have a good time tonight and call me when you get home. I love you, Josie.”

  “I love you too, Grant. I can’t wait to be up there with you.”

  I hung up the phone, finished my coffee, hit the shower, and then headed downtown.

  Coming out of the post office, I saw Simon walking toward me.

  “Hey, Josie. Still sending boxes up to Boston?”

  I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that was the last of them. Poor Grant will be sorry he told me to ship things up there.”
>
  “Oh, I doubt that. So everything’s on track for you to leave next week?”

  “Yup. Orli and I fly out a week from today.”

  “Well, you know I wish you all the best. You have a whole new adventure ahead, and you’d better not forget to invite me to the wedding.”

  I laughed again. “Absolutely. You and Lily are on the guest list—with a plus one.”

  “A plus one?”

  “Sure. Never know who you might meet between now and then, and you might want to escort her to the wedding.”

  A smile crossed Simon’s face. “You could be right. And don’t forget to stop into the office this summer when you’re back here visiting.”

  “Will do,” I told him as he leaned toward me for a hug.

  I arrived at the yarn shop that evening to find it overflowing with women. Chloe spied me and came to grab my arm.

  “Can you believe it? All this for us,” she said, laughing. “Get a load of that chocolate fountain Berkley put together.”

  I saw a long table filled with various foods and in the center a beautiful two-foot-tall cone of chocolate with stacked tiers over a silver basin at the bottom. From the top crown, chocolate flowed over the tiers, creating a waterfall. Bowls of fresh strawberries sat in front of it.

  “Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s magnificent.”

  “I know. Berkley really outdid herself on this. Go grab a strawberry and dig in.”

  “Hey, everybody,” I heard Marin call out. “Both of our guests of honor are now here. So help yourself to wine and food, and have a great time.”

  I headed to the chocolate fountain first and savored the flavor.

  “You’re going to miss my chocolate when you move,” I heard Berkley say.

  I turned around and laughed. “You’re right. I am. Maybe we can arrange for me to have some shipped to Boston.”

  “Of course you can. I do mail order.”

  “Here you go.” My mother passed me a glass of wine. “What a nice gathering this is.”

  “Thanks, and yeah, it is.” I took a sip of wine and looked at the crowded room. It suddenly hit me that I’d be leaving all of this. The yarn shop, friends and family. Although I felt a twinge of nostalgia, I also felt excitement about the doors that were opening to me.