“There’s a lot we’re missing,” I said, as we walked west from the Capitol building. “Don’t you want to see the National Air and Space Museum?”
My mom shook her head. “It sounds a lot like the Museum of Science and Industry at home,” she said. “We can do that on a rainy day. Today I want to be outside and enjoy this beautiful scenery.”
Nana, shuffling behind us, said, “I want to see the Washington Memorial.”
“That’s Monument,” I said gently. “It’s the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. I made that same mistake when I first got here,” I said. “But a kind woman named Barbara set me straight.”
My mom turned around. “Do you and Tom come out here very often?”
I took a look at the blossoming trees, the clear blue of the sky, and the crowds milling around out enjoying the gorgeous day. When was the last time he and I had spent a day together just enjoying the beauty that surrounded us in our nation’s capital? I shook my head. “Not often enough.” There was so much here to be thankful for-so much to appreciate, and yet he and I were constantly pulled apart by our conflicting schedules. The last few times I’d been out here, I’d been on my own.
“Is that a carousel?” Nana asked, pointing behind us.
“Yeah,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t want to go for a ride.
“I bet the little kids love that.”
I thought about my own experiences with that carousel-and witnessing a murder-as I made a noncommittal reply. “It’s a long walk to see all the memorial exhibits. You sure you’re up for it?”
We stopped a moment to stare out toward the Washington Monument. “Says here it’s over 555 feet tall,” Mom said, taking her turn with the pamphlet. “Guess how much it weighs?”
“Weighs?” Nana asked. “Why? You planning to pick it up?”
“Take a look,” I said, pointing. “See that line? Where the color changes? They started building it in 1848 but ran out of money. It sat here for twenty-seven years before they started work on it again.”
The three of us stared at the tall white obelisk. With the sun almost directly overhead, we all had to squint. Tall, spare, stark, and circled by snapping American flags, it was a breathtaking sight.
“Hello again, ladies.”
We turned. My mom made a funny noise, halfway between a teenage squeak and a gasp of surprise. “Why, Mr. Kapostoulos,” she said. “How nice to see you.”
He smiled. “Please call me Kap. All my friends do.”
Kapostoulos had sidled up to us-sidled up to my mom, I should say-and was smiling a bit too much for a man whose best friend had died just three days before. I struggled to remember his first name-heck, I would have struggled to remember what “Kap” stood for. But Mom sure remembered.
“Nice to see you again,” I lied.
He nodded acknowledgment. Wearing a navy blazer, khaki-colored pants, and a blue striped tie, he looked more like a cruise director than someone in mourning.
“Enjoying our beautiful sights?” he asked, but before we could answer, he continued. “Have you been to the Lincoln Memorial yet?”
“Not yet,” Mom said. “Is it as pretty as this is?”
“Each of the sights near here has its own beauty,” he said, with a meaningful gaze at my mom. “It’s worth spending time getting to know them all.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but there was no one to appreciate my discomfort. Nana had stepped closer to him, and I could tell she was sizing him up. I was disheartened by the deepening smile lines on her face.
“We should get going,” I said. “Lots to do, you know.”
“Perhaps I could accompany you,” Kap said, moving toward me. “It has been a while since I have had time to appreciate the magnificence of this area.”
“I thought you lived here,” I said.
“But I’ve been out of town for a long time.”
I couldn’t help the brusqueness in my tone. “I would think you’d be spending time with Ruth and Joel Minkus.”
My mom shot me a look from behind Kap. It was meant to reproach, but I didn’t care. Who was this guy? And why was he bothering us?
“Although Carl and I knew each other for many years, there is no love lost between me and Ruth.” He held out his hands as though in supplication. “But Joel and I get along very well. In fact, he informed me about how Ruth treated you yesterday when you saw her at Arlington.”
I started to scoot away, but Mom and Nana didn’t move.
“I would like to offer my apologies,” he said
“For what?”
“On Ruth’s behalf. She’s under considerable strain, and I’m sure she didn’t mean-”
“First off, no apology necessary,” I said. “Families in the midst of shock and grief aren’t always responsible for what they say”-I didn’t let him interrupt-“and second, I think it’s rather presumptuous of you to apologize on behalf of someone who you just admitted doesn’t care for you very much.”
He smiled. That bugged me.
“Now,” I continued, “we have to be going.”
“Ollie!” Mom said. She looked like a seventeen-year-old who was just informed of a ten thirty curfew.
“We have a lot to do,” I said.
“But if Kap wants to come along with us, I think it would be nice,” Mom said.
Nice?
As if given a great gift, Kap’s smile grew. I wanted to ask my mother what was wrong with her all of a sudden, but the words died on my lips. Kap pointed to something in the distance, which immediately captured Mom’s full attention. They started walking south, and I fell in behind them with Nana.
“What the heck just happened?” I asked.
She leaned in toward me. “Your mother’s been going through a tough time.”
“She has?” I stared down at her. “What kind of a tough time?”
Nana linked her arm through mine. “I’d call it a delayed midlife crisis, but that sounds too pat. She’s been moved out of the counselor job she loved at the women’s shelter into a position that’s far below her skills. They’re downsizing, or so they say. What’s really happening is that they’re pushing the older, well-paid workers out or into lesser jobs so that they get disgusted and quit. She used to be excited to go to work every day-to help people. Now she just sits at a desk and makes phone calls to raise money.”
“They made her a telemarketer?”
Nana nodded.
“She never told me.”
“Of course not.” Nana slid a look at the two of them in front of us. “And on top of it all, she’s been lonely, Ollie. Very lonely. I’m not the most exciting company, you know.”
“Nana…”
“It’s true. I’m still pretty active and I still volunteer at the hospital, but when your mom comes in from work I can see the dejection in her eyes. There’s nothing for her to look forward to anymore.”
“She has friends…” The image of Mom sitting in a dark room lit only by the flickering television flashed through my mind. “Doesn’t she?”
“Most of them are married, and they do couple things.” Nana shrugged, and then answered my unasked question. “Even though your mother has been on her own for a long time, things have changed for her now. It’s as though when she lost her job she lost a part of herself.”
I didn’t know if I could talk around the hard lump that had suddenly lodged in my throat.
Ahead of us, my mom laughed. Kap laughed, too, their heads leaning toward each other.
There was something about him that didn’t seem authentic, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. The two of them laughed again and my mom smiled at Kap in a way that made her look ten years younger.
Nana whispered-close to my shoulder. “This trip out to see you, Ollie, was all your mother talked about for weeks. It gave her something important to look forward to.”