* * *
We drove Erin to the airport several hours later. Mom spent at least fifteen minutes giving her advice, until Erin finally lost it.
“Mom! Stop! I’m not a kid anymore. I’m eighteen.”
“I know, honey. I just—”
“I can take care of myself.”
“You’re right.”
“Listen, Mom,” Erin said reasonably, “I know you love me, but you have to let go sometime. I’ll be with Leah. We’ll watch out for each other. Besides, we’ll be with family.”
“Only for a week. I’m worried about—”
“Mom! We talked about this. We have a list of phone numbers. You know where we’re staying. We have emergency cash and credit cards. Jeez, we even have an emergency sewing kit!”
“Well,” my mom said defensively, “you never know when you’ll need to sew a button or fix a hem.”
Christy and I shared a grin.
“Mom, I’ll be fine. We’ll call when we get there, and we’ll write postcards—”
“Every day,” Mom insisted.
Erin sighed.
“Every other day?”
“Why’re you such a basket case about this?” Erin asked. “Paul did the same thing, and he was fine.”
“Paul isn’t a gir— young woman.”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Erin said. “Paul’s a guy, so he can take care of himself. But I’m a girl, so I can’t?”
“She’ll be fine, Mom,” I told her. “If anything, she’s more responsible than I was. She’ll get into less trouble.”
“But… you didn’t get into trouble.”
I chuckled. “Not that you know about.”
“I’ll be fine,” Erin assured her. “You have to trust me sooner or later.”
“I know,” Mom said. “I just wish ‘sooner’ wasn’t now. I’m… not ready for this.”
Erin surprised me with her compassion.
“Mom,” she said patiently, “you raised me right. I’m a strong woman. I can think for myself, take care of myself. And I owe it all to you.”
“Thank you, honey. That means a lot.”
“We’ll call when we get to a new place. We’ll write postcards as often as we can, to you and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and everyone else. We’ll take pictures. We’ll have fun. We’ll watch out for each other. And we’ll be careful. We’ll be fine. I swear.”
Mom nodded and dug in her purse. She couldn’t find what she was looking for, so Erin opened her own purse and pulled out a tissue.
“Now do you believe me?” she said.
* * *
Mom was tired but relaxed at breakfast the next morning. Erin had called in the middle of the night to say that she and Leah had made it to London. Leah’s grandparents had met them at the airport, and they were fine.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for an empty nest,” Mom said as she nursed a cup of coffee.
“I don’t know if you have much choice,” I said. “Besides, this is how it’s supposed to work. You do your ‘job’ right and your kids move out.”
She thought of something and smiled. “The older I grow, the wiser my mother becomes.”
“Story of my life,” I said.
She smiled affectionately. Then the phone rang, and affection turned to alarm.
I rose to answer it. “Hello?”
“Paul? Oh, that’s right!” Susan said. “Your mom said you were coming home after Christy’s graduation. Tell her congratulations, by the way.”
“I will, thanks.”
“But what’s the news? Did Erin get there okay?”
“She did. She called early this morning.”
“How’s your mom handling it? She was fine when I talked to her last week, but I bet she was a nervous wreck yesterday.”
“That about sums it up,” I chuckled.
“You can’t wait for your children to move out, then you can’t stand it when they do. But listen to me,” she laughed, “nattering on. Is she awake yet? I think I have a way to distract her.”
“How? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, but I never realized how much Jeremiah did. I’m swamped and could use some help.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said. “I’ll let you talk to her.”
I passed the phone to Mom and watched her expression as Susan explained. She went from slightly adrift to eager and determined.
“Susan needs me,” she said when she hung up. “And if I hurry, I can leave in a couple of hours.”
* * *
“This is so weird,” Christy said when we went to bed that evening.
“What? Having the house to ourselves?”
“That too. But I meant sleeping together.”
“What! We do it all the time.”
“But that’s at home. It feels weird to do it here, in your parents’ house.”
“Why? We did it last night.”
“I know, but… I suppose it feels like we’re getting away with something.”
“We aren’t. Trust me.”
“You’re right. As usual. But… can you imagine sleeping together in my parents’ house?”
“We’ve done it before. As a matter of fact, you lost your virginity there.”
“I did not!”
“Your virginity with me.”
“That doesn’t count,” she said with impeccable Christy-logic. “We were sleeping together in my head long before we did it for real.”
“Did you enjoy it?” I teased.
“Of course. I won all the arguments, too.”
“Oh, for sure!” I laughed.
“I did,” she insisted. “And you were never mean to me.”
“Anything else?”
“Uh-huh. We could have sex all the time, whenever we wanted.”
“We can do that now, especially since we’re the only ones here.”
“That’s true,” she admitted. “And we have a hot tub.”
“You didn’t have one in your head?”
“I did. I do. But it isn’t the same.”
“Do we need to go back out?”
“No, I don’t think so. The hot tub’s nice, but… I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“A pool.”
“Sorry we don’t have one.”
“Wren does.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is really about,” I said.
“Are you upset?”
“About what? That you want to see Wren? Of course not. She’s your girlfriend.”
“I miss her. I know we just saw her, but you know what I mean. I miss… spending time with her. Don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly, “I love spending time with you, but it isn’t the same. I didn’t want to ask, but…” She shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since our plans changed.”
“Do you want to call her tomorrow?”
“Yes, please.” She reached for my penis. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You don’t need to bribe me to spend time with your girlfriend.”
“Then it isn’t a bribe. It’s… a reward!”
I chuckled. “You just want to suck my dick.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” I stretched languidly and pushed the covers down. “Absolutely nothing.”
* * *
“God, I’m glad you’re here,” Wren said the next day. She invited us into the house.
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“I’m bored to death. Have you watched daytime TV lately? Big money, no whammies. Come on down, you’re the next contestant. It’s garbage. The soaps are worse.”
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” I chuckled.
“I know, but my brain’s turning to mush. Come on back.” She glanced over her shoulder and continued, “Worse, my butt’s already turned to cottage cheese. We need to start doing aerobics again,” she added to Christy.
Wren opened the door to the back yard and went out. The transition from dark house to bright sunlight felt like a physical blow, and I sneezed reflexively.
“Bless you,” Wren said without stopping. She stripped off her T-shirt and tossed it on a chair. She wasn’t wearing a bikini top. “Hold on,” she said all of a sudden, “what happened to your hand?”