Between Octobers

October 29th

October 29th

Evan was crazed, wild-eyed at the idea of going to Las Vegas. He was making all the arrangements and insisted on paying for everything. He'd already gotten four ringside seats and didn't even flinch when I suggested separate rooms.

Boxing was one of our mutual interests. He'd been trying to get me into soccer and I could not stand it. It was like watching Pong on the Atari. Boring. We didn't share the same taste in music, either. We liked some of the same stuff, like Pink Floyd, but differed in the type each was most passionate about. He preferred a style my dad would've called "hippie music." He loved all things from the 1960s, and some from the '70s, but he had a serious weakness for '80s. I teased him for that one, but there wasn't much room to talk. Metal from the early '90s was all about power ballads. Evan hated metal, but still took me to a rock show. When I considered that, I guessed I could suffer through a short trip to Nevada. 

It promised to be a good fight, but my anxiety stemmed from the fact that it was a weekend excursion. Lily and Marcus were coming along, that was for sure, but I still worried the sleeping arrangements would turn awkward once we were up there. Those two would want to be alone at some point and then what?

We were on our way to the furniture warehouse to replace the living room set I donated. We'd already dropped Noah off at his final Driver's Ed class—not before I informed him and Evan that they were my new party planning committee, officially in charge, and able to plan Noah's more mature birthday party any way they wanted. But they had to get busy; it was only five weeks away. Both seemed very pleased.

Noah pumped his fists in the air, chanting, "Yes! Yes!"

Evan's reaction was more subdued. "Tidy," he'd grinned, "I have all sorts of ideas." His accent sang amiably as he devilishly wiggled his eyebrows.

His hand was wrapped around mine on the seat between us.

Caleb was in the back humming to himself and staring out the window, offering no interest in anything we tried to engage him in. Occasionally he'd point out a road sign to show how he could read the words. I indulged him with compliments on his intelligence, though I was not sure if he was identifying by memorization or actually reading.

Stopped at a red light, Caleb yelled from the backseat. "Mommy!" His chubby finger excitedly pointed out the window at a tall street sign advertising a fast food restaurant. "That says Jack! It starts with J!"

"You are so smart, Caleb. Can you tell me what that sign says?" I pointed to the opposite side of the road at a small side street where there was a bright red stop sign.

"Stop. It says S-T-O-P!" He gloated.

"Hey Caleb, can you tell me what 'Yes' starts with?" Evan questioned, exaggerating the Y sound and repeating the word. "Ya-Ya-Ya-Yes . . . ?"

My fingers crossed as Caleb thought carefully. From his reflection in the rearview mirror, I watched his fingers touch his chin in a look of deep concentration.

"Can you tell me? What does Ya-Ya-Yes start with?" Evan asked, again.

Calebs face lit with excitement and I knew he had the answer. "Please!" He shouted, and I burst into a fit of laughter. 

"Brilliant! It takes some a lifetime to figure that one, Caleb. You're a genius!"

It was in those moments, the ones filled with unexpected laughter, the ones that demonstrated the perfect innocence and childish reasoning, that I really felt Sol's absence. I half expected to hear him laughing, too. Normally, I'd call him at the office to tell him what a character his son was becoming. 

"You miss him, don't you?" Evan smiled gently. 

"He's missing everything."  

"If what you believe is true, he knows."

On the third trip around the furniture store, Caleb started to complain about his feet. Evan volunteered to find a place to sit with him and the two took off. After I finally picked out the couches in the right color and style, with just the right fabric, I signed the papers. Then, it was time to find my boys.  

Near the center of the warehouse, atop a large, wrought iron bed, I found them. Evan was sitting near the edge, pretending to be oblivious as Caleb was sneaking up behind him. The moment Caleb got close enough to pounce, Evan stealthily reached back, took him by the ankle and yanked. Caleb fell onto a mass of pillows accumulated from surrounding bed sets. He giggled raucously, then got up and begged for more.

I rushed over to let them know it was time to go, before the salesman that had been eyeballing them could say anything.

On the way out, I spied the most beautiful canopy bed and got distracted. It was gorgeous, stately, and enormous—like something that belonged in a palace. My hand moved across the four shining, carved mahogany columns, elaborately engraved in a spiral pattern, embellished with leafy vines and roses that climbed all over. It had long iron rods at the top on each side to drape curtains. It reminded me of the kings' bed in Ever After, one of my favorite Drew Barrymore movies.

"Are you buying a bedroom set as well?" Evan asked, taking my hand.

 "No. Just admiring." The extravagant piece of workmanship was something I would have loved to have. Thanks to Sol's wisdom and stewardship, I could've easily afforded it. Still, it wouldn't have felt right spending that kind of money on myself. My fingers stroked the ornate post. "I do love the wood, though."  

Evan belted a rolling laugh. "Well, that remains to be seen!"

It took a minute to realize what he found so funny. My color changed. It was the pickle all over again. 

"Wooden furniture," I amended.