Off Season

Chapter Seven

Rebellion always came easy to me.

It lived and breathed with me most of my life. If my upper middle class parents wanted me to do something, I did the opposite. When I turned 16, I told them to not get me a car. Instead of applying to an Ivy League school, I went to Northern Kentucky University and got my bachelor’s degree in three years instead of four. When graduation came around, I almost didn’t make it to the party. I donated a third of my trust fund to Miracle Meals when I turned 25 instead of buying a house or a condo like my parents expected.

Sitting at lunch at Cincinnati Country Club the day after my encounter with Harrison, my mother, Janet, frowned at me.

“Really, Ally,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s time to start thinking about settling down?”

“I’m 27, Mom.”

“I know.” She set her creamy white coffee cup on a small saucer on top of more creamy white in the form of a starched and pressed tablecloth. “And that’s exactly what I mean.”

“That’s not old.”

“Well,it’s not young, either.” She leaned back in her chair and studied me, a vision in a green cardigan, pearl necklace and black pants. Her rust colored hair completed the elegant look. Mom never had anything out of place. Never. She didn’t look at me as she cut the lettuce in her salad into smaller pieces.“It’s not like you haven’t met anyone in the past.” A sigh. “I still think you should have given Ryan another chance.”

I bristled at the mention of Ryan Graves. Even a whisper of his first name made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and dread coat my stomach. Ryan Graves represented everything in my love life that I regretted. Everything.

“I hear Ryan lives in Chicago now,” mom said, pressing onward. She lifted a bite of salad to her lips “Very successful.”

“He would be.”

“His mother says he’s not seeing anyone. I saw her at the salon the other day.”

Perfection could be a funny thing. I walked away from it. No, I ran away. Screaming. Terrified. Convinced that perfection wanted to lead me down a boring road that led to corporate dinners, vacations in Florida with the same people every year, and a lifetime of staring in the mirror wishing I’d done something else or someone else. Ryan asked me to marry him after six months of dating my junior year of college. He wanted a wedding at his big downtown church and a reception at Cincinnati Country Club, and he didn’t mind waiting a year if I needed it.

I still said no.

My mother wrapped around that no like a snake. She pressed and squeezed against it, heating it up every once in awhile when it suited her. No sane person would ever say no to Ryan Graves. She could never understand why I did.

Over time, when she started in on him again, I had learned to just let her talk. And she did. She never failed.

“Ryan’s working on an expansion of his company to Florida. Some business. Fitness? I can’t remember. Anyway, Joy said he still asks about you. She said he doesn’t think anyone in Chicago or Florida matches up to you.”

Mom always elongated the world “Florida” when she said it, adding a flourish designed to tell people that the kind of Florida she meant had somehow separated from the rest of the state.

“She said he as two locations down there. One in West Palm and one in Boca.” M mother cleared her throat. “Looking to expand.”

I knew she was telling me this to further make the case for why I should have settled on Ryan. Ryan had the right family connections, the right education, the right manners, and now, he had the right business—a successful one.

“Are you having a conversation like this with Vance?” I sipped my drink. “Trying to push some poor girl on Vance?”

“Vance is a different issue. You know how your brother can be. He won’t find anyone to settle down with until he’s 40, at least.” She waved her hand and and frowned again. “You’re so pretty, Ally. I don’t see what the problem is. If not Ryan, then someone. Well, someone within reason. There are plenty of men from wonderful families who live right here in Cincinnati. You can surely find one that you like.”

“This isn’t the 19th century, mom. You don’t just wake up,find a man, date him for a week, and marry him. Things don’t work that way anymore.”

“They did for me.”

I raised an eyebrow at her as the server set down two plated salads, mom’s with grilled chicken and mine with grilled shrimp. “Because that was the 1980s. And you married the first man you met at Ohio State.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Your father and I are still happily married.”

“I know.I know.”

“What about your friends from Junior League? Don’t they know anyone they might fix you up with?”

“I took a leave of absence this year mom,” I said as I poured some balsamic vinaigrette dressing over the greens in my salad. “You know how hard it was being on the board.”

Mother sipped her tea and waved away the backup waiter as he walked up to our table to refill our water glasses. “Junior League is about training. It’s about giving you the skills you need for board work with bigger organizations. And anyway, I’m just saying that its time you started thinking seriously about your future. There is no reason why you can’t. Or why you shouldn’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get married.” I took a casual bite of my salad and it tasted like sawdust covered in honey and vinegar. “Maybe I’ll run off to Tibet and become a Buddhist.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ally Bean. You won’t do that.”

Another bite of my salad, but a smaller one. “Lots of people don’t get married.”

“Well, lots of people smoke pot, too,but that doesn’t make it okay.”

I grinned at her. “Tell that to all of the people who want to make pot legal in Ohio.”

“Well, they’re just stupid and don’t know anything,” mom said, her volume loud enough that the people at the table next to us turned their heads in our direction. My mom gave them a weak smile, swallowed, and then corrected herself. “Excuse me. What I mean, honey, is that I hope this year brings you someone. Someone right for you. Like Ryan. Someone appropriate.”

I chewed another bite of my salad as I studied my always appropriate, always kind, always in fashion mother. We had very different opinions about the meaning of the word “appropriate”.