I start at the beginning, with the scene at JFK and the subsequent plane ride, and, about twenty minutes later, I end with the plane ride home, alone, with my mother’s ashes in a takeout container.
“Oh, Mel,” Evan sighs. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?”
“I kind of did. I mean, right? You knew there was a guy in Aruba.”
“Yeah, but you left out, like, a really important part.”
“Which is?”
“You love him! Or, well,lovedhim. I don’t know—doyou? Love him?”
“It’s a loaded question, Ev.” I pause. “If you’d asked me in Aruba, likeduringthe week, I would have told you that yeah, for sure, I was falling in love with him. But then, as soon as the whole thing with my mom happened, I just—I don’t know—Icouldn’t. Does that make any sense?”
“Sort of? Not really?”
“It was my fault that she died,” I say.
“No. It wasn’t.”
“If I had been there, maybe I could have saved her.”
“Okay, sure. Maybe you could have. But maybe not. Mel, she had congestive heart failure. You knew that going there. It wasn’t like she was super healthy and all of a sudden she passed away. Maybe she would have died in your arms. Maybe you would have had towatchit. Think what that would have done to you.”
“Jeez,” I say, under my breath.
“Listen, honey, you know I love you, so anything I say is said with absolutely nothing but genuine affection. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe your mom dying the way she did was a good thing?”
“Agood thing? No. I have not ever thought of it that way.”
“Hear me out. There’s no question that your mother was incredible, right? Like, probably the best mom to ever exist. All she wanted was for you to be happy, and healthy, and safe. And shehadthat—you gave her that! I mean, Igetit. I get why you could feel all sorts of things in the aftermath, ofcourse. But have you ever tried to think about the other side? About whatshewas feeling? Or going through?”
I try to consider his words. “I know she wasn’t a hundred percent herself anymore. She would sometimes have, like, coughing fits. And she napped. A lot.”
“This is what I mean. Maybe she was just holding on until she knew you’d be all right without her.”
“But that never happened,” I point out. “I never was okay without her. I’m still not okay without her.”
“No. I understand that.” He stops for a second, takes a sip of coffee. “Let me go about this a different way.” He takes a cleansing breath. “Okay. Cats.”
“Cats?”
“Yeah. Cats. Did you know that when house cats die, they usually hide?”
“I think I’ve heard that, yes.”
“It’s like, they know it’s coming. And they don’t want to just die in front of everybody. So they go into, like, the basement or under the couch or something.”
“What does this have to do—”
“Just hear me out. What if your mom knew it was coming? Like, maybe not on the surface, but maybe in her subconscious?”
“So, you think that’s why she encouraged me to go out for the night?”
“Not necessarily. Notspecificallylike that. But maybe? You know?”
“Well, I definitely never thought of it that way before.”
“I know. It’s just something to consider. You don’t know. She might have been holding out. She might have been pushing it that week, knowing something incredible was about to happen to you, and she wanted to stick around to make sure you were good.”
