“I’ll call you,” he promised.
“I’m going to New York next week to see Ash…Michaela.” She smiled as she corrected the name.
“I want to hear all about it when you get back,” he said with an encouraging look, and she nodded.
“Thank you, Norm…for everything.”
“Never mind that,” he said, kissed her again, walked down the steps, and waved as he drove away a minute later. She stood on the porch for a few minutes, thinking about him, wondering why she had never noticed how handsome he was, and how attracted she was to him. All things in their time, she thought, and went back into the house with a smile.
Chapter 10
Melissa left for New York a week after her dinner with Norm. She drove herself, and had to concentrate on the road. She was so nervous and distracted, she was afraid she’d have an accident. What if she was killed on the way and never met her daughter? She could think of every kind of disaster happening, Michaela’s plane crashing on the way from L.A. to New York, taking her family with her. Melissa couldn’t believe it was going to be easy, and a happy event. She was sure something bad was going to happen to interfere with the meeting. But nothing had so far.
She checked in to a small, centrally located hotel in Midtown that she liked, which she used to recommend to friends from out of town when she lived there. It had a small elegant lobby, and comfortable rooms. Melissa had given herself two days to shop in New York before the meeting, so she’d have something decent to wear when she saw Michaela.
She had agreed to meet Michaela at the Mark hotel on East Seventy-seventh Street, where she would be staying with her husband and children. Melissa didn’t want to crowd her by staying at the same hotel, in case the meeting went badly. But Hattie said there was no reason why it should. Both mother and daughter were excited to see each other, and had waited a long time for this. David was going to join them, at the end, with the children, and they were going to have dinner that night, after a brief intermission.
Hattie was joining them for dinner on their second day together. And on the third day they were all leaving, hoping this was just the beginning. There would be many more occasions to be together after this, if all went well. Michaela wanted Melissa to come to L.A. for Thanksgiving, to meet her adoptive mother, the thought of which terrified Melissa. And she wanted them to come to Massachusetts for Christmas or just afterward. It would be beautiful and snowy and a white Christmas, and there was skiing nearby, on a small mountain suitable for the children.
* * *
—
Melissa walked into Bergdorf, feeling as though she had traveled back in time. She hadn’t been to New York in four years, and a thousand memories crowded into her head and assaulted her. Living and working there, their apartment, taking Robbie to the park before he got sick, shopping, seeing friends, life with Carson. She had abandoned an entire life when she left, all the people she’d known, and familiar spaces. She couldn’t bear their friends’ sympathy, or their look of panic that it could happen to them, and they could lose a child too. They felt sorry for her, but were relieved it wasn’t them. She understood, but didn’t want to see it. And she had nothing to say to them since her only child was dead and they had nothing in common anymore. She had borne it for two years, while she and Carson were still together after Robbie died, but the moment Carson left her, she fled.
He moved in with Jane almost immediately, and she went to the Berkshires to look for a house. Now suddenly she was back. It was a painful déjà vu for her, and she stood stock-still in the middle of Bergdorf’s main floor, unable to move, and then forced herself to head toward the escalator, to find something to wear that Michaela would approve of. She didn’t want her daughter to think she was a slob or didn’t care how she looked, which she hadn’t for four years, in old jeans and T-shirts. But now it mattered.
Melissa spent two hours trying on clothes, feeling even more lost. She felt ridiculous in them, polite little suits and matronly dresses she knew she’d never wear again, and weren’t “her.” She didn’t know what Michaela expected, and didn’t want to disappoint her. Hattie called her on her cellphone when she finished her shift, and Melissa was standing in a dressing room piled high with rejects. She was near tears.
“I need to borrow your habit. I’ve forgotten how to shop. I look awful in everything I’ve tried on. Can’t we say we’re both nuns?”
“You’d be struck by lightning immediately, after everything you’ve said about my being one,” Hattie said, and Melissa laughed.
“That’s probably true. I can’t find anything to wear.”
“What about black slacks and a nice sweater? That’s what you used to wear most of the time.”
“I’d forgotten. Can I wear that to dinner too?”
“You’re asking me for advice? My wardrobe comes from the donation boxes people drop off. I have four Mickey Mouse Disneyland sweatshirts, and two from Harvard.” They both laughed and Melissa knew it was true. She’d seen them.
“You can lend me one from Harvard if I don’t find anything here.”
“Buy three black sweaters, and a pair of slacks. She’s not going to care what you’re wearing, Mel.”
“I hope not. I saw Marla Moore at the Oscars on TV last year, in Chanel haute couture. I can’t compete with that.”
“You don’t have to. I think they borrow what they wear, so it probably wasn’t hers. All you need to look like is her mom.”
“I don’t know who I am anymore, Hattie,” Melissa said, near tears. “I’m not a writer, or a mother, or a wife. I live in the country and don’t see anyone or go anywhere. I don’t have a job, or a life, or anything to impress her.”
“Maybe you need to get a life and a new wardrobe, Mel,” Hattie said gently, and as she did, it occurred to Melissa that it might be nice to have some new clothes to wear when she saw Norm, if they had dinner again, and she hoped they would. It gave her an idea.
“I’ll do pants and sweaters. That works.” She went down a floor to where the more casual clothes were, and bought a soft pink cashmere sweater, a pale blue one, a red turtleneck, and two black ones that looked chic. She bought black and gray flannel slacks, and then she saw a lace blouse that looked soft and feminine, and she bought a simple black cashmere coat that looked right for New York, instead of the beaten up gray parka she’d come to town in. She stopped in the shoe department and bought two pairs of black high-heeled pumps, one in suede, a pair of Chanel flats, and a good-looking pair of black boots. She had enough clothes to get her through the next few days, and she thought of Norm when she bought the lace blouse. There was good shopping in Boston too, but she never went.