Read Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees Online
Authors: Michael Murphy
When he told me the story, he sort of glossed over the fact that his mother arrived to the minute on time at seven o’clock. When I pressed him on that point, he told me that she was noted for being on time. So he was not surprised when his mother walked through the doors of the ER at precisely seven o’clock.
Kyle and his mother apparently spotted one another at the exact same time and greeted each another with a big hug. “Baby!”—which Kyle explained was a term she used frequently and that he detested.
“Let me get a good look at you! You’re still as handsome as ever. No, more so. And you’ve filled out a little bit. Good! You always were too skinny. And this is where you work. Look at all these people. I think there’s more people here than live in our entire county.”
“This is it, Mama. Do you want to take a look around?”
“Whatever you want to show me.”
Kyle took his mother by the arm and gave her a first-class guided tour of the ER and the hospital, ending up at a Starbucks next to the hospital afterward for a cup of tea—or coffee, in his mother’s case.
“So how are you doing, son?” she asked while she waited for her coffee to cool a little.
“I’m good, Mama. I love what I’m doing and couldn’t ask for better people to work with. I’m loving the city.”
“We miss you, son.”
“I know. I miss you too. I’m sorry you couldn’t come to my graduation.”
“Me too, but you know your father hates to spend money.” She paused for a moment. “We should have been there. It was wrong for me to let him talk me out of going because it cost too much. You’re the only son we’re ever gonna have graduate from Harvard Medical School! That was such a huge day.”
Kyle told me that he was speechless to hear what his mother had told him, to the point that he was starting to wonder if he’d accidentally picked up someone else’s mother who just happened to look like his mother. I think that this is what threw him off his game. I can’t think of another reason why he would have done what he did next. What my guy did was to open his mouth and stick both of his feet inside.
“Mama, is your group going to dinner tonight someplace special?”
“They’ve booked some Chinese restaurant. Chinese! Are you inviting me to dinner?”
“Yes. I’d like to take you to a steakhouse I know that I think you’d enjoy. I get off work at seven tonight. I can come pick you up….”
“No. It would probably be easier if I came back here and met you. You’ll have been working all day.”
“Okay. And I’d like to invite a friend to join us.”
“A friend?”
“Yeah. My best friend.”
“Okay.” He told me that it was no mystery to him that his mother desperately wanted to know more, but that he wouldn’t go into any detail with her. “I’ll be here at seven. Bring your friend and we’ll all go eat together. Now, I better run if I want to get on the bus to see Ground Zero, and I don’t want to miss that.”
The minute that she was out the door, Kyle was on the phone to me. I’d been waiting, hoping he would call, so I answered on the first ring.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“I’m going to hell—and I’d like to invite you to join me on the journey.”
You didn’t get an invitation like
that
every day. “Okay. Care to explain?”
“I’m taking you and my mother to dinner tonight.”
I wasn’t sure if Kyle was joking or not. “Okay.”
“Can you meet us at Shaw’s at seven thirty?”
“Absolutely. Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m probably insane. But yes.”
“Okay. I’ll be there, and I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you want.”
“Love you, Squirrel.”
“You too, my redwood.”
“Redwood?”
“Yeah, redwood. Like the tree. Big and strong and tall. People come from miles around to admire them.”
“I’m going now.
Redwood?
Okay, I guess.”
T
HAT
evening, after he spent a busy day in the ER, Kyle’s mother was back at precisely seven o’clock. Together they took a cab across town to the restaurant Kyle had selected. He had called earlier to make a reservation for the three of us. Since traffic wasn’t too bad, they actually arrived a few minutes early. Usually he would have gone to the bar to wait for me, but Kyle knew his mother wouldn’t approve of alcohol and wouldn’t be comfortable in a bar.
They were seated in a lovely wooden booth that left plenty of room for me to sit beside Kyle when I arrived. Kyle’s mother gushed with praise about the room and how beautiful it looked. Kyle said he hadn’t been there in a couple of months. The last time he’d been there, some pharmaceutical rep had been taking a bunch of baby docs (junior physicians, not pediatricians) out to dinner to extol the virtues of some wonder drug they marketed. Kyle had thought his mother would approve, and so far she seemed to wholeheartedly.
Kyle told me later that he had been absolutely terrified waiting for me to arrive. He only half listened to his mother while secretly berating himself for inviting me in a moment of weakness and extremely poor judgment. He was absolutely convinced that the evening was going to turn into an unmitigated disaster of monumental proportions.
A few moments later, the fate was sealed when I arrived. If I may say so—and since I’m telling the story, I get to say so—I looked absolutely ravishing, decked out in a tailored suit, beautiful tie, cufflinks that seemed to sparkle, and shoes that were shined to within an inch of their existence. Damn! I looked good. All right. The clothes looked good, and they just carried me along for the ride. I approached the table and looked to Kyle for guidance.
“Mama, I’d like to introduce you to my best friend, Joseph. Joseph, this is my mother.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” I said politely while shaking the woman’s hand. It was clear to see that his mother had been expecting someone else. It was only later that it occurred to me that she had been hoping I was a female. But I was definitely male, as we could all see. No, I didn’t whip it out and show it off! Jessh! No, I just exuded masculinity. Okay. Not buying it? Neither am I. Moving on.
I took a seat next to Kyle and joined the two of them in looking at the menu.
“Good heavens!” his mother exclaimed.
“Don’t look at the prices, Mom,” Kyle said without even looking up.
“How can I not? I mean, forty-six dollars for a steak? Goodness gracious!”
“I’ve heard the steaks here are incredible,” I said, attempting to placate the woman. Kyle didn’t even try.
“For those prices they should hand-feed the cows and gently nurture them until it’s time to butcher them.”
“Nice,” I said to myself. What I really wanted to say was, “Jesus, woman! What a fucking image!”
When we finally got Kyle’s mother to focus on the choices and not complain too much about the prices, we all made selections and placed our orders. I tried to break the ice and take some pressure off my guy by asking what the woman had done that day, being careful to not ask whether or not she approved of it or liked it, only what she had done.
“Well, first this morning they took us to Ground Zero, and we got to see the new memorial. So hard to believe it’s been more than ten years already. Were you living here when that all happened?”
“No. Let’s see. Where was I? Ten years ago I was in college. Glad I wasn’t here that day.”
“I know. What an awful day that was for our country.”
“No argument,” I quietly agreed. “And then what?”
“They drove us all around Wall Street and the financial district to look at things—quite a busy place! They took us to lunch and then put us on a boat to go over to the Statue of Liberty. I’ve never seen so much water in my life!”
“She’s quite a lady, isn’t she?” Kyle said, referring to the Statute of Liberty.
“Somehow I had pictured it as bigger. It looked so small when you see it in person.”
“I know what you mean,” I agreed. “The first time I saw it, that was my exact reaction.”
“But don’t get me wrong. It was still really nice to get to see it up close like that. Some of the group climbed all the way to the top, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t go inside like that.” The woman shuddered in displeasure.
“Not a fan of small spaces?”
“I’m a farm girl from the heartland. If it’s not wide open, it just doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Fair enough.” I nodded.
While we were eating our salads, Kyle’s mother asked the question that hadn’t been broached yet. “So, Joseph, how do you know my son?”
Playing along, I said, “How did we meet? We met at the gym. We just struck up a conversation, and we never seem to run out of things to talk about, so we just keep on going! He’s really smart, so it’s a lot of fun to talk with Kyle.”
“You got this one to
talk
?”
“Got him to talk? He never
stops
talking!”
“Kyle?” she asked incredulously.
“Yep, this one,” I said, patting Kyle’s leg in what I hoped was a convincingly masculine, bar-friendly way.
“He was always such a quiet boy. So what do you talk about that’s taking so long?”
“Politics, news, violence, beauty, travel, public policy, health care, international relations, books, movies…. Pretty much anything and everything.”
“Do you talk about God?” she asked.
“On occasion,” I answered simply. I did distinctly remember Kyle saying “Oh, God!” a few nights ago, so I thought that qualified as talking about God.
Surprisingly, Kyle’s mother did not follow up on that answer. “You going to church, baby?” she asked her son.
“You know I work long hours, Mama.”
“Don’t they observe the Lord’s day?”
“People get sick and injured regardless of the day of the week. And as the newest doctor, I work when they tell me to work. I actually like working the 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. shift. I work hard, but then I get a couple of days off to sleep.”
Again, surprisingly, no follow-up. It was helped by the waiter coming up to clear our salad plates at that moment and another man delivering our entrées.
We ate in quiet for a few moments, exchanging only brief comments on our meals, all of which were wonderful.
Our waiter asked about dessert or coffee, but everyone declined the offer. Out of the blue, catching both of us off-guard, Kyle’s mother asked, “So, baby, when are you coming back home? We need doctors in our part of the world too. And I can’t wait to have you back home where you belong.”
After a moment of hesitation, Kyle looked at her and said, “I am home, Mama.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. The three of us sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. I wasn’t about to get into this conversation unless I was invited.
“Kyle, baby, I’m tired and I need to get back to the hotel. We’ve got a full day again tomorrow. I’m not used to these late nights out on the town.”
We escorted her out and into a cab, then rode along to take her back to her hotel. At her hotel before she got out, she looked at Kyle and said, “Tomorrow night they’re having a big banquet here for all of us Christian women. I’d like you to join me. They’re having a big speaker and everything.” Needless to say, I wasn’t the least bit surprised that she didn’t extend the invitation to me as well.
Kyle hesitated, but I gave him a small discreet nod of my head that told him I thought he should go. “All right. What time?”
“Some kind of social thing at seven with dinner at seven thirty. You people all eat so late here in the big city.”
“I get off work at seven, so I can be there about seven fifteen. Would that work?”
“Of course, baby. I can’t wait.”
“Night, Mama.”
The cab pulled away from the front of the hotel to take us home. Aside from the background big city noise and the occasional complaint from the cab driver about how others were driving, the inside of the cab was quiet. I reached out and placed my hand on my boyfriend’s and simply squeezed. We knew each other well enough by that point that no words were necessary. A simple touch conveyed simply,
I’m here. You’re not alone. Lean on me.
At the apartment I paid the cab fare and then guided Kyle inside, where the man simply lay back on the couch with his arms wrapped around himself. It was clear he was deeply troubled. I changed clothes and then walked up behind Kyle and embraced him. I placed a single gentle kiss on the top of Kyle’s head and then left him to sort out things on his own.
While Kyle lay on the couch, I went into the kitchen for a minute so I could sort through the mail that had come in that day, throwing the junk mail into the trash, opening the bills, and giving everything else a split-second review and analysis. That task finished, I brewed some English Breakfast tea, which I poured over a glass of ice and took back into the living room to place in Kyle’s hand.
“Thanks, Squirrel.”
“Of course.” I sat down beside Kyle with my own glass of iced tea and asked a simple question. “You ready to talk yet or not?” There was no judgment, simply concern and willingness to listen when the time was right.
“Not much to say, really. It played out better than I thought it would at first, but then she struck while my guard was down.” Kyle looked at me and said, “I had decided to tell her, and just then she said she wanted to go back to her hotel. And I lost my moment.”