The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs (25 page)

“After all that you've been through these last couple days, you still can't tell her to fuck off?”

“I did,” Caroline said. “Or I came as close to it as I needed to. That's the difference between adults and teenagers. Adults don't see everything as black and white. Also, we're allowed to swear and you're not, so knock it off.”

“That's the problem with the world,” Polly said. “Adults make everything so complicated. Sometimes a bully is nothing more than a bully.”

She wasn't going to tell Polly that she was right, but the girl had a point.

Caroline's mother was serving eggs, bacon, and pancakes this time. Brunch before she and Polly and Tom made their return trip home.

“It's kind of like old times,” Caroline's mother said to Emily as she passed a serving dish of scrambled eggs across the table. “Do you remember all those mornings you spent at our old place as a kid, eating breakfast with us?'

“I do,” Emily said. “Some of my favorite childhood memories were made in that house. I hated it when you guys had to move.”

“Me, too,” Caroline's mother said.

“Why did you move?” Jane asked.

Caroline saw her mother hesitate for a second and rushed to fill the gap. “My father took a drive to Florida and never came back. Mom did an amazing job taking care of us.”

“Us?” Jane asked.

This time it was Caroline who faltered, so Polly quickly jumped in. “My aunt Lucy. She died when she was still a kid. Grandma was like some kind of superhero. Dealing with all that.”

“I'm so sorry,” Jane said. “I didn't know.”

“It's all right,” Penelope said. “Long time ago. Many days since then. We still miss her, but we''ve come a long way.”

We have come a long way, Caroline thought. And in that moment, as she came a little bit closer to accepting the random nature of her sister's death, Caroline thought of what Polly had said. And she supposed that she had somehow understood it all along. If you nudge an asteroid off course by just a tiny bit and give it enough time, it will end up in an entirely different place. Life is no different. Nudge someone one way or the next and a person's life trajectory can change forever. The events of the last few days were the direct result of a moment in a cafeteria a long time ago. A small act of cruelty made large by time. Caroline couldn't blame Emily for Lucy's death, even though it was Emily who had set things in motion that day so very long ago.

But Polly was also wrong, because unlike the asteroid, which floats through the void on a specific trajectory, there is no predetermined course for a human life. No intended destination. Emily might have nudged her life off course years ago, but had Caroline not been so hell-bent on winning her friend back, things could've turned out very different. It didn't make what Emily did any less cruel. Just less profound.

And even though she would've given anything to have Lucy back, Caroline had more than enough reasons to feel fortunate about where life had brought her. The accumulation of decisions and choices and random acts had led her to this place and this time, and it's wasn't all bad. She had a husband who she loved dearly. She had a daughter who she had grown to like as well as love, and someone whom she admired. Somewhere along the way, Polly had become Polly. Her own person. Not some hybrid version of her mother and father, as was the case for so many children, but her own self. Unlike anything Tom or Caroline were or could ever be.

Had her life been different, there might have been no Polly, and that would've been just as terrible as no Lucy.

“Maybe when you come back, we can do this at our place,” Emily said.

“That would be great,” Tom said. “We should probably make an effort to visit more often.”

“I've been telling my parents that for years,” Polly said.

“Yeah, we should,” Caroline said. She was surprised by these words, but they felt right. She had avoided this place for so long, but now it felt … better. Not exactly good, but not awful either. Just a place filled with memories. Some terrible, but some good ones, too. She hadn't seen the good ones in a long time, but they had begun to peek out from the thawing ground like spring's first flowers.

An hour later, they were saying their good-byes. Emily and Caroline were standing on the front porch, watching as Tom loaded what little luggage they had acquired during the trip into the trunk of his car.

“I feel like I should say more,” Emily said. “Like good-bye isn't enough.”

“We've said more than enough. For now, at least.”

“So this isn't good-bye forever?” Emily asked.

Caroline laughed. “I don't think so. Not if you don't want it to be. I'm not saying that we're going to be best friends again, but I'll at least save you a seat at the table.”

Emily reached out and hugged Caroline. They held each other for a long moment. Caroline breathed in and caught the smell of Emily's hair and skin. So many things had changed, but somehow, underneath everything, the past still lived and breathed as well.

“Enough, already,” Polly said, exiting the house and walking past the two women. “Get a freaking room.” Polly walked over to Emily's car and knocked on the window. Jane lowered it.

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry that I was such a bitch to you.”

“It's okay,” Jane said.

Then Polly leaned her head into the window, said something that Caroline couldn't hear, and stepped away.

“Ready?” Tom asked.

“Yup,” Caroline said. She turned back to Emily. “If you need to talk, call me.”

“I will,” Emily said. Caroline thought she would. Sooner than later. She wondered if Emily regretted the loss of her friend as much as Caroline had.

“Sorry for everything,” Polly said to Emily, who had stepped down off the porch with Caroline. “But not really.”

“Polly!” Caroline said.

“It's fine,” Emily said. “Is there anything better than a daughter who is willing to defend her mother to the end?”

Caroline thought not.

She got into her car and put the key into the ignition. The passenger-side door opened. Polly climbed in.

“You're not driving with Dad?” Caroline asked.

“Maybe I'll switch when we stop for lunch.”

“Are you sure?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah. We need to talk. I can't end up as the next Mas Brod.”

“Who?”

Polly signed. “
Max Broad.
The guy who promised Kafka that he would burn all of his unpublished manuscripts when he died.”

“And did he?” Caroline asked.

“Are you kidding me?

“Fine,” Caroine said. “He didn't burn them. What does that have to do with you?”

“You and Kafka are a lot alike. A couple of talented cowards. Actually, I think Kafka's overrated. That giant cockroach story is a joke. But you? You might be the real deal, Mom. If you'd ever let someone see your work. I don't want to be showing people those spider photos after you're dead. You need to find some eyeballs now.”

“And you're going to make that happen?”

“It's called the Internet,” Polly said. “I'll explain on the way.”

“Sounds good,” Caroline said. And it did. “But I get to listen to my music.”

Caroline shifted the car into reserve and started backing out. “Sorry. It's fifty-fifty in this car. Your mother is no pushover.”

“Relax, Mom. You're not exactly Helen of Troy yet.” She was silent for a moment, and then she added, “But you're a lot less Neville Chamberlain than I thought you were.”

Caroline wasn't sure who Neville Chamberlain was, but she assumed it was a compliment. She'd double check later on the Internet. “By the way,” she said. “What did you say to Jane? When you stuck your head through her window?”

“I told her that her mother was a hamster and her father smelt of elderberries.”

“Did she know what that meant?

“Nope,” Polly said with a giggle. “She just stared at me.”

“What does it mean?” Caroline asked.

Polly sighed. “It means that you and I are going to sit down in the living room tonight and watch
Monty Python and the Holy Grail,
so you'll stop asking such dumb questions.”

That sounded just fine to Caroline.