As I sat at Panera this afternoon, pretending to study, I witnessed some version of the following exchange.
Birthday Surprises, or
The story of her life, as overheard in Panera
1. They
sit awkwardly at the table, trying to find the normal that at one time must
have fit.
He cuts the
muffin, unceremoniously, pushes half towards her,
then checks his
phone, glances around, scoots his chair in, then out, then in again,
takes the lid off her coffee cup and asks,
takes the lid off her coffee cup and asks,
"You want
sugar?"
She nods.
2. "Take
off your coat," he says. "It's
warm in here."
He tears open a
Splenda and dumps it in her cup.
"What did
you do that for?" she asks, voice rising.
"You wanted
sugar, Mom. You want sugar in your
coffee."
"I know,"
she says, glaring at him.
She pauses, then
pats his hand.
"That's okay,"
she says, smiling.
"That's just okay."
3. She
tugs on her coat and says, "it's warm in here."
"I know,"
he says, and takes off her coat without another word.
She picks up her
coffee and sloshes it down her pink sweater.
"Oh!"
she exclaims, frantically brushing the opposite side from the spill. "I've ruined it."
He scoots his
chair out. Uncrosses and recrosses his
legs. Hands her a napkin.
"That's
okay," he says, glancing around.
"That's
just okay."
4. He
checks his phone. Scoots his chair
in. Out.
In. Runs his fingers through his
hair.
"This is a
birthday muffin," he says, pointing to the muffin neither have touched.
She looks at it,
and then at him. "I won't eat it."
"It's for
you. For your birthday. A nice birthday muffin."
She laughs and
he holds out a piece.
"I won't
eat it from you," she says, folding her arms.
He excuses
himself from the table.
"Read the
paper, Mom," he says, pushing the news towards her.
"Catch up
on the world."
5. When
he returns, all is forgotten.
"We'll stay
half an hour more," he says. He pulls
out an iPad,
"It's
amazing what they make now, Mom. Look at
this."
She looks, briefly, then points at her sweater.
She looks, briefly, then points at her sweater.
"Is this
color nice?" she asks.
"Sure, Mom."
She blushes and
her voice rises a notch.
"Oh you," she says.
"Oh you," she says.
"Don't try to
make me beautiful."
6. He
turns the iPad to her.
"This is
your grandson. In a couple months, he'll
be a lawyer."
"A
lawyer!" she gasps. "He looks
nice. He has eyes."
"And a nose
and a mouth. He's your grandson,"
he says.
He softens and
adds, "he's a good guy."
"I should
say so," she says, bristling.
He takes a bite
of the muffin.
So does she.
7. "Remember
when we had big birthday parties at your house?" he asks.
She smiles.
He sits still
for the first time since they arrived and pulls up another picture.
"Remember
this?"
She looks at the
picture, then looks closer.
"That's a photograph,"
she says, voice full of wonder.
She touches the
iPad, gently, then looks at him, saying,
"It's
amazing what they make now."
8. He
takes another bite of muffin.
So does she.
"That's
Dad. That's you," he says,
pointing.
"That's
me?" she asks, laughing.
He smiles. Leans back in his chair,
reveling in the
momentary normal they've found.
"I was
beautiful," she says, quietly,
"I think we all were."
"I think we all were."
9. They're
quiet for a time.
"I just
don't know anymore," she admits, about nothing in particular.
"It's
okay," he says. "I love that I
get to surprise you
with the story of
your life."
