Paula exited the FedEx office, the five boxes of family memorabilia on their way to Seattle. Her flight wasn’t for another seven hours and she debated how to spend the rest of her time. It would only take three hours to drive back to Portland, return the rental car and check her bags. She’d already said goodbye to Caroline and Rick, promising to keep in touch. She’d hired Rick to finish the packing, ensuring that she wouldn’t need to return to Eugene herself.
She turned toward the Cascades, a scenic backdrop to the city, and decided to take a short hike on one of the trails near the highway. She and Steph had spent a lot of time in the mountains, enjoying the pine-scented air and great views when they were in high school.
She swallowed hard, wondering how long it would take to erase the last few days from her mind. All she could think about was Stephanie, who filled her entire heart with pain and longing. She’d thought of nothing else except her mother’s letter since her talk with Ted. She knew she’d lost Steph but the anger she’d felt toward Francine was gone. Knowing that her mother approved of her love for Steph balanced her homophobia. It was enough.
She’d just passed Springfield when her cell phone chimed. She didn’t recognize the number but the call was local. “Hello?”
“Paula! It’s Debbie. Are you still in Eugene?”
She stumbled in surprise. “Uh, hi, Deb. Yeah, I’m still here for another hour or so. Then I’m off to Portland to catch my flight.”
“Terrific! Look, I know it’s a huge inconvenience but is there any way you could drop by my place before you go?”
She grimaced, grateful Debbie couldn’t see her. She didn’t want her last memory of Eugene to be a senior center but Debbie was like family. Without another thought she said, “Yeah, I can stop by, but only for a few minutes, okay?”
“Fabulous! I’ll see you in a short shake.”
She disconnected before Paula could say goodbye.
She took the next exit and turned around, heading back up the interstate toward Waverly Place. She wondered if the subject of John and her mother would come up and she didn’t know how she would handle it. Would Debbie be mad at her because her mother was a home wrecker?
She realized her thoughts were ridiculous as she turned into the parking lot. Most likely Debbie just wanted to say goodbye and Paula realized it would probably be the last time she saw her. It was apparent her memory was failing and she wondered how long it would take before her physical health followed. Then Steph would experience the loss of her mother too. It was different for a woman to lose her mother. Both of their fathers were dead, and while that was painful, particularly since it had happened at such a young age for Paula, it had been much worse to lose her mother. She imagined it would be the same for Steph since both of them were only children.
“I’m here to see Debbie South,” she said to the receptionist who gave her a suspicious look.
“You’re not one of those séance people, are you?”
“Uh, no,” Paula said, surprised by the question. “Debbie had a séance?”
The woman snorted. “There isn’t much Deb hasn’t done since she’s been here. Last week Madame Somebody-or-other arrived complete with her crystal ball and tarot cards. She set up shop in the ballroom and totally freaked out the residents. Mrs. Higgs nearly swallowed her dentures when she thought she’d had a vision of her dead husband. One of the orderlies had to give her the Heimlich maneuver. The director put a stop to it and kicked the madame out when she saw her passing a hat and the residents emptying their wallets into it.”
Paula snorted and pictured the havoc that Debbie had caused. She was certainly a force. “No, I’m not here to conduct a séance or anything else. Just a visit.”
The woman sighed heavily. “Good. I can’t take any more today. I’ve already got a splittin’ headache from the singing, if you can call it that.”
“Singing?” Paula asked.
“Debbie brought in a karaoke machine this morning filled with moldy oldies—and I mean really old stuff.” Paula guessed the receptionist was under twenty-five and she’d consider songs by Madonna to be oldies. “They’ve been out on the patio all morning rippin’ through these classics with everything they got.”
Paula chuckled and headed for the patio. While she was sure that most eighty-year-olds weren’t the greatest singers, she imagined that it was incredibly boring to live in a senior center. And the smell of sanitizer made her slightly dizzy. She realized that with her inheritance she could avoid this type of place.
Through the glass she could see the backsides of a large crowd gathered in a semi-circle. Some were standing while others were in wheelchairs and a few sat on the perimeter facing away from the circle mouthing the words to an off-key version of Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon” that bellowed through the speakers at an annoyingly high volume.
She stepped on the electrified doormat and the doors whooshed open. A woman sitting nearby in an iron patio chair shot her a glance and her eyes bulged as if Paula were King Kong. Paula stopped suddenly and stared at the old woman, who grabbed a mallet and smacked it against a small gong that sat next to her. The sound made Paula jump and she reflexively took a step away from the woman, who continued to pound on the gong.
Debbie emerged from within the circle and took the mallet out of the woman’s hand. She leaned over and yelled in her ear. “Thanks, Iris. You’ve been a great help.” Iris nodded fiercely.
Debbie looked up at Paula and held her arms out. Paula reluctantly embraced her but Debbie’s hug was strong. “Thanks for coming, sweetie. I don’t think you’ll regret it.”
Paula stared at her, a cynical expression on her face. “Debbie, what are you up to? Why would I possibly regret visiting you?”
Keeping her arm wrapped around Paula’s middle, she led her through the throng of geriatrics to a makeshift stage, where Steph stood, a microphone in her hand. Paula suddenly stopped and swallowed hard. She’d resigned herself to never seeing Steph again and how she’d live with the loss, but as she gazed upon her face, the entire plan burned away like the bonfire at her mother’s house.
The haunting bass notes of the Police’s “Every Breath You Take” filled the patio and when Steph crooned the title, Paula remembered her beautiful voice and the many times she’d belted out whatever was on the radio whenever they cruised Eugene. She’d sung in the concert choir throughout high school, inheriting her mother’s marvelous pipes. Of course, she’d never shared Debbie’s flair for showmanship and cringed when Paula had suggested that she audition for South Pacific, the junior-year musical. Paula’s motives had been selfish. She just wanted to see Steph dancing across a stage for three nights in a bikini.
The slow ballad shifted into high gear and Paula remained motionless, lost in her lovely voice and pained expression.
Steph stepped off the stage and faced Paula. She stumbled with the lyrics, unable to continue. Paula smiled and they floated together for a soft kiss.
“Holy hell!” one of the residents cried. “What’s going on?”
Paula heard Debbie comforting the shocked gentleman, who continued to rant about the idea of two women kissing, but she wouldn’t let go of Steph.
“I think it’s nice,” another female guest commented. “You should be able to love whoever you want.”
“You’re absolutely right, Eunice,” another voice said. “My nephew is one of the homosexuals and he’s the only one who bothers to come and visit me. Everybody else in the family would be happy if I rotted away.”
The kiss ended but they remained inseparable, their foreheads touching. Steph’s sweet breath lingered against her face.
“You oughta be careful,” another voice cracked and Paula couldn’t tell if it was male or female. “Those kind burn in hell.”
“Then they’ll be in very good company,” Debbie said, wrapping her arms around both Steph and Paula. “Well, you two look very happy again. I guess my little plan worked.”
Steph looked at her mother with a raised eyebrow. “Your plan? This was my idea, remember?”
“You? I’m shocked,” Paula said, nuzzling Steph’s cheek with her own. “You hate performing in front of people.”
“But I love you,” Steph whispered in her ear. “I’m not afraid of the future, of us.”
“And this is a tough crowd,” Debbie added. “Stevie just gave Old Man Sherman a swig from his flask to get him to shut up. I should probably skedaddle and go help him.” She kissed each of them on the cheek and went to help a resident out of her chair.
“She’s really unbelievable,” Paula said. “You’re lucky to have her for your mom.”
Steph nodded. “I know.”
“What about Lawrence and Eric?” Paula asked.
Pride filled Steph’s face. “My son proved what he’s made of. He wants to meet you. As for Lawrence, I don’t care.” She laughed and looked away. “We can both be penniless.”
Many of the residents tottered away or wheeled themselves back inside. They’d obviously decided the best part of the show was over and it was time to go in search of the next sliver of excitement that might charge their pulses or tickle their bored minds.
“Still planning on flying back today?”
Paula looked into her eyes and saw the worry. She touched her cheek and there wasn’t any doubt. She wanted to make up for the years and decades of absence. She vowed that they’d live a life as full and rich as possible. It’s what Mom wanted, she thought, remembering Francine’s last words—love her.
“I think,” Paula began, “that we should go celebrate with an extravagant picnic filled with expensive foods and a marvelous bottle of champagne. We’ll take it up to Heceta and eat it inside the lighthouse.”
Steph eyed her curiously. “Is spending a lot of money a good idea, considering your mother’s codicil and the bloodbath my divorce is about to become?”
Paula smiled and took her arm. “Honey, we have a lot to talk about.”