I woke up with so many thoughts on my mind that I felt there was a spinner like you’d use in a board game, and every few minutes, it would be spun with the arrow pointing to a new topic.
First and foremost, I had Tom on my mind. There was no denying our connection. I know we both felt it and didn’t know what to do with it.
Then I had Tova on my mind. I planned to email her today and, hopefully, get something on our calendar very soon. I really need someone to bounce my thoughts off of.
I never lose sight of Alfred. He is the center of my universe, but he was not top of mind today. He has been busy. Writing a play with Hannah, doing his daily dog walks to the park with Joey and Calvin, and even occasionally finding time to make a quick batch of Soho Glob cookies means that I’m not at the top of Alfred’s mind either. I consider that a positive development. We love each other but don’t depend on each other to meet our daily social needs.
I was very glad that my day did not include seeing Penny. She would be nosey, act on instinct, and for sure ask me where and when I’d seen Tom. I wouldn’t know what to say and would try to change the subject. She is too crafty to let that happen, and then I’d probably hear something like,
“I can just feel something is happening.” Or else,
“I have wanted this for you longer than you’ve wanted it for you.”
Whatever she’d say would annoy me, and I’d walk out on her. Yay for it being Sunday. By Monday, when I see her, I will have calmed down and figured out some good topics to discuss.
I crawled out of bed only to find Alfred in the kitchen, reading his book and eating cereal. Even though Alfred is an early riser, this was earlier than usual.
“Good morning, Alfred. You’re up early today!”
“Mom, we’ve got a busy day.”
This was news to me because I didn’t remember discussing anything about the day. So, I just said, in a lightly inquisitive voice, “We do?”
That was when I found out that Alfred wanted to go clothes shopping. Talk about a surprise. In Alfred’s sixteen years, he has never wanted to go clothes shopping.
What changed? Is my whole world undergoing reconstruction?
That was when Alfred and I had this quirky conversation, and I decided that, yes, it actually was.
Alfred: Mom, I thought you’d be happy that I want to go clothes shopping. You’ve been wanting me to take an interest in how I look for years.
Mom: I am happy…just surprised, is all. What made you decide to go clothes shopping?
Alfred: A few things. Hannah and I are working on writing the play. Then we’re going to direct it. I want to look like someone who has written a play and is up for the challenge of directing.
Mom: What does someone look like who has written a play?
Alfred: I’m not sure. I googled that and also asked Joey. There doesn’t seem to be a clear answer. So, Joey asked his mom, who said that there was no specific way to dress but that maybe I just wanted to look crisper.
Mom: Like a head of lettuce?
Alfred: Ok, that was funny. You might be tired, or at least you look like you are, but you’ve got your humor muscle working.
Mom: Well, I’m wondering what “crisper” really means. Did you ask Hannah?
Alfred: No. I don’t want her weighing in, and I don’t want her to know that I am more conscious of my looks. I don’t know what conclusions she might draw.
Mom: Got it. So again, any thoughts on what “crisper” means? Since we are going shopping today, I’d like to have a feel for what I’m looking for.
Alfred: The closest I come is picturing Coach. He always wears beige pants — “khakis,” they’re called. I looked it up. They don’t make a big statement, but they look nice. He also wears shirts with collar buttons, and they’re nice and simple. Great colors, too — blue, light green, yellow, and once even pink.
Mom: You’ve really studied his wardrobe.
Alfred: Nope, I haven’t studied it. I am just being Alfred and noticing everything.
Mom: So, if we can find you clothes that have you looking somewhat like Coach, you’ll be happy.
Alfred: Yes.
With that, we were set. We had a plan, and I had a vague idea of what we were looking for. We headed out mid-day and were successful in finding pants and shirts. I wasn’t quite used to the look on Alfred, but I saw it as a sign of growth. I also couldn’t escape thinking he had patterned himself after Coach. Tom seemed to be leaving big footprints everywhere.
For his part, Alfred said he wouldn’t dress this way every day.
“Just on special days.”
I wasn’t sure what special days were, but it didn’t matter, and I was tired and wanted to finish up.
We got stuck when we went looking for shoes. I suggested we come back on another day to tackle that, and in the meantime, we could just get Alfred a new pair of sneakers.
“Ok, but not Converse hightops.”
Of course, not Converse hightops, I thought. Alfred doesn’t play ball, and he doesn’t want to be a fake. Ordinary sneakers would work.
We got home from shopping, and I was pooped. I had enough left in me to send Tova an email. I was glad Alfred didn’t ask me how my journal was going or whether I had seen Coach. I would never lie to him. I would have said something like “good” and “yes” and hope we left it at that.
Fortunately, Alfred, the 16-year-old, focused on himself and his new “crisper” appearance. He never asked.
I sat down to send my email to Tova. There, in my inbox, was an email from Tom.
Butterflies.
Ellie,
Thanks for meeting me at Silkie’s yesterday. I like this new habit we might be developing. I still don’t know what to say, but I knew I wanted to write you. Do you have to be so smart, and funny, and real? As I said yesterday, we’ll figure it out.
I really think you are going to like Tova.
We are going to stay in touch.
Tom
Oh my, I thought. My world may be about to open up, and I hope I can deal with this. I haven’t even shared with Tom that I have a son who wants to dress just like him. Maybe it means nothing more than I’ll be seeing Tom in every corner of my life.
Time to call it a day. Tomorrow, I’ll write my next journal entry.
The only thing left in me is to email my book group because we are meeting this week. We will be discussing Olive Kitteridge.
Now, Olive is someone I would call on the “crisp side.”
I like how this “Mom” is becoming so much more, coming to life, becoming a woman, a human being.