Crazy Times Before Showtime
Crazy Times Before Showtime
There is a story in every corner
This is chapter 42 in Ellie’s Story—a coming-of-age story about a mom who is 42. In this chapter, Ellie’s son, Alfred, and his friend, Hannah, have a play they have written and directed and are one week away from their debut. Alfred’s Grandma is going to end the play with a soliloquy of wisdom about her life and lessons learned. The day begins with Ellie going to work, and her friend Penny, who has had her own rollercoaster ride, asks for two tickets to Alfred’s play. Tom, Ellie’s boyfriend, finishes the chapter by sharing some career-changing plans.
The play was in one week, and it was “crazy times.” Tom was in a back-and-forth conversation with Oberlin. My mom was practicing for the play. At work, people were discussing whether Penny and I should travel to California to meet with the “senior team” to share our data.
If that weren’t enough, Penny told me that she wanted to make sure I got her a ticket for Alfred’s play, and “by the way, can you get one for Louis, too?”
“Louis?”
“Yes, Louis. We have started back up, and I will tell you more, but you’ve seemed very preoccupied, so I figured I’d wait until the time is right.”
“I think the time is right, Penny.”
“OK. We had coffee. Louis apologized for not really hearing me and explained that he was smitten with me, but he would calm down and not pressure me to do anything as long as he could still see me. He appears to mean it because we have gone out three times since then, and he is letting me call all the shots.”
“And you’re happy with the situation?”
“Yes. I like Louis — maybe a lot — and I am happy I stood up for myself. He is very sweet but slightly clueless in reading social cues.”
“But why do you want to take him to Alfred’s play? Didn’t you just see Wicked together? This will be a big comedown after Wicked.”
“Ellie, it’s like this. He knows you’re my best friend. He has heard me mention ‘brilliant Alfred.’ He wants to meet you and Alfred. He wants to be part of things in my life that are important to me.”
“OK, then, Penny. I will get you two tickets. Please tell me he doesn’t want to join our bridge game.”
“It’s never come up, and I’m not even sure he plays bridge, but I won’t mention it.”
Now, it was time to get to work. It would be a welcome break from the chaos I was feeling.
On my way home, my mom called. She wanted to come over, rehearse her part, and see what I thought.
“Fine, I’ll be home in 20 minutes. See you then.”
I got off the phone, only to have Tom call right after.
“Hey, Ellie. What are you doing now?”
“Meeting my mom at home so she can rehearse her part.”
“OK. I was just seeing if we could meet at Silkies, and I could tell you about my day, and Oberlin, and my meeting with Eddie, who I like even more than I did, which was already a lot.”
I wished I could clone myself, and for sure, I’d rather be at Silkie’s with Tom than meet my mom to hear her practice. Before I could apologize, Tom said,
“Ellie, no big deal. We can talk later. I haven’t seen you for two days, which feels too long, but your mom could use the support. She is probably very nervous about being on stage for her grandson’s play.”
We said some sweet things because we really couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, and then I arrived home.
My mom was waiting for me.
“Ellie, I haven’t been this nervous since I started as a bookkeeper in my first job after your dad died.”
I got my mom some tea and told her that all would be fine — “even better than fine” — to use words she once gave me. Then, I listened to my mom practice.
Her words were great, and after I got her to slow down, her delivery was excellent, too.
Her start caught me with a quiet, silent tear.
“I never could imagine I’d be in front of you sharing something about my life and what I learned, but at 66, I’ve learned a lot, and maybe my words can help you. <pause> Do you ever feel like you’ve made too many mistakes? I have felt that way for years. My husband died, and I would sometimes think back about our silly fights. I’d like a redo on those fights, but instead, I’ve placed them in my rearview mirror. When I raised my daughter — Alfred’s mom — I wasn’t always very good at listening. Sometimes, I would impose what I felt was important on her, even if it didn’t really match who Eleanor was. Thank God Eleanor listened to herself. The truth is that I don’t look back too much.”
Now, my tears were visible, and my mom stopped. “Ellie, you’re not supposed to cry. You’re supposed to realize how amazing you’ve been and continue to be. You are sturdy and strong, and you know what matters to you. I love that. So, now I’ll continue.”
And she did.
“My lesson to me is to spend less time looking back and more time looking forward. Learn from your past, but don’t beat yourself up about it. We can survive our biggest mistakes and still do quite well…”
My mom gave a few examples and played off of the apple analogy. She told me there would still be a small part she wouldn’t share now so I could hear it for the first time that night.
After she practiced a few more times, I fed my mom an early dinner and sent her packing. I had things to do, and Alfred would be home soon. I wanted to give him my undivided attention.
It was 6 PM when Alfred walked in, and he looked tired but less haggard than yesterday. Maybe he was getting to the end of the tunnel.
“Mom, please feed me, and I don’t care what it is.”
I got the message, and we ate spaghetti with marinara sauce, garlic bread, and broccoli. All three items are Alfred’s version of comfort food and would be well received.
“So, Alfred, how goes it?”
“In one week, we will have showtime. Right now, it feels rough, but Hannah says I shouldn’t worry because ‘we are where we need to be.’ I find that hard to believe, but Hannah is usually right about her world. Last time I calculated, she had about a 90% ‘right factor.’”
“Is that a thing? A ‘right factor’?”
“Mom, anything can be a thing. I came up with the term and my way of measuring, and it works for me.’”
“What is my ‘right factor’?”
“Not as high as Hannah’s. You’re somewhere around 80%.”
“Who has the highest right factor in your life?”
“It goes like this. Joey, with all his research and never wanting to hype anything, is at a whopping 94%. Hannah and Coach are tied at 90%. You’re at about eighty, along with Grandma. I track things and have a program to keep a running total of when something is said that feels important and turns out to be right.”
This was all fascinating, but I still had one more question as Alfred headed to his bedroom and Naruto.
“Have you measured your ‘right factor’?”
“Nope. It’s hard to be objective about yourself. You probably know that. You could ask Coach, or as you call him ‘Tom,’ to explain why.”
And that was that…
I was amused that Alfred had remarked on what I call Coach, which told me he was paying attention. The “right factor” measurements were very intriguing.
I texted Tom after making myself tea with a hint of honey. Right away, my phone rang.
“Ellie, I was hoping you’d be coming up for air. I miss you.”
I never get tired of hearing Tom tell me he misses me, just like I never get tired of telling him I love him. It took us almost two decades to find each other, and the wait was worth it.
I shared with Tom my crazy day. Louis coming to the play, maybe a trip to California, my mom rehearsing her part, and Alfred telling me about the “right factor.”
That last topic was most interesting to Tom, and he loved that he tied with Hannah in being “right.”
“Ellie, I am not very competitive, but every once in a while, I can surprise myself, like now. I love that only Joey beats me.”
I had to remind Tom that he didn’t know how Alfred calculated the “right factor.”
“It doesn’t matter. Once you’re a therapist, you realize there are so many ways to be ‘right.’ I am going to run a victory lap. Let’s give Alfred credit for finding a unique way to determine who his valued resources are.”
I chuckled because, of course, Tom was Alfred’s most valued male resource.
“Ellie, do you know who’s at the top of my list of valued resources?”
“I could guess.”
“Please don’t because I want the pleasure of telling you that you are there all by your lonesome, though some others matter.”
Since I was nearing the end of my ability to engage, I asked Tom to give me the skinny on his day before I went to sleep.
I learned that Oberlin was a focal point with strong interest on both sides, and they would compensate him well. Tom wanted a six-month trial to see how it felt and that his days would be Tuesday through Thursday. It seemed like they were closing in on a plan.
“Ellie, before I go further, I need to know if you are OK with this.”
I was because I knew that Tom needed to reconfigure his life quickly, and we might even like the mid-week break, which I mentioned.
“Ellie, that is plain silly. I won’t like being away from you, but I will like that I don’t have to hang my head in shame that I’ve fallen in love with you while coaching Alfred. If Oberlin works, my schedule would be to leave probably Monday night or Tuesday morning and return Thursday night. We can manage that.”
“Yes, we can.”
“OK, I’ll let you go. You sound tired. Last thing…after Alfred’s play, I am going to make the transition to Eddie. It is definitely time.”
“K. In you, I trust. Lead the way.”
“Thank you. Since you aren’t here right now, I will end my evening by playing some Gershwin. Maybe Rhapsody in Blue. You are going to get to know Gershwin very well. I can’t wait.”
“Sweet. Night night.”