Bernice and Frank do Lunch

Bernice simply couldn’t trust the sat-nav in her car.  Not that it was totally unreliable, but it could take her on paths that were better left untrodden.  It had a preference for interstates instead of backroads, so often she would find herself doubling back to get where she wanted to go.  This is why she changed to Apple Maps.  It seemed to do the trick and also knew the most sensible way of getting someplace.  Like today.

Here she was, taking a delightful weekend drive up to Springfield, Massachusetts to see Frank’s new house.  She had the address on her phone and also instructions from Frank.  Would she get lost?  She had a propensity for that.  And Frank did warn her that the house was tucked away in the countryside, south and west of the city.  Oh well, nothing ventured.

She was excited to see the house.  She loved houses.  Her apartment complex was comforting in that she didn’t have to take care of outside maintenance.  And she liked her neighbors.  In fact, in her building there was a group of women her age who would get together for dinners and for the theater.  It was an easy life, not euphoric, but not depressing—except when she thought of what she used to have.

Oh, how she loved the house she and Jerry bought so many years before, brick with winding driveway, four bedrooms, two and a half baths, spring flowers, leaves falling in autumn, pushing the kids in the pram, then walking them to school.  Then empty nesting, where she and Jerry could—  Another lifetime. One that failed to materialize.

She was surprised that her son had bought a house.  Was there something going on that she didn’t know about?  Most likely.  The kids shared only what they wanted to.  Maybe the house would be a project for Frank, make him less stressed about being a lawyer—from which he was making a good living and thus could afford a house.

Mind wandering, she got lost.  Not unusual for her.  Maps were never her specialty.  She pulled to the side of the road and called her son and told him where he pone said she was.  He seemed to know that road and would would drive out to meet her.  Then she could follow him to the house.  And there he came.  She was only one turn off on a parallel road, his was much narrower with planted fields running behind several of the houses.

Not that she would tell him, but she didn’t think much of Frank’s purchase when she pulled into the driveway.  It was clapboard of all things.  But she would not be a Debbie Downer, especially since this was a day out with her son instead of sitting around her apartment wondering what to do with her life.  Bernice followed him around the house and listened while he excitingly told her all his plans for it.  She would not kill the buzz.  “A lot of work,” was all she said.

“A project.  It’ll be fun.  Some of it I’m going to do myself.”

Turning abruptly, she reminded him, “We always had people in to take care of any problem.”

He shrugged.  “So.  I can learn.  Like getting rid of the wallpaper so I can paint.”

She took in a deep breath and almost began, but he cut her off.  “Mom.  No.  I’m a big boy now.  If I fuck it up—“

“Language.”

“I can hire someone to correct my mistakes.”

Miraculously she held her tongue, and soon they were pulling out of his driveway, as he was taking her out to lunch.  Where she would quiz him further.  Like, “What possessed you to buy that house?”

They were in a gastro pub, with faux stained glass lamps and greenery placed strategically.  Everything on the menu looked delicious, which meant she was hungry.  Too bad she couldn’t have a glass of wine as she’d be driving later.  Oh well.

“I like it up here.  It’s away from work, away from the city, quiet, isolated.  Good wifi reception, despite the rustic nature of the road.  Another pandemic I can work remotely.”

“But to buy a house—  It’s such a big step.“

“What else should I do with my money?”

How could she put the question obliquely.  “Most people buy a house when they’re thinking of starting a family.”

Frank batted that away.  “People buy houses for all sorts of reasons.  Believe me.  I was in residential real estate for years before switching to commercial.  Some consider it investment property, others want more space, less space. Or they need a mother-in-law suite.  There’s no rhyme or reason for buying a house, except it’s part of the American dream.”

“Still—  Is—is there anyone you bought the house for?”

Laughing when he finally caught on to what she was digging for, Frank said, “No, Mom.  There’s no one in my life at the present with whom I would ever invite to share my house.  Except—“  He wondered.  “You know, when I went to see you for your birthday, I ran into Lily Stanton.”

“Eden’s former friend?”

“We got to talking and—-“

“Oh, no, Frank.  Stop right there.  The Stantons are poison right now and will be well into the future.  I know that much, even though I no longer belong to the country club.  Do we really need to be associated with another scandal?  Lily Stanton?  Honestly!”

“Wow.  Talk about jumping to conclusions.  I didn’t say anything about—“

Bernice cut him off.  “You know, Frank, I’m just recovering from the mess your father left.  Not that I see many of my former circle of friends, the ones I had with your father, but I’m sure the news that my son and the swindler’s daughter are taking up with one another would bring a few gossipmongers to the library to check out more than books.  So have some consideration.”

“Why are you exploding?  I’m not saying anything about a relationship.  It’s just she wants to get out from under the constant scrutiny, which you should be able to empathize with, given Dad and Heidi.  Also, she’s dealing with her parents every minute of every day, as she works remotely.  I have this house. She wants a bolt hole.”

“For a smart person, how can you be so dumb?”

“You don’t know anything about Lily.  Or my very, very platonic relationship with her.”

“Well, Frank, I used to know a lot about Lily.  She was always over at our house or Eden was over at hers.  She was a very polite young lady and I was fond of her.  Even after she and Eden had that silly, childish spat over some football player.  Oh that’s something else to consider, aside from the obvious.  How would Eden feel if she knew you were taking up with Lily Stanton?”

“I’m not taking up with her,” Frank protested.  “We’ve just been messaging back and forth, and I find her amusing and relatable, and we both have scandalous parents.”

“Dying during the sex act is not exactly the same as swindling everyone you’ve ever met, ruining people’s retirements, dealing with gangsters, at some point going to jail.  Let me just say those are not our kind of people.”

Frank laughed.  “But that’s just it, Mom.  They were exactly our kind of people.”

“Well, not anymore.  And don’t make me lose my appetite because everything looks delicious.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“So we’re agreed.  End of discussion.”

“I didn’t say I agreed with you.”

When does one lay down the burden of motherhood?  Never?  “Frank, listen to me.  Let’s say you do invite Lily to stay in your wilderness home.  Then what happens if at some point you ask her to leave?  What are the lawyerly complications of that?  Would she be your tenant?  Would she have a lease?  Would she be paying rent?  If not, what would she be?  Honestly, Frank, keep her at a distance.  You’re here, isolated from the Scarsdale scandals.  Leave it that way.”

Thankfully that conversation came to an end as their food arrived and they both turned to a more pleasant topic, renovating the house.  Well, pleasant for Frank.

Driving back home after lunch, Bernice hoped she had convinced her son to drop the idea of having Lily Stanton to stay.  She had nothing against the girl, but to have Frank involved with her, she couldn’t think of a single point of approval.  And what if Eden did hear about it?  Bernice shuddered.  The drama queen would never give any of them a break.