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Ten

Janis Kingsley

    “Any marriage over ten years is a successful one in my book,” my mom said. We sat at Porta Via, our favorite restaurant in the Palisades. It’s a hot sunny day, and we are the only people it seems without a dog on this Tuesday afternoon at lunch. My mom’s silver-gray hair glistens in the sun. “That’s good news then mom, since my marriage lasted eighteen years,” I said. We both smile and clink our glasses.
    We have these conversations sometimes when I need reassurance from her that I’m okay. I’ve been divorced for over six years, but that doesn’t mean I don’t continue to doubt myself. I’ve always needed to know that I’m doing what’s right and preventing unfavorable outcomes. I breathe easier when she smiles and says she stands behind me.
    “Mom, when you think back to you and dad, what drew you to him?” I asked. My mom sips her iced tea and smiles. “You know, I thought your dad was brilliant. When I started working for him, I just hung on every word he said. He would talk to me about one of the shows he was working on, like National Geographic; he would run his fingers through his hair and give me that look, the one that made me believe that his world was his for the taking and I was his Slim, and well, you know how I loved Lauren Bacall.”
    My mom’s eyes sparkled as she told me this story and I thought back to the time I was flying to be with my dad before he died. My mom texted me before takeoff. She wrote: please tell your dad that he was the most important man in my life and he taught me so much.
    My mom wiped some of the spaghetti sauce off the corner of her mouth. “I think I loved his mind and the rest just followed,” she said.
    She loved his mind and the rest just followed, I repeated silently. I wondered what that was like. Often, I find myself loving someone’s mind afterwards, but it’s not the first thing that attracts me to the person. When I find that someone doesn’t have much of one, however, well, that pushes me to exit a relationship. FAST.
    I thought about the fact that my mom was the other woman for ten years before being married to him. I thought about how she was able to put up with the uncertainty of being in that kind of situation for all that time. I thought about all she sacrificed. I thought about how love changes.
    We asked the waiter for the check and my mom paid the bill. My mom always pays the bill. We walked slowly to the car with my mom’s arm in mine keeping her balanced. “Getting old is no fucking fun,” my mom said. I look at her as I open the car door. She sits down in the passenger seat. I lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I know mom. I love you,” I said.
    We drove down Sunset to my mom’s home. We pass by all the homes that now are two- and three-story mansions with no land. Decades ago, they were tiny cottages with large front and backyards.
    We arrive at the house, and I walk my mom to the door with her hand in mine and as we kiss goodbye, I tell her I love her. “Isn’t it nice to know that?” she replied. “What do you mean?” I asked. “It’s nice to know that we love each other. That will never change.” She closes the door behind her.

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