A Sunday Afternoon Cookout at Age 32
I’m running around the living room, picking up pillows and tossing them on the couch, grabbing toys, rearranging shelves… things I should have done an or hour two ago, but in typical Grace-fashion, I’m late. “Has everyone brushed their teeth?” I snag my 6- and 7-year-olds, knowing they haven’t, and send them in the direction of the bathroom. I’m intent on getting this room straight… granted, we’ll be spending most of today outside… and yes, all my friends have seen the house messy at one point or another… but still…
“Honey.” I glance up, and see my husband standing there, our two-year-old son on his shoulders. He looks like he may have been standing there for a while. “Stop stressing.” And I as I lean into him, I do stop. He squeezes my hand, then turns sharply at the sound of two high-pitched squeals-turns just in time to see our twin 5-year-olds race down the stairs towards the front door. “No running in the house,” I call half-heartedly. He just smiles and shakes his head, and with another squeeze he follows the boys.
“Get these kids away from me!” More squeals, giggles. I arrive on the scene just as Jessica relents her teasing and squats down to be tackled by five of my seven kids. My oldest, at age 9, has recently decided he’s too big to tackle adults, although he patiently waits for her to stand so he can get a hug of his own. The boy atop his daddy’s shoulders is bouncing up and down and shrieking with the rest of them; somehow, my husband manages a smile despite the party over his head and the near loss of handfuls of hair our son has grabbed in his excitement.
“Good Lord, when are you going to stop having children?!” she demands laughing as she untangles herself and reaches to give me a hug. “When are you going to start?” I ask back, eyebrows raised. “Get off me, I’m still a newlywed!” she replies. That seems to remind her that Robbie is still outside the door, waiting patiently for us to clear the foyer.
They’d been married just over a year now. He started out as just a customer in her little shop downtown. He’d attended some of her shows, even bought one of her creations. Then he began showing up at the shop three or four times a week. Then they started meeting for lunches, then dinners… it was like an onscreen romance. I teased Jessica that she’d been tricked into the whole thing by his undying admiration. Robbie was an artist himself, in a way. He wrote for the local paper. He’d actually won a few awards… although the only one he ever had framed was the one he received for his piece on a painting Jessica had done just for him.
“Guess we’ll see you in a minute!” I shout to their backs as my kids dragged both to the back porch, where my husband has the grill set up, ready to begin the afternoon’s cookout. As I turn back towards the front door, I see two more cars pulling up. “There’s O’Brian and Rome! Hmm, who’s that behind them?
“Looks like… is that… Brittany?” It was! She and Mickey, her boyfriend of almost three years, along with his two kids. “Hey guys!” I shout, heading towards them. “The kids are already out back,” I tell the children, as they give quick hugs and head that direction. O'Brian looks at Jessica's car. “I see I’m not the first one here. Hath Hell frozen over?” Rome rolls his eyes behind O’Brian, smiling at the sarcasm as I go to hug them both.
They’d met at a frat party O’Brian’s senior year. He’d been dragged there by friends, and Rome was pretty much in the same situation. They left together that night, and within two years they were living in their own apartment. They’d decided to vacation in New York one Christmas, and had come back married. They were both professors now, O’Brian teaching English and Rome teaching math. I’m sure both got tired of the surprised looks we all must have given when we first met Rome. Just proof of the old saying, opposites attract. I was always wondering how long it’d be before they moved away from me. They’d revisited New York a few times since their marriage, and they’d stayed there a full month when O’Brian was doing book-signings there. I figured it was just a matter of time; O’Brian’s homebody instincts could only stand strong for so long before his love of activities and action, not to mention the romance of the big city, won out.
“Hey Girl!” Brittany smiles as I run to hug her; she looks great. She and Mickey met when she was volunteering at some local something-or-other, whatever philanthropy she’d had her business adopt this past year. They’d been good for each other. She’d helped him get organized, something he hadn’t been able to do since his wife had left. He helped her unwind, something she’d never been able to do. I knew there was talk of marriage… just talk, so far, but there was no doubt in my mind that it would happen. They made each other happy.
“Jessica and Rob are already out back with my crew,” I say, leading them around the house. We small talk until I hear the phone ring; it’s Lance. They’ll be here in five minutes. I put up the foods the others have brought until I see them pull into the yard. Lance is gesturing to their little girl, who’s bouncing up and down in the back seat; she looks like she’s trying very hard-and very unsuccessfully-to pay attention. They get out of the car, and she bounds towards me for a quick kiss before I point her to the back with the rest. “Grace, tell Lance that she is too young to be learning about ketosis or mitosis or whatever it was you were trying to explain to her all the way here.”
“Lance, she is too young-” I start, only to be cut off by an indignant Lance. “She asked why raw vegetables were hard, and cooked ones were soft. I was just trying to answer the question!” Greg gives me a look that says clearly, “See? Still crazy,” before glancing down at me. “You look like you’re about to pop.” I feign hurt, exclaiming resentfully “I still have three more months before he’s due!”
“Well, you look like you’re-” Lance shoves a carrot from the veggie tray they’ve bought into Greg’s mouth before he can insult me further, and I walk with them towards the house. Greg groans as we pass the mantelpiece in the living room, just like he always does at the site of him, age 19, with flaming pink hair. “When are you going to burn that picture?” he asks as he turns the frame face-downward. I don’t even bother to answer; the question is an old one. I just turn to laugh, noticing Lance’s smile as he rights the picture and follows us through the back door.
They moved in together less than a month after Greg’s graduation. Lance had gone straight back to school to work on his doctorate, and Greg had two or three job offers waiting on him when he returned. They talked about going off to get married; they’d even traveled out of state a couple times to do just that. But they held out. And they were one of the first couples to be married in Alabama in 2010, when the old laws were finally repealed. Within a year they decided to adopt Madeline, a then three-year-old little girl. She had just turned 8, and was best friends with my oldest child. Lance was… well, himself about the whole process: nervous, edgy, worried. But he was also very Lance-like when she finally arrived: perfect. Fatherhood suited him; suited Greg, too. They made one very happy little family.
No sooner have we walked out to the porch than I hear the doorbell ring inside, and I turn back around to answer it. “Noel!” I scream as I fling open the door. “Gracie-Lou!” After a few minutes of hugs and kisses, I finally have enough sense to back up and let Greg in; he’s holding their two little girls, both fast asleep in his arms. I hug him with a little-just a little-more composure, surprised the kids have remained asleep. “Is there somewhere we can let them nap?” Noel asks quietly as I let them inside. I help her lay them down in our nursery, commenting on their matching pink outfits and tiny pink bows. “How old are they now?” I whisper. “Eleven and 26 months,” she replies softly, stroking the fine hair of the baby.
“Get ready…” I warn a mintue later, opening the porch door. “Noel!!!” It’s hard to tell who yells louder, the children or the adults.
She and Greg come down about once a year, now. I’d even taken my family up to visit them once, a few years back. They’d gotten married just a few years after she’d moved up there; they’d come to Alabama for the wedding, to be close to her family and friends. We’d all been a little lofty about Greg-at first, anyway. After all, he’d taken one of our best friends! It didn’t take long for the good qualities Noel had discovered long ago to push doubts from our minds, though. They were good together. They were just lucky to have found each other so early. He owned a comic book store up in Kansas, and she helped him run it. He’d actually been written about in a couple magazines for his vast collection; the same magazine company began publishing his original works a year later.
When the chaos caused by Noel’s arrival finally subsides, I call over two of my kids. “Run next door for Momma and see what Meaghan and Christian are up to, please.”
The two of them had a romantic enough tale. Meaghan had begun to frequent the bookstore where he worked during their college years; they finally started talking, only to find out that they had pretty much everything in common. They started dating, and he proposed the night she graduated. After their marriage, Meaghan began work to support Christian as he began working to get his medical license. They’d had to live pretty scantily for the next few years, but it had paid off. Now Christian was a prominent doctor, and Meaghan had retired from the mainstream work force. They’d built their home next to mine a few years back, and Meaghan now gave piano and violin lessons from her house. I’d shooed my kids from listening under her window half a dozen times before I’d realized they were just enjoying the sound of her playing to her students.
“Alright, we’re here, let the party begin!” I glance up to see Meaghan being dragged forward, followed by Christian, who is holding the little boy they’d adopted less than a year ago. “You’re still not the last one… has anyone heard from Shareese or Carlos?” I question. “How about T.J. and Michelle? April and Michael? Britni and Sean? Lindsey and Leon?”
“What are you talking about? April and Michael are here!” Turning, I see April holding the hands of two of their kids, their oldest, Savannah, steps behind holding the last child, with Michael two steps behind her. Triplets. April had always joked about how they ran in her family. Less than two years after they were married, back in 2006, she had become pregnant: two boys and a girl. Her stepdaughter, Savannah, had been a big help with them, since she was so much older. April seemed as happy as she’d ever been; Michael had reached something in her no one else had ever been able to reach, years ago.
I greet them both, send Michael towards the grill where most of the men are hovering, point the children towards the swing set where the crowd of kids are playing, and take April’s hand to lead her towards the table where the rest of us are sitting.
“I’m going to start calling… wait, there’s someone.” I head towards the front yard; it’s T.J. and Michelle and their boys, ages three and five. Just as I start to tease Teej about being late, he holds up a hand and begins rattling off functions to which I’ve been late, including everything from plays we did in high school to Shareese’s wedding a few years back. I’m laughing too hard to stop him, but the list finally ends as we reach the crowd out back.
I’m glad they’re in town this week. They usually spend the whole summer at their house in California. If it hadn’t been for Michelle, I doubt T.J. would spend any time here in Alabama. The met in college, too. How two people as quiet as them ever got to talk, I’ll never really understand. They started as lab partners or something… eventually began dating. They had a quiet little ceremony on the beach in California…they make a perfect couple. Michelle calms T.J., helps him unwind. They’ve got beautiful sons; I think they’re still trying for a little girl, though.
As I get their family situated, I hear the phone ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Beautiful.” Jess! “Hey, Beautiful!” To the others: “Guys, it’s Jess! It’s Jess, from Europe! I mean in Europe!” Before I can utter anything besides a greeting, the phone has been snatched out of my hands, and I watch as it is passed around our growing group. Jess has been touring Europe with her latest book for the last year and a half. I’ve got a whole shelf full of her poetry, and a dozen CDs she’s sung on with other artists. She never went for the spotlight, though. Just before heading overseas, she stayed a month at my house, while she worked on her next novella. She claims she relaxes here; I don’t understand how, with the chaos of my large family, but I didn’t argue. I just enjoyed the time. She still hasn’t married… not that she hasn’t had the chance. I think maybe Jess is too much of a romantic to settle down-permanently, at least. Right now she was seeing a French pianist she’d met in her travels. I couldn’t tell exactly what she thought of him, except I knew she was as in love as she’d ever been. She even talked of bringing this one stateside with her.
I finally receive the phone. “So that’s everyone here so far… no, a few more… Lindsey and Leon aren’t here yet… yeah, they’re doing well… let’s see, oh, Shareese and Carlos aren’t here yet either… Britni and-oh, wait, there’s someone… it’s Shareese! Yeah… just a sec… love you, too… here she is.”
Shareese is less than two steps out of the car as I shove the phone in her face and send her towards the others outback. “Let me help you with that,” I tell Carlos as I take one of the two pies they’ve brought. We walk towards the kitchen, as he begins to tell me one of his many stories that somehow this event has brought to mind. He’s a great storyteller. He saw Shareese performing with the Alabama Opera Company. It was her last show there; he offered her a full time position with his company, which was at the time unknown. They began traveling, first just in the south, the all over the country. They’d just recently started touring in Canada, and Carlos had even gotten a call from some ritzy place in England requesting a performance. I’d never seen anyone who admired another person as much as Carlos admired Shareese. He claims he knew they would marry the moment he laid eyes on her. The way she tells it, they did nothing but fight as they began work together. I believe that both stories are partially true… either way, they ended up together. It’s the end that counts, right?
Just as I’m finished putting things up in the kitchen, I hear the doorbell ring… and ring… and continue ringing. That’d be Lindsey. “I’m coming!” I shout, heading towards the door. Leon’s busy trying to stop their four kids from running around back, while Lindsey’s busy ringing the doorbell as many times as she possibly can before I reach the door. I say four kids; they actually have only two, but they started fostering children a few years ago. So, for the moment at least, they have three girls and one little boy. I open the door and Lindsey finally stops long enough to hug me and heads into the house like it’s her own. “I swear, she’s just like one of the kids,” Leon complains, but he’s smiling as he looks heavenward for patience.
The two of them were finally married about three years after Lindsey graduated. They broke up sometime during her sophomore year, and didn’t even speak until they ran into each other in the park one evening right after Leon’s college graduation. They ended up sharing the oysters Lindsey had brought and catching up all night. Pretty soon they were dating again… and, well, now they were together. Lindsey had sewn some wild oats, to be cliché, and Leon had discovered a lot more about himself while they were apart. It all worked out for the best. Now she was busy campaigning for mayer, and Leon was busy enough himself with whatever new business venture he'd just started.
“Well, you guys make your way out back… I’m about to call Britni and see what’s keeping her and Sean.” I say, ushering them outside. A few minutes later I’m on the phone just to hear Britni say she’s in the driveway. I walk outsided to hear her and Sean talking… and something else. “Britni! You didn’t bring… ack, you did!” I say as two of her little dogs bound towards me. “Do you have any idea how many children are out back!?” I say with mock severity, knowing that the kids know Britni and Sean well enough that they expect at least one of her dogs to be here. “Hey, I brought the little ones! They love the kids! Isn’t that right? Don’t you love all those kids out there? Here’s a couple gallons of sweet tea,” she says, switching easily in and out of baby language.
She and Sean owned their own veterinary practice now. They met at the pound, when they were both volunteering during school. They had just recently expanded to handle almost any animal; he took the larger ones, and often made house calls to farms and such, while Britni worked with the domesticated animals and a few of the more exotic pets. The kids loved going to her house; she always had some new animal there that she was nursing back to health. She was now expecting their first child; she was actually about as far along as I. I couldn't help but tease her about how she already treated those dogs like they were children anyway...
So that’s everyone… all my friends accounted for on this Sunday afternoon. The grill is going, the kids are playing, the parents are sitting around talking… It’s just like I always imagined it would be. Jess is making another round via telephone, it appears. Leon, Mickey, and Sean are roughhousing with the boys… O’Brian, Rome, and Robbie are in some deep conversation… Greg is teasing Jessica about something… Lance is talking to Christian about the latest newfangled something… Noel is dragging her Greg around, and holding all the babies one at time… Meaghan is talking to Shareese about her latest production… Michelle and April are exchanging recipes, it looks like… Brittany’s talking to Michael about some tattoo she still plans to get… Carlos is listening to Britni explain something about one of her pets, while Lindsey sits on the ground, loving on the two pups… T.J.’s helping my husband at the grill… and I’m sitting on the porch swing, drinking ice tea, and just savoring the moment. Life is good.