Page 120 of Fortunate Misfortune
I scoff. “The memories? Nan, come on.”
“You must’ve forgotten that I haven’t been able to live at my home. It’s beenyears, Kenny Boy. My bed. My kitchen. My garden. My lake. The place I love most is only three minutes down the road, but some days it feels like I’m thousands of miles away. I’m only able to go home on the lucky days when you take me, which I love, but it hurts every single time. Memories are all I have now.” Nan gives me a disappointed head shake, and regret sits heavily on my chest as she shuffles away from me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I say quickly. Fracturing my relationship with Nan is the last thing I need right now.
When I turn around, Nan is on the ground reaching for something under the bed. Without wincing, she stands and dusts whatever she found off. She still doesn’t speak to me as she walks back to the couch and drops something heavy in my lap.
It’s a photo album, worn from years of flipping through it at the dining table with Nan and Karla, stuffed with photos we took on disposable cameras. I smile at the first picture. It’s so familiar. Red hair, a mess of freckles, and the dock that looks like it could collapse. Beneath the photo in Nan’s messy handwriting reads “Kenneth, 4.”
“I know it sounds silly, but this is what I hold tight to. The moments I’ll cherish long after Lake Anita no longer belongs to us.”
She flips to a photo of Cade pushing Karla on the swing-set, moments before she accidentally kicked him in the stomach, and he tossed her into the lake. The next is of Nan, replanting tomatoes in her garden because I kept picking them before they were ripe. A rare photo of Keaton surrounded by Easter eggs makes me pause. He’s seated on Nan’s lap, smiling at whatever she whispered into his ear.
“It was impossible to capture every moment on camera, but I’m holding onto the ones in here and in my head for dear life.” She rubs her finger over a photo of my mother and father, their smiles wide and arms wrapped around each other. “Your father had just proposed to Ellen. Right there on the dock at Lake Anita. I sat inside, patiently waiting so we could all celebrate. Theo was so happy that day.”
“Wait. They got engaged at the lake?” I ask.
She nods. “Your dad loved Lake Anita. He still loves it, even though he may not act like it. That’s why he pays for it and takes care of it.” Flashes of nostalgia hit me as she flips through the pages. “Still, using it as a means to control you will never be okay.”
After a few minutes, she closes the book and puts it aside. “I think you know what you want, but you’re afraid to tell me, so I’ll say it for you. Let Lake Anita go.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
She leans up to pat my cheek and sighs. “Let it go and treasure the good things Lake Anita brought you. The shared experiences, meaningful conversations, and emotional connections with the people you love. Your future is the only thing that matters to me, Fishie. I’d give it all up for you.”
Disappointing Nan is the last thing I want to do, and I believed that no matter what I chose, both options would do just that. But here she is, letting go of her home to free me of my father’s games.
I stand and pull her up, resting my chin on the top of her head. “I love you, Nan.”
“I love you more. Memories may fade, but your love for Lake Anita will never die.”
There’s one specific memory that I never want to lose. Mallory’s first time at the lake plays clearly in my mind. There was so much uncertainty in her eyes as we stood on the dock hand in hand, but she allowed me to take the plunge with her. That day, she gave me a piece of her I never thought I’d have.
Her trust.
Three quick knocks pull us apart as the door slowly creaks open, and I return the confused look Nan gives me. She isn’t expecting any visitors today. Auburn waves and the massive diamond ring tell me exactly who is walking into Nan’s room, but I can’t believe it.
“Mom?”
When she looks up, she doesn’t seem surprised to see me. Actually, she looks relieved, shifting the large gift basket in her arms. “I was headed to Clear Lake to speak with you and saw your truck in the parking lot.”
Ellen walks over to Nan and hands over the basket. It’s similar to the ones Nan has been receiving once a month since moving into Eberly Assisted Living, filled with her favorite snacks and other goodies. “I wanted to deliver this in person today. I’m sorry for leaving them on your doorstep for so long, Sandy.”
After pressing a quick kiss to Nan’s cheek, she looks at me. “Can we talk, Kenneth?”
Nan stands before I can say no, heading for the door. “Thank you, Ellen. I always knew it was you leaving these for me. You’ve always indulged my love of sour candies. I’m going to see Titus, so I’ll be back.” She throws me a glare that says “be nice” and closes the door behind her.
I’ve never really understood my mother, and this moment compounds my confusion. The same woman who sits idly by and allows my father to run rampant in his children’s lives also sends her mother-in-law monthly gifts?
We take a seat on the couch, keeping a respectable distance between us like she always has.
Always there, but never close.
“Your father—” she starts, and I hold my hand up. Every excuse she has made for him over the years started like this, and I’m over it.
“No. I’m not going to sit here while you continue to make excuses for him and tell me how I’m being a terrible son by wanting to get out.”
“Kenneth—”
