“I’m not dressed to go out to lunch. I look just awful.”
“What are you talking about? You look great. You always look great.”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” she said, shooing the compliment away with her hand. “My face looks like fifty miles of bad road. Well”—she shrugged—“if you’re set on going out…. But at least let me go fix myself up a little first. I’m not going anywhere without lipstick and earrings.”
A new restaurant had opened near the college. Mom said she’d heard it was good, so that’s where we went. After a little resistance, she let me drive. I ordered a bowl of butternut apple soup and a green salad. Mom got the Southwestern chicken salad.
“What’s this?” she asked suspiciously, poking at a white sliver of vegetable with her fork.
“Jicama. It’s from Mexico—tastes kind of like a potato, but sweeter. Try it.”
She took a tentative nibble. “Mmm. It’s good. Crunchy.”
I tasted my soup, which was delicious, and made a mental note to ask the waitress for the recipe. Some men want a present when their girlfriend goes on a trip, but Charlie is just as happy with a new soup recipe.
“It’s so nice to see you, Mom. I wish you lived closer so we could get together more often. You know, now that you’re living alone, the house must be an awful—”
Mom put down her salad fork. “Evelyn, don’t say another word. I knew you’d come out here with ulterior motives. But you listen to me, young lady, and listen well. I was born in Wisconsin and I will die in Wisconsin! I am not moving and that is all there is to it!”
I held up my hands, warding off this verbal attack. “Okay! All right. I’m just concerned about you. I hate being so far away from you.”
“Well, who says you have to be? If somebody has to move, then why not you? Go right ahead. But I’m not pulling up stakes and leaving behind eighty years of memories just because you’re a worry-wart. Honestly, I don’t know what you’ve got to be concerned about. I’m perfectly fine.”
The time had come to lay my cards on the table.
“Mom, that’s not entirely true and you know it. You’re nervous about driving. Admit it,” I said, stopping her before she could contradict me. “Driving is getting to be hard for you. So hard that you don’t even want to go to the store anymore. Other than the incredible meal you made for me last night, the ingredients of which I’m pretty sure you asked a neighbor to pick up for you…”
She didn’t say anything to this, just pressed her lips into a thin line of irritation.
“…I bet you haven’t been to the market in weeks, have you? There is hardly any food in the house. Everybody at the store was so surprised to see you.”
“That’s ridiculous. I get to the store as often as I ever have. I can’t help it if people are too busy to notice me when I am there. Who notices an old lady, anyway? The only reason they were so friendly this morning is because you were with me.”
I decided to let this pass. I love my mother. I didn’t want to accuse her of lying to me, even though I knew she was.
“But you have lost weight, Mom. Those pants are hanging off you.”
“Oh, they are not,” she said dismissively. “Yes, I’ve lost a little weight. Big deal. Two or three pounds, but what’s wrong with that? I just started getting some exercise is all. The doctor’s been after me to do more walking, so I finally listened to him. Last month I started taking a walk every afternoon before supper—three times around the block.”
She started a walking regimen? In Wisconsin? In January, when the average temperature is sixteen degrees and the snow is three feet deep? I didn’t think so.
“What about your fall? You could have really gotten hurt, broken a hip or something.”
“For goodness’ sakes, Evelyn, it was just a fall! I slipped on the ice. Could have happened to anyone. Haven’t you ever fallen on ice?”
“Sure, of course—”
“Well,
“What are you talking about? You look great. You always look great.”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” she said, shooing the compliment away with her hand. “My face looks like fifty miles of bad road. Well”—she shrugged—“if you’re set on going out…. But at least let me go fix myself up a little first. I’m not going anywhere without lipstick and earrings.”
A new restaurant had opened near the college. Mom said she’d heard it was good, so that’s where we went. After a little resistance, she let me drive. I ordered a bowl of butternut apple soup and a green salad. Mom got the Southwestern chicken salad.
“What’s this?” she asked suspiciously, poking at a white sliver of vegetable with her fork.
“Jicama. It’s from Mexico—tastes kind of like a potato, but sweeter. Try it.”
She took a tentative nibble. “Mmm. It’s good. Crunchy.”
I tasted my soup, which was delicious, and made a mental note to ask the waitress for the recipe. Some men want a present when their girlfriend goes on a trip, but Charlie is just as happy with a new soup recipe.
“It’s so nice to see you, Mom. I wish you lived closer so we could get together more often. You know, now that you’re living alone, the house must be an awful—”
Mom put down her salad fork. “Evelyn, don’t say another word. I knew you’d come out here with ulterior motives. But you listen to me, young lady, and listen well. I was born in Wisconsin and I will die in Wisconsin! I am not moving and that is all there is to it!”
I held up my hands, warding off this verbal attack. “Okay! All right. I’m just concerned about you. I hate being so far away from you.”
“Well, who says you have to be? If somebody has to move, then why not you? Go right ahead. But I’m not pulling up stakes and leaving behind eighty years of memories just because you’re a worry-wart. Honestly, I don’t know what you’ve got to be concerned about. I’m perfectly fine.”
The time had come to lay my cards on the table.
“Mom, that’s not entirely true and you know it. You’re nervous about driving. Admit it,” I said, stopping her before she could contradict me. “Driving is getting to be hard for you. So hard that you don’t even want to go to the store anymore. Other than the incredible meal you made for me last night, the ingredients of which I’m pretty sure you asked a neighbor to pick up for you…”
She didn’t say anything to this, just pressed her lips into a thin line of irritation.
“…I bet you haven’t been to the market in weeks, have you? There is hardly any food in the house. Everybody at the store was so surprised to see you.”
“That’s ridiculous. I get to the store as often as I ever have. I can’t help it if people are too busy to notice me when I am there. Who notices an old lady, anyway? The only reason they were so friendly this morning is because you were with me.”
I decided to let this pass. I love my mother. I didn’t want to accuse her of lying to me, even though I knew she was.
“But you have lost weight, Mom. Those pants are hanging off you.”
“Oh, they are not,” she said dismissively. “Yes, I’ve lost a little weight. Big deal. Two or three pounds, but what’s wrong with that? I just started getting some exercise is all. The doctor’s been after me to do more walking, so I finally listened to him. Last month I started taking a walk every afternoon before supper—three times around the block.”
She started a walking regimen? In Wisconsin? In January, when the average temperature is sixteen degrees and the snow is three feet deep? I didn’t think so.
“What about your fall? You could have really gotten hurt, broken a hip or something.”
“For goodness’ sakes, Evelyn, it was just a fall! I slipped on the ice. Could have happened to anyone. Haven’t you ever fallen on ice?”
“Sure, of course—”
“Well,
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