Finding Bluefield (26 page)

What am I looking for, Nicky thought. This is not my home anymore. If I go inside, I’ll only see these people’s life and then that is how I’ll remember the farm. Was I expecting to find Carol-Ann here? Some sparked memory? Some revelation? Is this my way of getting her back? Or back at her?

As a young girl, Nicky always had one of her mother’s things with her. She held them to her nose, squeezed and rubbed them with her hands, put them under her pillow, carried them in her pockets. Later, as she grew older, she’d stand by a window in her house and think, this is what my Mom saw. Nicky first took to cooking to try to feel like her mother. She used her mother’s pots, pans, utensils and tried to feel her mother in them. Her mother had cured the cast-iron pans, had rubbed oil in them and heated them. The pans lasted longer than her mother who was consumed by unrestrained cancer cells before Nicky turned two.

Carol-Ann looked a lot like their mother, while Nicky had more of their father’s features. Maybe that was why Carol-Ann took the role of big sister so seriously. It took Nicky a lot of years to realize that losing their mother probably was harder on Carol-Ann because Carol-Ann knew her, remembered her, had witnessed the decline. Her loss was real because she had something to lose.

“There’s nothing here,” Nicky said out loud. She turned on the engine, turned the car around, and headed back to town.

Bluefield was different and the same. She was different and the same. What had she expected? That everyone would be waiting for her? She lost her mother, father, sister, home, land, and community. Leroy came back, and found what? In the end, she thought, it’s not what you do or where you live, it’s who you choose to do life with. What Nicky did, she did with Barbara and Paul, and for that, she had no regrets. For that, she had only gratitude.

Nicky had dinner at the diner and met the rest of Leroy’s family. They exchanged Leroy stories. Seeing that she was exhausted, Charlene packed a cooler with food and paper goods for Nicky to take back to the hotel for Paul and Barbara. Ribs, slaw and sauce, fried chicken, green onions, corn fritters, corn bread, bread pudding, candied yams, sweet potato pie, baked beans in molasses, scones, and blackberry pie. The essentials.

Her motel phone flashed and she listened to her message: Hello from Delaware. Nicky set the small table in her room, undressed, showered, and got dressed again. She lay on the bed, flipped through the channels on the television, turned the pages of some magazines, and fell asleep while her family made its way south.

1982

Hatless and with both hands shoved deep into the pockets of her black leather jacket, Barbara leaned against the brick building that housed the combination bus station and doughnut shop. Her sunglasses rested on her head, pushing back her hair and showing off those turquoise earrings Nicky had bought for her on their trip to Four Corners last summer. Barbara became increasingly drawn to southwest landscape and its expanse, which gave her a feeling of letting go. It was as if she had been cured of a claustrophobia she didn’t know she had. A claustrophobia caused by the denseness of all those houses, trees, valleys, and mountains that seemed to reflect everything back, to hold everything in.

On the way to the Albuquerque airport to catch their flight home, Barbara thought about what was keeping her in Medford. What and who she would miss.

“I want to retire here,” she told Nicky. “Or at least visit again.”

“It’s magical,” Nicky said.

“Paul’s going off to college. Maybe it’s time for us to go off somewhere too.”

“I love Medford,” Nicky said.

“I’m ready for something new, something different,” Barbara said. “I don’t want to do the same thing till I die.”

“We have a great community, we have great neighbors, great friends. And we just moved there.”

“It’s been eighteen years.”

“I’m just getting over leaving Virginia. I can’t go through that again, not yet.”

“Really? Eighteen years.”

“Is this some sort of mid-life crisis?”

“I’m way past the middle.”

“But you know everyone in town and everyone knows you. Do you really want to have to start all over?”

“The only reason people know me is because I’ve treated them or their kids,” Barbara said. “They’re not my friends. Our real friends are your friends and I just tag along.”

“Paul still needs a home. What if he wants to come back to Medford after he graduates?”

“This isn’t about Paul. It’s about us. And there’s no way he stays in Medford. It was a great place for him to grow up, but there’s nothing for him there.”

Barbara looked at her watch and adjusted her sunglasses. The bus was due to arrive at any moment. She and Nicky made plans to return to the west that winter for a longer stay. She wondered how this trip to Virginia would affect that plan.

“Hey, Dr. Phillips,” a man called.

Barbara straightened up. “Hello, Jim. How are you?”

“Fine. Fine. Just getting some doughnuts for the guys at work,” he said, showing Barbara the bag.

“How are the kids?”

“Katie’ll be getting married after Christmas and James, Jr. is expecting his second. Seems like I was just bringing them in to have you check their ears. Sure goes by fast.”

“You say hi from me,” Barbara said. Few people asked Barbara about Paul.

“Nice to see you, Doc,” Jim said.

Barbara heard the bus before she saw it. She watched it make the wide turn in front of the station, its air brakes hissing as it came to a stop. The driver opened the door and came out while Barbara watched Paul walk down the aisle. She couldn’t help thinking what a good-looking young man he had become.

“What did Mom say?” Paul asked as he gave Barbara a kiss.

“How was the ride?” she asked, noticing that the young woman following Paul out of the bus was now standing behind him. “You brought your friend?”

“Yes,” Paul said.

“Where are your manners? Introduce us.”

“Barbara, this is Rebecca. Rebecca, this is Barbara.”

“Hello, Rebecca,” Barbara said. “You were with Paul this morning when I called?”

“Yes, Dr. Phillips, I was there. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Call me Barbara,” she said, extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Barbara,” Paul interrupted, “what did Mom say?”

“She’s spending the day in Bluefield.” Barbara stopped in front of her black Jeep and handed Paul the keys. “You drive.”

“You got a new Jeep?” Paul said. “Cool. You didn’t tell me.”

Barbara turned to Rebecca. “Paul told you what’s going on?”

“Sort of.”

“That sounds right. He’s just like his mom that way,” Barbara said. “I’m guessing, at least hoping, he did tell you that we’re on our way to Virginia to meet his mom and that we might be gone for several days.”

“That much I know,” Rebecca said.

“Okay,” Barbara said. “And you are welcome to join us. You’d be my guest of course. In fact, I hope that you came along because you intend to come along.”

“I’d love to join you.”

“Wonderful,” Barbara said. “Let’s go.”

Barbara went over the route with Paul and then settled in for the ride. As Paul made his way through town toward the interstate, Barbara pointed out some of the local landmarks of Paul’s youth. As they left the landmarks and approached the on-ramp, Barbara turned to face Rebecca in the backseat. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you and Paul meet?”

“We met at a planning meeting for next summer’s twentieth anniversary of the King march on Washington.”

“Really?”

“We spent a lot of time together working and then I missed a meeting and Paul called me to find out if I was okay. It was very sweet. I told him I had a wicked cold, and he brought me over some soup.”

“Soup?” Barbara said.

“I got it at the cafeteria,” Paul said.

“It was very romantic,” Rebecca said.

“Very nice,” Barbara said to Paul.

“It was so sweet,” Rebecca said, leaning forward and putting her arm around Paul.

“Thank you,” he said.

“He’s actually a good cook,” Barbara said. “His mother made sure of it. She’s pretty good herself.”

“I do know that he’s a good cook,” Rebecca said. “I can’t cook at all.”

“It’s true,” Paul said.

As they passed through Pennsylvania, Barbara was thinking how they were following the same route that Nicky had taken. It was like they were on her trail. When Paul pulled the car into a rest area, Barbara followed Rebecca into the women’s room.

“You know, Rebecca, when I met Nicky, she was cooking at the Bluefield Diner,” Barbara said. “She had quite a following. Kind of a local celebrity. We’ll take you there.”

Rebecca looked as if she were about to speak. But she just looked at Barbara.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m a bit puzzled. You said you met Nicky?” Rebecca said. “I thought you two were related.”

Barbara didn’t answer right away. “Let’s finish this in the car.”

They used the rest rooms, picked up snacks and coffee, and returned to the car. Barbara decided to drive for a while. She told Rebecca to sit in front with her.

“What did you two talk about?” Paul said when he was delegated to the backseat.

“Exactly what has Paul told you about Nicky and me?”

“Do I get to be part of this conversation?” Paul said.

“You want to answer?” Barbara said.

“That’s okay. I’ll just listen.”

“Well, he said you’re a doctor and his mom gets involved in a lot of causes,” Rebecca said. “And he calls you Aunt Barbara. That’s it. He’s either very private or very secretive. We don’t have secrets in my family. Not real ones. I mean, we try, but we’re lousy at it. No one can keep a secret. If you don’t want to tell someone in the family something directly, you just tell someone else and tell them it’s a secret and you can be sure that they will find out. I think it’s healthy.”

“So Paul told you I’m his aunt?”

“I never told her that,” Paul said, “I just call you that. What she thinks is her business.”

“See what I have to put up with?” Rebecca said. “But he’s so cute.”

“Don’t forget that,” Paul said, leaning back in his seat.

“Well,” Barbara said, “I’m Paul’s mom,”

“Then who is Nicky?” Rebecca said.

“She’s also his mom.”

“Then you’re not really his aunt?” Rebecca said.

“No.”

“So you and Nicky are lesbians?”

“Yes.”

Rebecca laughed. “And that’s why Paul didn’t want me to meet you and Nicky,” she said.

“Is that true, Paul?” Barbara said.

“No. We just met,” Paul said. “So it wasn’t that I thought it’s too early to meet the lesbians, but I did think that it was too early to meet the family.”

“All the time I thought Paul was ashamed of me,” Rebecca said. “Or that maybe he was protecting me because his mom didn’t like Jews or who knows what, and all along it’s not me it’s him.”

“Here we go,” Paul said to no one in particular.

“This is great. It’s not me.” Rebecca turned to face Paul in the backseat.

“Remember, you said I was cute.”

“Did you know I almost got a nose job when I was fourteen,” she said.

“No, I did not,” Paul said. “See, there are a lot of things we haven’t told each other yet. That’s what I was saying.”

“Yeah, okay. Anyway, I was fourteen.”

“Why were you going to do it?” Paul said.

“I wanted the nose that drove the boys wild, made teachers notice you, got good service at restaurants, was offered the good job. I wanted the nose that America was after.”

“What stopped you?” Paul said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your nose. I love your nose.”

“What did your parents say?” Barbara asked.

“They were okay either way. Everyone in the neighborhood was having it done.”

“But you decided not to?” Barbara said.

“I almost did it. I don’t know what happened. I was looking at pictures of noses. Perfect noses. And I realized that they didn’t go with my face. It took me a while, but I like my nose now,” Rebecca said. “I’m okay with the way I look. I no longer think my ears are too small, my lips too big. I don’t mind that my hair measures humidity,” Rebecca said. “Well, the hair thing, that’s not true. I hate that.”

“I know that this is one of your riddles and I’m not getting it,” Paul said. “I need a clue.”

“Things are never as bad as you imagine they will be. They never are.”

“Never?” Paul said.

“Almost never.”

“Which one of us were you afraid of?” Barbara asked Paul.

“Look, I never told her anything that wasn’t true,” Paul said. “I just didn’t get to some stories. I mean we just met. We weren’t really up to exchanging family genealogy.”

“When did I become genealogy?” Barbara said.