The Face In The Mirror (19 page)

I returned to the living room with swollen eyes, but a new outlook on the
future. Our future.
“Well, this is much better. What’s with the big smile on your face?”
“If I tell, you’ll laugh,” I said.
“Try me, Renie,” he replied as I scooted close to him.
“My mom. I told you that sometimes I see her in mirrors. I saw her before
we left the hotel for our wedding. Sometimes I see her after we read something
special. Today it’s like she was telling me to ‘make your future make up for lost
time, recover all that you’ve missed’. I swear Mitchell, it’s not me. I see her!
What a gift, what a blessing to find these books.”
“I agree, Renie. They’ve been an epiphany for us to move forward.”

“Mitchell,” I said, later as we lay in bed. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Believing in me, believing in us,” I said, and curled into his arms.

We were on a roll. The master bedroom was finally ours. I brought things
from my bedroom at Granny’s that had special meaning and added pictures of
Mitchell and I through the years. It was
our
room, and I was excited to move on
to do the same in the rest of the condo.

Everything else was falling in place. Mitchell had the guys from work
helping move items from Granny’s and taking back some things that we were
swapping out. Ashley came to help me put things in place while the guys did
the moving.

“So, are you and Dave seeing each other?” I asked as I was throwing
together a pan of ziti to feed everyone.
“Kinda, sorta, yes, but not really,” she laughed.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well, we’ve gone out, and I’d like to go out more, but he keeps so busy!”
she told me.
“He seems to enjoy your company,” I observed.
“I sure wish he’d enjoy it a little more!” she laughed.
“Be patient,” I said, a comment that I knew held no bearing when it came
to Ashley Cooper. “He has a new house and he’s trying to get settled.”
“Well, I could help…” she snickered.

After we’d moved everything in, and put it in place, we all gathered for
dinner. We enjoyed a meal filled with conversation, and I noticed Dave and
Ashley talk frequently.

“Is this gonna be one of those ‘grab and go’ meal options from your
business that I keep hearing about?” Dave asked.
“Maybe,” I replied. “I’m still planning…”
“Well put this right in the plan,” he interrupted. “This is some good stuff
right here!”

After everyone was gone, Mitchell and I kicked back with a glass of wine
and put our feet up.
“Welcome home,” he said.
“It is home. Everything’s perfect. I knew Granny’s dining room table
would be perfect, so many chairs and I loved everyone sitting around the table
talking.” I turned toward him. “Did you notice Dave and Ashley?”
“I did. I noticed you notice them, as well,” he smiled. “I know they’ve gone
out a couple times.”
“Ashley said that she wished they would go out more.”
“Did you inherit that match-maker gene from Granny?” he laughed.
“Oh, hell no! I would never set them up, but I can secretly hope for them.”
“Shall we read a bit before we go to bed?” he asked, and I nodded.

He picked up Volume Five from the table. We’d just finished Volume
Four, and while it seemed to be taking us a long time to read, we were enjoying
her words. We often stopped and shared our own thoughts over what she’d
written, sometimes thanking her for knowing that we needed to be together to
be whole. It was truly a shared experience, bringing us even closer to each
other. I loved every moment we read, and every discussion about my mom’s
words, her thoughts and memories, because it brought things back in focus for
us.

Volume Four was my college years and held many memories for Mitchell
and I to rehash - running the roads to see each other on weekends, learning
that we hated being apart and talking about the future, so I was anxious to get
into Volume Five to see my mom’s thoughts about our future, too. It began
with my graduation from college and how proud she was.

Mitchell and Alecia joined us to witness you walk across the stage to receive
your diploma; I can’t say who was more proud, Mitchell or me. And almost as
soon as you joined us after the ceremony, your father started about the master’s
program. All I could think was, ‘Give her a chance to breathe. Give her and
Mitchell a chance to experience each other for goodness sake’. You’d worked so
hard, and I remember him saying, ‘Open the next book while your brain is
still fresh. You aren’t done yet’.

But you stood firm, telling him you were taking a year off. You’d already
secured the job at Welsley and Ryan, and I was happy that you could stand up
to him. The books could wait just a bit longer.

“I didn’t want to go on for that master’s program at all, but he just kept
pushing.”
“I know,” he said, and I heard sadness in his voice. “One more section
before we go to bed.”
“Sure,” I said. I could tell he wanted to move forward. He picked up the
book and started reading.

Mitchell called me yesterday and asked if I could have lunch with him today.
In my heart I knew why. I wondered if he had already talked to your father,
but I didn’t care, he wanted to talk to me.

“Mrs. Ridgeway, I’m taking Renie for a fancy dinner tomorrow; it’s a
special occasion.”
“What is it, Mitchell?” I asked, but could barely contain my excitement.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me, to be my wife, to spend forever with me,”
he told me.
I felt tears - happy, joyous tears - roll down my cheeks. “This is wonderful
news! Have you talked to her father?”
“No ma’am, I wanted to tell you first.”
“Why is that, Mitchell?”
And with the biggest grin, he replied, “Seems you and I have a close
personal relationship that I don’t share with her father.”
“She loves you, Mitchell.”
“I adore everything about her. I’ll be a good husband to her.”
“I know that,” I told him.
“I wake up each day and can’t imagine a day without her,” he told me.
“Then you should ask her,” I said.

I was happy that you said ‘yes’. I’ve loved Mitchell from the first time I met
him. Such a gentleman, and so patient; seven years is a long time for two people
to hold off to start a life together.

I have to tell you how lucky you are to find such a man. I’m jealous, but let
me explain. I’ve seen Mitchell look at you – with love all over his face, and I
miss that in my own life. As I watch the two of you, I try hard to remember if
I ever saw that look on your father’s face, and I don’t think I ever have. He
has never been as attentive to me as Mitchell is to you. He listens when you
speak, like what you are saying is the most important thing he’s ever heard.
Sometimes it is, but even when you joke I see that look.

It has always been Derek in your father’s life and now he’s off at law school
to follow in ‘the big guy’s’ footsteps. I hate that. Be your own person, Renee.
With you about to begin a life with Mitchell, I thank God there is Midgey.
She fills my life with laughter and fun. Always so much my opposite, but she is
my soul sister, since the first day of our college years. I don’t know what I
would do if Midge Judith Carson Wynn Jones Turner wasn’t my friend.

It cracked me up that my mom wrote her name out with her maiden name
and all three of her married names.
“But she only refers to one of them by the number, she never called him
by the name ‘Jones’,” Mitchell remembered. “He’s always ‘#2’.”
“Think about it, Mitchell.”
He looked on, pondering my words, and then chuckled. “I get it! He was a
shit!”
“Yes, he was!” I said, and we continued reading.

You know Midgey, though. She pulls no punches, beats around no bush.
Sometimes I have to rope her back in because she makes your father so angry.
She calls him out on anything she doesn’t agree with, and I have to remind her
that I live with the aftermath. Not that he would hurt me, that’s not what I’m
saying at all but he can give a cold shoulder like no one I’ve ever known. She
says what’s on her mind, and he hates it. It’s usually not without warrant, but
I try to keep my time with her ‘our time’ so she doesn’t rattle him.

Mitchell closed the book, marking the page to pick it up later.
“Mitchell, what does that sound like to you?”
“Are you sure you want my thoughts?”
“Of course I do.”
“No matter what?”
“Oh what the hell, Mitchell. Just tell me.”
“I think that Midge knows, or suspects, that your dad wasn’t faithful to

your mom all along.”
“This is clear back to 2001. Do you think he cheated on her all the way
back then?”
“I think, from what we’ve read, that he has all along,” he said.
I leaned back into the sofa. Mitchell’s speculation rattled me. I didn’t quite
know what to say. This was an idea that hadn’t ever really crossed my mind. I
rehashed my mom’s words. My thoughts were reeling.
After a while, I said, “Oh my. Why did I never see that? Why didn’t I see it
all this time we’ve been reading?”
“Because she never comes out and says so, and because he’s your dad, and
you never want to believe that your parent’s marriage isn’t perfect, or that the
flaws are bigger than they appear.”
Why did she stay?
I wondered.

Sunday morning, I woke early and wandered around. Seeing our lives
coming together warmed my heart. The papers from my business plan were
strewn all over the table. There were things that still needed to be put away, but
all I could think was that it was absolutely just lovely chaos.

I stepped into the bathroom at the end of the hall to grab the hand towels
from the day before to wash. I turned, and there she was, waiting for me in the
mirror. I wanted to reach out, to see if I could feel her, but I knew she wasn’t
really there. I felt her in a different way; I saw her beautiful face with a smile
and I knew that she was happy.

I heard Mitchell coming down the hall and stepped out of the bathroom
just as he reached where I was.
“Good morning, handsome man,” I said as he hugged me.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
“Thinking about a kitchen sink omelet. Come on, the coffee should be
ready by now.”

Mitchell loved the kitchen sink omelet – no two were ever alike. I would
grab whatever was in the fridge that might be good in an omelet, with no real
plan, and added cheese. We lived on omelets when we were first married. Eggs
were cheap and I loved making them and experimenting with ingredients.
Sometimes they were no more than glorified scrambled eggs, but I knew that
one day I would master the perfect omelet. Mitchell’s favorite was always when
there was leftover taco meat, but today it appeared it would be ham, Gouda,
and broccoli.

I felt him come up behind me as I was cutting chunks of cheese. Putting
his arms around me, he squeezed and kissed my neck, and then grabbed a
couple chunks of the cheese.

As we ate, he told me, “This will be a special-special at Granny’s!”
“I’m still not sure about the whole breakfast thing, Mitchell.”
“You will be,” he smiled, and shoved the last bite, happily in his mouth.

I loved that Renie was happy, and there was no question to me that she
was. She made breakfast for us and talked about what she wanted to do. After
we cleaned up the kitchen, she told me some things she needed help with -
hanging pictures, that kind of thing - and then she putzed around, still putting
things away, and I loved watching her.

I think I missed that the first time. We were both so busy that sometimes it
just felt like, ‘Oh, there’s a picture on the wall. Where’d that come from?’ I
loved combining our lives together, but mostly, I just loved watching her,
looking at the beautiful woman that Mona’s death had returned to me. I
thought about how we began again, the journals that Mona left her that were
helping her – us – realize what we had.

We spent the morning working on the business plan for Convenient
Cuisine. She had mine from when I’d done the proposal for Donovan’s to use
as a guide, as well as samples she’d pulled from the Internet. Her experience in
reviewing contracts assured that all i’s were dotted and t’s crossed. She asked if
I would read her mission statement. I read it out loud.

“Convenient Cuisine at Granny Ella’s is a convenience service providing
grab and go foods for busy families with little time to spend in the kitchen. We
provide fresh, healthy, quality alternatives for preparation in twenty minutes or
less.”

“May I?” I asked.
“Sure!”
I spent a few minutes and then read it back to her.
“Convenient Cuisine and Breakfast Café at Granny Ella’s provides only

quality fresh prepared ‘grab and go’ meals for busy families as a fast-food
alternative.”
“Even better!” she said, and then it hit her, “Breakfast Café?”
“But wait, there’s more!” I laughed and then continued in a tone like the
announcer in an infomercial. “Along with down-home, southern breakfast
options.”
“You just had to get that breakfast in there!”
“Renie, I just don’t think you can pass up that opportunity. If you find it
doesn’t work, then back out of it, but don’t pass up on the opportunity to try it.
It’s an opportunity that I think others will enjoy. I also think you need to call
that art gal, the one who bought the bedroom furniture, and start batting ideas
around with her and get some estimates. Gotta get the word out before it starts
or there won’t be anyone there when we open the doors.”
“Mitchell, I believe that is my favorite word.”
“Which one?” I asked.
“We!” she shouted.
“As in oui, ‘yes!’ or as in whee ‘what a ride!’ or we as in us?” I laughed.
“Whee! Oui! We!” she replied as she rose from her chair and dropped onto
my lap. “I love you.”
I felt the grin on my face; just looking at her made me smile. My reply was
a kiss – sweet and tender, and then another one more passionate. Nuzzling her
neck, I whispered in her ear, “As I told your mom all those years ago, I adore
everything about you.”