"What the hell is tapioca?" Burt asked as he and Carol stood in line getting lunch. She shrugged and plopped another jello square onto her tray.
"I don't know, some kind of pudding I'd guess," Carol said. "Everyone assumes old people eat the grossest shit. Tapioca, oatmeal, liver and onions...don't they realize that our palette hasn't changed just because we've aged? I want cheeseburgers god dammit," Burt said, making her chuckle as they carried their trays back to the table, finding Larry already seated and eating an enormous burrito; Burt looked at him agog, and asked, "Where did you get that?" "From a little vendor outside," Larry said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, "You should try leaving the home once in a while. It's amazing what things you can find two feet from the door." "I'm gonna kill you and eat your lunch," Burt mumbled. "Hey," Carol said, interrupting the bickering as she shifted her food around her plate, "...what do you guys think about, like, a senior prom?" "What about it?" Larry asked. "Like, you remember going to prom, right? We all presumably went to prom," Carol said. "I like that you said presumably," Burt said. "Well, who knows, you could've been a loser who stayed at home and danced with his mom, I just didn't wanna make any assumptions," Carol replied, smirking, "but do you guys think that would be a good idea? Sort of a little party to celebrate the fact that we're seniors? Seniority has a lot of perks to it, aside from being closer to death than anyone else." "I think it's a cool idea," Larry said, "We could get suits and dresses and do decorations and maybe order catering." "Exactly. And for people with alzheimers, it'd be nice, it'd be like reliving the days they think they're living already," Carol said, "I know they say you shouldn't wallow in your memories but sometimes those are what get you through the day. Memory is important." "I'll try to remember that," Burt muttered, making them all laugh. *** Boris parked the gremlin and got out. He stuffed the keys in his coat pocket and started walking through the parking lot, unsurprised when he heard the sound of heels rushing up behind him, and found Lorraine walking beside him now. "Boy, you drive in style," she said, smirking. "I do what I can to impress the ladies, yes," Boris said, smiling a little himself, "Did Ellen tell you anything at all about why she wanted us to come to her therapy session?" "No," Lorraine said, hoisting her purse strap further up her shoulder, "No, all she said was that it was important, and that was enough for me. I no longer require explanation, I'm just trying to be there for her whenever she asks." "Yeah, exactly," Boris said, kicking small pebbles in front of him as they approached the building. He reached out and opened the door, letting Lorraine enter first. She thanked him, and he followed her inside. They checked in at the counter, then were told to take a seat, and they would be let into the office in a few minutes, so Boris and Lorraine seated themselves. Lorraine picked up a well worn looking magazine from the table by her chair and started flipping through it. "I used to think it was important to keep a nice household," she said, looking at the various photos in this housekeeping magazine, sighing, "but really, the household itself doesn't matter. The people inside it matter. You can keep the most disheveled home, but so long as the people inside it are tight knit, the appearance doesn't matter." "Deep," Boris said, "You should write a philosophy book." Lorraine looked at him, somewhat smiling at his statement, but also wishing that, for once, he'd be serious. "...we didn't try hard enough," she finally said, flopping the magazine down in her lap, "we thought all you had to do was get married, remember? That was it. Get married, have a kid, everything else would fall into place. It'd just work. That isn't how it works." "No it is not," Boris said, laughing a little, "but...I don't think it's fair to say we didn't try hard enough. We tried plenty. It just...didn't work. Sometimes things just don't work. Sometimes the people you wanna have in your life are...are not meant to be there that long." He looked away and ran a hand through his thin hair, making Lorraine reach out and hold his hand. "You really miss her," she said quietly. "Every goddamned day. I've never missed a woman I didn't romantically love more than her," he said. "Losing a friendship, especially a really good friendship, can be just as brutal as losing as a lover," Lorraine said, "I'm sorry that happened to you, Boris, she seemed like a good friend to you." The door opened and a woman was standing there. She smiled and waved at the couple, insinuating they could follow her, which they did. They got out of their chairs and headed through the door, then followed the woman down the hall towards an office. Once inside they found Ellen sitting there, and she smiled weakly at them as they entered. Boris immediately got an awful feeling in his gut. "Hi sweetheart," Lorraine said, hugging Ellen, who hugged her back. "Hi mom, hi dad," she said, and Boris smiled at her and hugged her lightly after Lorraine was done. The two took their seats again and looked from Ellen to the therapist, who just scrawled something on a piece of paper on a clipboard and then looked back up at everyone else. "So," she said, "I'm Dr. Krowder, it's nice to meet you. I'm very glad you were able to meet with us today," she said, "I've been working with Ellen for a few months now, and we have made...uh...decent progress, I guess, is a way to put it. Nothing outstanding but also more than nothing at all. She's been great to work with, but she really wanted you guys to come in this week because she remembered something and she wanted to bring it up to you both." Lorraine and Boris exchanged a seemingly nervous glance before looking back at Ellen, who was now looking at her hands in her lap. "Okay," Boris said, "Well, whatever we can do to help her, obviously." "Why did you and mom split up? I remember the fight, the night you left," Ellen said, still not looking at them, "and, uh..." she paused and pushed some hair back behind her ear, sniffling, "and I just never really understood why it happened. But I guess piecing it together now, it makes sense, if we had an accident and you felt responsible and whatnot..." "That was a big part of it," Boris said. "but why did you say what you said?" Ellen asked, causing Boris and Lorraine to, once again, exchange a glance before Boris furrowed his brow. "What...what did I say?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. "You said you never wanted a family to begin with, that mom is the one who wanted this, and that you knew you wouldn't be good at being a father," Ellen said, finally looking up at her father. "...when your mother and I met, I was trying desperately to be a writer," Boris said, "I was taking any job I could, doing copy, whatever, but...but in my spare time I was working mostly on my poetry. She and I met at a small poetry group at a local bookstore, and she was immediately smitten." "It's true, I can't deny it," Lorraine said, chuckling nervously. "and likewise," Boris continued, clearing his throat and cupping his hands, "uh, I thought she was beautiful and very very intelligent, and so we immediately started dating. We just...I guess, we assumed that's what you did when you got serious. You got married, you had kids, whatever. It wasn't...it wasn't so much that I didn't..." Boris scratched his head. "How do I explain this," he muttered, "uh...I wasn't against having you. Does that make sense? After we got married, after you were born, yeah, I started to realize that that wasn't the life I wanted and we had both been kind of pressured socially into doing that, and while I may have regretted giving into that pressure instead of following my original plan...I never once regretted you." "I believe that," Ellen said softly, "but I...I feel like the accident, what happened to me specifically, is what caused you two to finally split." "No, look, we were not doing well already by that point," Boris said, "and the accident itself may have triggered it ultimately, but you weren't the reason. I was at fault. I was always at fault. I could've walked away at any point before that, and I chose not to because that's something you didn't do back then. You didn't break up your family. It made you less of a man, whatever the hell that means. So I stuck around until I literally felt so guilty for sticking around that I couldn't anymore. I felt like maybe if I'd left before that, the accident wouldn't have happened, and if it hadn't had happened, you wouldn't have needed the operation and then you wouldn't have been in a coma and we wouldn't even be here right now and it's ALL my fault." Lorraine looked at Boris and smiled. She'd truly see the growth he'd made in the last few years, and she was once again finally recognizing the man she'd once loved so deeply. "I just remembered the fight the other night, and it...it made me feel bad because I felt like I was the reason you guys were unhappy. Like I was why you were stuck," Ellen said. "Sweetheart," Boris said, "you were never the reason for anything bad, okay? If anything, even if this isn't what we wanted originally, we've never regret having you. You've been the only good outcome of our life together. That's never gonna change." Ellen smiled and wiped her eyes on her sweater sleeve, making Boris smile. "...I love you guys," Ellen said, surprising them both; she continued, "I didn't...I don't remember everything, and what I do remember I don't remember well, but I'm glad to have parents who love me so much. I love you mom and dad." "We love you too," Lorraine said, making Boris nod. For the first time in a long long time, Boris felt like perhaps memories weren't such a bad thing after all. *** "You sure you don't want a drink?" Lorraine asked, Boris now sitting in the living room back at her house, the house that had once been their house; she strolled back into the room and handed him a glass, but he waved it off. "Naw, I gotta drive home still," Boris said as she sat down in a chair near the couch and watched him, casually sipping her drink. After a moment he cleared his throat and added, "Maybe we weren't such bad parents after all." "You've changed," Lorraine said, "in a good way. You seem more at ease. You don't seem so tense. You seem...different. I don't know how to put it. Today in that office you were so open and honest and emotional and it was...it was something I hadn't seen in you in a long time. I remember when you took me to a quiet lake for a picnic, and you read me a poem you wrote for me, and I just thought to myself what a good man you were and how lucky I was to find you and claim you as my own. That's how I'm feeling lately. Seeing that man again." "I missed that guy," Boris said, making them both chuckle as he added, "I started writing poetry again." "Really?" Lorraine asked, actually surprised. "Yeah, I...I guess I just wanted to try my hand at it and see if I still could do it," Boris said, "You expect your skills to atrophy over time but, surprise surprise, I wasn't terrible, hah. Don't think I could do it professionally anymore though. Think that time has passed." "Sunset gold on silver blue, sentiments old but feelings new, green to red and red to brown, all this beauty when you're around; the colors and the seasons change, but nothing leaves me feeling strange, because the winter brings something fresh to see, the best part of you is how you feel for me." Boris looked at Lorraine, who smiled weakly and stirred her drink. "You still remember parts of it by heart," Boris said, "Impressive." "It's not impressive," Lorraine said, "that's what love does to you. It makes you remember. Memory is, good or bad, all we have in the end. I choose to make it good." Boris smiled and said, "I think I will have that drink after all. I can stay a while." *** Carol was sitting by Larry's garden, sunning herself on the chaise lounge; sunhat pulled over her face, sunglasses covering her eyes. She didn't even hear Boris walk up beside her and seat himself on a footstool beside her. He eventually cleared his throat and she pulled the hat up and pulled her sunglasses down, turning her head and smiling at him. "Hey," she said, "Where you been?" "Had a doctors appointment," Boris said, "Anything going on around here?" "I'm throwing a senior prom," Carol said, "Bring us all back to our youth for just one evening. You wanna come?" "Are you asking me to be your date?" Boris asked and Carol cackled. "Right! Like I'd be caught dead going with you," she said, making him laugh, then added, "You can bring a date if you want. I know I will. Hey, do you know what tapioca is?" "You mean besides disgusting?" Boris asked, shrugging, "No clue, why?" "I'm thinking of serving it at the prom, if only just to piss off Burt," Carol said. "Wow, petty." "You gotta find ways to entertain yourself at this age," Carol said. *** That night, Boris brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. As he passed down the hallway, he heard Chrissy still awake. He opened her bedroom door slowly and peeked inside, to find her curled up on her bed under the blankets, crying. Boris entered the room and sat down on the bed. "Hey, you okay?" he asked. "...the kids at school keep making fun of me cause I don't have a family," Chrissy said, "but I do have family, it's just not the same kind of family they have. Why can't they understand that?" "Kids are stupid, they got tiny brains," Boris said, then ruffled Chrissy's hair, "Except this one. This kid's got a big brain, and frankly I think science is going to have to intervene and explain how she got this way before it gets too out of hand and she overpowers us all." Chrissy laughed and rolled onto her bed, looking at Boris. "Did you have a good family growing up?" she asked and Boris's entire face changed. He exhaled through his nose and looked around the room. Finally, after a few minutes, he looked back at her. "When I was a kid, family was an obligation," he said, "you stuck with them through thick and thin, even if you hated one another, because it's what was expected of you, and to do anything different was damn near blasphemy. It's not like that now, and that's a good thing, hell it's a GREAT thing, because a lot of times birth is all based around circumstances, you know? You have no control over being born, or who you're born to, and that isn't fair, and now people are taking their lives into their hands and saying, 'ya know what, you're not good for me, and I deserve better' and that's awesome." Chrissy watched him as he paused and scratched at his chin. "No, I didn't have a good family growing up. They weren't abusive or anything, but they were parents because they were obligated to be, not because they wanted to be. They had a child because they were expected to, not because they loved one another enough to create another person. I think your parents love you. I just think they don't love eachother, and often times the child gets caught in the middle. But hey, lucky you, you got a 2nd home! Most kids don't have that. So really, when the shit hits the fan at home, and those kids have nowhere to be, think how lucky you are and who'll be laughing then." Chrissy smiled and nodded as Boris leaned in and kissed her on the nose. "Sleep good kitten," he said, "Have sweet dreams." As he exited the room and stood in the hallway, he thought of how utterly lucky he was, in fact, to have a 2nd chance himself. Not just by having the chance to raise Chrissy in some way, but to also rebuild his relationship with his own daughter. Boris headed to his bedroom and shut the door, then sat down on the bed and looked at the drawer of his bedside table. He pulled it open and pulled out a small old leather brown photo album, opening it and turning to a particular page which showed him as a child and his parents. He sighed and shook his head, then put it back into the drawer, laid down and shut the lamp off. Not every memory is a pleasant one. But the cool thing about memory, Boris was coming to acknowledge, was that you were always able to make new better ones.
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Golden Years follows the exploits of a bunch of old people in a retirement home as they try to have fun, relax or come to terms with the soon to be end of their lives. Archives
April 2024
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