A Lake Carries Her

Zuzu Miller, like her mother before her, was a crier. They cried during Casablanca. They cried during Hallmark movies. They cried during particular stories on the Sunday Morning show. They cried when they sang “The Old Rugged Cross” on Good Friday. They even cried during certain commercials. Zuzu’s biggest love/ hate was the Olive Fingers commercial. A little orphan boy with olives for fingertips was passed over by every prospective set of parents who came to the orphanage- until the rainy night he looked out the window to see a car pull up, and an elegant young couple step out- both with olive fingers. Zuzu’s younger sister Sophie would come into the room to find Zuzu sobbing.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” she would say, rolling her eyes. Sophie was decidedly a non-crier.

Zuzu, awash, could only nod.

“It’s an OLIVE COMMERCIAL, for fudge’s sake. Get a freaking grip!” Swearing, at least among minors, was strictly prohibited in the Miller household.

Now it was Zuzu’s last weekend at home before leaving for college. Ever since she was tiny, she had wanted to fly away from her little town, as far as her wings would take her, and see the world. So far, she had never even set foot out of the state. And now that it was here, she was finding it was the most exquisite, bittersweet jumble of thrilling and terrifying imaginable. But she had not cried. In fact, she could not cry.

She had every reason to cry. She was going all the way across the country- from her tiny, upstate New York town, right on the shore of Lake Ontario, all the way to Arizona State University. It might well have been the University of the Moon. Of course, she’d had plenty of time to change her mind. Her entire junior and senior years of high school had been focused on ASU, Alma Mater of Jimmy Kimmel, David Spade and Scott Peterson. Suffice it to say, she had not picked ASU because of any of the alumni. When it came to Jimmy Kimmel, well, he may be uber liberal now, but she couldn’t forget The Man Show, and she was surprised the rest of America had. No, Zuzu was more of a Conan kind of girl, hands down, any day of the week.

“Darling,” her mother had said, on one of their moonlit drives, “I know you’ve always wanted to get away and see the world. And I think that’s amazing. You are a dandelion seed in the wind, you’re an adventurer, and you are going to go so far.”

“But?” Zuzu said, bare feet on the dash, enjoying this rare moment, just the two of them.

“But. You know you don’t have to go all the way to Arizona so soon. You could go to one of the community colleges for a couple years. You could even commute. You could save a ton of money…”

Zuzu rolled her eyes. “Mother.” Normally her mom was Mama, but Zu had a Martha Stewart-y way of calling her Mother when she was especially irritated. “Seriously. We’ve talked about this. I’m 18.”

“Barely.”

“And I’m ready to get away. I want to live in a dorm and eat dorm food and go to campus events and art exhibits and lectures and have a roommate. And I don’t want to stay here sharing a room with Sophie.” “Sophie” was said in a groan. They were only a year and a half apart, and Zuzu loved her more than anything-Sophie was the one she whispered secrets and “Sweet dreams!” to every night. But she was also the one who stole all Zuzu’s clothes and was a general nuisance and made fun of her for crying all the time.

Her mom patted her leg and sighed. “I know sweetie. I hear you.”

And now it was here- she had only two more days at home. Zuzu had to leave a week earlier than any of her friends because she and her mom were driving to Arizona (road trip!). Today was Saturday, the hottest day of the year so far. She had already said goodbye to most of her friends, but today her best friend, her heart of hearts, Ellie, was coming over so they could have one last day together. Zuzu was sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone, waiting, sweating, her antique aqua fan barely managing to stir the air. She had the volume low on her CD player, but she could just barely hear the opening guitar riff of “Cinnamon Girl.” She smiled, as she always did when this song came on. Her mother had told her that when the song debuted, the year her mom was eight, she had suddenly announced to her two older brothers that they should now address her as “Cinnamon Moonlight.” It was only much later that she had realized what a great stripper name it made, and why her brothers never stopped teasing her over it. Zuzu heard the doorbell ring and the door open. Ellie knew she could come right in. Zuzu got right up and ran downstairs.

With no warning, Ellie pulled her into a bear hug and promptly burst into tears.

Zuzu started laughing. “Don’t start that yet!”

Ellie laughed too, and wiped her eyes. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

Zuzu was always the sensible one. “You’re going to go to MCC and meet a ton of new friends and probably some super cute guys. And you’re going to study your butt off so you can get into the U of R in two years and become the world’s greatest nurse. Now, let’s go make ice cream sundaes. My mom got all the good toppings. It’s so flipping hot.”

“Sundaes, then pool time. I brought my bathing suit.”

“Or sundaes IN the pool.”

“YES.”

Neither one of them really cried after all, later, when it was time for Ellie to go. Zuzu wasn’t sure why. It hurt so much and her throat was so tight and she could hardly breathe when she thought about when they might next see each other. But no tears came. Maybe they were both trying to be strong for the other one. Maybe they were steeling their own nerves, cutting themselves off from what could have been an overemotional wreck of a scene. Their last hug was almost stiff. It was almost like they were strangers already.

Sunday. Her last day. Zuzu woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon- her favorite. Her mother hated making pancakes, so Zuzu knew this was special, just for her.

“And we’re going anywhere you like for lunch. And homemade mac and cheese for dinner, ok sweetie?”

“Thanks, Mom.” Her mother’s love language was food.

Her sister presented her with a scrapbook she’d obviously spent hours on. The front cover was an especially embarrassing photo of Zuzu, age seven, her two front teeth missing and a huge grin on her face. There were pictures of both of them, all through childhood, ending with Zuzu’s graduation party last month. “When are you coming home?” Sophie asked. Why were her eyes glistening like that? And why did her voice sound so strange?

“I haven’t even left yet.”

“I know, but you’re going to be so far. You’ll never be able to come home.”

This was, in fact, one of Zuzu’s only reservations about going to ASU. She knew she couldn’t afford to fly home. Pretty much ever. She had already had to make special arrangements to spend Christmas in the dorm. Maybe she would make a local friend she could spend the day with, at least. Maybe she could be a bell ringer for the Salvation Army. Did they have the Salvation Army in Arizona?  Maybe she would spend Christmas completely alone, eating bag lunches for two weeks on an empty campus.

“For sure I’ll be home at the end of May.”

Wailing ensued, followed by Sophie running to their room and slamming the door. Zuzu was flabbergasted at Sophie’s hysterics. This wasn’t like her, and it also wasn’t exactly new information.

When her dad asked where she’d like to go for lunch, Zuzu had to think for approximately 2.2 seconds.

“Chipotle.”

Her mom laughed. “We could go somewhere really nice if you want.”

Zuzu scrunched up her nose. “No, thanks. Chipotle is fine.”

After they had all finished their burrito bowls, her dad handed her a little box, and when Zuzu opened it, there was a glimmering silver bracelet inside. “Just a little going away present. We’re going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too, Dad,” she said. And she would. But why was everyone around her going to pieces, while she didn’t seem to be able to shed a tear over anything or anyone? She knew that when she and her mom finished their road trip, and got Zuzu’s room set up, and her mom drove away, it would probably all hit her. She would be alone. But now, she was just too exhilarated to feel sad about any of it.

That night, after dinner and more teary half smiles from her sister and mom, she decided she had to get away for a bit. She also had to say one more goodbye. She had already sold her car, so she asked her mom if she could borrow hers.

“Sure, sweetie, where’re you headed?”

“Down to the lake.”

Her mom nodded. Zuzu had always loved the lake. When her dad taught her to drive, he was constantly asking her “Which way is north?” When she shook her head, her mind blank, he would say, “Okay, well, which way is the lake?” And she could sense it. It was her true north. Tonight she drove down to the yacht club. They weren’t members or anything, but it was a good place to go skip stones and look at the moon on the water, and be alone, and think.       

She sat on the stone beach and hugged her knees. This, she would miss. The lake was so vast. It was the whole horizon. She thought about one of her favorite quotes, how once you lived by the lake, you would never want to live anywhere else. And then, so unexpectedly, it came. That excruciating tickle in her nose that meant she was about to cry. It turned into a sob, breathless, noiseless at first, then loud and ugly and wet. How could she leave this, her center? Her compass? The backdrop for all her best memories- learning to ski, swimming at the beach, walking down the pier eating drippy vanilla ice cream cones. How could she go and live in a place that was so…dry? At that she started laughing. She wiped her face on her sweatshirt sleeve and giggled and hiccupped and eventually stopped crying. And then she knew she was going to be ok. The lake would be waiting right here for her when she came back. And she decided, right then and there, that she would always, always come back.