Chasing Springtime

Spring was in the air, with trees budding and birds' nests bustling with life. Lucy often paused under trees to watch the little chicks chirping in their nests, marveling at the hard work of their parents. They had to protect their young from the elements – that’s a tough life! And they did it all to help to bring life back to the world after it had been frozen for several months. Lucy for one, was looking forward to it warming up.

“Lucy, come see here! They have your favorite, snow cones!”

They were at the annual Italian festival, surrounded by food stalls with smells that practically grabbed hold of Lucy’s nostrils and tempted her towards them. 

“Oh goodness, look at those! They’re huge! I don’t know if I should… it’s not the healthiest, Roger…”

“Oh, come on! You deserve it! Here, I’ll go get you the kid’s size. Then let’s sit down and listen to the band. I think there’s a new doo-wop group performing next.” Roger was already walking away, before he realized how Lucy’s heart had dropped after he said “kid’s size”. 

She glumly looked around for a table they could sit at to enjoy the music. Around her, the festival was buzzing with energy. Long lines of men and women waiting for sausage and pepper sandwiches on fresh bread. Teenagers doing “the Twist” right next to the stage. Young children running around the grass, excited to go on the rickety rides brought in from who knows where.

“Here ya go!” Roger said with a smile, as he shoved the snow cone in front of Lucy’s face like a microphone. Roger had been particularly worried about Lucy since her birthday. Nothing had changed, not really, but for some reason she had been so morose these past few weeks.

“Thank you, dear.” Lucy took the snow cone and gingerly took a bite with the small spoon that accompanied it. Roger observed her as she gracefully ate her snow cone. Lucy could make anything appear graceful. She had been graceful their whole marriage; even through all the trouble they’d been through. He admired her so much. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching his hand out, “dance with me.” Lucy blushed, and got up from her chair. She found a garbage can on the way, and freed her hand from the snow cone remnants to grab hold of Roger’s hand, a little too tight. He looked her in the eyes and smirked. Then they reached the stage, and joined the teenagers in doing the Twist. Lucy couldn’t contain herself; her head rolled back with laughter as she kept shaking her hips. 

Against the backdrop of the upbeat music, he suddenly blurted out, “You know Lucy, I can tell you’ve been down. But I have to say, I have faith. It’s going to happen. Sooner than you might think, too. I bet you’ll miss the days when you can relax with a snow cone, and dance with me, when we have a little tyke running around, needing to be watched.”

Lucy’s smile disappeared, and she froze colder than the snow cone she had just eaten. A long silence ensued as Roger realized he had said the wrong thing. Lucy looked around, shocked by the sudden dissonance between the music, the dancing, and herself. She turned and walked away, away from the stage, away from the crowd. Eventually she realized her body was taking her to their car. 

 She didn’t realize Roger had followed her until she was leaning against the Ford and saw his reflection behind her. She didn’t look up as she practically whispered, “No.”

“Look, I’m sorry dear. That was the wrong thing to sa–”

“No,” she cut him off, “No.”

“I’m sorry darling – ‘No’ what? Look, I know things have been hard –”

“No. There’s nothing we can do anymore. We’ve tried for so long. I should have a child by now. I’m sick and tired of feeling like the odd one out. The pitied one. The failure.” Lucy had turned around, back against the car. She was staring straight ahead of her at the ground, speaking calmly and softly.

“Lucy, you are not a failure! I love you, and we will have a family one day!”

“You don’t know that. Why hasn’t it happened already? What is wrong with me that it hasn’t happened already?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I love you! And you know what, if it were up to me, I’d say we don’t even need kids –” Lucy suddenly looked up, looked Roger straight in the eyes, and raised her voice,

“Who said it’s up to you?”

Roger paused before cautiously adding, “Then we’ll keep trying. I’ll try for you, forever. I want you to be happy.”

“I haven’t been happy for a long time,” Lucy spat out, too harshly she realized. “It’s just… I’m 35 now. Thirty-five, Roger. I don’t think I can just keep doing the same thing anymore.”

Silence hung in the air harshly, as both of them internalized what Lucy meant.

Roger broke the silence with a drawn out sigh. Then he calmly said “What does that mean? You can’t keep doing the same thing with me?”

“Y-you know h-how much I love you,” Lucy stuttered out, “but I need to try something else. With someone else.”

Silence, again. 

“You should be careful what you wish for.” Roger let out. He wasn’t looking her in the eyes. He was too afraid of what he would see in them, “We have something great here. You can’t just throw it away because of your… your obsession with children.

“I’m so good to you, Lucy. You’re going to lose that for what, a chance with someone else? You’re going to sacrifice the happiness you have now, real happiness, for a chance?”

“Yes. I’m willing to take that chance. I have to take that chance. I’d be willing to lose anything for the chance at everything.”

Roger was silent. They both stood there for a while, listening to the music in the distance that should have matched the sorrow they were both feeling. Eventually, Roger got the keys out of his pocket, unlocked the car, and slowly got in. Once Lucy did the same, they drove home in silence. Thinking all the way home about the future they once envisioned, which was now shattered by just a few words.

*           *           *

After the Italian festival, Lucy’s marriage declined rapidly. Nights were full of painful conversations. Mornings were often uncomfortably silent. When Roger finally understood Lucy was serious, they parted ways. Lucy felt a mix of relief and sorrow as she started her new life. A few months later, while shopping for groceries, she met Victor.

He had been purchasing ingredients for his mother’s baked ziti. He seemed like the kind of man who would take care of his family, and Lucy liked that about him. Even though she had to tell him that he was looking at cilantro instead of parsley… And that’s what piqued Victor’s interest. A woman who knew what was what, and wasn’t afraid to let even a stranger know. On their first date, Victor talked a lot. But not in an over-explainy kind of way, more of an ‘I need to get this right, but my head is too full’ kind of way. Lucy thought it was endearing. And it helped her feel a little less embarrassed when she blurted out “I can’t wait to have kids with you!”

Victor wasn’t intimidated at all. 

“I like kids,” he had replied. “They’re easy to impress.”

And though Lucy was worried by how fast everything moved between her and Victor, how sometimes, it felt like she was just checking things off on a list, it was all worth it. She was pregnant with her second child. 

“Lucy, where should I put this?” Victor asked. 

“Put it along the back wall, next to the sinks. That has all our towels in it,” Lucy responded. They were setting up a beauty parlor – Victor worked best when he could be his own boss.

“Luc, I don’t think it was very wise to do this during the summer,” Victor complained as he made his way to the back. He was well adept at complaining… but everyone has their flaws, and Lucy knew Victor’s heart was in the right place. He tried so hard sometimes, like hiring a nanny to help them out amongst this chaos. And Gabriela was so great – she was even teaching Susan some spanish. 

“Yes, I know. But once Frances gets here, we’ll have more helping hands, everything will fall into place faster than you know it,” she returned. Only to look up and notice the box of towels by the back door, which had just swung closed. 

Lucy took a seat in one of the styling chairs. She rubbed her stomach as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had aged so much; her stomach clenched as worry creeped in like stretch marks on her ever growing belly. She was worried about this pregnancy. She knew this would be her last one; she just wanted it to go well. 

Lucy heard a car drive up; she looked out the window to see Frances and her family.

“We’re heeeerrreee,” Frances sang, as she waltzed through the door, “Oh Lucy, the place is great! And look at you, so exhausted. So hard-working.” Lucy blushed. Frances always complimented people up the ass. She could have been a great actress, Lucy always thought. But she was also a great mom.

“So, where’s Victor?” Frances asked.

“Oh, he just stepped in the back for a moment. He just brought in all these boxes from the car.” Lucy slowly got up from the chair and went over to hug her family members. “Thank you for coming,” she let out. Frances sighed, and squeezed her sister tight. 

“All right boys,” she announced to her two sons, “Let’s get to work unpacking!” The boys broke into action, ripping open boxes and stacking the contents on the shelves against the walls. Shampoo, conditioner, hair spray, combs, towels, all coming out in droves, ready to defend the community against bad hair days. Eventually, Victor made it out of the back room.

“Well well well,” Frances sneered, “Look who’s finally joining us!”

Victor winced but quickly composed himself. “I was just checking on Susan and Gabriela”' he said, his tone a mix of affection and anxiety. “The phone's hooked up in the back for now.”

“Victor. Susan is two. How many words can she even use to describe her day?” Frances condescended. Victor winced again; it’s as if his body acted out his emotions automatically.

“You know… I just love hearing that little girl’s voice.” At this, Lucy felt a warmth. Victor really did love his daughter. His favorite thing to do with her was build things with her blocks before bath time – he was a construction manager for tiny towns, and Susan trusted him one hundred percent.

“Alright everyone, why don’t we focus on the task at hand? We can take a lunch break once everything’s unpacked!” Lucy said. And with that, everyone got back to work. Sure there were rough patches here and there, like they had twice the amount of shampoo compared to conditioner… but Lucy knew, if they could get through this rough patch, this uncomfortable beginning, they would have a thriving business in a few years. After all, she had a husband, a lovely daughter, and another child on the way. Her chance at everything was just within reach.

*           *           *

A dark red leaf swiveled to the sidewalk in front of Lucy as a crisp breeze blew her hair out of her face. She was walking home on aching feet after a grueling day at the salon. The salon had just celebrated its fifth year in business last month.

Her walks home were a tradition she established a few months ago to collect herself before the chaos of dinner, bath time, and tucking the girls into bed. Though, the new nanny Beth usually did all the prep work to make nights as easy as possible for Lucy. 

Lucy reached into her pocket and felt for the sobriety chip she always carried with her. One day at a time, she reminded herself. Today the reminder was particularly needed. A new client came in to book an appointment for her daughter’s quinceñera hairdo. Lucy couldn’t help but think of Victor and Gabriela. They were probably on some beach on the Gulf of Mexico right now. Don’t go there, Lucy scolded herself. One day at a time, she repeated. 

Not to mention, it was Roger’s birthday next week. She couldn’t help but remember; it’s like the date popped out and did a little dance every year she saw it on the calendar. She used to make him pineapple upside down cake for his birthday every year, his favorite. She always enjoyed seeing the pure joy on his face when she brought it to the kitchen table for him. 

Was it all worth it? She questioned herself. Stop it. Don’t think that. Susan and Linda are blessings. 

She reached into her pocketbook to busy her hands, hoping the busyness from her mind would transfer over. She found a list she had written earlier from last month, with all supplies they needed for the salon. 

I tried to check everything off my list. Why did it cost me a good husband to have children? I’m so powerless…

Lucy looked up to see some of the neighborhood kids racing their bikes home; it was dinnertime after all. She glanced at the windows of her neighbors to see casserole dishes being taken out of the oven, some husbands already sitting at the table.

I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I shouldn’t be – if I never had Susan and Linda, I would have been a failure of a woman. I would have been miserable.

Lucy was usually too afraid to question herself, but today she was so exhausted. She couldn’t help but let it creep into her mind.

I mean, I’m not even the motherly sort. I’m not fun like Frances, or gentle like Margaret, or selfless like Ruth. 

Lucy shook her head, trying to displace the thoughts from her head, trying to throw them out through her ears. But the floodgates had been opened.

I miss Roger. 

Why couldn’t we have kids? Why did it have to be like this?

Lucy stood waiting at a crosswalk. The bright red hand telling her to stop thinking about all of this. It wasn’t worth dwelling on.

Why is the world so obsessed with me, and whether or not I had kids?

Why didn’t my desires matter? Why did it make me think bearing children was the most important thing in the world?

Lucy thought back to that Italian Festival, one of the last fun things she did together with Roger. She thought of that snow cone he gave her, and how she looked around her before taking a small bite out of it. She wished she had taken a big bite instead. Without the spoon. She wished she had taken a big bite and the syrup ran down her face, spilled onto her clothes. 

Lucy turned the corner and saw home. A home filled with love and chaos that maybe wasn’t what she had always wanted. But it’s what she chose.

“Girls, I'm home!” she yelled. A flurry of footsteps avalanched towards her, followed by hugs. “I missed you two!” 

Beth poked her head out of the kitchen, “Dinner is ready now Ms. Lucy”

“Thank you so much Beth; I’ll see you tomorrow!

“Girls, let’s go eat!” Lucy said excitedly. 

Sitting at the table together, Lucy looked lovingly at her young girls. As she was serving up tuna casserole, she looked each in the eye. “Listen up – tonight, I want you to forget all about manners. Take the biggest bites you can, chew with your mouth open, wipe your mouth with your hands. Got it?”

The girls looked at each other, confused. But when that casserole was sitting on their plate, begging to enter their stomachs, they were excited to scarf it down, and enjoy every second of it just as they pleased.