She Said: “Mom, You’re Turning 70. We Want To Celebrate You.” I Booked The Flight. Landed At LAX. THEN I REALIZED…

Hey.” Her voice had that practiced cheerfulness. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, honey. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great.

Actually, I was calling because Brad and I were talking and we realized your birthday’s coming up.”
I set down my tea. “It is. Seventy is a big one.”
“Mom, you should celebrate.”
I smiled into the phone.

“I was thinking I’d make myself a nice dinner. Maybe invite Carol from next door.”
“No, no, no. We want to do something special.

What if you came here to California? We could throw you a party.”
My heart did something strange. A little jump.

“A party?”
“Yeah. Nothing huge. Just family.

Maybe some of Brad’s parents, the kids. We could do it the weekend of your actual birthday. What do you think?”

I thought about the last time I’d been invited to something.

Really invited—not obligated. It had been years. Christmas two years ago, maybe.

And even then, Jessica had said, “If you’re not too tired from traveling, I think that sounds lovely.”
I said, “Perfect.”
“Book a flight. Let me know when you land. We’ll pick you up.”
After we hung up, I sat there for a long time.

The kitchen window showed my small backyard. The palo verde tree dropping its tiny yellow flowers onto the patio. I’d lived in this house alone for six years since Robert died.

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