Page 45 of Maybe Some Other Time

“I’ve had enough of this.” Thelma shoved the papers into the glove box and left her purse on the floor as she slammed the latch shut.

“It’s fine if you’re a closed-off man who likes to keep his heart close to him, but things like this?

You can’t keep this to yourself, Rob. I’m still your mother.

Do you think I don’t care about your well-being? ”

He muttered something unintelligible.

“You’re coming with me to my therapy appointment tomorrow.”

That got him talking more clearly. “What? No way. I ain’t seeing no shrink, let alone with you. ”

“You are, and you will! There are some things we need to hash out with a neutral third party!”

“I ain’t seeing no time travel shrink!”

“Fine! Then who do you suggest we see, if not a therapist? Because now’s not the time to drag Megan into this.”

“Damn straight it isn’t.” Robbie chewed on something for a second. “I know who. If I arrange something on Friday, will you shut the hell up about this?”

“All right. Just nothing embarrassing.”

“No guarantees!”

He slammed his hand against the gearshift and hit the gas. Thelma thrust against the seatbelt that locked up against her chest. Gosh darnit, do I hate these things! Whoever mandated seatbelts while she was gone was a monster! Like a caged animal choking to death!

Which was probably exactly how Robbie felt every day, wasn’t it?

While Megan was in class, Thelma dressed in her Sunday best, which included Irene’s Givenchy knock-off and perfect curls that matched her autumn sweater.

She didn’t know who to expect that day, but Robbie had gone out of his way to make coffee and order in from a sandwich place for lunch.

I offered to make something, but… He had shooed her out of his sight while in the kitchen.

The rickety picnic table in the backyard was dusted off. Thelma kept to the shade as she sat on one side of the bench and watched her son guide a woman only a few years younger than him out into the backyard.

“Oh, my…” A riot of auburn curls blew in the breeze as a woman with more freckles on her face than polka dots on her shirt slowly approached Thelma. “You weren’t kidding. She looks just like the pictures.”

Thelma minded her manners as she stood up and extended a polite hand to her visitor. “Thelma Van der Graaf,” she introduced herself. “I’m Robbie’s niece.”

“The hell you are! You’re his mother! I’d recognize those little dimples and that strong Scandinavian clavicle anywhere! I only saw you watching me sleep for years! ”

This was how Thelma met Robbie’s ex-wife, Rebecca, more commonly known as Becky.

“Well…” Robbie backed away. “I’ll go get the coffee. Make yourself comfortable.”

Thelma rolled her eyes as Robbie scurried back inside and left her with someone new. “So, you know?” she asked Becky, who sat in a plastic chair at the head of the picnic table.

“Enough. Trust me, I had to dive into the darkest parts of the internet to find real discussion about it. I’ve got people I trust.”

Thelma didn’t know what to make of that. All she knew about the internet was that you could shop on it, read the news, and talk to other people. And there’s so much of all of that. It was still too overwhelming for her. “Still, it’s not something to take lightly.”

“What? Time travel? Hey, I’m a big Trekkie. I think anything is possible if we put our minds and creativity to it.”

“A Trekkie?”

Robbie reemerged, balancing plain coffee cups on a tray. Already, Thelma huffed. “You know. Fans of Star Trek. Guess that was a bit after your time.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that. Robbie watches it.”

“Yes, we used to watch all of the versions together. We even went to a convention a couple of times!” She looked up at her ex-husband. “You wouldn’t get this about him, but he likes science fiction as much as he likes those westerns.”

“Cowboys, aliens, what’s the difference?” he muttered.

Thelma turned her nose up at the tiny ceramic cups he presented them with. “We have an important guest. You should use the Fiestaware.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Mulberry and Paprika would go nicely with today, Robbie.”

Grinning, Becky leaned back in her plastic chair. “Yeah, Rob, get out the Mulberry and Paprika for ol’ Becks here.”

“She’s been here seven months and she’s already an expert on damn ceramics!” Robbie put the cups back on the tray. “I remember when there were only five colors!”

“And two of them are radioactive now!” Becky called after him. “And they all had lead!” She nudged Thelma. “By the way, hope you don’t mind that I took some of the vintage dishes in the divorce. He never really appreciated your curated collection.”

“Most of that was my mother’s.”

“All the more reason to put them in a home that would appreciate them. I’ve got all the rad red locked up in a showcase. My current husband doesn’t get it. None of them do.”

“Why did you two get divorced?”

“Who? Me and Robbie?” Becky wrinkled her nose. “Have you met him?”

“Guess I should be asking why you two got married, then…”

“Ah, well, I once liked that gruff personality. Also, we met through a mutual friend who likes all the same books we do. Guess you could say I was looking for a fixer-upper without realizing it.”

Before Thelma could say anything about that, Robbie returned yet again, this time with the coffee neatly poured into autumn-appropriate colors as befitting their guest. Thelma thanked him for his hospitality and waited for him to sit down before saying, “So, you invited your ex-wife to mediate between us?”

“Becky’s the best. Works for me and Megan all the time.”

“There he goes again,” Becky said to Thelma. “Always needing a woman to handle his problems.”

“How long were you two married?” Thelma asked.

“A little over fifteen years,” Becky answered in her ex’s stead. “Around year five was when Megan was born.”

“She’s a trooper,” was all Robbie said.

“And you live in the Valley?”

“Yup,” Becky said. “Megan split her time between us, but mostly lived with me through high school. We agreed the schools were better.”

Robbie nodded.

“Then she got into her college, and it was a lot easier for her to live with her dad than to commute from deeper in the Valley and much cheaper than to live in a dorm.”

“I tell her she can stay for free as long as she’s doing something with her life.”

“Isn’t that magnanimous of her own father?” Becky sarcastically asked.

Thelma sipped from her Mulberry cup. One of the first things I bought here was this place setting.

She saw it for sale in Macy’s in July and decided it was time to sort and add to Robbie’s maintained Fiestaware collection.

Guess I was inspired by the Very Vintage place.

Thelma had gone back with Pauline, where they both gushed over everything—including Charity.

Her finger played with the ring handle on the cup before she said, “I think it’s amazing how many opportunities young women like Megan have these days.

” She sipped her coffee again. “Naturally, I was able to go to college, but it wasn’t expected.

And I dropped out as soon as I married Bill. ”

“Have you thought about going back?” Becky asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d have to start all over. But my friend Pauline, who came from the ‘30s, has a degree in American History. Maybe I could do something like that.”

“American History….?” Robbie scoffed. “Name one thing that happened in the ‘80s.”

While Becky began to chide him, Thelma recited the years of the Reagan administration and the day of the Challenger explosion. It shut him up for a few more seconds.

“So…” Becky’s gaze lingered on her ex as she spoke. “I understand I was summoned here because my grumpy ex-husband has prostate cancer and is trying to keep it from everyone.”

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“But not your mother.”

“She’s not my mother!”

The words were barked with the harsh intensity of a scared dog, but Thelma didn’t flinch. Instead, her finger rubbed the side of her coffee cup. Becky shook her head.

“I mean…” Robbie wouldn’t look at either of them. “You know what I mean! Look at her! She’s young enough to be Megan’s sister! We tell people they’re cousins! Did you know that the official story from the government is that she’s Debbie’s daughter?”

“You mean people think she’s your niece?”

“Yes! Crazy, isn’t it?”

“Do you think I like it any more than you?” Thelma asked.

“You act like a belligerent fool in half the stores we go to, and I’m supposed to sit there and take it because, one, you’re a grown man, and two, what power do I have in that situation?

This isn’t like it was for me a year ago when I could haul your miserable behind out of the store and make you think about what you did in the car. ”

“Thank God for that.”

“Do you know how many times I told him to just stay in the car if he was going to act like that?” Becky asked. “The whole reason I filed for divorce was because I felt like I had two children.”

“Not you too!”

“The man is ten years older than me and treated me like his mother.”

“I did not.”

“Did too.”

“You both sound like children right now,” Thelma observed.

“Oh, good!” Becky chuckled. “It’s been a long time since I was allowed to feel like a little girl again.”

Thelma wrapped her sweater closer around her, hands tucked beneath her arms. “I may be younger than you both, cellularly speaking, but the fact of the matter is that I’m still Robert’s mother and deserve to be treated with due respect.

I don’t care how long it has been for him.

I think I’ve been quite understanding of what a shock this is for him. ”