Chapter 18
Adam had always been a good son. Thoughtful and kind, but they had never been what Mary Louise would call close. They didn’t talk everyday as Mary Louise knew some sons and mothers did. Mary Louise found it hard to get close to anyone. Growing up as she had, the wall that she built had never come down. It was built to protect her from the outside, but she never realized it also closed everything in. Adam got along fine with Albert, but theirs had always been a buddy relationship. With Albert gone so much, the time father and son spent together was mainly about having fun, not establishing a solid child/parent relationship.
Mary Louise worried about how far she’d gotten her children up Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Physically they were well taken care of. They always had a safe, warm home. They never had to worry about food or going hungry. She was one hundred percent sure their basic needs had been met one hundred percent. When it got to the psychological needs - belongingness, love needs, esteem needs, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe the difference was boys and girls. Adam played sports and had lots of friends. He breezed through high school and college, found a good job, found a good wife and settled down to what Mary Louise hoped was a pretty happy life.
Carla, on the other hand, stumbled whenever it came to relationships and Mary Louise had spent many hours beating herself up over what she should have done, could have done, to pave an easier way for her daughter. Part of her wanted to scream at Carla. “Do you know what I went through when I was your age? Do you have any idea how hard I worked to give you the best life possible?” Carla was bright and beautiful, and yet got herself hooked up with terrible men, beginning with terrible boys in high school.
Thank goodness for Adam’s wife, Blair. It was easy to see they had a strong, solid bond. They were each other’s strength. When they had trouble conceiving, when Blair’s mother went through a long battle with breast cancer, and when Albert passed away, they stood by each other, holding each other up. Mary Louise was glad her son had found such a relationship, but couldn’t help feeling a bit envious.
Adam was protective of her, particularly after Albert died. He treated her like a fragile flower, having no idea how strong she actually was, how strong she’d become because she’d had no choice if she’d wanted to survive. He mistook her quiet, timid ways for weakness when in actuality they had been a survival mechanism. Blend in with your surroundings. Stay quiet. Do not disturb.
Adam and Blair had twin boys, now ten years old. When they were first born, Mary Louise was still working but she helped out as much as she could. Even an hour in the evening so they could take showers or run to the grocery store was well received and much appreciated. As the boys got older, they would occasionally come and spend the day or the night. Mary Louise loved those years. The boys were all about playing with cars, building with the large legos and reading books. When Albert first died, Adam and Blair didn’t want to burden Mary Louise. They didn’t understand that the distraction was great medicine. Then the sports kicked into high gear and they were either at a practice, game, or tournament almost every night and every weekend. And to be honest, it was getting harder to keep the boys occupied. They wanted to either play video games or explore outside and neither of those activities was on the top of Mary Louise’s list of Fun Things To Do. Since she’d let the front go wild, they no longer had their soccer/football field so visits were becoming fewer and farther apart.
This made Mary Louise even more grateful for her friends. Loneliness was no joke. She kept reminding herself of something she had read, maybe on FaceBook or maybe on Instragram. Since she had spoken the words “Life Coach” out loud now she got all kinds of sponsored posts on mental health. There was one that pointed out that she should frame her thoughts that she was “feeling lonely” or “feeling lonliness” rather than saying she “was lonely.” Subtle difference, but it had given her pause.
She was surprised by how much she had enjoyed having Pixie around. Would it be absolutely crazy to get a dog? She had raised two children. Surely she could successfully take care of a pet.
She spent some time perusing the greater Austin area pet shelters on her phone. Cute pictures of dogs in bandanas, tongues hanging out and anxious to be adopted. But they were all so big and for some reason, lots of pit bulls and pit bull mixes. She’d heard so many times that it was the owner, not the dog, who was responsible for aggressive behavior but she had two young grandsons. She didn’t want to take a chance on a pit bull, plus she didn’t think she could handle a big dog. She wanted a little dog like Pixie. They didn’t show up in the shelters very often and she certainly couldn’t afford to pay for one from a breeder.
Pixie picked that moment to jump up and settle in her lap. She’d just have to settle for doggie sitter, already wondering about the next time Aaron and Cheyenne might be planning a trip out of town.
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