Homecoming

Nick is back from Tulane. He went there with his grandfather. I think they had a good time. They took a streetcar to Bourbon street and had alligator sandwiches. But he's not talking too much about it. I think the whole college application thing makes him very nervous.
My friends say it's good that he feels secure enough to go away. I'm not sure how we'll pay for it. He got a 31 on the ACT, which is enough for him to get a full scholarship to our state university, so that may be it.
I've never been to New Orleans. I feel really terrible that my dad is the one taking him on college trips instead of me. I shouldn't have gone back to grad school. It's too much. 8 weeks ago I was really happy, feeling like I'd bet on all the right horses. Now I'm a mess. Lilly got her braces off, and dropped 8 more pounds. Her periods have stopped.
"Lilly's too thin," my mother says on the phone tonight, stating the obvious. "I took her out to eat and she only had a peanut butter sandwich."
My mother is having trouble with Nick growing up, too.
Both of my folks retired this year, and they're going crazy. They paved over their entire front yard with decorative bricks. They also put up a gazebo, decorated with party lights and artificial autumn leaves. Then they turned their attention on me.
My mom showed up at my house at 6 am on Friday.
"What are you doing here, Mom?"
"I'm going to sit with Lilly."
"Lilly's sixteen."
"You're putting Lilly in danger. You shouldn't be working weekends."
I finally convinced her to go, but not before she'd made me late to work.
I told my friend Ileana about it at work. I knew Ileana in Miami and she remembers me vaguely--which is just fine with me. My days as a club rat were fine, but nothing I really want showing up in my life here. She probably feels the same way. Except for the cafe con leches, we don't talk much about Miami at all.
"Just love her," Ileana tells me. "My mother just died. Heart attack. I'd just been on the phone with her."
How much more Ileana can take, I don't know.
She has four children under 6. Her husband is sick. I think he's dying. She won't tell me what he has. I'm guessing AIDS. No income. She took a paper route. She gets up at 2 in the morning on the weekends and takes the kids with her to deliver papers. She just had a miscarriage. Everytime it seems like they've hit the bottom, the bottom drops out.
"What do we do?" Wiz asks me.
"Did you know about the paper route? That's why she's late all the time."
"Oh, Christ."
He doesn't tell the House Mom when she's late. We just cover until she gets here.
We've got a troubled crew. Lots of single mothers. Marcy's kid's in rehab, Sara drives an hour to get here, is in grad school full time, has two little kids, and is going through a divorce. Phoebe's boyfriend is a quadraplegic, and an asshole. She's having an affair with Baggins. Anne(the one who hid my cup)'s husband has cancer, they think. They don't really know. Carmen just lost her second pregnancy.
I'm amazed at how cheerful and resourceful everyone remains. How we can all still smile and give. The people I work with are nicer than I am. They're better and faster and kinder. I'm really lucky.

My mom showed up again this morning.
I didn't say anything. Just a nice hello. I kept putting on my makeup.
She left after about 15 minutes. "I'll come back and take her out to breakfast." She tells me.

I don't know...
That's my 1/2 hour