"I've got too many choices. And each one comes
with strings attached. Is this the way grownups live all the time? It's
too hard." Josh had settled into a wicker rocker on Miss
Ingersoll's porch.
"Choices are always hard, Josh. That's why they're
so important. But you're lucky. Three choices, and each one is
good. No matter what you choose, you are going to be all right."
Two glasses sat on the wicker table between them. She dropped a
piece of mint into each and poured the pink lemonade.
"But, Miss Ingersoll. Don't you think there's a right
choice? Something that will be better than the others? Thanks." He took
a sip of the cold drink.
"Oh, certainly some things are better than others. I'm
not sure that's the important question. I think the important thing
is making a choice, and then standing by it."
"Huh?" How could this woman always find three
different ways to look at a simple question?
"Suppose you decide to live with Cindy, and work for
Gus. Well, then, you can't begin each day by wishing that you were
in Detroit. Or, if you go to Detroit, you can't spend all your
time wishing you were here with Cindy." She smiled, as if everything
had suddenly become clear.
"I guess I want some of each. Mostly, I'm scared."
And now she had him admitting the most difficult part of the
whole equation.
"That's part of the game, Josh. The more important
the choice, the scarier it is."
"Did you ever make tough decisions, Miss Ingersoll?"
Was this a fair question? One of the things Josh liked best about
this woman was how willing she was to talk about anything, no
holds barred.
"Now, Josh. You don't think I got to be eighty years old
by not making decisions? Lots of times. Lots of moments to
decide." She paused and sipped her lemonade. For a moment she
seemed lost in her thoughts. "But you know what?"
"What?"
"Every decision I've made has been leading me to
this moment, right here, right now, with you. So I think I've done
all right." She smiled, reached across the table and patted his hand.
"But you could have been, you could have been. . . ."
He couldn't imagine her as anything other than what she was.
"A contender? That's not what I wanted. I'm not a fighter.
I like to be behind the scenes. But I think, in my quiet way, that
I've affected a lot of people. My library may not have looked like
a battlefield, but I made some waves. And you can too. Here, or
in Detroit, or maybe somewhere else. Maybe there's a hotshot
lab waiting for you in California. Or Europe. Or anywhere in the
world, Josh. And you can make it happen."
"You make it all seem so marvelous. But really, I've got
to choose. Is it really Cindy or Detroit? Is it that simple?" His
whole life, and she didn't think it was a big deal.
"It doesn't sound simple to me. Those are
earthshaking choices. You've worked hard, this last year, to make yourself
who you are. And Cindy's part of that."
"So you think I should stay here?" Was he angry? He
didn't mean to be.
"How long have you known Cindy?"
"Five weeks. Well, five weeks tomorrow since we
got dragged into the girls' room."
"So if you'd had to make this choice six weeks ago,
would you have gone to Detroit?"
"Yes. No. I still don't know. There's lots of other stuff
here. Mom. You. Miss Parsons. Gus. Fred. The garage. Lots of stuff."
It wasn't as simple as she thought.
Miss Ingersoll took another sip of lemonade and gazed
at the street for a long moment. "Is there stuff in Detroit? Stuff
like that?"
"No. I don't know anyone there. I'd have to start over."
"What about James Maloney? He sounds like a friend."
"He's nice, but. . . ."
"And his niece? And that angry firebrand in the auto
class? What was her name?"
"Kristen."
"That's quick. Maybe I caught you off guard. A studied
`I don't remember' would have made Exeter seem like a sure
choice. Maybe I'm not the right person to give you advice on love.
But there are a lot of girls out there. And a lot of them are
wonderful people. Like Kristen. And Cindy. If you find a life you like, I'll
bet that you'll find a girl there that will be just right for you."
"Cindy's my girl." That should have been said with
less defensiveness as well.
"Then that's easy. Easier than I thought. Stay here.
Choose between the garage and Stratham Tech. You're all set."
"You don't believe that, do you?"
"Josh. I don't want to be devil's advocate. I just want
you to think for yourself. Make decisions based on what you
believe will be best for you. Not because Cindy is here or Kristen is
there. But because Josh wants to be here. Or there."
"That's too hard. You know, I think that you're the
adult that I respect the most. The one who knows me the best."
And maybe the only adult that he would take advice from.
"A lot of people know you."
"Yeah, but you have some extra perception. Intuition.
You know me. You know me better than my mother, maybe even
better than I do. Of course you know me better than I do. So I
respect you. And if you tell me to stay, I'll do it. Or if you tell me to go
to Detroit, I'm outta here. So it's your call. Tell me." He waited.
"You haven't been listening, have you? Josh. You're a
dear. You showed up in my life quite by accident. But you've made a
lot of things better for me, just by being yourself. I would love to
tell you what to do, and have it be the best thing for you. But I can't.
I can't make those decisions for you. You have to do that
yourself. But I can tell you one thing. And that is, that no matter what
you decide—Detroit, Exeter, to run away to Istanbul—that I
will respect your decision, and love you as much as I do now."
She refilled his glass with lemonade.
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