Читать книгу Just Breathe - Honey Perkel - Страница 8

I was one who counted days. I could have done it for a living. As a child I counted the days until we left for summer vacation on the Oregon coast or a day of shopping and lunch with my mom. Later, I counted the days until Bob and I got married. Until the closing of our house. I even found myself counting the days to things I dreaded. Visits to the dentist. Days before a term paper was due. It was just something I did. It showed the passage of time. Now, however, counting the days wasn’t realistic as no one knew how many we’d have to wait. So, I did the next best thing. I planned a dinner party.

I loved to entertain and to do so on a large scale, it was best to plan outdoor parties during the summers. Though we had nearly twenty-six hundred square feet of house, the footage was dispersed on three different floors. The rooms were small, though many. There wasn’t a lot of space in any one room to accommodate many guests.

With the yard now a perfect oasis, I decided on a barbecue with a Hawaiian theme for the first weekend in August. Hawaii had always held a special place in our hearts; it was where Bob and I spent our honeymoon and thought about retiring one day.

I invited eighteen of our closest friends and told them to wear Hawaiian garb. We would provide the leis, food, and drinks. With a tropical and lengthy menu, I’d be in the kitchen for days. It was what I loved to do.

Of course, I invited our neighbors Laura and David. Days before, they’d had a huge garage sale. Bob and I had put in hours to help them. Laura was selling all of Kari’s baby things — toys, crib, changing table, high chair, baby bottles, and piles and piles of baby clothes. I wanted to purchase the entire load; however, I didn’t even know if we’d use them. What if a baby couldn’t be placed with us? Karen had made no guarantees. And to have a house filled with baby things we couldn’t use would only make matters worse. Though it pained me, I thought better not to buy anything until Bob and I received the go-ahead sign.

The week of the barbecue arrived and I was excited at the prospect of being with our friends — of cooking up a storm. I’d already done most of my grocery shopping as well as buying Hawaiian decorations from a local party store.

The Monday prior I’d telephoned CSD and spoke to our caseworker. Karen informed me to call again in three to four months. I promised I would. Now I delved into party planning. I spent most of my time in the kitchen, our dog Pumin staying close beside me in case I dropped any morsel on the floor. The menu included: Polynesian Shrimp Dip. Tahitian Fruit Cups. Teriyaki Chicken with Mandarin-Parsley Rice and Almond Green Beans. Dessert would be simple — ice cream sundaes. I was so happy, in my element, but that party never materialized.

Thursday morning as I sat browsing through a party book trying to decide if I should make place cards or not, the telephone rang. Punim ran circles around my feet, wagging her tail as I made my way to answer it. It was Karen Davis.