Amy Signs: A Mother, Her Daughter, and their Stories

17. Respite and Renewal

104 17 Respite and Renewal Rebecca The longest day of summer was two months ago, but my days defy the laws of nature; they have increased in length. Since the university is on hiatus, my days seem endless. I have the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom who actually stays at home, and I love it. Most days I finish my chores by noon and enjoy the afternoon reading or working in the yard. John and Amy are drawing pictures on our concrete patio. After Amy’s artistic expression with crayons, I bought chalk. It’s not permanent and washes off any surface. “Do you want to help me?” I step outside with two small buckets. They are too young to help with weeding, but they like to pick raspberries. “Yeah.” John grabs a bucket. When Amy sees where he’s going, she disappears with him into the three-foot-high prickly raspberry canes. Amy loves raspberries, which surprises me, since less than a year ago she refused to eat anything with lumps, and raspberries are full of seeds. The day is gorgeous, so I decide to have a picnic supper. Before Jack arrives home, I set up a card table and place bottles of catsup, mustard, and pickles on the paper tablecloth to keep it from blowing to Kansas. When Jack arrives he places burgers on the grill and fills his glass with iced tea. John and Amy are seated, anxious to have Amy Signs Main Pgs 1-320.indd 104 6/27/2012 10:37:42 AM Respite and Renewal 105 their hamburger. A gust of wind raises a corner of the tablecloth, threatening to set it soaring. “Quick, put this on your plate before it blows away.” I hand Jack a jar of mustard. Too late. His paper plate with potato chips whips across the yard scattering its contents. I shoo flies off Amy’s plate and fan a swarm of gnats away from her face. “Cheee, chee, chee.” Amy kicks the underside of the table, frustrated. The catsup bottle vibrates from her mini-earthquake, but remains upright. Jack hands her a slice of cheese. “Is this what you want?” Amy shakes her head and hollers louder. “Chee, chee, Chee.” Her plate blows away. “Wow,” John shouts. “They’re Frisbees.” He runs after Amy’s airborne plate. “I think she wants Cheetos,” I say. Jack grabs a handful of Cheetos and puts them near Amy.“Rebecca, let’s eat inside. The bugs are terrible and nothing is staying on the table. He flips the burgers and then uses the spatula to kill a fly. I raise my eyebrows, but make no comment. “It’s impossible to enjoy a pleasant evening outside with the wind and bugs.”Out of my grumbling, an idea is born.“We should screen the patio.” “What?”Jack swats another fly with the spatula.“Hand me a paper plate.” “You’re not going to use that spatula on the burgers are you?” “Sure, why not.” “You just used it to kill flies.” “The heat from the charcoal will kill the germs.” Jack scoops the burgers onto the plate and closes the grill. I shake my head and wonder if the five-second rule about food being dropped on the floor can be applied to food served with a spatula used to kill flies. “Go ahead and have it screened. Hire somebody; I don’t have time to do it,” Jack says as he opens the sliding door. “I have more than I can handle at the store. Come on, John. We’re eating inside.” ) Amy Signs Main Pgs 1-320.indd 105 6/27/2012 10:37:42 AM 106 Amy Signs At noon the next day a salesman and carpenter arrive from a local lumber company. “Sure is hot outside, isn’t it?” I comment. The carpenter nods and smiles. The salesman wastes no time with pleasantries. “Okay, let’s get started. What do you have in mind?” The salesman asks. “I’d like a porch big enough for a picnic table, a hammock, room for the kids to—” “Show me where you want this porch, so I can see what’s possible,” the salesman says. As we walk toward the sliding door, the carpenter wrinkles his forehead and runs his fingers over the 3 × 5 card “sliding door.” I smile, wondering what he’s thinking. Twenty minutes later...