Holly Chamberlin - Tuscan Holiday

You shouldnt have spent the money, Elizabeth.

My mother sniffed delicately at the bouquet of Purple Moon Carnations. They were her favorite, a fact she often mentioned in the weeks before a holiday.

Youre welcome, Mom.

Of course I love them. Thank you, honey. But you know I dont need any gifts from you.

In spite of the frequent hints about favorite flowers, fragrant beauty creams, and scented candles?

But I need to give you gifts, okay? I said. So bear with me.

But still, they must have cost you a fortune!

My God, I thought, youd think Id given her a diamond-encrusted evening bag! What ever happened to the art of gracious receiving?

Its rude to talk about the price of a gift, Mom, I reminded.

Oh, Im sorry. The flowers are lovely. Thank you again, dear.

My motherJane Caldwell, still teaching high-school English though nearing retirementwent off to put the flowers in a vase. I glanced casually at the mantel on the far side of the living room. No Mothers Day card other than the one from me. So, Marina had forgotten or neglected to give her grandmother a card. Or, a charitable thought, maybe she had a card for me and one for her grandmother in that monstrous bag shed taken to lugging around, a metallic sack with grommets and fringe and buckles too numerous to count.

This is a very popular style, she told me, defensively, I thought, when I asked her where shed gotten it.

I know that, I said. I read InStyle . I read Vogue . I just asked where you got it.

It wasnt expensive, if thats what youre asking.

Uh, no. What Im askingfor the third timeis where you bought the bag.

I swear, sometimes talking to ones child is like negotiating a minefield. You didnt ask to be in the middle of a minefield, you have no idea how you got there, and all you want to do is survive said minefield with your limbs intact.

I did finally learn that Marina had bought the bag at Marshalls. Id taught her well when it came to bargain hunting.

The doorbell rang, interrupting the mostly critical thoughts about my daughter. Ill get it, I said. It was Rob. He hadnt been at the graduation ceremony; Marina had been limited to three tickets.

Where are Jothams parents? Rob asked when hed taken a survey of the guests: my father, Tom; Marina; her long-time boyfriend, now fianc, Jotham Grandin, whod also graduated earlier that day from Graham College in Boston; my mother, back with the carnations in a cut-glass vase; and me.

Invited, I explained, but they said they had a previous engagement. Whatever. They took the kids out to dinner last night.

A pricey steak house, no doubt.

Now, Rob.

What? So, where did they go?

Capitol Grille. A pricey steak house.

Hey, its a celebration, he said. A time for indulgence.

Now youre defending them?

What defending?

Anyway, I said, youre right. This is a celebration, so I got a Carvel ice-cream cake. You know its Marinas favorite. And considerably less expensive than a specialty cake from Patisserie Claude.

Mmm, Carvel ice-cream cake. Gotta love the crunchy chocolate layer.

We joined the rest of the party in time to hear my father relating to a bored-looking Jotham his latest home-repair triumph, a tale involving the installation of a brand-new air conditioner in his tool room in the basement.

Rob hugged Marina and handed her a small, prettily wrapped gift.

Oh, Rob, thank you, she said. Should I open it now?

Rob shrugged. If you want. And theres a gift receipt inside in case you want to exchange it.

Marina carefully sliced one taped end and slid a plastic-encased electronic device into her palm.

Wow, its the new iPhone! Thanks, Rob. She gave him another hug and handed the plastic case to Jotham, who immediately set to the difficult work of opening it with his Swiss Army knife.

What exactly does the new iPhone do? I asked, sotto voce.

Im not entirely sure. I think it has something to do with being able to use any service, not just AT&T. Or something.

I looked hard at Rob. Youre an engineer. Youre supposed to know how things work. Youre even supposed to know why they work.

True. But the world is changing awfully fast.

Now you sound like an old man.

I am fifty.

Hardly old. And you can prove it to me later.

Really? he said, with a grin. Ice-cream cake and sex in one day? Whos got it better than me?

Rob Wayne and I had been together on and off for about thirteen years at that point, long enough to be comfortable with each others flaws, foibles, and weaknesses but still, amazingly, excited by each other. When we werent too tired or too busy or too hungry.

The buzz over Robs gift had died down enough for me to feel that it was time to present my gift. I retrieved a rather bulky envelope from the credenza in the front hall and brought it to my daughter.

From me, I said, struggling not to cry. Your childs graduation from collegeespecially a graduation capping a successful four years of studyis a very proud moment.

Marina smiled, and if she was eager to see what was inside, you couldnt tell by the way she carefully opened the envelope, barely ripping the sealed flap. With a questioning look at Jothamwhat had she expected, snakes to pop out?she extracted my present, two round-trip tickets to Florence.

Oh my God! she cried, turning once again to her fianc. Were going to Italy, Jotham, you and me!

I was painfully aware of the awkward glances shooting among the other three adults in the room, my mother to my father to Rob and back again. None of them looked directly at me; I was thankful for the small favor.

Um, no, Marina, I said. Actually, you and I are going to Italy. I bought those tickets for us. You know, as

I hesitated; I was embarrassed at having to explain what I had hoped would be obvious.

As what? Marina asked, clearly disappointed and just as clearly trying to hide her disappointment.

Well, youve graduated college, and youre getting married next spring, and, well, I just thought this would be my send-off present to you, you know, as you venture out into the world.

Oh, Marina said, with about as much expression as a turnip. Thanks, Mom.