Ithaca Under Grey Skies

For RTT’s 21st birthday, I wanted to buy him some shares of stock. Things he uses on a daily basis. Apple. Netflix. Heineken. The stock market is kinda like fantasy football, right? So I figured this would be an entertaining, even useful gift for a 21-year-old sports fanatic.

It would have involved him setting up a trading account, though. Which is something he’d have to do on his own. And after about the fifth time I approached him on that matter, it became obvious that RTT had absolutely no interest in setting up a trading account.

So I ended up getting him tickets for the upcoming Knicks/Golden State Warriors game instead.

This gift was a huge hit.

###

It was good to see Robin, though the drives up and back were kind of a slog – grey skies and bare trees. Driving over the Catskills, I felt like I was on a scouting trip for Walter White. All those abandoned houses, picturesque in fair weather, look like meth labs when the sky is grey, employment opportunities for guys with very bad teeth.

And it’s funny. When the sun is out, I can relate to Ithaca as a charming little town filled with interesting things to look at and do, and with eccentric, well-meaning people.

But when the skies are grey, I remember how very miserable I was when I lived there. And every intersection is like a Station of the Cross: It was on this exact spot in December 2010 that I veered off the side of the road in the middle of a snowstorm, and got caught in a ditch, and had to call Ben to rescue me and RTT. And Ben drove up in the girlfriend’s car with the girlfriend scowling in the passenger seat to help dig me out. And after about 30 minutes – the snow was coming down heavily now – we succeeded in digging out the car, and in the gas station near where 366 to Freeville veers off 13, I went up to the girlfriend’s car because I thought it would be polite to introduce myself and apologize for the inconvenience – and she rolled up her window in my face.

“She’s sophisticated in some ways but not in others,” Ben explained to me later.

Ben and I continued to spend an inordinate amount of time together when I lived in Ithaca – partly because, breakup or no breakup, we’ve always gotten along really, really well as pals and partly because I literally had no other pals. We talked about his relationship with Jayne L_____ often. What puzzled me the most about that relationship was that Jayne L_____ had absolutely no sense of humor, was a very literal, concretistic thinker, and on Facebook – because, of course, I stalked her on Facebook – was constantly posting things like, Feeling so BLESSED today!

How could Ben possibly want to be with someone like that?

But in those early days (at least), she didn’t put up with any of the shit that I’d been putting up with for years from Ben.

“I get it!” I said to him once. “I really do. She’s kind of your jailer, right? That’s why you stay with her!”

Of course, I was saying that to be mean. But Ben looked down at the twisting hands in his lap, and then back up at me and said, “I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

###

After Ben went into his hepatic encephalopathy coma and on to the Deathwatch List, I imagine their couple dynamic changed. I wasn’t around anymore to take notes. Apparently, Jayne L_____ is prone to deep dark depressions and her own brand of hysterical behavior. Or maybe Ben just brings that out in the women who get close to him.

Anyway, after about a year of living with the Deathwatch List, she took off for Tennessee. And I resumed my visits to RTT in Ithaca because I could now crash at Ben’s house.

A year or so after that, Ben took the Hep C miracle drug, which reduced his viral load to zero. So now he’s off the Deathwatch List.

The last time I saw Jayne L_____ was at the Cayuga Medical Center at Ben’s bedside where she and Ben’s brother Lew felt the need to tag team me to let me know what a terrible mother I was. I can’t remember whether Ben was still in his coma or coming out of his coma.

I actually thought – and continue to think – I’m a pretty good mother. I mean, given all the horrible things that happened to me in 2008 – 2009 in a very short period of time.

But even if I had been a terrible mother, you know, timing is everything. And I think it’s pretty bad timing to unload like that on someone who, for all she knew, was watching the father of her child die.

Should I ever run into Jayne L_____ again, I would like it to be while she’s lying on a sidewalk somewhere covered in blood. So I can piss on her and walk calmly away.

Dicks are really so much more convenient than vaginas for those kinds of revenge fantasies.

###

Anyway, RTT seems to be doing okay these days. Justin’s name even came up in casual conversation, and RTT did not go into a tailspin.

I did sit both Ben and RTT down – separately – to go over the whole lying-about-the-LSAT-in-October incident.

To Ben, I said, “You know, Ben – and I’m not saying this because I’m still angry about it or to make you feel bad – but the really upsetting thing about that whole incident was how closely he was mirroring past behavior of yours. Your obsessive lying.”

To RTT I said, “You know, you don’t ever have to lie to me. You’re 21 now. I’m your Mom, and I’ll always be your Mom. But I don’t see my role in your life anymore as telling you what to do. Of course, I’ll always be happy to give you advice. But only if you want it.”

Ben, of course, still feels his role in RTT’s life is to tell RTT what to do. So he is actually going to Syracuse on Friday to march RTT into the stuffy room where the LSAT is being given on December 6th.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked Ben.

“Because I paid for it,” said Ben. “Including the two exams that Robin shined on, I have now invested $700 in Robin’s law school career.”

“But he shined them on because he clearly has no interest in going to law school,” I said. “At least, not at this point in this life.”

“Well, he’s gotta do something,” Ben said. I’m not sure, but his teeth may have been clenched.”

To RTT, I asked, “Do you actually want to take the LSAT this Saturday?”

Robin sighed, fiddled with his phone, got a SnapChat from his girlfriend. Giggled.

“The LSAT,” I repeated. “Do you really want to take it?”

Robin shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I don’t know. Can we talk about something else?”