But Mrs. Pinchley is right, Ann admitted to herself, I am sick with worry. If Lani would only write, and tell me what's happening…
The upset young mother stood looking into her daughter's room for a few moments, at the high school pennants and the stuffed animals spread across the brightly colored bedspread, and then closed the door softly. She made her way through the hall to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out some ice to cool her drink. Then she sat slowly at the kitchen table, lowered her face into her hands, and began, very quietly to cry.
It had all started with her latest move to California, two years before. Lani had been in her last year of high school, and had begun to show signs of restlessness, of dissatisfaction, not with her mother, but with things in general. She had begun running with a strange crowd, long-haired, strangely clothed, and rebellious. Ann had been careful not to criticize, knowing that her opposition would only serve to make her daughter more committed to the group of people she had chosen as friends. Throughout that year, Lani's relationship with her mother had remained the same understanding, warm bond that it had always been, and there had been no ruptures in their deep-seated love for one another.
And yet, not long after Lani had begun to run with this crowd, she started talking about leaving home, and making her own way in the world. Again, Ann had talked this over with her rationally, and unemotionally, even though the very thought of life without Lani caused her unbearable pain. And then, one day, it had happened. Lani had told her mother that some of her friends had decided to join a commune in Mendocino, and that she had decided to go with them. Ann tried desperately to dissuade her, arguing that she hadn't yet finished school, that she wasn't ready to take this great step yet, that she knew nothing about the commune or the people in it. But Lani would not be dissuaded, and Ann knew that it was useless to try to forbid her strong-willed young daughter. Again the mother decided to preserve at all costs the warm, loving relationship that existed between the two of them, and after warning Lani of the dangers, and making sure her daughter knew that her bedroom would always be waiting for her if she should want to come back, Ann gave her unwilling consent to Lani's plan.
The air conditioner was just beginning to make its presence felt in the small apartment. Ann raised her head from the cradle of her hands, stretching her long slim legs sensuously under the table, and spreading her finely rounded thighs slightly apart, letting the air circulate some of the heat and dampness from between them. She stared fixedly at the wall opposite her, completely absorbed in her thoughts of her daughter. A slight frown creased her beautiful face as she remembered the one time Lani had come home on a visit from the commune. She had brought a whole group of friends with her, both boys and girls, and they had all slept on the floor in the same room, in bleeping bags and blankets.
There had been almost 10 of them, all long-haired, freely looking types, with a vacant and yet somehow preoccupied look about them. Lani had been wonderful, but Ann felt her attention often preempted by her friends and so they had not really had much of a chance to talk. Ann sensed that her daughter was not completely happy with the choice she had made, that there was something in the back of her mind that allowed just a trace of doubt to gnaw quietly but persistently at her. But there had not been time during that short visit for the two of them to sit down and evaluate Lani's experiences, and before Ann could decide just what the source of Lani's doubt was, she had gone away again, back to Mendocino and the commune, in the company of her motley and disheveled crew of friends.
Ann raised her body wearily from the table and walked to the small living room, passing by her absent daughter's room this time without stopping. She walked over to the small sofa and lay down, closing her eyes with a sigh, trying to rid her mind of the anxiety that was beginning to close ins on it with undeniable persistency. Her voluptuously formed body lay tensed on the sofa, her head propped up on an old and faded cushion. It had been almost five months since Lani's visit, and since that time Ann's home life had been a torture. She was beginning to drink too much, and spent her evenings wandering from one place in the house to another, absently, as though she were searching for something without any idea of what it might be. Perhaps she had devoted herself too much to her beautiful child, perhaps her life had revolved around Lani's too completely, but she knew it was useless to speculate about that kind of thing. The fact was that she did feel lost without her daughter, was drifting rudderless through the maddening calm of her everyday, humdrum life.
The late afternoon sun forced its way through the dirty panes of her apartment windows, warming sofa where she lay with lazy, hot insistence. Ann must have dozed off, because when she opened her eyes the apartment had grown dim with evening's half-light, and the clock on her mantle said 7:30. Automatically, she got up to fix herself some dinner, and then stopped herself. She wasn't hungry. She sat again on the sofa, and let her drowsiness seep out of her slowly, leaving her somewhat rested and momentarily calmer.
I dreamed something, she asked herself, what was it? She let her mind ease back to a few moments before, and then a slight smile fitted briefly across her beautifully sculpted face. Of course… Lani. I dreamed I went to visit her, and I held her quietly in my arms on a grassy hillside and the sun was very hot on our faces, and there was nobody in the world but the two of us…
Ann leaned back against the sofa, a look of concern on her face. She tried to imagine what Lani's reaction would be, if she were to show up unannounced in Mendocino, at the commune. She thought Lani would be happy to see her, but she didn't know for sure. Abruptly, the young woman stood up once again, and wandered acres to the window nervously. It was Friday, and she had nothing but another empty weekend to look forward to, 48 hours to spend in idleness, with no housekeeping, no social life, and no family to keep busy with. She looked out on the rows and rows of dirty pastel houses, stretching down the hill toward the bay, and pictured happy families, mothers and daughters, looking forward to their two day vacation with anticipation and excitement. She stared out the window, her firm, high-set breasts beginning to heave with frustration, then quickly pulled the curtains and started anxiously toward the kitchen, trying to rid herself of the pain that was beginning to invade her tantalizing body. She stopped unwillingly in the hallway again, opposite Lani's bedroom door, and stood staring at it, through it, but not opening it. And then, suddenly her mind eased, and the pain flowed out of her chest, and her anxiety ridden body stopped its quivering. It was as though an enormous burden had been inexplicably lifted from her shoulders, as though an important decision had just been made for her.
Why not? What was she afraid of? She would go to Mendocino! She would talk to Lani, and try to discover if she was really happy. She did not admit it to herself, but she knew she would try to convince Lani to come back to South San Francisco with her, to take up their life again just as it had been before. And even if she didn't come, what better way was there to spend a weekend but with her lovely young daughter, just the two of them?
A great smile radiated across the voluptuous secretary's beautiful face, turning what had been anxiety into excitement. She would go first thing in the morning, it would only take a few hours to drive to Mendocino, and then she would see her precious child again. She fumed happily towards the kitchen, suddenly hungry now, and then stopped.
To hell with dinner, she thought to herself enthusiastically, I've got to figure out what to wear! She rushed into her bedroom, alive and happy for the first time in many, many months, and almost danced over to her closet. Her mind was already soaring far beyond South San Francisco, far beyond the small confines of her too small apartment. She was already in Mendocino, in the hot, hot sun, lying on a grassy hillside and holding her innocent young daughter in the gentle embrace of her loving arms. Her daughter? Her life!!!!