"God, I hate organized people."
"Please come by. We need to talk about this."
"I can't. One of our copy editors called in sick, and I'm working on some stuff at home tonight, that post-modern artist who lectured at the college yesterday. We got a bunch of great photos, and Jess wants a feature."
"Tomorrow, then? I want you to see this letter I got today."
"I'll try."
"Okay." I hung up. The gap between us was widening. Could I stand it, if the distance grew even more after my decision? I brushed my hand across my eyes to erase those thoughts, and turned to finish my meal. Well, if he had problems with the whole thing, they were exactly that–his problems. I didn't want to lose him, but bringing P.J. home was something I knew I had to do.
* * *
It was a cold Saturday in March; Mother and I had spent the afternoon wandering the Jubilant Falls Mall with the children as a last-resort means to entertain them. The city had been blanketed with six inches of late winter snow, closing everything from the Literacy Center to the city's public and private schools. We had all been prisoner to the white stuff, and an afternoon at the mall had seemed to be an excellent escape. Mother had enjoyed her afternoon with the children, and for once our conversation was relaxed and easy. Until now.
Pulling the Mercedes into her cavernous garage, Mother spoke to the children before she answered me. "Novella will have hot chocolate and pastry for good little boys and girls. Take all the goodies Grandma bought you into the house, and we'll be right in."
"I understand that Andrew put on quite a performance recently."
"What do you mean?"
"At the Emmett House Inn, about a month ago." Gazing into the rear-view mirror, Mother patted her perfectly coiffed hair.
"Oh, God. How did you find out that? No don't tell me. I don't want to hear it."
"Ellen Nussey was there with Ed and Lovey McNair. She saw the whole thing."
"I told Marcus I didn't think it was the best place to take the kids." We stepped from the car and into the kitchen. Andrew and Lillian sat at the breakfast bar, where Novella took all her meals, their legs swinging from the high stools and their upper lips masked in chocolate and whipped-cream mustaches. I stopped quickly to wipe their faces. Mother breezed past us, dropping her packages, purse, and coat on the dining room table.
"Kay, Novella will take care of them," she said, as she pulled off her gloves. "Come in here."
"I fink Gamma mad at you, Mommy." Lillian nodded her head knowingly at me.
"What else is new?"
"Honey, how about some more whip cream in that cocoa?" Novella interjected. "Go ahead, Miss Kay. I got it under control here."
I followed Mother, as she pushed through the dining room double doors into the living room and swung around to face me.
"Alright, go ahead. Take your best shot," I crossed my arms defensively. "Tell me why my children behaved so badly and how it all reflects on your standing in the community."
"If they weren't so traumatized over meeting their mother's lover, I suppose they might have behaved a little better."
"What?"
"From what Ellen and Lovey told me—"
"Now, there are a couple of real reliable sources. You're going to jump on me on the basis of what two old hens say they saw a month ago in a restaurant? It must not have been so horrible that they had to wait thirty days to tell you."
"That's not important. What matters is what kind of garbage are you subjecting my grandchildren to?"
"I don't think there's anybody in this whole world who knows how to get to me the way you do, Mother," I said. I took a seat on the couch, trying to contain my indignation as I leafed through a magazine. "The whole thing was Marcus's idea, and it ended badly. Okay? Can you stop trying to run my life now?"
"Why do you think it was appropriate to go along with this little scheme of his?"
"Because he wanted to meet my children, Mother. I’ve been very careful about them seeing him."
"As careful as you were about keeping your wedding vows, I see."
I struggled to keep my composure. "Mother, I'm going to say this just once. You have held me responsible for everything that went wrong in my marriage to Paul, and it's not fair. I'm tired of your judging every move I make, and I'm tired of you trying to control my life."
"Don't you talk down to me!" Mother shot back. "Paul Armstrong was the best thing that ever happened to you, Kay, and you ruined the whole thing with your tawdry little affair with that horrible reporter!"
"That horrible reporter is the best thing that ever happened to me," I corrected her. "I'll have you know Major Wonderful couldn't stay faithful to me if his life depended on it!"
"I find that hard to believe."
I took a deep breath to calm myself down. "Mother, this may be hard for you to believe, but it's true. Paul had an affair with a Korean woman just before Lillian was born." I walked into the dining room and pulled P.J.'s photograph from my purse. "Look at this!" I shoved the snapshot of the green-eyed, Korean toddler in front of her face. "You can't tell me this child is anything but Paul Armstrong's son."
Mother's jaw dropped. "I don't believe it."
"It's true. That's the reason he went back to Korea without me."
"Well, at least he didn't flaunt it in front of the whole town, like you have." Mother recovered her composure.
"He didn't have to flaunt his conquests. Everyone in the squadron knew about them. I just know that he had more than one."
"At least you don't have to bring that little half-breed here to Jubilant Falls."
"Would you want your grandchild living in an orphanage?"
"That's not my grandchild."
"He’s Paul’s son, so that makes him my stepson, and if I adopt him like I want to, he’ll be just as much a grandson to you as Andrew is."
"You can't be serious." Mother rolled her eyes.
"I can." I slipped P.J.'s picture back into my purse.
"Oh, for God's sake, Kay, have you lost all common sense? You have no money to support your two children, three if you count this, this—" Mother waved her hand, dismissively. "—this little bastard. And then you take up with this nobody, who is such a loser even your own children can sense it!"
"Mother, why do you hate him so much? He may not have money or any of those connections you think are so important, but he's a good, decent man. I don't know what our plans are for the future, but I know that this relationship will work. Just tell me what it is you don't like about him."
She was silent for a moment. "That's not important."
"Yes, it is!"
"Kay, you don't know how destructive this man is!"
"Oh please! Now you're getting melodramatic!"
"No I'm not. If there was anything I could do to end this little romance of yours, I would." There was an eerie fire in Mother's eyes. "I’d do anything, I’d pay anything to see that man wiped off the face of this earth."
"And I wouldn't put it past you, either. So maybe it would be better if we just didn't speak at all." I walked into the living room and began to gather my belongings together. "Andrew! Lillian! We're leaving!"
"No, Kay, please!"
"Sorry Mother, I'm closing the door. This time, for good."
* * *
That door stayed closed, for nearly two weeks. There was no way I was going to let that old woman run my life any longer. I was my own person, and she didn't have any right to say anything to me.
Then one evening, the phone rang. I pulled away from Marcus and the mindless detective show we were watching and stepped into the foyer.
"Miss Kay?" it was Novella.
"Novella! Is everything okay? Are you and mother all right?"
"Well, I'm fine, Miss Kay, but it's your mother."
"What is it? Is she sick?"
"She's sick only from not seeing you and those children."
"Oh, for Christ sak
e, Novella. What are you trying to do? Mend fences?"
"Now, now Miss Kay, you can't take her so seriously."
"I have to take her seriously when she says she'll break up Marcus and me if it's the last thing she does. She wants to run my life, Novella! You, of all people, should know how she is!"
"Miss Kay, please," she cajoled. "Just one afternoon with her. I'll fix a nice tea for both of you. All you have to do is bury the hatchet. You don't have to spend every waking moment with her. You don't have to agree with the way she lives her life. She just loves you and them children so much, and it's just broke her heart to not see you and your family."
"I'm not ready to bury the hatchet with that woman."
Novella took a deep breath and came at me again from another direction. "When Major Paul died after Christmas, didn't you feel like you had something left to say to him? Didn't you want to tell him you loved him one more time, or apologize for something mean you once said?"
"If only you knew all I wanted to say to that man," I said softly.
"See? That's what I mean, Miss Kay. Supposing Miz James dies tomorrow. You know for a fact at her age it could happen. Do you want to live the rest of your life knowing you had the chance to patch things up, and you didn't take it?"
She had me there.
"Alright," I said. "You make the arrangements. I'll be there."
"How 'bout tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock?"
"Why do I feel I've just been conned?"
"You won't regret it, Miss Kay. I swear you won't."
I hung up the phone and sat back down next to Marcus.
"Who was that?" he asked.
"Novella."
"This late? I hope everything is fine at Marian's castle keep?" He drew me next to him and kissed the top of my head. It had been a tender, though tentative, evening. He seemed to be making some headway with the kids, and as long as I didn't bring up P.J. we seemed to be back on an even keel.
"Yes. She wants mother and me to patch things up, so we're having tea tomorrow."
"What brought that on?"
"The old ‘what if she dies tomorrow and you two never made up?’ speech."
"I see." Marcus held me close. "What if I died tomorrow?"
"Why are you asking that?"
"Death, or the threat of death, seems to be a big motivator for you right now. You want to bring Paul's kid back to the States, you're going to make up with Maid Marian. What would you do, if I suddenly bought the farm?"
I thought for a moment. "The same thing I regret right now, turning down your proposal eight years ago. I should have married you then."
"What if I asked you right now. Would you turn me down again?"
"Would you accept P.J. into the family?"
He was silent.
"I see."
The wall between us went back up. Bored by the television and disgusted with Marcus, I eventually fell asleep. When I woke up a few hours later, I was alone. The gap between us had become a chasm. Long, deep and unending, it threatened to engulf us as much as it separated us.
How strange that one little boy could have so much power over three people. One now dead had brought him into the world, and two still living couldn't agree to give him the home he deserved.
* * *
"Miss Kay, I am so tickled that you done come."
The next afternoon, Novella opened the front door and ushered the children and me into what Mother called Daddy's study where she had covered the wide partner’s desk with a linen tablecloth. There were piles of scones; tea sandwiches made of cucumber, smoked salmon and watercress, each with the crusts removed and cut in dainty squares; petit fours; and chocolate cake. An angel food cake sat on a silver platter next to a large, silver bowl of whipped cream; beside it was a smaller crystal bowl of jam and an enormous strawberry Bavarian. The coffee and teapots towered over the food, in the antique serving set my Grandmother James had given my mother as a wedding gift. Even the antique sucrier had been resurrected, filled with soft, powdered sugar.
"Wow! Look at all that food!" Andrew reached for a sandwich.
"Andrew, you just keep your fingers out of there. I got you and Lillian here a plate back in the kitchen. Right now, your mama and your grandma need to talk."
"My God, Novella, who else is coming? The Joint Chiefs of Staff? The Pope?"
Novella smiled; there was no other cook like her in Mother's closed social circle, and she knew it. "No, just you and Mrs. James. Sit down. I'll get her, once I settle these two." Novella herded the children out the door, closing it with a gentle click behind her. I made myself comfortable and waited in one of the leather armchairs she had pulled close to the desk.
I'll bet I haven't been in this room for years, I thought. The study in our old house was always Daddy's domain, and mother had struggled to reproduce it in this new McMansion she lived in. Daddy did all his after-hours business there, meeting with the other partners in his medical practice, his lawyers, or accountants. I knew I was in trouble when Daddy summoned me to the study, and calmly shut the door behind me.
Daddy had been gone so long, since my junior year of high school, that some days I had trouble remembering his face.
Poor Mother, I thought, suddenly astounded. Novella was right—I'm all Mother has. It's no wonder she's so manipulative. For a woman with everything, she really has so little in her life. Except for that old cow Lovey McNair, she has to hoard every emotional tie she makes.
What was she like as a child, I wonder? She never talked about it. Come to think about it, her entire side of the family was never discussed, except to say that she was an only child and that after she graduated from high school they died in a car wreck. Was she wealthy? I knew she had been a medical secretary when she met Daddy during his residency at Jubilant Falls City Hospital. But was it a job just to keep a wealthy young woman busy till she found a husband, or did she need to support herself? Had she married into money, or did she have any of her own?
Why was it all such a secret?
The heavy door opened, and Mother in gray flannel slacks and a white cashmere sweater entered the room. She was twisting her pearl necklace through her fingers, nervously. Her cheeks were hollow, and she had applied too much rouge to cover her colorless skin.
"Hello, Kay," she said apprehensively. "I'm so glad you came."
A rush of feeling brought me to my feet. We were two adults now, two women who had lost their husbands, not parent and child eternally bickering. I walked quickly across the room to take her hands in mine. This woman was as adrift in this big house as P.J. was in Songtan. In our argument, I had cut her off from the things that meant the most to her, and she had suffered. I couldn't do that any longer. She would make me crazy; she would attempt to impose her values over mine, but she was still my mother, my only mother, just like Paul was Andrew and Lillian's only father. Once she was gone, there would be no other. Despite her faults, she was still family.
"Mother, I'm glad I came, too," I hugged her. She pulled back rigidly from me, quickly masking a startled look and becoming the dreaded social maven I abhorred.
That's OK, overlook it, I told myself. She's all the family you've got. You need each other.
"I do hope we can put all this unfortunate business behind us now." Mother took a lace handkerchief from her pocket and carefully blotted her lipstick. "It has been so difficult for me."
My heart filled with pity. "These last months haven’t been easy for any of us."
"Well, do sit down, darling. I'll ring Novella to serve us."
"That's not necessary Mother. We can do it ourselves."
Mother was unsure. "Well, if that's what you want."
"It is." I picked up one of the Minton plates Novella had set out, the beautiful Crown Darby colors shining amidst all the food. "I haven't seen this stuff in years, Mother. I forgot how elegant everything was. What can I get you?"
"Well, I suppose just one cucumber sandwich and
some tea."
"No pastry? No cake?"
"No, darling, I don't think so."
"There's enough food here to feed the Atlantic Fleet! You sure you don't want anything else?" I poured the tea and handed it, along with the single sandwich, to her, then began to generously fill my own plate. "I might just call this dinner, there's so much here. I'm sure the kids are having a wonderful time in the kitchen."
Mother raised her eyebrows over her teacup, as I heaped a spoonful of whipped cream over my angel food cake.
"My goodness, Kay, you're eating like you hadn't seen food in a week."
"I just forgot how good a cook Novella is," I smiled at her. "Mother, you know you never told me what you were like as a little girl. Isn't that strange? I mean, all these years we've been so at odds with each other that we never took the time to really sit down and get to know each other."
"If you intend on walking down the aisle with Marcus Henning, you best watch your figure my dear. The older you get, the harder it is to take that extra weight off. And any man who steals one man's wife wouldn't think twice about doing it again with somebody younger and prettier."
My jaw clenched. Just let it go, I reminded myself.
"My, that hit a nerve. You haven't done anything as stupid as get married again without telling me, have you?"
She's baiting you, I told myself. Trying to goad you into an argument. Don't take her seriously; she's just a lonely old lady.
"No, I haven't Mother. If I do we'll certainly invite you."
"I hope not. You've been married twice now. With your track record, you would think you learn to not do it again." Mother's words trailed off as she sipped her teacup daintily.
"Mother, would you shut up? You're going to drive me to drink!"
She hunched over her solitary sandwich. "I didn't mean to ruin our reconciliation," she said plaintively.
I took a deep breath and smoothed my skirt, trying to concentrate on keeping my promise to Novella to make peace with Mother. Was it a painful childhood that made her lash out at me? Obviously, something she wasn't willing to share with me. "That's okay. Let's talk about something else."
The Major's Wife (Jubilant Falls series Book 2) Page 14