Ozzy Hetris came to his senses when he awoke on Sunday. Going from bedroom to bedroom, waking his children up so they could get ready for church, their Sunday morning routine was part of the plan for normalcy he put in place for the family. They went to church together, performed Saturday chores as a family, and did homework collaboratively around the dining room table. Every meal was cherished family time.
Each child had interests that Ozzy supported and participated in, from Tyler’s boat model building to Amy’s ant farm. He and Becky went to parent-teacher conferences for each of the children, where Ozzy took copious notes and then planned with how they could facilitate any changes that needed to be made. The little energy he had left was used to avoid his siblings and mother with a vengeance. Although for a minute he felt hopeful the last time they visited, it was short lived. He was going to tell Becky that was the last time. Even if they had to move from the area, he was not engaging with his family again.
Michael ran to the local deli for bagels Sunday morning and, on the way back home, saw his father and brother driving to church together with the woman from New York in the backseat. They beeped and waved, and it filled Michael with a good feeling, a sense of community that he lived where he grew up, and could see his family, albeit from a distance, often. Knowing Lily was waiting for him back at his apartment gave him purpose. They were going to sit down together and make plans to move her belongings into his apartment, surrendering his control of the interior design or lack of, in favor of her need to nest. He was also trying to control his appetite for narcotics, promising to go to rehab. It was a condition he agreed to in order for them to move forward. He’d gone two days without and felt pretty good so far; maybe he’d take up running, instead.
In the church sanctuary, Wally Morton sat next to his father and Esme, in the pew behind Ozzy and his family. Wally loved Sunday worship. Their church followed the old order of liturgy according to the Book of Common Prayer. It was something he could count on like clockwork, and it didn’t deviate or disappoint. He thought that was one of the reasons he loved Stephanie so much. She was old fashioned. Her desire to do the old crafts, the way she embraced being a homemaker when she wasn’t working, was comforting. They decided she was going to leave her job at the end of the fashion season. They’d already saved enough money, and he didn’t see the point in waiting any longer for her to be home or to start a family if that was what she wanted. Life was good.
Chapter 26
Ravenna race-walked along the frozen riverbank, batting at branches that got in her way, the freezing air burning her lungs. Rarely dreading anything to come, having to see Mike alone that night was petrifying. She wondered what was going to become of them now that he knew the truth. She’d refused to talk to him about it. He knew the baby wasn’t his because they’d never had sex. He’d protected her all of those years by never denying the baby was his. Peggy was purposely setting him up when she wrote the lies in those notebooks about Mike knowing where Maria was. Ravenna would be sure she told him that she believed him and not Peggy’s lies when she saw him again.
The other issue was extracting promises from her daughters that they’d keep Maria’s paternity to themselves. It certainly wouldn’t affect them at all, but it might hurt Esme. She might feel like she needed to acknowledge George Patos as her grandfather, rather than Mike. It would cause so much pain in the family if that were the case. She knew it wasn’t her place to try to control Esme, but she had to try.
Reaching a place where she couldn’t go any further without walking up to the highway bridge to cross the road, Ravenna realized it was a metaphor for where she was in her life. She couldn’t go any further if she stayed where she was. Needing to move forward, she could accept improvements in the way she lived so that her children and grandchildren were free to visit her without compromising their own lives and comfort. Maybe if the cabin was modern, Mike would want to live with her. Accepting this was a small accomplishment, but one that would be far reaching.
Curiosity about the homes of her children was new to her, sad that she’d never been to anyone’s house but Wally’s, and that was only because he lived down the road. Suddenly needing to tell Ozzy this, she walked as quickly as she could, hoping to catch him at home. A half hour later when she reached his house, the family was just pulling into the driveway from church.
“There’s Nicky!” Amy shouted.
Amazed, Ozzy slammed the brakes on, and Becky gasped.
“Oh my God, did she walk all this way?”
Hurrying to get their belts off and out of the car, Ozzy watched his mother as she waited on the walkway to his door, waving at him, smiling. Even bundled up against the elements, he noticed how youthful she looked. Suddenly proud of her in front of his children, he saw that she’d taken the time to put on lipstick and twist her hair into a bun before wrapping the scarf multiple times around her neck. Pride in her a contradiction, Ozzy was usually critical of Ravenna’s appearance, thinking that she couldn’t draw more attention to herself if she wore a feathered headdress and a leather jumper.
“Look how beautiful Nicky is today,” he said.
The kids paused to look. “She always looks nice, Dad,” Tyler said. “You just don’t notice because she’s your mom.”
Ozzy nodded at his son and smiled, ruffling his hair. Ravenna was his mother. “Yes, that she is,” he answered. “Nimaamaa!” Becky and the children stood aside, watching Ozzy walk to his mother, beaming. “You came to my house.”
“I did,” she replied, smiling. “I was down at the river, and I thought of you and wanted to see where you live.”
“Well, come in,” Ozzy said, his earlier resolve to divorce his family abandoned. “Let’s show Nicky our home.”
Becky opened the door, and the children stood aside as Ravenna slowly climbed the steps to their house on the hill, Ozzy following close behind her.
***
After church, Walter said good-bye to Mike. “Are you sure I can’t drop you off at Dexter’s house?”
“No, thank you, son. I’ll walk to my studio and call Dexter later to pick me up,” Mike answered. “Thank you for bringing me to church today.”
They embraced, and Walter left for home without him. Lingering to chat with other parishioners until Walter was out of sight, the walk down the hill to his apartment gave him the time to firm up his plan. The village’s dependable taxi service would provide the needed ride into Holland to catch the train to Chicago.
Walter dropped Esme off at the Green Leaf Inn. “So what did you think?”
“Well, it’s a beautiful church building, that’s for certain. The service wasn’t much different from what I’m used to except it was in English rather than Greek.
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said, opening the car door to step out just as Magnus Johnson came out.
“Is that big Walter Morton?” he called.
Esme ducked down to look in the car. “Magnus is asking for you.”
Walter rolled his eyes, but dutifully got out of the car to greet him. “Hi, Mr. Johnson, how are you?”
“What a coincidence! I’m on my way to pick up your father.”
Frowning, he was sure Mike said he’d call Dexter for a ride. “Okay,” Walter said. “I could’ve driven him to my brother’s house.”
“He’s going to the train station,” Magnus said.
“The train station? No way. He had a medical emergency yesterday, so there’s no way he’s going to the train station. Thank you for telling me, Mr. Johnson. Please keep our conversation private. I’ll head over there myself now.”
Magnus tipped his hat. “I’m sorry if I betrayed his confidence.”
“You might have saved his life,” Walter said. “Come with me, Esme. He might not argue if you’re along.”
She nodded her head, getting out her cell phone to text Wiley. They might have to delay their shopping trip. “Okay, but you know I’m not one of his favorites.”
“Don’t worry.
It’s nothing personal. We’re an odd bunch, if you haven’t noticed.”
She thought it kind of him to make excuses for the family on her behalf, but calling them an odd bunch was a mild assessment. Getting back into the car for the one-block ride to Mike Hetris’ artist studio, Esme wondered what had happened with the papers from George Patos and if Mike’s trip into Chicago had anything to do with it. One thing was for certain, the existence of the papers would remain a secret unless April chose to reveal it.
Becky Hetris and her children prepared tea for Ravenna. “Tyler, see if there isn’t a package of cookies in the pantry to serve Nicky.”
Ozzy led his mother around their house, pointing out Mike’s artwork as Ravenna studied the painting, amazed at how beautiful it was, ashamed she hadn’t seen any of his new work in years. The house was modern and light filled, built of light woods like maple. The decoration was limited to books and the paraphernalia a family needed to function.
“I like your house very much. It’s the antithesis of the cabin,” she said without cynicism.
Ozzy looked down at her. “Not really, Mama. The cabin doesn’t have anything superfluous. You decorated with your basket-weaving materials and food you put up. I like that very much. We don’t have anything that doesn’t have a use, either.”
She looked around again and nodded. “I can see that. It’s very peaceful.”
“Come have tea,” Amy said, taking her grandmother’s hand.
They walked into the kitchen together, Ozzy’s hand on Ravenna’s back, when his cell phone went off. It was Walter.
“I’m at Dad’s studio, and we might need you here. He was preparing to go to Chicago on the train.”
“Why?” Ozzy frowned, looking over at Becky.
“I don’t know. I think I need to get in touch with Mama.”
“She’s here,” Ozzy said.
“No way,” Walter said. “At your house?”
“Yes. Should I bring her there?”
“Please.” They hung up, and Ozzy went to Ravenna.
“Mama, Daddy was going to take the train into Chicago, and Wally asked if we could come over to the studio.”
Ravenna hadn’t been to Mike’s apartment in so long the thought of going there frightened her. She knew why he wanted to go to Chicago. He used to go all the time, at least once a month, to see George.
“He probably just wants to see his uncle,” she answered, like her heart wasn’t ready to jump out of her throat.
“Probably,” Ozzy replied. “But I think it’s too dangerous for him to go alone, don’t you?”
“He doesn’t want to hear that from me, I’m sure,” she answered. “No man would.”
The prospect that they might be confronted with the care of an aging parent frightened Ozzy. If anything happened to Mike…
“I thought he was staying with Dexter,” Becky said.
“Let’s get over to the studio,” Ozzy said, kissing his wife. “I’ll text you when I find something out.”
Ravenna was hugging her grandchildren good-bye. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”
Ozzy held the door open for Ravenna, but she hesitated.
“I don’t remember the last time I was a passenger in a car,” she said, apprehensive.
“I’ll drive slowly,” Ozzy reassured her. “I feel like Wally was nervous there with Dad, or we could take our time and walk down.”
He pulled out of the driveway, and nothing more was said until they entered the apartment. Ravenna saw Esme there, and her heart sank.
“Nicky,” Esme said, embracing her.
“It’s strange being here,” Ravenna said, turning to Mike. “I’m sorry we’re interrupting your plans.”
“Whatever,” he said, resigned. “My children are going to tell me what to do from now on because I needed a ride home yesterday.”
“Dad, that isn’t the case at all,” Walter said, but Mike waved him off.
“It’s not an issue anymore. Woman, what do you think?” Mike said to Ravenna, pointing to a series of new paintings hanging in succession.
Ravenna reluctantly turned from Mike to the canvases. They were beautiful, each one building on the theme of the one before it. The final canvas depicted a tangled web of leaves and intertwined trunks in the foreground, and then if the viewer looked more deeply, grounds leading to a cabin with the flowing river beyond.
“Is this the river view?”
He nodded his head. “Keep looking,” he said, urging her to make the discovery without him having to point it out to her.
She examined the painting carefully, and when she found what he was alluding to, she gasped, surprised she’d missed it before. He’d managed to put into one image all the things in life that meant something to her. In the middle of the flowing river, the granite boulder was firmly positioned in the river’s depths, and out of its center, an ailanthus tree grew. Its trunk twisted with a massive vine, the two twined together and reached for the sky. The animals Ravenna loved surrounded the tree, a fox hiding behind a branch, a turtle climbing up onto the rock, birds flying around the canopy, geese and swans, a heron swooping up from the water with a fish caught securely in its beak. The bark of the tree and its communication with the vine invited closer examination; that’s when Ravenna saw images of Mike and their children, faces advancing and receding as her eyes skimmed the surface, as if it was breathing air.
She spoke in an amalgamated montage of Greek and Ojibwe that only he would understand. “It’s so beautiful; I don’t know what to say to you, my beloved.”
“Thank you for my life,” he answered. “I cannot imagine what it would have been like without you. The other means nothing. I’m only sorry I didn’t know about it when I was younger so I could have killed him.”
Ravenna nodded her head, absently putting her arm around Esme’s shoulder. To her children, she said, “I think it’s time Daddy came to live with me on the river. I give you permission to fix up my cabin so he’ll be comfortable there.”
Mike laughed out loud while Ozzy and Walter murmured.
“At last,” Ozzy said, taking a deep breath.
“And Esme can live with us, if she’d like.”
“I’d like that, after my month is up at the inn.”
“And I don’t think you should go to Chicago, old man,” she said to Mike.
“No, I guess I better stay here,” he replied, resigned. “But I’m still coming back to my studio to paint. Either that or at the lake with Dexter. The cabin is too dark.”
“Okay, whatever you want,” Ravenna said.
“How will that be any different than what you’re doing now?” Walter asked, exasperated. “You’ll still be going back and forth.”
“Shush, will you, please?” Mike said. “Honest to God, a man gets no respect from his own family.”
“Eh,” Ravenna said, moaning. “Why do I stick my neck out?”
Ozzy snickered, and Walter laughed out loud.
“Make up your minds, whatever you’re going to do. I need to get back to my wife before she leaves for the week.”
“Take me home,” Ravenna said.
“I’ll call Dexter when I want to leave,” Mike said.
“Dad, you already pulled that card, remember?” Walter said.
“I mean it this time, wisenheimer.”
Ozzy laughed out loud, and they turned to look at him; it was such a rarity.
“I’m going shopping with Wiley, if anyone is interested,” Esme said smugly.
Ravenna hugged her again. “Good, give you something to do besides snooping around in my life,” she whispered.
“Sorry, Nicky. I couldn’t help myself.”
After they left Mike’s apartment, Ravenna went home with Wally while Esme walked back to the inn, fallen leaves crunching under her feet. Thinking how much life had changed for her in little more than a week, Esme wasn’t fully aware of how much it had changed for Ravenna. In her heart, Ravenna knew that she and Mike faced a rough road ahe
ad at a time when most couples their age were looking forward to days of peace and the gratification of a life lived.
There was so much ahead for Esme: moving in with Ravenna in a few weeks and learning to weave baskets, building relationships with her aunts and uncles, and spending time with Wiley. Her father would be there in two days, and she could only imagine how his presence would affect the interplay between her and the family; her steady, wise, thoughtful father. And as she approached the beautiful inn, Esme turned to face the calmly flowing Kalamazoo. In this idyllic town, a young Indian maiden had fallen in love with an artist, and their life touched her own. She allowed her tears to fall.
Mother, I wish you could see me, she thought in a silent prayer to Maria. You came from an amazing, complicated, crazy family. Thank you, Mother. Thank you.
The End
Forgiving Our Fathers
By Dick Lourie
for M.K.
maybe in a dream: he’s in your power
you twist his arm but you’re not sure it was
he that stole your money you feel calmer
and you decide to let him go free
or he’s the one (as in a dream of mine)
I must pull from the water but I never
knew it or wouldn’t have done it until
I saw the street-theater play so close up
I was moved to actions I’d never before taken
maybe for leaving us too often or
forever when we were little maybe
for scaring us with unexpected rage
or making us nervous because there seemed
never to be any rage there at all
The Liberation of Ravenna Morton Page 25