by CW Schutter
Susan didn’t say anything. She found out more if she remained silent.
“Patrick and his blonde, stuck-up wife make a beautiful couple,” May conceded. “But they’re horrible people. I bet Patrick becomes president and CEO of the bank someday. People like always seem to get ahead.”
“I hear he has another son,” Susan said.
“You mean Steve,” May replied. “I only met him a couple of times. A little spacey and quiet. Him, I like.” May paused. “I don’t know what happened in ‘Nam. After the war he disappeared to Hana, Maui. I never see him anymore. But in my opinion, he’s smarter than Patrick.”
Not wanting to reveal she had been very good friends with Steve, Susan changed the subject. “How’s Mr. Duffy as a boss?”
“Wonderful.” May smiled. “A nice, generous man. Gives full scholarships to all his nieces and nephews in Boston, anything from private schools. college, or technical school. And, he pays for extracurricular lessons like in the arts or theatre. If I weren’t marrying Richard who wants to live in Kauai, I wouldn’t have quit. But I’m thirty-five. I thought I was going to be a spinster. This is my first chance to get married and I’m not getting any younger, you know.”
Susan worried she would never find a husband. She was afraid of ending up an old maid and being left alone. She feared growing old, no longer attractive, and unwanted. She wanted to love and be loved by someone who wanted a house, two cars, kids, and a normal life.
Meanwhile, life at home became increasingly difficult. Her grandmother died and almost everyone was relieved. Grandma had Alzheimer’s. The disease had required twenty-four hour care. Still, her father sunk into a depression after his loss. Susan had always been told her father was a momma’s boy. Her grandmother’s love for her father was so strong, she recognized only him at the end. Grandma left them a small inheritance which her dad used as an excuse to work less and gamble more. He also spent a lot of time in Korean bars, a new phenomenon that mushroomed all over Hawaii.
Out of curiosity, Susan once went to a Korean bar with a mixed group of friends. The heavily made-up hostesses plied the men with drinks costing double the price found at other bars and served them a fantastic variety of Korean pupus, free appetizers the patrons got with the purchase of expensive drinks.
“Ah, Eric, nice to see you big strong man.” A beautiful, slim waitress sat on Susan’s friend Eric’s lap and stroked his face.
“Again?” Susan and her friends giggled.
Eric turned red.
“He smart boy,” the waitress said. “Make a lot of money someday.”
On the next table, Susan saw a well-dressed man with a big belly put several hundred-dollar bills down the front of the dress of a woman sitting on his lap. The woman put her mouth to his ear and he slid a hand under the hem of her dress.
Going to Korean bars in Hawaii was an addiction to some, a ritual to others. It was rumored doctors, lawyers, plumbers, contractors, politicians, and businessmen, guys from every walk of life spent time in this dark world. She understood some of the women even managed to marry important professional men in the community. She heard of lawyers who left their college sweetheart wives for Korean bargirls. Many of the women were said to be experts at stripping a man of all his assets.
It embarrassed Susan to know her father went to these bars. What was more incredible was the fact her mother turned a blind eye to it. Didn’t she care? Did her mother even love her father?
Once, when Susan was nine or ten, she looked through her mother’s old photographs and came upon a picture of a handsome young Japanese man in his army uniform. She took the picture to her mother and asked her who he was. Her mother stared at the picture for what seemed to be a very long time. Susan couldn’t fathom the look on her face. Even now she remembered her mother’s curt answer, “Just someone I knew a long time ago.” Then her mother threw the picture in the trashcan and walked away. Susan picked up the picture and tried to make sense of it. Now an adult, she wondered if the soldier had been the love of her mother’s life.
Did most people have only one great love in their life? Or did most people fall in love multiple times? What kind of person was she? Like all teenagers, she had crushes in high school, but the only man she loved was Jimmy. Maybe. Did she love him? Or was their relationship more about friendship rather than a deeply intense feeling leading to a lifelong commitment? Nowadays it seemed like her generation changed partners like they did jobs. Would she ever feel the way people did in romance novels or was that kind of love fiction too?
She didn’t have a lot of time to think about romantic love because these days her father was constantly on her case. He hated all the haoles she dated. How could she tell her own father she didn’t want to be like her mother? She didn’t want to end up waiting hand and foot on a man the rest of her life. She liked having a man who was not only respectful of what she wanted but man enough to wait on her sometimes and found their physical and cultural differences fascinating. Besides, the perverse satisfaction she felt pissing her father off was almost worth tolerating her father’s verbal abuse.
Until the day he called her a whore.
She arrived home early one Saturday morning. It wasn’t the first time she had stayed out all night. Every time she did, she felt guilty and tried not to look her mother or father in the eye for days. But this Saturday was different. The moment she walked in and saw her father’s bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothes, she quickly assessed the danger in the situation. He must have lost money in an all-night poker game. Last night’s cigarettes and booze, combined with lack of sleep, had taken a toll on him.
“Where the hell have you been Miss High and Mighty?” he bellowed.
“You know I was at Deborah’s party,” she said as she tried to walk around him.
He blocked her way. “Who were you with at Deborah’s party?”
“My friends.” She tried to step around him again but failed.
“You were with another haole!”
Susan stiffened. Here it comes, she braced herself mentally. “Okay Dad, I’m dating a really nice guy who graduated from UCLA. He has a good job in advertising.”
“He’s nothing but a damned haole!” her father snapped.
“Can I go now?” Susan asked.
“You got no respect!” Spittle flew out of her father’s mouth, “You kids nowadays don’t care what your parents say or feel. You walk in at eight in the morning like there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Dad, I’m not a teenager anymore.”
“So, college girl, you think you know more than me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you think it. When I was your age, I had responsibilities, a wife and kids. You think going to college makes you smarter than me.” Her father shook his fist at her.
“Why do you always twist everything I say?”
“Now you’re saying I’m a liar?” Her father’s face distorted with anger.
“Of course not!” Susan shook her head.
“You think you’re better than me just because you graduated from college?” Mark took a step toward her.
“Stop it!” Susan covered her ears with her hands. “This conversation is crazy.”
“Oh, so now you’re calling me, your own father, crazy?” Mark pounded his chest.
“Dad …” Susan put her palm out to him.
“What right do you have to call me crazy?” Mark was yelling now. “My own daughter is a haole lover. You’re nothing but a whore.”
Susan stood rooted to the ground, frozen with shock. Behind her father, she saw her mother enter the room with her brother. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung open.
“As long as you live in my house,” Mark ranted, “I expect you to act like a normal, decent daughter. Not like a whore.”
Sobbing, Susan ran from the room before her father could hit her.
Mary walked over to Mark. “Don’t you ever call her that again,” she hissed before walking away
from him.
Mary felt his rage and heard him curse behind her. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to me that way?” Mark grabbed Mary’s arms and spun her around so hard she almost fell.
He was about to strike her when their son Harry stumbled down the stairs and took hold of his father. Harry’s eyes were filled with tears. “You touch her again and I swear to God, I’ll kill you!”
Mark removed his hand . Harry loomed over Mark.
Harry was not only bigger and stronger than his father, he was a national Tae Kwon Do gold medalist.
Mary nodded at Harry and walked out of the room to Susan’s bedroom.
When Mary entered into her room, Susan was crying and packing her bags.
“I’m leaving, Mom. I can’t stay. I can’t stand it anymore. Frankly, I don't know how you do it. I can't decide whether you're a saint or a masochist!” Susan snapped.
Pain crossed her mother's face and she was immediately sorry. She rubbed her eyes and put out her hand. "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to attack you."
Mary sighed. “Sometimes I wonder about myself too. But it is what it is. My generation doesn't believe in divorce."
"Your mother was a rebel. She ran away."
"And suffered the consequences." Mary shook her head. "Where will you go?”
Susan threw T-shirts into her suitcase. “I don’t know. To Daryl's, I guess. I don’t know where else to go.”
“From what you told me you just met Daryl less than two months ago."
"It would just be temporary—until I can figure things out."
"Don’t run and live with someone you hardly know just because of an argument.”
“You know I can’t stay. He called me a whore.” Susan’s hands trembled. "Anyway, you know this has been a long time coming. It seems we're always arguing. I won't let him slap me around again."
Mary hugged her. “I understand. But, why Daryl?”
“There’s no one else. Everyone I know lives at home, or with their boyfriends, or they’re married.”
Mary put her hand on Susan’s shoulder. “I don’t want you rushing into things.”
“Look, maybe he won’t even want me to live with him.”
“Wait awhile,” Mary suggested.
“Oh, Mom, how can I?”
“Look, I agree, your father is very difficult to live with. He still thinks of all of you as children. But he does love all of you.” Mary looked at her earnestly.
“He has a strange way of showing us his love,” Susan replied.
“There’s a condo I thought of buying as an investment. Maybe I’ll buy it and let you live in it and pay me rent.”
“Not the same,” Susan protested. “I’d still be dependent on you.”
“You have to go somewhere, right?”
“Right.” Susan sat on the edge of the bed.
“The condo is a good investment. And you can save me the trouble of finding a tenant.”
“Oh, Mom, you’re wonderful. I love you.”
Mary stroked her hair. “He doesn’t really mean what he says.”
Susan looked up “Then why does he say and do such awful things?”
Mary sat next to her daughter. “He gets mad and loses control of himself.”
“I know. He was never taught control as a child because Grandma spoiled him rotten.”
Mary frowned. “I never said that.”
“But all the aunties do,” Susan said.
Mary shook her head. “Try to understand him.”
“Do you?”
“I think so. We’ve been married long enough now.”
“I could never see why.”
“Susan!” Mary stood.
Susan shrugged. “It’s the truth. Why lie about it? Why do you stay married to him?”
“We’ve been married so long divorce would be more trouble than it’s worth.”
Susan grabbed her mother’s hands. “But you could still find someone and be really happy for once.”
“I’m too old. Change would be too much for me.” Mary kissed Susan’s forehead.
“So, instead, you just go on.” Susan dropped her mother’s hands.
“What else is there?” Mary cupped Susan’s chin in her hands.
Susan shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Mary sighed. “You see, my dear daughter, it’s not worth the effort to find out.”
George Han rifled through the monthly statements and leaned back with a smile. “Well, after a predictably slow season this fall, it’s gratifying to know that in December and January the Lotus Blossom did exceptionally well.”
Mary didn’t answer. She was staring out the window.
“Mary?” George asked.
“What?” Mary turned and looked at him with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t really listening.”
George leaned forward on his desk. He still felt protective of her even though she’d turned out to be a remarkably strong person with tremendous inner resources. Still, he couldn’t help but recall the pregnant young woman who stood on the sidewalk with rice spilled all around her. Waves of regret engulfed him and he reminded himself she was his brother’s wife.
“You’ve been distracted all morning. Is everything okay at home?” he asked.
Mary looked down at her nails. “Of course,” she said.
“Mark’s gambling,” he began.
“It’s under control,” Mary nodded. “Really, it is. You mustn’t be too harsh on Mark. It hurts his male pride that he has never been able to make as much as I do. I think it destroyed him. Mark wants to make just one big hit. It would make him feel more like a man.”
“You’re too good for him.” George shook his head. “You deserve better.”
“Don’t say that, George. He’s been good to me most of the time. Remember, he overlooked the fact I was kamikaze,” Mary whispered.
George averted his eyes. “That was a long time ago. Anyway, if his gambling isn’t upsetting you, what is?”
Mary looked at a picture of George’s family on the wall. George was dressed in a suit and sat next to his wife Sarah who wore pearls and a Chanel suit she bought in Paris. Mary remembered how proud she was of her new wardrobe from Paris. George's sons stood behind their parents looking somber and uncomfortable in the suits Sarah had forced them to wear. They looked like a millionaire's family. “It’s nothing, really. I shouldn’t even be upset. Susan moved out.”
“Kids nowadays want their freedom.”
“I suppose.” Mary bit her lip.
“Where's she living?” George asked.
“I put a down payment on a two bedroom condo near Iolani.”
George shook his head. “Well, I wish I could say the same about Jeff. I’ve come to the conclusion he’ll never leave. He’s a spoiled brat tied to his Mama’s apron strings.” George was disappointed in his son. To hear Jeff talk, his only problem was that the entire world conspired against him. Everything was always someone else’s fault. Could Jeff help it he was born to a father who went to prison and ignored and criticized him?
“I guess I’m just being overprotective.” Mary paused and looked at the ledgers. “Looks like the future projections for the tourist industry are great. I guess we can look forward to a good year.” She looked up.
“Yes, we’ve been lucky,” George said.
Mary shifted in her seat. “No, we’ve worked very hard.”
“That too.” George handed her the ledgers.
Mary took them, tucked them into a manila file folder, and stuck it under her arm.
George left his chair and came around the desk to escort her out. When they got to the door, he put his hand on her upper arm. Mary winced then quickly tried to cover it up with a smile.
“What’s the matter?” George demanded.
“Nothing. I banged into a wall and bruised myself.”
George frowned. “Let me see.”
Mary tried to move away. “It’s nothing, I tell you.”
“Let me see.” George shoved the hem of her sleeve up, looked at her bruise, and swore.
Mary flushed. “It’s no big deal.”
George leaned against the doorframe. “Did Mark do that to you? Don’t lie to me.”
“You don’t understand, George.”
“Understand?” George punched the wall. “I understand that you’re always making excuses for him. He’s an animal.”
“It’s not his fault,” Mary said softly.
“Not his fault?” George shook his head. “We’re not kids anymore. There’s no excuse.”
Mary cried. “If I loved him the way he wanted me to, things would be different. The truth is I married him so he would take care of Jackie and me. Back then, he was a good provider. But now I’m the breadwinner.”
“Only because all his business ventures failed,” George pointed out.
“But at least he tried. Even though it was a money drain, he tried.” Mary clenched her fist. It kills him that I work and support the family. It makes him feel less than a man. Maybe I should have quit a long time ago.”
“Working for me was always an option,” George replied. “So is divorce.”
“I had to think of my children.”
“They’re not kids anymore,” George said.
“In some ways, he’s been a good father. As for the two of us, we’ve settled into our relationship.” Mary dabbed her eyes.
“You know I love you,” George said.
Mary looked away.
George turned her face toward him and stroked her cheek. “I loved you as a child because you were kind and beautiful. I love you now because there's no one else as strong and good.”
Mary grabbed his hand by the wrist and held it away from her. “You’re thirty years too late, George.”
“We married the wrong people,” George said softly.
Mary stepped backward. “I love Mark. Not the way he wants me to, but I love him.”
George’s face froze. “Forgive me. I forgot myself.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Mary turned to leave.
“I'll always love you,” George whispered after Mary walked out the door.