“I’m so sorry, Donna,” she said, turning on the faucet and rinsing regurgitated peanut butter cookies down the drain.
Donna appeared at her side, and gently rubbed her back in slow circular motions.
“If you didn’t like the cookies, you didn’t have to eat them. You know I would have happily taken your share.”
Lily laughed weakly as a stream of tears ran down her cheeks.
Donna handed Lily a dampened paper towel.
“What have I done?” Lily asked her. “How can I fix this?”
“The first thing you need to do is break it off with Owen.”
“I know,” said Lily, blowing her nose on the towel. “I can’t believe I have to give them both up.”
“Both?”
“Owen, and my chance to sing again.”
“Well now, who says you have to give up the singin’?”
“What am I supposed to do, tell Owen I can’t see him anymore and then ask him to help me anyway?”
“His is not the only recording studio in town,” said Donna. “If you ask me, his place is kinda dingy anyway. We’ll find you a really nice place - something with class.”
“But I don’t know anything about how to do it - Owen was going to take care of coordinating everything.”
“You are a master at setting up barriers for yourself, you know that?” said Donna. “Remember that you have help. You have God, and you have me. Between the three of us, I bet we can figure it out.” She dampened another towel and dabbed at Lily’s brow. “And if you ask me, givin’ up Owen is the only way you can do that recording. No good song ever came out of a situation like that.”
“I beg to differ,” said Lily. “In fact, I think most of the best ones did. Anyway, what are we even talking about here, Donna? If I go to another studio, I’ll have to tell Joe what I’m doing, and he will never let me record a demo. I can barely sing around the house without getting teased and criticized.”
“You just never know,” said Donna. “You’re assuming that his heart is not capable of softening. I’d like to think that if you break it off with Owen, the Holy Spirit will honor you and be with you and help you by opening up Joe’s heart enough to let a little S-O-N shine in.”
The long lost thrill of possibility that Donna’s words aroused reminded Lily of the way she used to feel when Dolores was hatching one of her plans for stardom, a feeling that was soon soiled by disappointment and discouragement as Lily remembered Dolores’ death and the end of her dreams. The room started to spin and Lily felt lightheaded as she tried to wrest the idea into the framework of her life.
“I don’t see it,” Lily said.
“That’s why you have me,” said Donna, returning to her place at the table. “I can see it clear as day.” She took another cookie from the plate and dunked it in her coffee. “Let me ask you a question. I want you to think about it and reply as honestly as you can.”
“Uh-oh,” said Lily, joining her at the table. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Close your eyes for a second.”
Lily complied.
“Now imagine… we’ve figured the whole thing out, and you’ve got this amazing recording of that amazing song – all with Joe’s blessing. Can you see it?”
“You’re going to have to give me a minute here. OK, I can barely see it, but you’d better hurry up because this is not going to last long.”
“Now how do you feel about Owen?”
Lily pictured Owen’s face and to her surprise, for the first time, it did not arouse her or make her nervous. Her eyes shot open. Donna raised her brow.
“You’re confusing me,” said Lily.
“Good,” said Donna. “That means we’re getting closer to the truth.”
“Imagining it is all well and good, but in reality, I know Joe will not let it happen.”
“You don’t know that,” said Donna. “All things are possible for those who love Christ.”
The idea of even bringing the demo up with Joe gave Lily a stomachache. But maybe Donna was right; maybe Lily was reacting based on Joe’s past behavior. Admittedly the evidence to mistrust him was compelling. Maybe it was Lily’s recent recognition of her own capacity to act immorally, but she somehow now considered the distance between herself and Joe to be shorter, if only by a hair. She could see now as never before how one decision might lead to another and while none of them are significant enough to take you off course on their own, together they may get you lost. Joe certainly had spent the last several years lost; it wouldn’t do anyone any good if Lily got lost too.
Life sure would be simpler if Joe would just come around, if he could be supportive. It was almost too much to hope for... the two of them working together, sharing dreams, being friends. If Donna was right, if the Holy Spirit would bless her if she ended the affair, and helped her put her marriage back together, she could be free both of the fear she felt when she was with Joe and the guilt she felt when she was with Owen. She could be free of the shame she felt whenever she looked at her sons. And then, maybe she could finally start to live her life the way she’d always dreamed of.
She knew what she had to do. She would miss Owen’s touch, his adoration. Could she give that up? Wasn’t that the whole point of being a Christian in the first place – to make sacrifices out of love… to do what’s right even when it hurts? One thing was certain; she could never tell Joe about the affair. She would have to learn to live - and die - with the secret.
The next morning, Lily and Donna sat in the parking lot of Star Recording Studio.
“Ready?” Donna asked.
“No,” said Lily. “But I doubt I ever will be.” She wished there was a way to fast-forward her life and jump right to the part after telling Owen she couldn’t see him anymore. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll give you five.”
“Five? That’s not enough time, Donna.”
“You are not going in there to have a discussion, Lily. This is you telling him it’s over, and once that’s been said, well, there just isn’t anything left to say ‘cept good-bye now, is there?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am,” said Donna. “We don’t want to leave enough time for him to cloud your thinking and change your mind. Remember what we talked about – no physical contact.”
“Not even a good-bye kiss?”
“Not a good idea,” said Donna. “What would be the point ‘cept to rile both of you up unnecessarily?”
Lily placed her hand on the door handle.
“Repeat after me,” said Donna. “‘I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.’”
“I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me,” repeated Lily.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not.”
“Try not to think about it; just do it.”
Lily took a deep breath, opened the car door, and went inside.
“There she is!” called Owen from his office. “My little star… I’ve been counting the minutes!” He strode out to greet Lily.
Lily held her hand up, palm facing him. “Stop right there, please,” she said.
“What’s going on?” Owen continued to approach her.
Lily looked into his eyes and backed up, continuing to hold her hand out, but with her elbow now bent, a weakened attempt at keeping him away.
“Please,” she said. “I have something to say and I need you to stay right there while I say it.”
“You’re scaring me, Lily.” Owen took another step toward her.
Lily took another step back. She swallowed hard, hoping to clear space for the words that were forming a burning lump in her throat.
“Just let me do this,” said Lily.
“Oh, Lily – no… please don’t.” Owen’s eyes glistened with tears.
“I have to,” said Lily. “I’m sorry, but I have to.”
“Why?”
“A hundred reasons, Owen,
” Lily replied. “Because I’m married, because you’re married, because it’s a sin… because I can’t live with the guilt.”
Owen removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes with his fingers. “I thought we’d have more time.”
“Me too,” said Lily. “But it’s not going to get any easier later on.”
They stood separated by the pain and confusion between them.
“Shit!” Owen put his glasses back on and looked at Lily. “Boy, am I going to miss you,” he said, with a crack in his voice.
Lily looked over her shoulder out the front window. If Donna had not been waiting there, watching, she would have run into Owen’s arms, told him it was a joke, or a mistake, begged him to make love to her.
“I know,” said Lily. “Me too.”
“What about the recording?” asked Owen. “We can still do that. Can’t we?”
Lily couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she would be taking that dream with her when she left, and sharing it with Donna, and maybe with Joe.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I was hoping you would send someone else to record at church on Sundays from now on. It would be better if we don’t run into each other.”
“If that’s what you want,” said Owen.
“None of this is what I want,” said Lily. Tears ran down her face and dripped in through the corners of her mouth. They tasted sweeter than usual.
“Then don’t do this,” said Owen. “Let’s just find a way to be together – for real.” He took a step toward Lily and held his arms open.
“Don’t!” she cried. “I can’t.”
Donna tooted the car horn.
“Thank you for everything, Owen. Good-bye” she said, turning and walking out the door. I love you.
Lily ran out to the car, and jumped into the front seat. “You’d better get me out of here before I change my mind.” she said to Donna.
“I’m so proud of you, darlin’.”
“Go!” Lily shouted through sobs.
That night after a dinner of Chicken à la King, Lily stood at the kitchen sink and steeled herself for the next stage of the plan.
“Joe, I want to talk to you about something.”
“So talk,” he said, scooping up the last pea on his plate with a biscuit.
“I’ve decided that I’d like to record a vocal demo.” She reminded herself that Donna was “on call” next door, praying for God to guide her through this conversation, and would be waiting with tea and sympathy in the morning if Joe’s heart remained hard.
“What’s a vocal demo?” Joe placed his dirty dishes into the soapy water.
“It’s a sample of my singing. So people can hear what I sound like.” Lily scrubbed the white sauce from Joe’s plate.
“Why?”
“Just in case I ever get the chance to audition for a play or something. Plus, you know, it would just be fun.”
“So now you want to be a singer?” A grunt escaped from Joe’s throat.
“I’ve always wanted to sing, Joe - you know that. And I can be a singer and a mother and a wife. People do it all the time.”
“Where would you sing? You don’t belong singing in a bar - you’re a married woman.”
Don’t get sidetracked by the wrong argument, Lily told herself. Give it to him in little bites.
“I don’t have anything particular in mind.” Lily hoped her voice sounded appropriately casual; if he thought it was too important to her, he would resist. “Mostly, it’s just something fun that I’ve always wanted to do. It won’t take me away from you or the kids. And it won’t cost that much.” Lily had no idea how much it would cost. She would deflect that argument for another time.
“You have this beautiful home, you have me, the boys, your job of running the house. Aren’t you ever satisfied? None of my brothers’ wives ever get involved in that goofy shit.”
“I’m not using them as a comparison. From what I’ve seen, they are not exactly happy.”
“Oh, so now you’re not happy?”
“I didn’t say that, Joe. When did I say that?”
He didn’t seem to hear the question. A shadow passed over his face. “Well, boo-hoo.... little Miss Lily isn’t happy. Do you think I’m happy? Do you think I like working eighty hours a week and having nothing to show for it except bills, so you can have a nice house to live in? I hate that goddamn store, but I go in every day - and do you know why I do that?”
Joe was screaming at the top of his lungs, and had his finger pointed in Lily’s face. She did not anticipate that he would react so vehemently. She struggled to get her bearings and gain control over the situation, but all she could think about was that if this is how he reacted to this, what would he do if he ever found out about Owen? Trembling, Lily kept one eye on Joe’s hand and one on Pierce who had appeared around the corner and was hanging on their every word.
“Joe, please, calm down.” She glanced at Pierce, hoping his presence would inspire Joe to reel in his rage.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! Answer the fucking question: Do you know why I go to a job I hate, working for people I can’t stand? Do you?”
“If you’re not happy, maybe you can do something about that, you know? Maybe you can make some changes, find something you’d like to do, too. You have choices.”
“I don’t have any goddamn choices!” Joe pitched his dinner glass into the sink, splashing Lily with dirty water and suds. “I work because I have to take care of this family! And now you have the balls to tell me you’re not fucking happy?!”
Pierce ran forward, and fearlessly positioned himself in an attempt to break up his screaming parents, his contorted face wedged in the space between the belly that had grown him and the one that bubbled and boiled with rage.
“Okay, okay! We’ll get divorced!” screamed Pierce.
Lily and Joe both stopped shouting, mid-sentence. Lily raised her hands to cover her mouth, hoping to capture her cry of shame as it escaped.
“See?” said Joe, pointing down at Pierce. “Do you see what you’ve done? I hope you’re happy now.”
Lily stooped to pick Pierce up, as he reached his arms toward her.
“Oh no, you don’t,” shouted Joe, slapping her hands away. “You don’t get to come in and rescue him, now that you’ve completely devastated him.” Joe took Pierce into his arms.
“I want Mommy!” Pierce protested, his arms still outstretched toward Lily.
“Daddy’s got you, Pierce,” said Joe. “Mommy doesn’t want to hold you. She’d rather go sing.”
“Joe! Don’t say that to him!” Lily cried. “Pierce, it’s OK, baby. Mommy loves you. Daddy and I are just having an argument, that’s all.”
But by then, Joe was carrying him away. Pierce was wailing, fat tears tumbling down his cheeks, forming a darkened splotch on his father’s white cotton Oxford.
The following morning, Lily sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and trying to read the paper, her eyelids swollen and tender from a sleepless night of crying and angst. Joseph and Pierce watched Tom and Jerry cartoons in the family room while she replayed the conversation with Joe in her mind, wondering what she could have done or said differently, trying to discern at which point she had ignited his anger. She must have been crazy to think he would agree. Now she had nothing. She choked back enraged tears, hoping to control herself until Joe left for work, trying to hang on until she could run over to Donna’s – or until she got in the car and ran back into Owen’s arms.
Joe’s footfall beat down the stairs and approached the kitchen. He walked over to Lily and placed a business card on the table in front of her. It read “Black Rose Studio - A full service commercial and entertainment recording studio.”
She looked up at him. “What’s this?”
“That guy bought some office furniture from me a couple months ago. Maybe he can help you with your demo.”
Lily looked at the card, and then looked up at Joe. “Really?” she said. “Thanks.”
“I guess I’m just so shocked. You were so angry last night. I don’t really know what to say.”
“I didn’t mean what I said last night,” he said. “You just made me so crazy. But I thought you would at least be a little happier that I’m letting you do it.”
Every victory came at such a high price; Lily was exhausted from the battle. She forced herself up from her chair and walked over to Joe.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I am happy. Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek.
“That’s all I get?”
Lily kissed him again, and he placed one hand on her buttocks as he slipped the other one up the front of her pajama top and squeezed her breast. Still hurt, angry, and exhausted from the marathon argument, sex with Joe was not on her to-do list for the morning. But as he took her hand and led her up to the bedroom, she realized that if she wanted even a chance to fulfill her dream without any more fighting, she really didn’t have a choice.
From: Iris Capotosti
To: Lily Capotosti
Sent: Wed, November 24, 2010 at 8:27 AM
Subject: Be careful what you wish for
Dear Lily,
I don’t know whether these last couple of chapters make me more sad, or angry. Of course, I’ve never been good at anger – I do frustration much better. I can still feel my throat constricting and my heart racing when I recall that sense of utter helplessness I lived with back then, trapped in a situation I didn’t believe I had the power to change. How I longed for someone else to change it for me. Anyone, as long as it didn’t have to be me. My fairy godmother, perhaps. Or God Himself. Or if they couldn’t be bother, maybe Claudio or Max would do.
Seeing the story from here, I am at a loss to figure out what was going on with us. Why were we so convinced we had to stick it out? Wouldn’t it have been better for everyone if we had admitted that we had simply made a mistake getting married when we did, to the men we did? Maybe we had already invested too much love and time and work in our marriages. But it seems to me there should be a point at which you are allowed to reassess the investment and be free to cut your losses. Heck, even Mom gave up on Dad after 30 years and 12 kids.
The Complete Series Page 101