A Thread of Truth

by Marie Bostwick

  She did, stomping her pink and gold tennis shoes and closing her bedroom door hard, not slamming it, but hard enough so I’d know she was mad at me.

  Margot was knocking again, calling my name. I opened the door, but only partially, wedging my body in the open space so she wouldn’t see the mess behind me, and casually raised my arm to rest against the doorjamb.

  “Hi, Margot.”

  “Hi.” She waited a moment, expecting me to invite her in.

  “The zoning meeting was a mess. Witnesses against Abbie’s proposal were lined up out the door. Everybody was interrupting everybody else, and the chairman was pounding the table, and then Dale Barrows came in carrying a petition signed by himself and everybody else who lives on Proctor Street. Franklin practically had to tie Abigail to her chair.”

  Margot grinned. “You should have heard what she called Dale’s last movie! Next thing you know, Dale started shouting that he’s going to sue Abigail for libel. Small-town melodrama at its best.”

  “Sorry I missed it.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded.

  “Anyway,” she continued, filling the silence, “it got to be too much for me, so I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing. Can I come in?”

  “Oh, not right now,” I said through the crack in the door. “I just put the kids to bed.”

  Of course, that was the moment that Bobby decided to fling open the door of the bedroom and do a victory lap around the family room, chanting, “Two points! Two points! Two points for me!” then run back into his room and slam the door shut.

  I looked at Margot—caught—and I dropped my arm down to my side.

  Margot peered past me into the disarrayed room, taking in the pile of suitcases and bags, heaps of discarded clothing, and drawers left standing open.

  “Oh, Ivy. Ivy, don’t,” she said softly. Her voice dripped disappointment. I felt like I’d been caught trying to sneak out of a restaurant without paying the check. “Ivy, don’t run away.”

  I stepped back from the door, letting her pass.

  “I’m not running away,” I said defensively, though of course that was exactly what I was doing. The enormity of the lie hung in the air. “I just…I can’t stay here, Margot. Not right now. Once this whole thing is settled, the divorce and all, then we’ll come back for good. To stay.”

  It was a lie, yet another one, but I wanted it to be true. Surely that should count for something, shouldn’t it?

  Margot just looked at me with that open, accepting expression of hers, a forgiving gaze that made me feel just awful.

  “Ivy, please don’t do this. Not now, after you’ve worked so hard and have so much to lose. If you run this time, you’ll never stop. It’ll always be like this,” she said, spreading her arms wide to take in the disordered mess at our feet. “If you’re not worried about yourself and what this will do to you, think about the children.”

  “I am thinking about them!” I was exhausted. I sank into one of the dining chairs and dropped my head into my hands. “I am. But what else can I do? I don’t have a choice. You must think I’m a terrible mother,” I whispered. “Maybe it’s true. Maybe I am.”

  She pulled up another chair and sat down next to me, dropping her hand onto my stooped shoulders and stroking my back the way I did Bethany’s when she was upset about something.

  “No! Don’t say that! I know how much you love Bethany and Bobby. You’d do anything for them.”

  “I do. I would. That’s why I’ve got to leave now! You don’t understand. If Hodge takes them away from me…”

  “Ivy, that is not going to happen,” she said adamantly. “Franklin Spaulding is a wonderful lawyer, one of the best in the state. Today doesn’t change anything. Your husband’s arrival on the scene may have surprised you, but it didn’t faze Franklin. He knew you’d have to face him eventually. That’s why he’s been working so hard with you these last few days, taking down your whole story and helping you build your case; because he knew this day would come. But, he’s ready, Ivy.” She leaned over my bowed back, close to my ear, urging me to have confidence.

  “Franklin knows every judge in the county and not one of them is going to listen to your story, hear what you’ve been through, and how hard you’ve worked to make a good home for the kids, and then decide to award custody of the children to a documented abuser instead of a wonderful, hard-working mother like you. You can’t run, Ivy! Not now!”

  I sat up, dry-eyed, and looked Margot in the face. “Margot, you don’t know me. Not like you think you do. No one does. You—all of you; Evelyn, and Abigail, and Franklin, too—you’ve been so kind to me. But I haven’t told you everything about me. It’s not that I’ve lied. What I told Franklin was the truth, almost the truth, but there are things I left out.”

  She sat up straighter and rested her hands in her lap, blank-faced, listening.

  “I’ve done things…things I’m ashamed of. No one besides Hodge knows about them. It was a long time ago, and I’ve changed since then, but if people knew about my past, if a judge knew, he might think the kids would be better off with Hodge.

  “I know Franklin is a good lawyer. If anyone could help me, I’m sure he could. But, Franklin doesn’t know Hodge at all. He’s…he’s got this power, this way of making people believe whatever he says, you know? I just can’t believe that a judge would believe my story over Hodge’s. And if he doesn’t…”

  Margot tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “You’re being truthful with me, Ivy, so I won’t lie to you. If you stand your ground and try to fight for your kids, it’s possible that you’ll lose them. I don’t believe that will happen, but I suppose it’s possible. Almost nothing in life comes with a guarantee. But, there is one thing I know for certain.”

  She leaned toward me ever so slightly and spoke in a flat, factual voice, with none of the tenderness of tone I always associated with Margot. “If you run now, you’ll never, ever be able to stop. And more than likely, Hodge will catch up to you someday. And when he does, when you’re all alone in some strange town without friends to help you, you will lose the children. You can count on it. And there’s something else. If you run now, you don’t just risk losing your kids, you risk losing yourself.

  “Don’t you see? You’ve run away from Hodge and you think you’re free, but all you’ve really done is exchange one kind of prison for another. The lies may have purchased you a temporary liberty, but in the end, only the truth will set you free!”

  Her eyes were open wide as if to underscore her ability to see things as they were, but it wasn’t that simple, not for me.

  Margot had faith. I’d known that from the first day I’d met her. In the beginning, it had kind of creeped me out. The way she talked so easily and openly about God and her faith, occasionally quoting the Bible to underscore a point, seemed just plain weird to me at first. And she was so sweet. I was sure it had to be some kind of act. No one could be that nice and that happy all the time.

  But as time went on, I realized she wasn’t selling anything. And she wasn’t happy all the time. Like anyone else, Margot had her good days and bad days. What was different about her, I finally figured out, was that she met every day with a kind of peace and assurance that I lacked. It was interesting.

  I liked Margot, but she didn’t understand what I was up against. How could she? It was obvious to me that we were from two different sides of the tracks and it didn’t take much to guess which of us was born on the wrong side.

  Margot was so sweet, so innocent. She didn’t know how cruel the world could be. Probably she was born into a big, loving family with a nice house in the suburbs and a fenced yard, daughter of a stay-at-home mom and hardworking dad who spent his Saturdays happily pushing a lawn mower or his children on swings at the park. A family who ate dinner together every night and went to church together every Sunday, the kind of Ozzie-and-Harriet fairy tale family I’d wanted for myself and my children, the family that, so many years ago, I�
��d believed would be mine when I married Hodge.

  Easy to believe in fairy tales if, like Margot, your whole life had been lived in one. Easy to talk about embracing the truth when doing so wouldn’t dredge up the shame, guilt, and pain you’d spent your whole life trying to bury. Easy for Margot.

  I pulled my hand away.

  “Margot,” I said angrily. “This is none of your business. Just back off and let me handle this on my own, all right? Where do you get off coming over here and telling me what to do? You, with your perfect life and your blind faith,” I scoffed. “Listen, I’m happy for you, Margot. You believe, and that’s great. Really. I don’t want to take anything away from that, but you’ve got to accept that belief comes a little harder to those of us who aren’t on God’s list of favorite children! You don’t know me. You never have. So I’ll thank you to butt out of my life!”

  I expected her to back away. Deep down, that’s what I wanted her to do. It would be easier to leave if there were a rift between us, if I could tell myself once and for all that Margot and I had nothing in common.

  She surprised me.

  “You’re right. I don’t know you, any more than you know me. We’ve each been careful to put on our best face for the other. Well, why not? We’re both grown-ups and we know from experience that you can’t trust everyone. You’ve been burned before in that department; so have I. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been as open with you as I might have. But, you’re wrong about me, Ivy.

  “My life isn’t perfect. Neither is my faith. There are times when I have doubts and, like everybody else, there are times when I carry around my own load of resentments. Sometimes I’ve been so jealous of you, I could hardly stand it.”

  “Me? You’ve been jealous of me?” The look on her face told me she wasn’t joking.

  She glanced toward Bethany and Bobby’s closed bedroom door, blinking back tears.

  “Ever since I was so high”—she held her hand out flat to a height a few inches below the tabletop—“all I ever wanted to be was a mother. I’d be a great mother,” she said earnestly and I nodded, knowing it was true.

  “That has been the deepest desire of my heart for as long as I can remember. I always figured that since God must have put that desire there, it was just a matter of time until he fulfilled it by giving me a husband and children.

  “College came and went. I left with a diploma in marketing and lots of men friends, guys who thought of me as their cute younger sister, but not even a hint of a proposal. But, I didn’t worry. I just packed up my car, moved to Manhattan, and took an entry level job in the marketing department of a giant corporation because I figured in that oceanic pool of potential Mr. Rights, at least one of them had to have my name on him.

  “Actually, it didn’t even have to be Mr. Right. I’d have settled for Mr. Good Enough. All I really wanted was a family. Is that so much to ask for?” she asked plaintively.

  “My twenties passed. I got three promotions, a nicer apartment, and bought a weekend cottage here in New Bern, but still no proposals, not so much as a glint of a diamond. I wasn’t too worried; I was still young. Besides, men in Manhattan seem to wait a while before settling down. I don’t know why, maybe they’re more career-obsessed than other people, or maybe the price of real estate makes them nervous about getting married and starting a family. Who knows? But I figured the guys I was working with would have to start getting married once they hit their thirties. And I was right. They did. But guess who they got married to?”

  “Women in their twenties?”

  “Bingo!” she cried, laughing even while wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

  “What’s with that? Anyway, you know the rest of the story. Here I am. Looking forty in the face and still no babies. So even after all you’ve been through, even knowing what you’re going to have to go through in these next months, can you imagine how jealous I’ve been of you and those two beautiful children?”

  Yes. I could.

  “Did you ever think of adopting?”

  She bobbed her head. “Oh sure. But it’s especially hard for a single woman. Not to mention expensive. I was actually pretty far through the process, far enough so I was starting to visit stores that carried baby furniture and talking to a contractor about knocking down walls to build a nursery. Then I got downsized, the victim of a flagging economy and a new department head who had a penchant for hiring newer, younger employees with what he called ‘a fresh, funky take on the heartbeat of what’s happening now.’” She rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound.

  “Yes, this is the wordsmith they promoted over me to oversee the writing of all ad copy and marketing materials for all our product lines.”

  “And let me guess,” I said. “These fresh new faces with the funky take on the heartbeat of whatever were all willing to work for way less money than people like you who’d been around a while and actually knew what they were doing.”

  “Right. So the new kids on the block were in and I was out on the street, pounding the pavement and trying to find a job in the middle of a recession. With no paycheck and no prospects for getting one in the near future, the adoption agency informed me that I was no longer considered a suitable candidate. They took me off the waiting list after I’d spent five years working my way to the top.” Her eyes were dry now. She sniffed and made a c’est la vie face.

  Poor Margot. I’d had no idea. My life was no picnic, but I did have my kids. They made up for a lot.

  It struck me that, for all my problems, there were good things in my life. And that, even though from my perspective she appeared to be leading a charmed life, Margot had known her share of challenges and disappointments, too.

  I realized that I’d been comparing the inside of my life with the outside of everyone else’s; measuring my own fortunes against the cheerful how-are-you-I’m-fine façade that people put on for each other. At least in a small way, everybody lies about who they are because you don’t have to be alive very long to understand that, in spite of what they say, most people don’t give two nickels for the problems of others. No one in her right mind is going to bare her soul to someone else unless she is reasonably sure that the person really cares and can be counted on as a true friend.

  I dreamed about having true friends, the kind you can trust with your most secret secrets, the way I’d dreamed about winning the lottery; it would be nice if it happened, but I didn’t really believe it ever would—especially since I never bought tickets. And as far as having a friend—well, I’d never bought a ticket for that, either. I’d always considered friendship too risky. Friends honored each other with their confidences, the way Margot was honoring me now.

  I reached out and took Margot’s hand. I felt awkward doing it, but I wanted her to know that I was listening.

  “And the thing is,” Margot continued, “as upsetting as it was at the time, getting fired was a blessing in disguise. I hated my old job, but it paid so well that I probably would never have left if they hadn’t made me.

  “I’m much, much happier living in New Bern than I ever was on the Upper East Side. And I love everything about working at the quilt shop. I love having contact with our customers, and getting to quilt and being around others who do, and, of course, I’m crazy about my wonderful coworkers.” She smiled.

  “The only drawback is that it doesn’t pay anything close to what my old job did. Not that I’m complaining. Evelyn is paying me as well as she possibly can, even a little more than she pays herself. New Bern is a lot less expensive to live in than the city, so I can pay my bills, but I don’t make enough to be able to adopt. Even if I did, it would take me years to climb back up the waiting list. By the time I did, the agency would probably think I was too old to be a mom.”

  Margot was silent, staring off into space at a spot somewhere over my left shoulder, thinking her own thoughts. After a moment, she exhaled deeply, as if consciously releasing old memories into the air.

  “Which brings me back to my
original point—I’m not perfect. I get jealous of people who have things I think I deserve to have but don’t, and there are plenty of times when my faith gets shaky, but in the end I always come back to it because it’s the only thing that makes any sense. When I look back over my life, I can see so clearly that God loves me and has always been with me. There are so many good things in my life, so many undeserved gifts, and so many times when something I thought was a curse from God actually turned out to be a blessing. I don’t know why God has not seen fit to give me a child, but in the end I believe that there is a reason even for that. It’s hard, but I accept it.” She smiled weakly and glanced at the bedroom door again. “Some days more than others, but I try.”

  “But, that just doesn’t make sense to me,” I argued. “If you want this so badly, and if you believe the desire for a child is something that God planted in you, then why doesn’t God let you have one? What could be the harm in that?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I wish I did, but God is God. He doesn’t have to consult me on His decisions.” She grinned. “Hey, not that I haven’t been known to look out my front window to see if there might be a burning bush out there from time to time, but so far—nothing. Maybe someday.

  “Maybe this will seem silly to you, but this is the way I’ve worked it out in my mind. Answer a question for me. What would happen if you let the kids have everything they wanted?”

  “Well, let’s see,” I said slowly, pretending to muse over the answer. “They’d never bathe or go to bed before midnight and probably they wouldn’t have any teeth because they’d have rotted out from the diet of straight chocolate and orange soda, not to mention a general lack of dental hygiene.”

  “Right!” Margot nodded eagerly. “Some of the things your children want are not in their best interests, but they’re children and don’t understand. They don’t have your wisdom or perspective. So sometimes, because you love them, you have to tell them no. Even if it means they get mad at you, even if it means they push you away and are angry with you, right?”