by Beth Graham
When I left my mom’s that day, I felt lost in an enormous universe. Everything became a blur. I tried to focus separately on each object. Every blade of grass along the driveway, every bubble in the concrete, the skin of my hands, my mother’s hands at the ends of my arms, unlocking my car door, gripping the steering wheel, turning the doorknob to my apartment.
IRIS looks at her hands.
Every wrinkle, every half moon on every fingernail, that telltale freckle. Mes mains. My hands are the proof. I am my mother’s daughter. This is all that I can see of her on the outside, but I think if you turned my mother and me inside out you’d find a lot more resemblances. The way we cry or don’t cry, the way we keep busy, the way we exist in the world. Maybe that’s why she relies on me.
IRIS takes the onion out of the freezer, holds it up.
And now for the ancient family secret, passed on from mother to daughter. The onion. L’oignon.
She chops the onion as she continues.
You pop the onion in the freezer for a smidge before you cut it up and then, for some strange and wonderful reason, it doesn’t sting your eyes. No tears. The reluctant Bernice taught me this.
My mom is so sneaky. She knows how to get what she wants. I’ll bet she left that prescription out on the table on purpose. She wanted me to find it. Then she told me her plan and let it lie. I stopped floating around and started to consider what she’d asked. My universe began to shrink back down and the blur slowly came into focus. It wasn’t an unreasonable request. Makes perfect sense, if you step back and look at it. So, I take a step back, and another and another and pretty soon I’m not just looking at it anymore, I’m living with it—the idea—the horrible, terrifying, suffocating, shitty, fucked-up idea! And how exactly do I do that? How do I live with that? How?
IRIS slams her hands on the counter, goes to her fridge, grabs the mouldy container, and holds it over the garbage, about to throw it out.
How? How?!
She stands, willing herself to throw out the container.
I don’t even like casserole.
She takes a deep breath.
In with the good air and out with the bad.
She drops the leftover casserole into the garbage.
Out with the bad.
Mom was right. I do understand.
IRIS picks up the butter.
And now for the butter.
Ah, butter, it makes everything better. A great big hunk of it, about one quarter of a cup.
She adds the butter to the bowl.
My mother called another family meeting.
IRIS sets out the salt and pepper shakers.
PETER enters.
She claimed it was because Peter was in town, so we all had to see each other.
PETER
Hey.
IRIS
Hey. Shouldn’t you be at work in another city?
PETER
Long weekend. Thought I’d come for a visit.
IRIS
Peter had been visiting Mom more often these days. I think it was because he felt a familial duty to see her as much as he could—
PETER
Before. . . you know.
IRIS
Like I said, my brother was the smart one. He’d done the math.
SARAH enters.
SARAH
Hey.
IRIS
Hey.
PETER
Hey.
SARAH
Okay, Mom. What’s going on?
BERNICE
I call this family meeting to order.
SARAH
I second the motion.
IRIS
I third it.
PETER
. . . I fourth it.
SARAH
What is going on?
BERNICE
Sarah, Iris, Peter. I’ve asked you here because. . . because I’ve been thinking about your grandmother a lot lately and about what she became. It wasn’t a dignified state of existence, it was. . . I wish I’d never seen her like that, and I don’t want my children to ever have to see their mother in that condition. It’s not fair to you and it’s not the way I want to be remembered. I don’t want to forget who you are. I don’t want to forget who I am. I don’t want you to have to. . . I’ve decided to exit gracefully. I’m going to end my life before I become a burden.
IRIS
As you can imagine, our reactions were varied.
Peter didn’t have much to say.
PETER
. . . (gently) Fair enough.
IRIS
Sarah, on the other hand—
SARAH
Wait. Let me get this straight, because I’m not sure—I’m just not sure that I heard you correctly. You’re going to off yourself?
BERNICE
I didn’t put it quite that way, but yes.
SARAH
And how exactly do you plan on offing yourself?
BERNICE
A bottle of sleeping pills.
SARAH
No! No, no, no.
IRIS
It was a valid response.
SARAH
No, no, no, no.
IRIS
Just different from mine, that’s all. She explodes out.
SARAH
no!
IRIS
I explode in. One reaction isn’t better than the other.
SARAH
No! No, no, no.
IRIS
Sometimes, I rely on Sarah to say what I can’t.
SARAH
No, no, no, no.
IRIS
That night, she said what I couldn’t say and then some.
SARAH
You can’t do this! Mom, you absolutely cannot do this.
BERNICE
Sarah, please.
SARAH
That is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard.
BERNICE
Calm down.
SARAH
No, I will not calm down. You just unleashed a shit storm. A shit storm of the utmost. . . Shit!
BERNICE
This was not an easy decision. I’m sorry you feel this way, Sarah, but it’s the right thing to do.
SARAH
The right thing to do? What the hell are you saying?!
BERNICE
I know this is hard.
SARAH
To even consider that—and to think that’s a graceful exit—graceful?
BERNICE
It is.
SARAH
It’s not. It’s not anywhere near graceful.
BERNICE
Sarah, believe me.
SARAH
I’m your daughter. You have children. You have a granddaughter and because of us, because of all of us, you have an obligation to live.
BERNICE
Honey, please.
SARAH
You can’t do it. I won’t let you.
BERNICE
Sarah, honey, I didn’t think you’d react like this.
SARAH
What did you expect?
BERNICE
Not this. When I told Iris about it she—
SARAH
What? Wait, wait, wait. What?
IRIS
Sarah.
SARAH
Told Iris? When?
BERNICE
The other day / she found a—
SARAH
(overlapping) You knew about this?
IRIS
Yeah, but it’s not—
SARAH
Why didn’t you tell me? I would have told you right away.
IRIS
I was going to but
then Mom called the family meeting, so I figured—
BERNICE
I wanted to tell you all at the same time, but Iris saw the prescription for the pills on the table / by accident and—
SARAH
(overlapping) I’m always the last to know! Always!
PETER
This is the first I’ve heard of it.
SARAH
That’s because we’re not part of their secret club.
IRIS
There is no secret club. It was a mistake.
SARAH
Was this your idea?
IRIS
What? No.
SARAH
I bet you put this in her head.
IRIS
I didn’t—
BERNICE
It was my idea.
SARAH
(to IRIS) You don’t do this to your mother.
IRIS
I didn’t do anything.
SARAH
You don’t do this to your family.
IRIS
Fuck you!
BERNICE
Iris!
IRIS
I didn’t do anything!
SARAH
That’s it. I’m done with you. I am not speaking to you.
IRIS
Good.
SARAH
Ever again.
IRIS
Great.
BERNICE
I didn’t plan to tell Iris before I told you. It’s just the way it / turned out.
SARAH
(overlapping) Where are they? The pills.
BERNICE
Sarah.
SARAH
Where are they?
BERNICE
Sarah.
SARAH
Where the hell are those pills?! Tell me or I’m going to turn this house upside down. I swear to god I will.
BERNICE
In the pocket of my robe.
SARAH
(exiting) Jesus!
BERNICE
Oh dear.
PETER
Whoa.
IRIS
Holy shit.
BERNICE
I thought she’d. . . I don’t know what I thought.
PETER
. . . I’m—I’m gonna go watch some TV.
PETER exits.
IRIS
(indicating PETER) You see that? Classic conflict-avoidance technique. Peter is the king of avoidance.
BERNICE
Now, what do we do?
IRIS
We? I am not getting in between you and Sarah. I can’t.
SARAH comes back with the pills.
SARAH
(dumping the pills down the sink) You’re not getting any more of these. I’m telling Doctor Funditis not to prescribe them to you.
BERNICE
I’m sorry, Sarah.
SARAH
That’s it.
BERNICE
I don’t know what I was thinking.
SARAH
You’re cut off.
BERNICE
Understood.
SARAH
No more.
BERNICE
Sarah, honey, I won’t do it.
SARAH
You won’t?
BERNICE
No. I won’t.
SARAH
Really?
BERNICE
I won’t. It was a stupid, selfish idea.
SARAH
Damn right.
BERNICE
Some days I get so desperate.
SARAH
(crumbling) Oh, Mom.
BERNICE
Shhh. There, there, honey.
SARAH clings to BERNICE.
SARAH
Don’t scare me like that.
IRIS
Sarah looked so little in my mother’s arms—a bambino, a tiny particle.
BERNICE
Shhh. I’m not taking those pills. I’m sorry.
SARAH
Mom. I need you. Heaven needs you.
BERNICE
I know.
SARAH
You’re her grandma.
BERNICE
Shhh.
SARAH
You won’t do it.
BERNICE
No.
SARAH
Promise?
BERNICE
Shh. I promise. Shh. Shh.
BERNICE continues to hold SARAH. SARAH remains suspended in the embrace. She does not hear the following conversation between IRIS and her mother.
IRIS
You’re lying.
BERNICE
It’s a necessary lie.
IRIS
My mother is a staunch believer in the necessary lie. It’s part of the whole poise thing. If you’re invited over to someone’s house for dinner and you don’t like what they serve, you lie and say that the meal is delicious.
BERNICE
It’s necessary.
IRIS
If your grandmother gives you a velour cat sweatshirt, you lie and say that you love it. Again—
BERNICE
Necessary.
IRIS
We all do it on occasion. But this. . .
Mom, I foresee this necessary lie coming back to bite you in your necessary ass.
BERNICE
I don’t want to go on living if I can’t remember my own child’s name or which drawer my pants are in.
IRIS
People forget names all the time. I won’t hold it against you.
BERNICE
Iris.
IRIS
And I’ll put labels on your drawers telling you what’s in them. That’ll take care of the pants issue.
BERNICE
Can you blame me?
IRIS
No, but I can’t blame Sarah either.
BERNICE
The trouble is, I’m too young for this. My body is healthy, so once my mind goes, you could be stuck with a crazy lady for decades.
IRIS
I could get used to crazy.
BERNICE
I’m not going to be a burden. No way. Sarah will just have to deal with it.
IRIS
I wouldn’t count on her dealing.
BERNICE
She will. She’ll have a giant fit and then she’ll get used to it.
IRIS
It’s the giant fit part that I’m afraid of.
BERNICE
Give her some credit.
IRIS
I wondered if I could ever get used to it. I crossed my fingers and wished for a miracle cure. I wished for one little pill to be invented. A pill she could take to get better instead of a bottle of pills for the alternative.
BERNICE releases SARAH from the embrace.
SARAH
No more family meetings. I can’t take it.
BERNICE
Okay. (kissing SARAH on both cheeks) Mwah. Mwah. Mwah.
IRIS
When Sarah left, she said goodbye to everyone but me.
SARAH
Bye, Mom. (calling to the TV room) Bye, Peter.
SARAH leaves.
BERNICE
She’ll cool down.
IRIS
Yeah, right. I should get going too.
(calling) Bye, Peter.
BERNICE
My bambino. Mwah. Mwah. Mwah.
PETER
Hey, wait up. Let me walk you to your car.
IRIS
We walked out into the night and down the driveway. The same driveway that we used to bake mud pies on in the summer, back when we rode bikes with training wheels and picked the scabs from our knees.
You’ve never walked me to my car before.
PETER
I haven’t?
IRIS
No.
PETER
Thought I’d mix it up.
IRIS
Sounds like you’re mixing it up an awful lot these days. Mom tells me you bought a motorbike and you’re jumping out of planes.
PETER
Well, not at the same time.
IRIS
Good thinking.
PETER
It’s all part of my “to do” list. You know, things I want “to do” before. . .
IRIS
You lose your mind?
PETER
I was gonna say before I die.
IRIS
Seems reckless.
PETER
It is.
IRIS
But necessary.
PETER
Uh-huh.
IRIS
You staying at Mom’s again tonight?
PETER
Yeah. Figure I’ll head back tomorrow.
IRIS
Cool.
PETER
Iris?
IRIS
Uh-huh?
PETER
Sorry I’m so awkward.
IRIS
You’re not awkward.
PETER
Yes, I am.
IRIS
So am I. . . What’s up?
PETER
Have you witnessed any of Mom’s. . . issues?
IRIS
Mom’s got a lot of issues.
PETER
Something happened last night.
IRIS
What?
PETER
Mom asked me where Dad was.
IRIS
Seriously?
PETER
Yeah. Mom was looking at that photo of Dad in the hallway and then she—
BERNICE
Where on earth is your father?
PETER
I didn’t know what to say but I had to say something.
IRIS
What’d you tell her?
PETER
I didn’t want to have to break it to her that Dad wasn’t. . . anywhere.
IRIS
So what’d you tell her?
PETER
I said:
He’s not here.
BERNICE
Where is he?
PETER
He went to buy some milk.
BERNICE
. . . Oh. Hm.
PETER
I think she knew I was lying.
IRIS
The milk line was pretty lame.
PETER
But she couldn’t find the truth. She stared at the photo for a bit and then she said: