Erin’s face is white and wary. When I start toward Noah, she steps in front of him. “Mom. Don’t.”
That’s all it takes. I lose it. “Get out of here!” I scream at her boyfriend. To his credit, Noah moves Erin aside and faces me. “Get out of my daughter’s bedroom and out of this house. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. I—”
“If I ever see your face here again, I’ll—” I pause for a breath, feel Nathan’s hand on my arm, shake it off. “I’ll have you thrown in jail. Don’t think I won’t. She’s a minor, did you know that? She’s a minor, and I could get you into a lot of trouble, young man.”
Now Erin’s screaming back at me, crying and screaming words that don’t penetrate the roar of anger and fear and worry in my head. And then there’s Mother, her arm around Erin, tears in her eyes, saying, “Don’t do this, Cecilia,” and Oliver behind her, his hands on her shoulders, and behind me, Nathan’s on mine.
The roar subsides enough that I finally hear Erin.
“We fell asleep,” she screams. “We were watching a movie.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I scan her clothing. “Look at you.” She wears a T-shirt, no bra, baggy flannel drawstring sleep pants.
Erin crosses her arms. “Believe what you want. I don’t care anymore.”
“How can I believe you, Erin, when photos show up in a tabloid of you dressed like a slut, out at some bar, and you refuse to even talk to me about it?”
Mother tightens the belt of her robe and shakes her head at Erin. “Oh, Sugar. You didn’t tell her?”
I go still. Mother knew? They kept this from me together? I can’t say anything, can only stare at them both, feeling like I might explode into a million tiny pieces and splatter the walls.
“Okay.” Erin bites her lip, pushes hair from her eyes. “You want to know? I’m in a band.” She glances at Noah. He looks like he might pass out. “It’s called Cateye, and I’ve been sneaking out a couple of nights a week to play at a club called The Beat. They pay us, Mom, and I’m saving the money so I can move out of here in the fall when I go to college. So I can get away from you and finally have a life.”
So she can get away from me. A fist in the stomach would’ve felt like a kiss compared to those words. “You’re not eighteen. How do you get into a club?”
“I have a fake ID.”
I narrow my eyes at Noah.
“He didn’t get it for me, Mom. Judd did. Do you want me to call him so you can yell at him, too? No guy is ever going to be good enough for me, is he? You told me that once. I should’ve known you really meant it. You’ll never let me go. Never. You just want me to stay here and hide, scared of everything, suspicious of everyone, bitter and mad at the world. Like you.”
“We used to talk.” I choke back tears, my voice quiet now. “What happened?”
“You stopped hearing me, Mom.”
Nate rubs my shoulders as I take deep breaths to steady myself. “I just want to know one thing. Did the two of you use protection?”
“See? You’re not hearing me now.” Erin looks up at the ceiling. “We fell asleep watching a movie.”
“Answer me, Erin. Did you use protection?”
“We would’ve if we’d done anything. How about you two?” She pokes a finger at Nate and me. “Did you use protection?”
I feel Nate tense, and shame washes over me. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”
Mother steps between us. “Now Erin, Cecilia—”
“You knew about this, didn’t you? You knew Erin was sneaking out of the house.”
Mother shifts a nervous glance Oliver’s way, then meets my gaze. “We’ve been following her, making sure she’s not in any trouble. I—”
“You had no right to keep this from me. She’s my daughter—”
“I was wrong, I know that now. I urged Erin to tell you, Sugar. But I guess I should’ve given her an ultimatum to either tell you, or I would. You just made it so difficult for her with your overprotective—”
“Don’t you sugar me. So, I’m overprotective? Maybe if you’d been a little more overprotective of me when I was her age, things would’ve been different. Maybe—”
“CiCi…” Oliver clears his throat. “I’ll ask that you not talk to your Mother with that tone.”
I turn on him, glaring. “You’re not my father. I’ll talk to her however I want.” Returning my attention to Mother, I say, “You and Erin have been conspiring against me, haven’t you? What are you trying to be, Mother? Her friend instead of her grandmother? Look at you and that horny old man…acting like a couple of teenagers. What kind of example is that?”
Everyone glances from me to Nate and back. My knees go weak. So. I get it. I’m a bad example, too. They’re right. One night. I slip up once, and look what happens.
I draw a breath. “At least I didn’t stand back like you did and watch without saying a word while my seventeen-year-old daughter, your granddaughter, let her raging hormones overrule her good sense.”
“Shut up!” Erin screams. “Leave her alone! I told you we didn’t do anything.” When Nate steps forward, she points at him and adds, “And you aren’t my father, so you keep out of this.”
The hallway goes quiet except for the sound of staggered breathing and tears. Mother’s the first to break the silence.
“I’ve made mistakes, I admit that.” When I start to interrupt, she lifts a hand. “I’ll have my say. I’m seventy-five years old, and I’ve earned the right to speak my mind. I’ve been quiet too long, hinting and encouraging and hoping for the best for you, Cecilia. For you and for Erin. Well, I’m through beating around the bush.” She blinks again and again, her eyes tired and misty. “I’ve learned some things over the years, through trial and error. Oh, yes, CiCi, we made lots of errors, your father and I. I’m well aware of that. We weren’t perfect. But blind as I am, I see some things more clearly now that I’m an old woman. And here’s what I see.”
She links her fingers with mine. I don’t pull away, just stare at her knuckles, the protruding blue veins on the back of her hand, her long, thin fingers. Fingers exactly like mine.
“You’ve allowed Bert’s escapades and your own regrets to make you close-minded and cynical. Terrified of life. That attitude, my darling, will sabotage not only your relationships with the people you already love,” she glances at Nate, “if you let it continue, it will sabotage any chance of a new relationship with a man, as well. Don’t you see that? Don’t you understand that you’re hurting yourself? Hurting Erin?”
I can’t speak; I can only stare at our joined hands.
“You’ve been unwilling to accept Oliver in my life or Noah in Erin’s because you’re afraid. Isn’t that true?”
I tuck my lower lip between my teeth, look up and into my mother’s gentle eyes. I am afraid. Afraid of losing them, of being alone. Afraid they’ll get hurt. And that I will, too. Again.
“Mother…I haven’t been fair to you. I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “It’s just so hard to see you with a man who isn’t Daddy. And I can’t stand the thought of you caring so much for Oliver then losing him, too, some day.”
She squeezes my fingers as I turn to Erin. “I’m scared to death you’ll repeat my mistakes, that you’ll fall in love too soon, before you’re ready. That he’ll be the wrong person, and you’ll end up shattered, like I was.”
Tears stream down my daughter’s face. Her brows pull together, and her eyes are filled with so many questions. When we’re alone, I’ll have to tell her about Craig, the boy I loved before her father. And maybe, too, about the baby we lost. That’s a decision I’ll have to make soon.
“So I guess that in my attempt to protect you, I’ve gone overboard with restrictions. But it backfired. It forced you to take foolish risks to get what you want and need. What you deserve. The chance to grow up.” I take a breath. “But we need some middle ground, Erin. You can’t just run wil
d, doing whatever you please, no matter what.”
Erin nods.
“We can get through this, Cecilia,” Mother says. “All of us. Together.”
I want to. So much. I don’t want to be the woman my mother described. I’m tired of being unhappy. Closed off. I don’t want to push my family away. I need them now more than ever.
A sob escapes me as Erin steps toward us. She takes her grandmother’s free hand in one of hers, then mine in her other. We form a circle. And I have hope. With their help, I can move on. And let them do the same.
After Oliver and Nathan leave, Mother makes coffee. Then, despite Erin’s horrified protests and Noah’s cringing embarrassment, the four of us sit down to discuss the responsibilities and risks involved in having sex at any age, but especially as teenagers. Maybe they aren’t sleeping together, as Erin has implied, but I still have my doubts. Either way, it won’t hurt for them to listen to the facts for an hour, instead of their hormones.
Stars still wink in a navy blue sky when Noah leaves on his cycle. Shivering, I stand on the front porch and watch him drive away. I’ve realized in the past hour that he’s a nice kid; I should’ve known that all along. Should’ve trusted that my smart daughter wouldn’t care so deeply for anyone who didn’t have a good heart.
Despite the cold, I don’t go in for a while. I hug myself and watch the horizon. When morning dawns, so does the truth, and I accept it. My daughter is growing up and must be allowed her own mistakes and triumphs. My mother has found true love again. Their lives are changing and so is mine. I think of my evolving counseling practice, of what happened last night with Nate, and smile.
For the first time, excitement trickles through me as I wonder about my future, the next chapter of my life. Some of it won’t be written by my hand; I know that. But most of the blank pages are for me to fill.
However I choose.
CHAPTER 25
I have plenty of time to reflect during my flight to New York City, but I’m too nervous and excited to take advantage of it. So I just sit back and endure the bumpy ride.
Bill Burdette, on the advice of his legal counsel, declined an interview. Everett left the decision up to me. He thought telling my side of the story couldn’t hurt, and Nate agreed.
So, here I am.
LIVE With Regis and Kelly put me up for the night at the Omni Hotel. At 8:00 p.m., I meet Sela Summers, author of Penelope’s Passion, in the lobby, and we go to dinner at Tavern on the Green. We’ve become phone friends over the past three weeks, and I find I like her even more in person. She’s smart and ambitious, yet friendly, funny and down-to-earth, too. Sela’s giddy over her newfound success, and thanks me with every other breath. Last week, she sent each member of the Parkview Reading group a copy of her new release, Irma’s Indiscretion.
The next morning, a limo picks us up and takes us to the studio. After that, everything’s a blur of excitement until, finally, Sela and I walk onstage serenaded by music.
Regis is funny and warm and witty, while Kelly is gorgeous, enthusiastic and funny, too. Soon I’m at ease, or at least as calm as I’m going to get while on national television. Anyway, I’m relaxed enough to enjoy the conversation with Sela about her book.
I expect jokes about the sex at Parkview, and sure enough, they soon begin.
“Can you blame the residents?” Regis asks. “What would you choose? Shuffleboard or steamy sex in a gazebo overlooking a pond?”
“But the temp that day in Dallas was close to freezing!” Kelly shivers. “Talk about shrinkage!”
The audience roars.
“They had to do it someplace cold to stay awake,” Regis says. When Kelly slaps his arm, he continues, “Come on! The couple were in their eighties, for crying out loud! They need their rest.”
I take my cue from Sela who, when teased about the sex in her book, laughed, then set the record straight.
“Like Sela’s novels, what happened at Parkview was about relationships, not sex. It had everything to do with human needs, no matter a person’s age.”
I tell them how Mother came to live with Erin and me after Bert and I separated. How we are three women at three different stages of life with three different sets of issues and points of view. How, despite all that, I’ve discovered in our hearts, where it counts, we’re as much the same as we’re different on the surface.
“Through my mother and my daughter, I’ve come to understand that it doesn’t matter if you’re young, middle-aged or older, people are alike at the core. Everyone has dreams, fears and desires. Everyone needs love, laughter and acceptance. None of that stops just because children grow up and leave, hair turns gray or faces wrinkle.”
Heads nod in agreement all around.
“Life is full of risks, and love is one of them. But, at seventeen or seventy-five, it’s a risk worth taking, don’t you think? People should be allowed to live until they die, not just exist.”
The audience claps. So do Regis and Kelly and Sela.
I feel vindicated.
Sela puts an arm around my shoulders. “I just wish the grown children who filed the lawsuit against you and Parkview Manor would realize the same truth about their own parents. If a steamy novel, be it mine or someone else’s, added romance to their lives, that’s great!” She relates a quick story about her own mother starting to date after being a widow for the past two years.
Kelly mentions hearing that my counseling practice nose-dived when the so-called scandal hit the news, and I explain that, though I did lose prior clients, I gained new ones, that senior citizens from all over the Dallas metroplex and beyond have been making appointments.
I face the camera and take a deep breath. No one knows the decision I’ve made. Not Nate, not Mother, not Willa, Erin or any of my friends. I didn’t know it myself until right this second. “In fact,” I say, “I’m shifting the focus of my practice away from marriage and family therapy. From now on, I plan to address the needs and concerns of senior citizens exclusively.”
A week later, it snows. Fat, wet flakes fall during the night, and Mom, Erin and I awake on a Saturday morning in early February to a sight seldom seen in Dallas: the city blanketed in pristine white.
As we drive to Cleburne in the afternoon to attend a wedding shower for the daughter of a family friend, we discuss my new weekly radio show, Sex and the Senior, which will air in selected markets starting in the fall. I’ll take calls and answer questions on issues affecting senior citizens. After my appearance on LIVE With Regis and Kelly, I received offers of every kind. The radio program worked out best for me since I can do it from a Dallas station and still maintain my practice.
Sue Kiley, Donald Quinn and the other plaintiffs dropped the lawsuit against Parkview Manor and me. Though no one ever said, and I didn’t ask, I can only assume they saw me on television, too.
We arrive in Cleburne early. I ask Mother, who sits across from me, if she’d like to drive by the old house. At first she says “no,” then changes her mind. She’s been quiet most of the drive, listening to Erin and me talk, not adding much to the conversation. As we turn into the old neighborhood where I grew up, where she lived with Daddy for so many years, I find out why.
“Did I tell you Oliver asked me to marry him?” Her words are spoken casually, but I notice her head trembles, that her hands are restless in her lap.
For weeks, I’ve dreaded hearing this news. But I don’t feel the resistance I expected, the need to stand up for my father, the fear of this major adjustment ahead in my mother’s life. And mine. I imagine her living the rest of her years with Oliver. Somehow, it seems right.
I turn to her with a little laugh of surprise, then look back at the road. “No, you didn’t tell us that.” Emotion wells up in me. I smile at her. “Oh, Mom…”
“Nana!” Erin squeezes between the bucket seats and gives her grandmother a hug. “When’s the wedding?”
Mother blushes and blinks. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
Th
e uncertainty in her voice alarms me. Is this thing with Oliver just an attempt to help her through her grief over Daddy? “Maybe it’s too soon, Mother. It’s only been a little more than a year since Daddy died.”
She shakes her head. “It isn’t too soon, Sugar. I’m ready.”
I turn the corner onto our old street. “So, you love him?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, what are you waiting for, then? If it’s my blessing, you have it.” I take one hand from the wheel and cover hers on the seat between us.
“Mine, too,” Erin echoes.
Mother’s eyes mist. “I know this isn’t easy for either of you. If I marry Oliver, things will be different for all of us, I won’t pretend otherwise.”
“What do you mean, Nana?”
“Well, holidays for one. It won’t be only our traditions anymore. I’ll have to embrace his, too, of course. And his children, as difficult as they sound, they’ll be a part of my family, too. Then there’s—”
“Mother…” I squeeze her hand. “Everything’s already different. Life changes all the time. We can either adapt, or we can be unhappy. I’ve spent way too long nursing misery. From now on, I plan to adapt. But if you’re not sure about Oliver, then please, please, don’t marry him.”
“Oh, I’m sure about him.” She looks down at her lap. “It’s myself I question. Am I wrong to love him? I feel as if I’m betraying your father.”
“If you are, then so am I. I care for Oliver, too. Not that I didn’t fight it.” I laugh. “The sneak. He has a way of working his way into your heart, like it or not.”
She laughs with me as I pull to the curb in front of the house. Still, I sense she’s not convinced.
“You’re not wrong, Mother. You have to go on. We all do.”
“So,” Erin says when the silence stretches too long, “When are you gonna say ‘yes’?”
Mother sighs. “I wish I knew. It’s your grandfather I’m waiting on. I talk to him, you know. All the time. Through letters. I asked him for—”
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