No Time To Blink

by Dina Silver

  Serine’s face lit up when I walked into the foyer with the baby.

  “Oh my, she is beautiful.” Her eyes were teary.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Serine took a step closer. “How are you, CC?”

  “I’m good. Glad to be home.”

  “I know Gabriel misses you both terribly.”

  I placed my lips on Ann Marie’s head and said nothing.

  “May I hold her?” she asked, and Jessie appeared out of nowhere.

  “Please come sit in the den. Can I pour you a drink?” Jessie offered.

  “That would be great,” Michael said. “A seven and seven, please.”

  “Have a seat and I will bring it in.” She gestured with her arm for us to leave the entryway.

  Once we were seated in the den, I placed Ann Marie in Serine’s lap. “She’s a really good baby,” I said.

  Serine smiled and cooed, and I waited for her to say that the baby looked just like her father, but all she did was say how beautiful she was. “Thank you for letting us meet her. I’m sorry we didn’t call ahead. Michael was in the neighborhood, and I thought you wouldn’t mind if we stopped in. I’ve been waiting for some new pictures, and this is so much better.” She looked at me. “Have you spoken to Gabriel?”

  Serine and Gabriel hadn’t communicated much over the past year. She’d phoned when the baby was born to congratulate us, and he’d called her a couple of months later on her birthday, and that was the extent of it. But it wasn’t lost on me that she would’ve been one of the first people he would’ve contacted when he found out I wasn’t coming back. I was only surprised it took this long for her to be “in the neighborhood.”

  “I have, yes.” I sat on a chair opposite the couch where she and Michael sat. Jessie breezed in with his cocktail and placed it on the coffee table with a coaster underneath. She walked out, but I could sense she was lurking in the hallway.

  Serine exchanged a glance with her husband. “We were sorry to hear that things didn’t work out.”

  I winced a little. Probably every guest at our wedding dinner was whispering behind our backs and taking bets on how long an elopement like ours would last, having known each other for such a short time. Who were we kidding thinking love and passion could conquer all? I wasn’t naive to people’s comments and gossip, and I didn’t believe that every cloud had a silver lining, but mine did. And Serine was holding her.

  “I guess the cards were stacked against us. I still care about your brother,” I said, tapping into the memories of my wedding that were at the top of my mind. “But we are just very different. We share this amazing little girl, though, and he will always be in our lives.” I was disappointed by the sound of my own voice. It was meek and passive and not at all representative of how I felt about my husband, but it wasn’t the right time to vent, and certainly not the right audience.

  They stayed for about thirty minutes and were just about to leave when my mom walked in the room. She was still in her afternoon tennis outfit, and Jessie came in with a martini for her just as she took a seat. It was like a well-choreographed play.

  Act One: Estranged family members enter the home uninvited. Tensions stir. Decisions are made. Escape plans thwarted. All parties gather and converse.

  Act Two: The mistress of the house blows in after a long afternoon of physical exertion. Her housekeeper has her cocktail ready for her as she enters the room and is forced to confront the estranged family members.

  Act Three: Tension ensues.

  Michael stood and gave my mother a kiss on the cheek.

  “How are you both?” Mom asked.

  “Happy to meet our niece after all this time.”

  “As are we,” Mother said, and I wanted to kiss her myself. Serine was likely oblivious to my mom’s contempt for her brother, since Mother was a champ at masking her disdain. But where Serine was ignorant about my relationship with Gabriel and his attempts to ban me from leaving the country, Mother was not.

  “Her father and I are thrilled to have them back,” Mom said.

  Serine forced a smile. “I’m sure you are. How lovely to have her named after you.”

  Mom smiled. “Will you be staying for dinner?” she asked in a tone that clearly implied the opposite.

  Michael shook his head. “No, thank you. We’ve got to be heading back.”

  My sister Margaret walked in and waved to them. “Jessie said I should get the baby. She needs her bottle.”

  Serine handed Ann Marie off to her. “It must be wonderful to have all this help.”

  I nodded. “It is.”

  Two months after Serine and Michael’s visit, I got a telegram from Gabriel asking for permission to come see the baby and me, bring her a birthday present, and sign the divorce papers in person.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  CATHERINE

  Greenwich, 1972

  My desk was littered with loose pages from my photo album and rolls of Kodak film waiting to be developed. I was trying to put together a book of pictures for Ann Marie’s first birthday. A tin of hand cream sat next to a glass tumbler with flat Coca-Cola from three days ago. In the center of it all was Gabriel’s Western Union telegram.

  I will arrive on Thursday, March 30, to prepare documents for divorce in America. Please allow me to see Ann Marie and say a proper goodbye.

  It is all I ask.

  I lifted the thin piece of paper, read it again, and placed it facedown on my desk. He was arriving that day, and I needed to muster all the strength I had to be strong for my mother and my family and my little girl. I closed my eyes for a moment to calm my nerves. The day could not have ended fast enough.

  “Jessie!” I called for her. “When you have a second, could you please bring Ann Marie up here?”

  “Of course,” I heard her say from the hall.

  “Thank you.”

  I walked through my bathroom and took the back stairwell down to the kitchen. Our kitchen was quite spacious and equally quite yellow. Pineapples on the wallpaper, yellow appliances, and yellow gingham drapery adorned the windows above the sink that overlooked the yard. In the center of the room was a rectangular butcher-block table, and at the opposite end near the doorway leading to the butler’s pantry was a large circular breakfast table with seating for ten and a brass chandelier that hung from above. Mother was seated in her usual spot, having coffee and reading the morning paper with rollers in her hair while a smoldering Virginia Slims teetered on the edge of an ashtray next to her.

  “Good morning, darling.”

  “Morning, Mom.” I reached up into the cupboard for a mug and poured myself a cup.

  “The sugar is here on the table,” she said. “Mary Grace was putting spoonfuls of it into her cornflakes.”

  “OK, thank you.”

  “How are you feeling?” She lowered the newspaper and looked over at me.

  “Very nervous.”

  “Well, we all are. It’s a full house today, what with your sisters off for spring break and your father home, too. He said he wouldn’t head into the office until after Gabriel signed the papers and left.”

  I took a deep breath. “That’s nice of him, but he doesn’t need to stay here. It’s going to be very brief, and I don’t want to make a scene. I feel like Dad will only say something that will upset the situation.”

  “Well, it’s a decision he’s already made, so that’s the end of it. Don’t forget the Cunninghams are coming for dinner tonight, and I expect you to join us.” She folded the paper in half and placed it on the table, as if the act of doing so was buying her some time to formulate her thoughts. My sister Patricia walked in and saved me from a lecture.

  “Mary Grace has taken my racket and used it to swat flies, and now it’s covered in dead flies. I’m never using it again because it is disgusting.” She crossed her arms.

  Mother ignored her.

  “I’m not going to my lesson with that racket.”

  Mom stood and smoothed her housec
oat. “For Pete’s sake, leave us alone already. I’m talking with CC.”

  “You never do anything about Mary Grace!”

  My mother turned to Patricia. “You may borrow mine if you’d like, or there are nearly a dozen other rackets in the shed. If you ask Jessie very kindly, I’m certain she will help you clean yours later. We are all very busy this morning, though. We have a visitor coming, and I don’t want to hear another word from you or your sisters until he has gone.”

  She glanced at me leaning on the counter, sipping my coffee. “Who? Gabriel?” she asked.

  “Ann Marie’s father is coming here from another country today, and it may be a long time before he sees her again, so I need everyone to stay out of our way.”

  “Why can’t he see her again?”

  Mom turned back to the table and dismissed her. “That’s enough. Now go.” She rubbed her temples as if the questions had given her a headache. There was no pressing my mother for an explanation on anything.

  Just as Mom was about to resurrect her conversation with me, my sisters Colleen and Margaret walked in and began rummaging for food, talking loudly about their plans for the day. Before Mom could shush them, I darted back up the stairs and into my room, where Jessie was waiting with Ann Marie.

  “Little Miss is ready for you. I thought you might want to pick out her outfit.”

  Ann Marie was a week away from her first birthday and was crawling around like mad and pulling herself up on furniture. She darted toward me as soon as I stepped into the room.

  “I was thinking the little blue dress with the whales on it.” I lifted her off the floor and into my arms, breathing in her fresh powdery scent. “Oh, you smell so good, my little angel.”

  Jessie grabbed the dress from my breakfront and handed it to me. Downstairs, the house was in chaos. All four of my sisters were running in and out of the front and back doors with two of my cousins who’d come over to play tennis with them.

  Father had his attorney drop off the paperwork the night before, so we were all ready with the formalities as they related to the divorce, at least. My stomach turned when the doorbell rang. I heard Margaret scream that she’d answer it, and then I could see the rest of my sisters rush out of the house into the backyard.

  Jessie and I looked at each other in silence, and she made the sign of the cross over her heart. My father’s voice carried up through the front stairwell.

  “Welcome,” we heard him say. “How was your trip?”

  Gabriel’s answer was muffled, and the sound of his voice sent chills down my spine. I strained to hear what he was saying and prayed to find a shred comfort in it, but it only unnerved me.

  “Come,” Jessie said and waved me toward her. “It’s time. Let’s get you down there and make this quick.”

  “He’s an hour early,” I protested.

  “Just come.”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m not even dressed. The baby isn’t ready.” I handed Ann Marie to Jessie, along with the blue dress. She was still in her pajamas. “Dad will talk with him and have him sign some papers. He can wait.”

  “Shall I give her her breakfast?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll feed her as soon as I get out of the shower.”

  She scowled at me. “She’s going to be fussy if she doesn’t eat soon.”

  “Please just put her back in her crib. Tell him I’m in the shower and to wait in the living room and that we’ll come down when I’m dressed.”

  I couldn’t quite tell if Jessie disagreed with me or not, but she did what I asked, and I got in the shower. Maybe I should’ve run down to greet him at first, but he was early, and I chose to take my time because I needed my wits about me. Standing in the tub, I let the water hit my face and shoulders as the tiny room filled with steam. Five minutes later, I turned the spigot off and reached for a towel. As I was drying off, I heard Jessie yelling my name.

  It all happened so fast, there was no time to blink before she was standing in front of me, hysterical.

  “I knew he had a funny look on his face.” She was wringing her hands, pacing in and out of the bathroom doorway.

  “What are you talking about?” I took a step forward.

  “Mr. Clarke got a phone call, and your mother refused to speak with Gabriel, who would not follow me into the living room. You know I was as polite as I would be with anyone, of course, and yet he insisted on waiting in the foyer . . . ,” she rambled on.

  “Where is he now?” I stopped her.

  She pointed a finger behind her. “He had a funny look on his face!”

  “Jessie, where is he?”

  “He just walked out the front door with the baby.”

  “What?” I ran to the hallway and peered over the banister. “Gabriel!” I called out for him. “Mom?” I shouted.

  In my room, Jessie was trying to get my attention, speaking a mile a minute.

  The windows in my bedroom didn’t overlook the driveway, and I was standing wrapped in my towel, dripping water on the carpet. “Can you please go and see that he brings her back inside immediately?” I asked emphatically. “Ann Marie is not even dressed, and it’s cool outside.”

  Jessie didn’t budge. “He’s gone. He just took her out of the crib, put her in the car, and left.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ANN MARIE

  Chicago, 2008

  Mom is diagnosed with a malignant glioma. We got the results about three days ago, and today we’re back at the hospital, waiting on Dr. Elena Crane, who will see Mom through the treatment process. Dr. Marcus and I have exchanged a few e-mails, and he said he’d stop in and see us if he was around. My mother has our china pattern picked out already.

  “I’m sure the handsome doctor wants a still-married mom of three boys who now lives with her ailing mother.” I wink.

  Mom puts her hands in the prayer position, and we both laugh.

  We’re escorted to a patient room, where we wait for another twenty minutes, flipping through old copies of Redbook.

  “I will never understand why doctors can’t be on time,” I say as the door opens.

  “Hi, ladies. Good to see you both,” Dr. Crane says. “How have you been feeling?” she asks my mom.

  “I’ve been better.”

  The doctor smiles. “Of course. Well, we know that the tumor is inoperable, but we’re going to do our best to treat it through targeted radiation and chemotherapy.”

  “Treat it?” I ask. “Like, make it go away?”

  “More like tame it,” she says, and we both look at my mother to see if she has anything to say.

  “I don’t want to be throwing up all day.”

  “In the thirty-two years I’ve practiced, I’ve never seen this particular treatment make a patient sick or nauseated, but it will make you very tired.”

  As we’re walking out of the office, we find Dr. Marcus in the hall. “Hi, Doctor,” I say with a wave.

  “Please call me Scott.” He has a stack of folders in his hand and a granola bar in the other. “I was just going to stop in and see you both. How did everything go?”

  I look at my mom, and she excuses herself to go to the ladies’ room.

  We watch her turn the corner. “Thank you for stopping by, and for e-mailing me. I really appreciate it.” I pause. “It’s a lonely and scary process, as I’m sure you know.”

  “I do, and please don’t hesitate to reach out or think you’re pestering me whatsoever.”

  “OK.” I nod. “Are you this attentive with all your non-patients?”

  He laughs a little. “Well . . .”

  “I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I’m sure you are.”

  “I’m not.” He looks at me.

  I clear my throat and resist the urge to fall to my knees and break down in front of him. No one has any idea how frightened I am about possibly losing my mother. As a mother myself, I have no opportunity to crawl into a hole and stay there.

  We stare at each other for a moment, an
d I’m comforted by the peace and understanding in his eyes. I can sense that he knows my heart is breaking. “I have three little boys,” I blurt.

  “I have a daughter.” He smiles. “Looks like we have some things in common.”

  I nod and smile back. “I promise I’ll keep in touch on how we’re all doing.”

  “And I promise to reach out if I don’t hear from you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Scott puts the granola bar in his front pocket and opens his arms. “You’re a hugger, right?”

  Once she began treatment, my mom never went home to Connecticut. I had her cousin Laura clean out her condo and ship her things to my house, which included her Rottweiler, Snoopy. Named for being meddlesome, not after the Peanuts character.

  “The boys will be over the moon to have a dog, but a lot of people are scared of this breed. I’d better calm Jen Engel about it before she harps to the other neighbors.”

  “He’s very sweet,” Mom says.

  “You know how people are.”

  “Just don’t yell spider,” she warns.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The only time he’s been aggressive was once when I was in my kitchen and screamed because I saw an enormous black spider.” She looks at me sheepishly.

  I throw my arms up. “Great. Like I’m going to be able to make sure the boys never yell spider in the house. Do you have any idea how many bugs come through here each summer? It’s like Grand Central for spiders and mosquitoes and silverfish.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Just don’t yell about it.”

  There was no way Mom could manage all alone, and I didn’t want to take any chances. She’s with the boys and me now, where she belongs. She’s happy, and the boys are happy to have a dog. According to Monica, my therapist, Mom and I desperately need each other, and I couldn’t agree more.