After I saw your dad a few times, he wanted to kiss me. I felt uncomfortable with this because of my own dreams, but again, I was swept along by my parents and your dad’s parents, and before I knew it we were getting married. It was my father that accepted the proposal on my behalf when your dad asked in front of everyone at our house one Sunday after church.”
All the time she spoke her voice was neither pleading nor persuasive. It remained flat and quite monotone which led me to believe what she said was fact.
“Call me weak…I was weak back then. After your dad and his parents left, I disclosed my vocation to my parents. I wanted to enter the sisterhood, Gray. My parents were selfish and didn’t want to lose me to the church. They said I was too privileged and lazy to do God’s work that way. They told me I was lucky to have the love of a good man.”
I stared blankly and felt shocked she had wanted to be a nun. She stopped and looked out the window for a minute, like she was thinking.
“I was so naïve about love and relationships. As soon as I was eighteen the wedding was arranged and we married, but my emotional maturity and life skills were of someone much younger due to my strict upbringing. I even tried to postpone the wedding but your dad had fallen in love with me. And as they say, love is blind. No matter how hard I tried to persuade him to wait, he was driven by our parents to cement the deal.”
“You wanted to be a nun?” My voice sounded high pitched, disbelieving, my stomach knotted tightly in anger. Both from the perspective she’d married my dad knowing this, and secondly that she had been so weak. The only thing that stopped me from giving her a piece of my mind was when I stared into her eyes and saw pain there. Then all I had felt was pity.
“Some people have it all marked out…life I mean. They know exactly where they’re going and how to get there. Me…I had no clue about anything, except God.”
“If you were so driven by your religion what happened to the sanctity of marriage? You deserted the marriage and let a good man go through all of that because of some selfish notion about wearing a habit?” I felt my hands curl into fists.
“I cried on my wedding night, Grayson. I cried because I knew inside that I would never be the woman your dad deserved. I cried because he took my virginity, and I sobbed a bucket full of tears because he loved me above everything else. Having sex without procreating felt wrong. I couldn’t do that, I felt dirty. Don’t judge me for that. It’s my personal beliefs that have shaped me.”
“You turned your back on me.”
“No, Gray. I left you with someone I believed could give you all the love you deserved. And I left your father the gift of you, because children are a gift from God. I’d caused him harm and hurt. He loved both of us so much. I couldn’t love him in the way that he wanted, but the most difficult choice was to leave you behind. There was no way I wanted to break his heart a second time by taking you away as well.”
“He thinks you left because he cheated.”
“No. I left because he’d found comfort with someone else. I couldn’t be what he wanted me to be, no matter how much he loved me. You can’t love someone in that way unless your heart agrees.”
Rage brewed inside me. She could have told my father all of this a long time ago; it may have helped him heal. Her parents had affected her in a similar way that she had affected me. “You know, maybe if you’d been honest your life could have turned out differently.”
“And maybe if I had, this conversation between us would have be taking place, and I’d never have been able to see the gift from God that you are. Don’t think I never loved you. I accepted my pregnancy with grace because God is good. It was His will I gave your father a son. When I held you in my arms you filled my heart with joy and broke it at the same time.”
“I broke it?” I felt crushed by how she told me I’d affected her.
“Yes, you were so beautiful and your father was so happy. The shine in his eyes was like the brightest light and it made me feel ashamed of how I had treated him, and how he would hurt afterward because I couldn’t respond to intimacy for intimacy’s sake.”
Everything she said mirrored my dad’s explanation but was completely different from her perspective. She delivered her speech with sincerity, humility, and I heard the hurt for our situation in her voice. I didn’t understand her thought processes but I couldn’t toss her words aside either. No matter how pissed off she made me feel, in her own fucked up way she felt she had done the right thing.
“I hated you for leaving.”
She smiled at me. “I’m glad…there’s a fine line between love and hate. You felt. I was numb.”
“Problem for me was it was pretty much the strongest feeling I’ve had all these years. When I reached adulthood, I thought I had survived my childhood relatively unscathed for what had happened. It was as if you’d died, but worse, because you had walked away from us without a backward glance. It’s only been this past year that the damage from that time has raised its head and left me with a clusterfuck of mistakes toward the women I’ve hurt.”
“Is there any need for profanity, Grayson?”
“You don’t get to tell me whether I cuss or not, I’m thirty-two years old. Twenty-three years you’ve been missing.”
Unexpectedly, she covered her face with her hands, and a sob tore from her throat. It was the first and most appropriate reaction I’d seen in her since we’d started to talk. When she cried, I should have felt angry that she was indulging in self-pity. I didn’t feel any animosity toward her, and I couldn’t find it in me to be cruel. The only thing I did feel was pity.
After a few moments she regained her composure and stared directly into my eyes. They seemed honest in their expression - honest and pained.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’ve punished myself every day since I left. How do you think it felt to work with children every day, teaching them all the things I should have been teaching you? That was my penance for doing what I did. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t ask God for forgiveness for what I did to you and your father. I’ve prayed for you both every night. I can’t forgive myself for not being stronger to stand up to the bullying I had from my family in all of this.”
Silence fell between us. Each of us sitting with our own reflection, until I came to my own conclusion. She’d made many mistakes and my own Confucius proverb came to mind. As far as I could see, by following her own beliefs she had dug her own grave in terms of relationships with the rest of her family. If I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive her I may as well have dug mine.
I wasn’t prepared to do that because of what I’d found with Hettie. My love for her had made me feel more benevolence toward my mother than I would have otherwise. I’d only just begun to let love thaw out my heart, to feel what love could do, and to know how it could destroy another when I couldn’t feel what the other person wanted me to feel.
“I forgive you.” My voice sounded steady and without feeling. Ranting and raving wasn’t going to wipe out my past, and I kind of understood the part about not loving someone because you want to. I’d been there with Phoebe and maybe it was that experience that made what she said a little easier to tolerate. When I said those words to her I’d meant them.
Chapter 33
Contemptable behavior ~ Gray
Years of angst, frustration and hate had collected inside me; the small boy I had been had wasted his prayers on bringing her back. It was blatantly clear her love was driven by her beliefs; beliefs so strong, she’d turn her back on the child she was supposed to love above all others. I was one small boy verses God. That part was sickening. I never stood a chance. In my eyes, what she had done was sin in itself.
In my head, there were a thousand or more scenarios from my past, all stored as ammunition had she ever turned up at our door. Years of disheartening disappointment when she never did, so I’d never had the opportunity to tell her how I felt about the way she’d beha
ved. All the tension and distress she left us to deal with when she chose to walk away from us would have meant little to her. Both my father and I blamed ourselves for her leaving. When she’d cried, it wasn’t for us. I believed it was for herself, not for the damage she’d wrought.
Staring in disbelief at the shell of the woman who had given birth to me, I was still having issues believing she was in the same room as me. It was strange. I’m not going to lie, but it helped that she had no apparent mothering instinct and wanted to hug me. I think I’d have made matters worse by shunning any physical contact. Words were easy, actions were what counted. She was so channeled into her vocation she had no idea what she had left in her wake.
We sat in that room for over three hours and during that time she had made no attempt to touch me. The way she spoke was as if she had completely rationalized everything that had happened to her and packaged up her contemptible behavior as justification for her actions. Shouting and screaming would have had little effect, nor would it have made any difference to the choices she’d made. In my opinion, she didn’t think like the rest of us.
There was no apparent remorse for much of what happened, and I sat staring blankly at her. Many thoughts had collected in my mind since I’d made the arrangement to meet her: how much alike we’d be, what she’d do when she saw me, what I would do when I saw her. In the end neither of us had done anything but talk. After she’d finished speaking I saw no point in asking to get to know her more.
Fears I had garnered about being like her, as if there were some weird innate genetics that made the both of us unable to connect with others, were dispelled right there in that room. I could never imagine walking away from my father, or ever turn my back on the people I loved. My fears of being abandoned were washed away with her tears because of the extremes of her religious beliefs.
I had no doubt in my mind that what she did, she felt was her vocation, and I was torn about accepting her explanation, but I felt I had to let it go otherwise it would have been yet another piece of baggage I’d drag behind me for the rest of my life. Before I met her that day, all the questions I had for her had swirled relentlessly in my mind. After three hours in her company none of them had mattered.
It was me who concluded the conversation by removing the beaded chain she gave me. I handed it back and told her I’d promised myself I’d wear it until she came back for me. I saw no need to keep it now that I’d seen her again and knew that was never going to happen. Reaching out she accepted it without comment or protest and stood to leave.
Like our initial meeting there was no spontaneous affection toward me. She wished me well, told me she was glad to have had the opportunity to tell her story, and walked away knowing very little of mine. This was our one chance to make things right between us, and in a way, she had. In my mind it would never be right, but I wasn’t going to lose sleep about being abandoned anymore.
She didn’t ask me anything about my life. Perhaps she felt she had no right to know. I really wasn’t interested in sharing anymore with her. When her driver opened the door for her, I didn’t watch her being driven away, instead I pulled out my phone and saw another text from Hettie.
Hettie: Stay calm she’s going to love you almost as much as I do.
I snickered because I had been hoping for a little more from my mother than there was, and texted my driver.
Me: Come get me, I’m done.
****
When I got to the airport I rang Hettie like I said I would.
“Hey, how did it go?” Her voice didn’t hide her worry.
“Good. I got an answer of sorts. I’m okay.”
“Good? It went well?” she pressed again.
“It went. I did what you asked and I know for certain how I feel about you. Be with me, Hettie. I don’t want us to wait another minute.”
“Really?” The smile in her voice was like a hug from afar.
“Really. Think about what I’ve said. We’ll talk when I get back.”
I filled her in on what my mother said and she was horrified that someone could have done what she did. Once I concluded the call with her, I called my dad, then Brody and talked over everything she said with them as well. My dad’s only comment was, “Now maybe you can understand how hard it was,” whereas Brody was livid. I cut the call with him because I didn’t want to listen to how angry he was for me. It was anger that was misplaced because since meeting her I’d got the closure I never believed I’d get.
****
Arriving back in New York after a long talk with my dad, I was surprised and delighted to see Hettie waiting with Brody inside my apartment. It blew me away she’d dropped everything and flown up to be with me. During my phone call with Brody I had argued that I was fine, but he was anxious to see for himself that I was okay.
It struck me that Brody and Hettie were both more concerned for my wellbeing than my own mother had been and a lump formed in my throat when I saw them making me emotional for the first time since my journey to see her. I cried, touched by their concern, but excused my tears away as being tired, saying long haul flights were exhausting.
“Gray.” Hettie ran toward me, wrapping her arms tightly around me. She hugged me hard, like she’d never let me go and I felt the love radiate through her into my bones. My heart swelled with need.
Breaking the embrace, I looked at her with tears in my eyes, pulled her back into me, and kissed her hungrily. A few seconds later I broke the kiss and held her at arm’s-length. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried. I had to know if you were okay.”
I glanced at Brody, who winked, a smile stretched his lips. “I’m fine. See?” I told her. Stepping away I held my hands out for them both to look at me.
“Yeah, I know what you said, but when you love someone sometimes you just can’t stay away,” he replied. My heat squeezed with affection at his comment.
“You should be teaching in school,” I said to Hettie with a frown.
“I know. I’m sick today,” she said, offering a small fake cough with her hand over her mouth.
“You pulled a sickie for me?”
Hettie smirked, “Love makes us do crazy things,” she offered, and it made Brody chuckle.
“Well, on that note I’m gonna get back. I just wanted to know for myself you were okay.” Brody stood and swiped his car keys off the coffee table. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Gray. Make sure you get plenty of sleep, rehearsals start Thursday.”
“Great, almost three days off, I’m stoked,” I answered with a smile.
“Bye, Hettie, lovely to meet you. This guy has been hung up on you forever. I was beginning to think I was competing with an imaginary friend,” he told her.
Hettie grinned widely. “Good to know, and great to meet you as well,” she replied. I saw her face tint pink with Brody’s admission.
Once he had left us alone, Hettie yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me. I got the 5:30 am red-eye here this morning. Brody picked me up from the airport. Your PA passed on my number and he called me. I couldn’t stay home knowing you were on your way back.”
We sat down across from one another and I took her hands in mine. They felt warm. Her eyes shone with affection even though she was tired. “You should have been at work today. Instead you’ve not only tracked me down, you’ve traveled over twelve hundred miles to see me at the butt crack of dawn. I can’t tell you what that means to me, baby.”
“Why, is it a secret?” she teased.
“You know what I mean. It means a lot you came up here to be with me like this after the cold reception I had with my mother. I never thought I’d be happy I wasn’t brought up by her. For over twenty years I imagined what it would be like to see her again. Never did I think it would be the way it was when I finally did.”
Hettie leaned over and gently brushed my hair away from my brow with her soft fingertips, a small smile on her face that morphed in
to a frown. “I’m sorry I made you go through that. I know you told me everything that happened, but I have to say that she has no idea what she’s missing. You’re a good man, Gray, despite being a rock star.”
“No, you were right, I had to do it. I’m glad I did. Everything makes more sense now I’ve seen her through adult eyes.”
She smiled. “You just had some fucked-up things to deal with in life. And after what you told me, I relate better to how you think about Phoebe.”
“What does she have to do with anything?” I asked, feeling annoyed she’d added her to my already fragile emotions.
“She cared about you when you felt no one else did. I get that you’re loyal to people. I get that you can’t make someone love you, and I get that you can be friends and lovers but not be in love.”
“I’ve never been in love with Phoebe, Hettie. Never. I’m only in love with you. I’ve only ever been in love with you. Back in college, I guess I just wasn’t ready to love you the right way.”
“And now?”
“Now there’s no room for doubt. You make me feel incredible things. You make my chest tighten in one way when I see you, and in a completely different way when I don’t. I miss everything about you when we’re not together: your face, your smile, your touch, your smell. My heart swells in my chest when I see you and shrinks the second you’re gone. I know I won’t be able to spend much time away from you now. I’m not sure how we’re going to work this out, but you are more important to me than anything else in life. Did I mention I love you?”
Hettie’s face beamed with delight, her face a picture of joy, and her eyes filled with adoration. My heart squeezed with pleasure just from the way she looked at me and from holding her hands.
Notes On Love Page 30