A Daughter's a Daughter

by Irene Vartanoff

  Jason looked at Pam seriously. “I love her. Despite the drama. She went off on me a few months ago. We got past that.”

  “Did she?” Pam fought back the tears. “Linley has been putting me down like this since she was fourteen years old. It doesn’t get better. I’m tired of it, but I’m her mother. That relationship can never end no matter how estranged she is from me. I will love her until I die. If you marry, will you get tired of Linley’s tantrums when she isn’t perfect enough to suit herself?

  “That’s what it is, you know. I used to think she hated me. Now I’ve realized she hates the female frailty I represent. She despises me because she fears she might be tempted to make compromises in life.”

  She roused herself. “Why am I saying these things to you? You say you want to marry Linley. I shouldn’t be painting a negative picture of her.” She wondered if he had thought through how complicated being married to Linley might be. Perhaps her daughter would never change. She had gotten into the bad habit of blowing up at people. Linley might destroy her hopes of a successful media career if she wasn’t careful. Her lack of maturity hurt Pam personally, but also made her worry for Linley’s sake. When would her child grow up at last?

  “I love Linley,” Pam said. “I don’t want her to suffer because she has never learned to control herself. If you let her tantrums go by, you’ll be enabling her as I used to. No more. I’ve finally found my spine.”

  Pam demonstrated what she said when Linley returned a half hour later through the patio door. Pam rose from her seat in the sunroom and put a hand out to stop Linley from walking by her. “Stop for a minute. I have something to say.”

  “I’m not going to apologize—” Linley began, obviously still angry. Pam’s hand was unusually firm on her shoulder.

  “I said stop,” Pam repeated sharply in an authoritative tone of voice she hadn’t aimed at Linley in a decade.

  Linley’s expression showed how stunned she was. Pam led her daughter into the nearby dining room, where Dorothy could not hear them.

  “Now, listen. I have let you get away with your tantrums for years, hoping you would grow out of them. You haven’t. No more. Don’t say another nasty word to me. I can live my life without your completely mistaken judgments on it.”

  Pam kept her voice low as she continued. “You’re welcome to stay here the rest of the weekend if you can stop trying to blame me for everything wrong with the world. If not, then please leave now. Your bad attitude will not help your grandmother.”

  Linley looked dumbfounded. She was used to Pam cringing and begging for her love, not criticizing her. “You’re just saying that because you don’t know what to do…” Linley began in the same tone of voice she’d used in the kitchen.

  Pam raised her palm. “Enough. If you can’t stop pouring out poison, then go pack.”

  “You can’t make me leave,” Linley shouted. “This is Grandma’s house, not yours.”

  Pam cast her a steely look. “Be quiet. Don’t disturb Grandma. Grow up, Linley. This isn’t about you.” Then Pam walked away from Linley without a backward glance.

  #

  Brunch in the dining room went smoothly, but with someone missing. Linley was sulking upstairs somewhere, Pam assumed. Jason was obviously embarrassed to be left alone with Linley’s family, but he held his peace. Pam assumed his loyalty was to her daughter. Dorothy was completely recovered from her earlier confusion. An hour in her favorite sunroom chair had restored her. She chatted with Jason as if she knew him. Another instance of Dorothy putting on a good act? Possibly.

  Pam tried to help Dorothy keep her hold on the present. She reminded her who Jason was, underlining that he and Linley worked together. “You’ve seen them on television together many times, Mom.” She also repeated “Mom” as much as possible, to remind her mother who she was, too. Pam wasn’t taking any more chances today.

  Was her mother’s condition declining rapidly? Only a couple of months ago, Dorothy had been capable of making all her appointments, making friends with Bruce next door, and, except for what came in the mail, taking care of her financial affairs. That was a big exception, but still. Now, Dorothy seemed to visibly fluctuate.

  A few minutes later, Linley appeared downstairs with her luggage.

  Pam braced herself for another scene.

  “I’m going home. I’ll wait for you in the car, Jason,” Linley announced. She kissed Dorothy and sent Pam a hostile glare before sweeping out the front door.

  Jason stood up abruptly. “Excuse me.” He went upstairs, presumably to pack.

  “It was nice to have company for such a long visit, but we’ll be fine on our own now,” Dorothy said. She calmly buttered her toast.

  Pam trembled, hardly paying attention. She’d finally done it. Laid down the law with her rebellious daughter and made it stick. It felt good. Scary, but good. If it meant Linley left early, and in a snit, so be it.

  Chapter 37

  “Slow down,” Jason said. They were on the Long Island Expressway and Linley was speeding like a maniac, passing cars with mere inches to spare. “I happen to like being alive.”

  She accelerated even more, not looking at him. Her expression was furious.

  “Ah, I get it,” he said, as if he was talking to himself. “No one tells Linley what to do.”

  She made a sound of protest, but didn’t slow down.

  She hadn’t killed anyone yet, but Jason wasn’t willing to take his chances.

  “Slow down.” He made his voice commanding. Would he have to stomp on the brake himself? Grab the wheel? Even slap her? She was trying to kill them.

  Linley made no sign she heard him, but she slowed down to the speed limit exactly. It was a calculated insult, but he didn’t care.

  “Take the next exit,” he said. She promptly wove the car through four lanes of traffic, cutting others off, eliciting angry honking as she left the expressway with a screech of the tires. Then she let the car drift to a stop on the access road. Jason reached over and turned the ignition key to off and pulled it out. He pocketed it and got out of the car. Leaning against the front fender, he took a deep breath. Then he went around to the driver’s door and yanked it open.

  “Out,” he ordered.

  Inside the car, Linley gave him an angry, sulky look. He didn’t melt. She started sobbing. Jason let her.

  “Get out, Lin,” he repeated.

  Finally, she looked up at him with a childlike expression of disbelief. “I won’t.”

  “You’ve got five seconds.”

  “It’s my rental, not yours.”

  “Out.”

  He started counting aloud. Still she wouldn’t budge. At five, he pulled her up from the seat, and forcibly removed her from the car. He frog-marched her to the passenger side, and put her in the seat.

  He started the car and guided it back on the expressway. She began sobbing. After twenty minutes of tears, to which Jason would not allow himself to respond, Linley spoke.

  “I could have killed us. I’m a monster.”

  “No, you’re a spoiled brat who needs to grow up,” Jason replied. “Your ego is outraged because your mother dared speak up for herself. You were willing to kill us both to escape the feeling of being chastised by her. Even though you deserved it.”

  “She never did before. Daddy always stopped her,” Linley's mouth snapped shut. Then she said, slowly, “My father stopped my mother from disciplining me when they both knew I deserved it. He let me say mean things to her. He encouraged me to be spoiled and nasty to her.” She sagged against the car door.

  Jason willed himself not to respond sympathetically. “You take some time to think this all through,” he finally said. He couldn’t put what he felt into words. Despite her seeming remorse, was she a hopeless psycho? Driving like a maniac put Linley’s angry moments in a whole different light. Was he being an alarmist? Who knew?

  Tears dripped down her face, and she made an occasional whimper. He should have felt sorry for her. Maybe he
did. Mostly he was relieved to be alive. Now to get them safely to Manhattan.

  #

  Jason dropped Linley off at her condo, saying he’d be back in an hour. “I’ll pack all the things you left at my place. We’ve got to take a break.”

  She nodded and went inside.

  An hour later, he returned with three trash bags filled with her clothes and personal items. He rang her bell and delivered the bags himself.

  “I’m sorry it had to end this way,” he said when she came to the door. She accepted the trash bags and the keys to the rental.

  Jason waited for her to speak, but she said nothing. Her face didn’t give her feelings away.

  “See you at work,” he finally muttered.

  She said nothing, just stared at him.

  He turned to walk away. It had been a wonderful dream, but had turned into a nightmare.

  Chapter 38

  Pam was still mentally reliving the disastrous scenes with Linley when Bruce arrived hours later with Yappie. Dorothy went out to the patio to play with the little dog. Bruce and she exchanged a few words and then he came in to speak to Pam.

  “Where are your houseguests? I was thinking maybe we could try going for a sail.”

  “They left,” she said, shuddering at the thought of being cooped up with Linley in a small boat. Not her idea of a good time.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have confided, but something about Bruce always made her go the extra mile. She told him what had happened that morning. “Linley didn’t take Dorothy’s mental condition well. Even though I warned her in advance, seeing it for herself was tough.”

  “Is she one of those people who’s afraid to be around people who are ill?” he asked.

  “I think she was overcome by the enormity of it. My mother has always been the strong leader of the family. The idea she’s losing her hold on reality isn’t a pleasant one. Linley didn’t have the weeks I did to absorb the brutal truth.”

  “Which you also denied at first,” he reminded her.

  “Thank goodness you found Mom that day in town. I’m sorry I didn’t want to believe she was confused.”

  “Apology accepted. Now maybe you could work on believing me when I say I have never meant your mother any harm,” Bruce replied.

  “I’ve thought about it,” she said.

  “What can I do to convince you?”

  “Promise you won’t ask Dorothy again about Greta.”

  He looked shocked. “That’s a lot to ask.”

  Pam nodded. “Promise me.”

  He threaded the fingers of one hand through his hair, and walked around the room, clearly flummoxed by her demand. He looked over at her. “I can’t promise that. I came here to get the truth from Dorothy.”

  “She told you the truth as she sees it.” Pam didn’t soften her tone.

  “Did she?” Bruce looked unconvinced.

  Pam said, “I don’t really care. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings.”

  “No, I understand. You want to protect your mother.” He came and stood in front of her. “You mean a lot to me. Okay, I promise.”

  Something loosened in her chest. “Thank you.”

  “May I kiss you now?” he asked, a somewhat sad expression on his face.

  “Yes.”

  His hand stroked her cheek. He leaned over and kissed her.

  Pam closed her eyes in bliss. They hadn’t kissed in weeks. Oh, it was so good. She’d forgotten how wonderful Bruce’s touch was.

  “Do you believe I’m an honorable man now?” he asked. He kissed her again.

  “What?” She was in a fog of feelings.

  “Do you believe me?” he persisted even as he distracted her brain from operating. He kissed her eyes, her nose, her ears, and then her lips again. She moved into his arms, which tightened around her.

  Minutes or seconds later, she didn’t know which, they drew apart. She sighed happily.

  “Tonight?” he asked. His hands framed her face gently. She nodded her head, looking him in the eye. She would sneak out like an adolescent, after her mother was asleep, and go to Bruce’s bed. Her body hummed in anticipation.

  #

  The day stretched on. While Dorothy was napping, Pam called Sarah and updated her.

  “The doctor claimed Mom doesn’t have Alzheimer’s. Her personality hasn’t changed, she doesn’t have night terrors, and she doesn’t wander. But you should have seen her when she didn’t recognize Linley’s boyfriend. Mom freaked out.”

  “That’s not like her.”

  “You’re right. She was screeching. I think he scared her. Why? He’s obviously a nice, respectable young man. He’s good looking, he was wearing an ordinary pair of shorts for running. He didn’t look like a home invader. How could Mom have mistaken him for a dangerous stranger? Let alone one who somehow was threatening?”

  “It sounds heavy.”

  “It was. Then I had a screaming match with Linley.”

  “What was her problem? As if I can’t guess.”

  Pam felt she ought to defend Linley. “It wasn’t about her, precisely. It was about her reaction to Mom’s condition.”

  “Really?” Sarah conveyed a world of cynical doubt in one word.

  “I think she was freaking out about the idea her grandmother may have Alzheimer’s. She started blaming me. Said I neglected Mom. But I haven’t, Sarah, I swear,” she protested.

  “Of course not. When’s the last time Linley visited Dorothy?”

  “I don’t know.” She couldn’t help defending her daughter a little. “No one expects young people to pay attention to their elderly relatives.”

  “Sure, cut Linley a break. How about cutting yourself one, too?”

  “Okay, I will. None of this is my fault. My mother and I never got along well in the past, so we haven’t spent much time together until recently. My mother is a very clever woman. She hid the signs of her decline in cognition very well.”

  “I believe you. My ex hid the signs of his extramarital screwing around for years before I caught on.” Sarah said it lightly. At the time, a decade ago, she had been devastated. When Sarah swore she would never marry again, Pam believed her.

  “Anyway, it was a very dramatic morning,” Pam said.

  “Are you going to have sex with Bruce tonight?”

  “Wow, get right to the point, Sarah, don’t beat around the bush.”

  “He’s still interested, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve had him investigated? He’s on the up-and-up?”

  “Yes.”

  “So why not enjoy the free ride?”

  “No need to be crude.”

  “Why not? Bruce is the perfect distraction from all this angst. He’s convenient, and there are no strings. Enjoy him.”

  “I do, but I feel guilty,” Pam admitted. What could she say? He was using her to be close to Dorothy and she was using him for sex? Her emotions might be involved, but she had retreated from exploring that aspect of their relationship. The sex was enough. When he tried to talk about their relationship, she fended him off.

  “Sarah, can we talk about something cheerier?”

  “Okay. How’s your nonprofit coming?”

  “Pretty well, considering how distracted I’ve been lately. Harper has a lot of experience on the charity circuit and she’s keeping everything moving.”

  “Any more donations?”

  “Yes. I got ten thousand dollars and a promise of ninety thousand more from a man connected to the former head of accounting at Bernie Madoff’s company. He’s probably a crook, but his check didn’t bounce.”

  “I’m amazed you can bear to talk to these sleazes.”

  “I’ve turned over a new leaf. Or you could say I’m channeling my mother.”

  “You’re also expressing yourself more cynically. Have you noticed?”

  “I feel different. I’m not in a rut anymore.”

  “Good. Too bad it took the imminent collapse of the entire Wall Street ban
king system to jog you out of your apathy.”

  Pam chuckled. Sarah’s dry wit was bracing.

  #

  After Dorothy woke up, she started talking about the past. At first, Pam was obliging. Then she started to get uncomfortable. Dorothy was talking about Greta.

  “Mom, you told me this before,” Pam protested. Today wasn’t a great day for Dorothy to be upsetting herself with thoughts of her long-dead and possibly murdered friend.

  Dorothy was as stubborn as she had always been. “Hush, Pamela, I’m trying to tell you something important. Something that happened before you were born.

  “I confronted Roger at his house after the funeral. I wanted justice for Greta. He was already drunk. Miserable. I saw he had been looking at photos of her, and crying.

  “I told him he was a murderer. I pulled out my gun, the gun I’d borrowed from a boy who had seen service.”

  “Roger laughed at me. ‘I’d murder myself before I’d hurt Greta.’

  “I called him a liar.

  “‘Sure, I killed her,” he finally admitted. ‘By marrying her.’”

  “I must have looked puzzled.

  He pulled two tear-stained pages off the table and handed them to me.

  “It was a diary-style letter written by Greta. I recognized her handwriting. She wrote in a rambling way about how boring and frustrating her life was, how she liked to do crazy things to liven it up. While Roger was having fun all day at work, she’d try to walk the top of a fence, or slide down the banister on the stairs.”

  “To add drama to her day, she’d let her friends and relatives see her bruises, and tell outlandish, fake tales of how she’d gotten them. It was a game for her. She had created a melodrama. She knew her sister and I had both fallen for it.

  “I accused Roger of forging the letter. He laughed at me and then tears fell from his eyes.

  “‘Do you really want to know how Greta died?’ he asked me. ‘The truth?’