A Daughter's a Daughter

by Irene Vartanoff

  They set up a billing plan, and Pam insisted on paying a retainer. “I’m sure my mother would want to do it this way,” she said, when Celia offered to let Dorothy run a monthly tab.

  Pam gave everyone her cell phone number. She even made herself learn how to set it on vibrate only, and how to retrieve and send text messages and email. Drifting out of touch with today’s new communication technology was an affectation she could no longer indulge, not now that she had important business to conduct.

  Alexander stayed for a few days, visiting old friends. Bruce came over and Pam introduced Alexander to him. The men got along well, but since Pam had no marital plans, it hardly mattered. She soon returned home to Melville. She and Bruce had not taken their relationship beyond the casual, and currently it looked as if they never would. That was all right, though. They had sex whenever it was convenient, which was enough for her. For him too, she suspected, despite his hints at an emotional attachment. They never made any extravagant declarations or promises. That was fine with Pam. She had plenty to keep her occupied in the city. Bruce’s extension his lease of the house next door was some kind of a commitment on his part, but Pam did not care to confront him about his intentions. They enjoyed each other’s company, and that was enough for her at this point in her life. Maybe in a few years, once her foundation was on solid ground, she would think about being a wife again. Or maybe never.

  Dorothy had not volunteered another story about Greta. She had even put away the framed photograph. Perhaps by telling the second story, Dorothy had exorcised whatever unhappy feelings she’d had about Greta’s death. Maybe there would not be another version.

  Pam heard nothing from Linley, not that she expected to. The holidays had passed without any mother-daughter contact whatsoever, although Steve and Callie had invited both Linley and Pam to their home. Linley hadn’t come, and Pam had stopped begging for Linley’s attention. Of course, she worried about her daughter, but she could see her on television every day. She set the DVR to record Linley’s shows and watched them later. Linley had not looked happy immediately after the disastrous beach visit. The zest had gone out of her performance with Jason. Thus it came as no shock when their new show was not renewed after one short season. Jason’s promotion to his own night-time talk show was the ostensible reason. In the avalanche of publicity about him surrounding his new show, there wasn’t one word about a fiancée. The relationship might have ended, possibly badly. Something else she couldn’t talk to Linley about.

  #

  Dorothy enjoyed looking out at the water. It was always different, but always the same. As the noise in her head had gotten louder, she’d found the water calmed her and helped her think clearly. Her children took care of her finances now. That was a relief. Pamela was a good child. How ironic. The two children she’d had the least time for when they were young were the most solicitous of her now. Alexander and Pamela had gotten the short end of the stick when it came to maternal attention. By the time she’d had them, she had been immersed in her causes, plus busy with Christine’s and Neil’s activities.

  Christine had been a daughter to be proud of, making good grades and being popular and winning scholarships. She’d never needed anyone. She was a cat who walked by herself. She left and never looked back. Neil, another star achiever, found the perfect wife and changed his loyalty so completely to her and her family that he barely acknowledged his blood family anymore.

  She didn’t blame her children for living their own lives. For many years, she’d kept so busy, she hardly missed them. Her world had narrowed only recently. She’d decided to give up driving. She did not want to get lost on the road. It wasn’t that she was afraid, precisely. She just wanted to live out her remaining time with as much dignity as she could. So no more driving. She’d have to tell Pamela to sell the car.

  Pamela was a good child. How ironic. The two children she’d had the least time for when they were young were the most solicitous of her now. Alexander and Pamela. She’d seen both of them recently. Difficult to keep names and dates and places in her head today. It was calming to look out at the water. It was always different, and always the same.

  Chapter 40

  A year had passed since Linley had her blowup with her mother and then with Jason. Much had changed. He had moved on to his dream job as a night-time talk show host. It had happened at the right moment, since their on-air chemistry had completely vanished after that disastrous trip to the beach. They’d tried to fake it on the show. Paradoxically, considering how angry she often was, she didn’t have the fire for arguing anymore. Especially because she finally had realized she loved Jason, when it was too late. It wasn’t only sex she wanted and needed from him, or a leg up for her career, or even the pleasure of having somebody to be with. It was Jason himself.

  She’d thrown their love away by being an immature, self-absorbed brat. She couldn’t win Jason back again. She had used up all the second chances he’d given her. His cold shoulder to her since that weekend at the beach had been absolute.

  She stayed with the panel show, eventually graduating to a secure segment on a more broad-based finance program. It wasn’t quite what her ambitions had forecast for her, but then, she wasn’t quite the same person anymore.

  Intensive therapy focused on anger management had cleared up personal issues she’d never faced before. She hadn’t even realized she had issues. When she was wailing to Caitlin about the breakup with Jason, her friend pushed her to get therapy.

  “You need to see a shrink.”

  They were seated in a tiny restaurant, having a nonalcoholic Sunday brunch about a month after the traumatic event. Caitlin had declined the mimosas on the menu without any visible struggle.

  Linley shook her head. “I don’t have mental problems.”

  “Same know-it-all Linley as usual,” Caitlin said, with an air of impatience Linley had never seen from her friend before. “Seeing a shrink helped me stop being a drunken slut. It could help you, too.”

  “I’m not the one who…” Linley started to deny, but Caitlin interrupted her.

  “No more unfunny jokes about me waking up in bed with two men. That experience was not a laugh riot.”

  When Linley tried to speak, Caitlin held up her hand.

  “I’ve forgiven you. We’re talking about you, not me. My psychologist says if you keep having the same problems, you are the cause of them.”

  “I don’t know what happens to me. I see red and I just go off.”

  “You yell at people.”

  Linley didn’t refute the accusation.

  Caitlin continued, “I love you, but you have an anger problem. Get some help?”

  Linley sighed. She considered her waffles glumly. “I used to think I never made mistakes.”

  “I know. I let you be my friend in spite of your superiority complex.” Caitlin smiled to take the sting out of her criticism. Caitlin had never said such frank words to Linley before. That she thought them was a revelation.

  “So if I want a different outcome, I need to find out what the underlying issue is?” Linley asked.

  “Yep. For me, it was simple. You know I had a crap time as a teenager. As an adult, I wanted to drink in as much fun as possible. The operative word being drink,” she said ruefully. “The shrink helped me see I had gone beyond the fun stage into self-harm.”

  “People get stuck, repeating something that used to work for them, that’s the concept?”

  “Anger must have been an effective weapon for you in the past. You say it’s been the cause of your recent troubles. A mental health professional can help you get un-stuck.”

  Linley had put the name of Caitlin’s shrink in her phone, and then surprised herself by calling for an appointment. The therapist had seen through Linley’s façade right away to the chip on her shoulder. There was a lot of work to do, she said. Linley had collapsed with relief. Then the therapist had made Linley work. It had turned her attitude around.

  Linley discovered s
he’d been carrying over classic hostile teenager behavior into adulthood. Along the way, she’d convinced herself she was perfect. She’d looked down on others, never giving anyone the benefit of the doubt. Especially her mother.

  Once she’d gotten deep enough into therapy to realize how rotten she’d been to her mother for years, the issue of mending fences arose. It hadn’t been easy to face up to calling Pam and asking to meet with her. Pam showed no emotion during the phone call. There was no clue to her feelings. Linley's heart sank. Maybe it was too late.

  Linley chose a neutral venue, a quiet midtown restaurant on a weekday after the lunch rush. Pam arrived in a fashionable dress, wearing designer shoes and carrying a designer bag. She looked utterly confident. Linley didn’t know whether to embrace her or not.

  Pam didn’t hesitate. She leaned in to give Linley a quick kiss on the check. Almost an impersonal touch, but meaningful considering they hadn’t seen each other or talked in months.

  “Hello, dear. It’s been a long time.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  They sat in a booth, facing each other. Her mother looked sophisticated. Distinguished. Heads had turned as she’d walked in.

  “How’s the foundation?” Linley was finding it difficult to get to the point. Maybe she wasn’t ready after all.

  Pam looked at her with a knowing expression. “You of all people could research exactly how the Bright Side Foundation is doing. I’m sure you had some other reason for wanting to talk to me.”

  “You’re right.” Linley gave a dry, half-laugh with no humor in it. “That’s something I’ve seldom said to you.”

  Pam made no comment.

  Linley took a deep breath. “I want to apologize. For everything. For all those years of being a know-it-all, selfish princess.”

  Her mother said nothing.

  “For acting as if all you did for our family was worthless.”

  The final words were hard to say. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  Her mother helped her. “And?”

  “For blaming you for what’s happening to Grandma Dorothy.” The last words came out in a rush.

  Pam nodded. “That is a very complete apology. I accept it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, relieved, but still feeling small.

  Her mother leaned forward and covered her hand with her own. Her expression was earnest. “It’s my turn to apologize, for letting you get away with being spoiled. I took the easy route to family peace. We both have paid for my mistake.”

  Tears sprang to Linley’s eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Mom. You did your best.”

  “Maybe,” Pam shrugged. “I tried to make our family life as ideal as possible. Perhaps I should have debated with you about a woman’s contribution to a home and a family. That was not my way.”

  “Dad and I were lucky to have you.”

  Pam sighed. “I’d like to think so. That I didn’t waste all those years. Bruce won’t be that lucky. I have no ambitions of being the little hausfrau all over again.”

  “Bruce?”

  “My boyfriend, lover, regular hookup,” Pam said, “whatever you call them these days. You met him at Dorothy’s.”

  “I thought he was just a neighbor trying to worm his way into Grandma’s confidence.” Linley shook her head. “I didn’t realize you were…seeing him.”

  Pam raised an eyebrow.

  Linley’s shock subsided as she struggled to find an adequate response. This was a test. Had the therapy made a difference, or would this news make her freak out again?

  They both were silent for a minute. Pam withdrew her hands and sat back, waiting. Still with that smile on her face. Daring Linley to make a big bratty deal of her mommy having a sex life. The therapist had warned this could happen.

  Linley took a long, shaky breath. She spoke slowly. “I think I’m okay with that.”

  “Good.” Her mother’s smile widened.

  “I’ve been seeing a therapist,” Linley said. “Working on my anger issues.”

  “You’re doing fine, dear.”

  Suddenly, Linley saw the love that always was in her mother’s eyes. Her own eyes spilled over with tears. “Mom, I’d like to start again.”

  “You’re my daughter. You can always start again.”

  Linley leaped up from the table and ran around it to hug Pam, sobbing.

  “There, there,” her mother soothed. “It’s all right, dear.”

  “But I hurt you. And Jason dumped me. And I love him.”

  Pam moved over and made room for Linley to sit next to her on the banquette. Pam kept an arm around her as Linley poured out the whole story about Jason. Pam made sympathetic comments, or squeezed her, and finally took her napkin and dried Linley’s tears.

  “Such a sad little girl,” her mother said.

  “I’m different now, Mom, believe me,” she said.

  “We won’t look back. We’ll look forward,” her mother said, still in comforting mode.

  “But I love him.”

  In the past, Pam might have trotted out a platitude, but now she frowned in consideration. “What does your therapist say?”

  “That Jason is done with me. But I still want him.”

  “The relationship feels unfinished to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Making amends can be powerful.”

  “And then he’ll forgive me? Like you forgave me?” she asked.

  “Mothers are different.” Pam smiled, with a hint of sadness in her expression. “Other people don’t always give you another chance. You have to forgive yourself if they won’t, so you can put it behind you.”

  Linley thought it over. “I guess you and the shrink are right. I can’t go back.”

  There was a world-weary smile on her mother’s face, an expression Linley had never noticed before. “Only forward.”

  “Get on with my life.”

  At her mother’s nod, Linley gave a choked laugh. “I hate you both.” But she smiled.

  Pam chuckled.

  After that, the conversation flowed freely. Linley brought up her frequent phone calls with Dorothy. “Grandma Dorothy sounds like her old self on the phone. When I see her, she’s very different. She’s confused.”

  “She can fake it more easily on the phone because there are fewer distractions.”

  “She’s getting worse, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, despite the fact that she’s taking the standard dementia medicines. She doesn’t show any more signs of classic Alzheimer’s, which is wonderful.”

  “I’ve been researching the disease,” Linley said. “What you mean is she hasn’t suffered a personality change for the worse.”

  “Right. Your grandmother is still the same person. Just missing some pieces.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  Her mother didn’t answer. She didn’t try to make it right for her spoiled princess, or sugarcoat the truth. Life was imperfect, and her mother accepted that. Now it was up to Linley to live as if she did, too.

  From then on, Linley made the effort to keep communication open with her mother. They now called or emailed regularly. Pam even texted occasionally. They weren’t best buds, dishing about every date, but their long estrangement was over.

  She sensed she was the one doing the running. Her mother was busy now, with her foundation, with Grandma Dorothy’s affairs, and with that hunky over-the-hill science writer next door, Bruce. She wondered why they didn’t get married. Her mother never said anything against her father, but the fact that she didn’t marry again spoke volumes. Maybe her father hadn’t been such a perfect husband after all.

  Linley hoped her new attitude was changing people’s minds about her. It extended beyond family. She was ashamed of how unkind she had been to Caitlin in the past. Now, Linley was beginning to feel a compassion for other people she had never felt before.

  Even her opinion of the silly consumers who ran up their credit cards had mellowed. She didn’t despise them anymore. S
he had sympathy for their weaknesses. They were fooling themselves, that was all. Eventually, they’d have to face the truth, as she’d had to.

  Her mother was doing well. Her foundation was a moderate success, getting regular mention in the press as she convinced one big name after another to make peace with his conscience. Ironic that corporate greed was the bedrock of the foundation’s donors. That alone made for a good story, giving the foundation additional press.

  Her grandmother was doing fine, too, with that lady from her mother’s old job, Magda, as her housekeeper-companion. Although Dorothy was increasingly divorced from reality.

  Linley hadn’t gotten involved with any new men, and she hadn’t hooked up with any either. Ernie had wanted to hook up, but she’d said no. She was too busy working on her interior life to seek out men or sex. The memory of intimacy with Jason was too strong.

  Perhaps she hadn’t completely given up hope that some day, she and Jason might reconcile. Meanwhile, her therapist had suggested, same as her mother had, she should forgive herself for screwing up her love affair with Jason.

  It had been true love, but she’d never recognized it until it was over. She hoped one day she’d find another man who made such a deep connection with her. There was plenty of time. She’d been in a big hurry before. Her immaturity had insisted she deserved to have it all before she was thirty, whether she was ready or not.

  Today was an ironic day. Her first personal finance book was coming out, and her new publicist had managed to get her on Jason’s late night show. The angle was that they used to work together. The cable network was about to launch her new show, Money 101. They’d combined calling in some PR favors with the book launch.

  She was nervous in the green room, checking her appearance endlessly. Not too much makeup, but not too little. No bright red cocktail dress, no showing off her assets like a starlet. Instead, a smoothly flowing medium blue number that merely hinted at her curves. Sophisticated, yet not severe.