The History of Us

by Leah Stewart

  “We got in late,” Theo said.

  Francine pulled a face. “You always stay up late.”

  “I went to bed before the others,” Theo said.

  Francine raised her eyebrows. “You did? I thought you’d be in the thick of it. Fighting or making up or whatever you’ve all been doing. Having group therapy.”

  “No,” Theo said. “They seemed to be doing fine without me.”

  “Hmmm,” Francine said. “Is that a problem?”

  Theo shrugged. She poked her eggs with her fork. Her grandmother waited. Theo had always been careful not to let Francine elicit any criticism of Eloise from her, not once she understood what pleasure Francine took in it, and how it would sound coming back out of Francine’s mouth as soon as Eloise gave her an opening. But it’s hard not to voice our complaints about someone to a person so ready and willing to hear them. This morning Theo was unequal to the effort it would take to resist. “I don’t know why she had us all come,” she said. “She didn’t need us at all. She and Claire could have worked it out on their own.”

  “So they did work it out? Claire’s going back with you?”

  “I’m guessing,” Theo said, “based on all the apologizing she was doing, and all the comforting she was getting in return.”

  Francine settled back in her seat, lifting her mug from the table and looking at Theo over it. “Are you angry at both of them? Or just Eloise?”

  “Both of them.”

  Francine looked thoughtful. “Claire I know all about. Why Eloise? Is it just about the house?”

  “It’s about the house. It’s about a lot of things.”

  “Like what?”

  Theo shook her head. Her grievances sounded so petty and childish when she had to voice them. She couldn’t bring herself to describe how she’d felt seeing Eloise take Claire in her arms, so maternal, so forgiving, exactly the person she wasn’t for Theo. “We had a fight yesterday.”

  “What about?”

  “I guess . . . I guess about what kind of parent she was. Or wasn’t.”

  Francine frowned. “And what kind of parent was she? Or wasn’t she?”

  Surprised by the sharpness in her grandmother’s voice, Theo took a bite of toast instead of answering. “Busy,” she finally said.

  “Busy,” Francine repeated. “You mean she wasn’t baking you cookies and cooing over your drawings?”

  Theo, stung, said, “That’s not what I mean.”

  “You know she had to work,” Francine said. “She had to support you. And even if she hadn’t needed the money, why would you have wanted to take her work from her? It was what kept her going.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Do you know you’re the age she was when she inherited you? She was twenty-eight. Do you ever think about that? She was just starting her career. She was used to being responsible only for herself. You’re upset about the house, and whatever else you’re upset about, and I’m not saying those things don’t matter, but do me a favor and imagine if you suddenly had to take care of three children, by yourself, and you had to pay for them and dress them and feed them and comfort them and encourage them and take on the utterly impossible task of replacing the two parents they’ve just lost. Imagine that that’s what happened, and that you didn’t even have your brother or sister anymore. You know what? Everything that mattered to you, just on your own, you’d have to set aside. But it’s not like those things would go away. You might never finish your dissertation. That would haunt you. You’d feel like you’d failed.” Francine shrugged, like none of this mattered much, despite the emotion in her voice. “You’d feel like you’d failed at a lot of things.”

  “I never said she failed.”

  “Sure, you did, or you thought it anyway. You think she failed as a mother. But imagine, right now, you’re suddenly responsible for three other people. You have no idea what you’re doing. There’s no backup.” Francine set her coffee on the table, hard, and pushed herself up to standing. “That was Eloise. She was totally alone.”

  Blindsided, in need of a defense, Theo said the first thing she could think of. “There was you.”

  Francine uttered a rueful, one-syllable laugh. “There wasn’t me,” she said. “I wasn’t exactly mother of the year. Just ask my daughter.” She moved around the table, headed in the direction of her room.

  “So I can’t hold anything against her?” Theo asked. “She can’t ever be in the wrong?”

  “I didn’t say that, honey,” Francine said, still walking away. “I never said that.”

  In early afternoon Eloise found Theo at Green’s View, one of the scenic lookouts from the bluff into the valley below. They’d had a ritual of coming here when the kids were younger. After they’d arrived, before they unpacked their bags or, sometimes, even before they brought them inside, they’d walk here from Francine’s, strolling down the middle of the road, spotting deer and picking wildflowers, stepping aside for slow-moving cars and pickup trucks. To look out over the world from this spot was to take a deep breath. All the movement of life was stilled into beauty. They liked it especially at night, because as city dwellers they rarely saw stars like the ones here, because at night the towns below were stars, too, a shimmering pattern of lights, natural and untroubled. When people asked Francine why she was moving back here after so many years, she’d repeatedly said, “For the view.” She’d even said that to Eloise. But there were views in Cincinnati! There were views aplenty. She could have said, Because I felt at home there, and I have never felt quite so at home, quite so much myself, anywhere else. Eloise would have understood that, and maybe felt somewhat less angry and betrayed. Maybe not. At any rate Francine never said that. Maybe that was what she meant by For the view.

  Theo was sitting on the grass just above where the bluff began to drop off more steeply. She had her knees up and her arms wrapped around them. As Eloise drew closer, Theo heard her feet on the gravel and turned to see who was coming. It gave Eloise a pang, how quickly Theo turned back around. “We’ve been looking for you,” Eloise said, when she got near enough to be heard. “Everybody’s ready to go.”

  Theo nodded, her gaze still on the valley, or maybe on the sky. “It’s so pretty here,” she said.

  “It is,” Eloise said. She sat beside Theo, a foot or so away, and mimicked her pose.

  “But you never wanted to live here.”

  “No.” Eloise shook her head. “This was Francine’s place. I always thought of myself as a city mouse.”

  Theo gave her a sidelong glance. “And Francine’s a country mouse?”

  Eloise laughed. “Sort of. In her way.”

  “If you had lived here,” Theo said, “you don’t think you would have been happy?”

  “I don’t know,” Eloise said. “Maybe. I mean, you’re yourself in every place, of course, but some places bring out a better version. Or maybe not better. Maybe just the version that feels right.”

  “Why can’t you be happy in Cincinnati?”

  Eloise held her breath a moment, then let it out in a rush. “I’m going to try,” she said. “Why can’t you be happy anywhere else?”

  Theo glanced at her again, then turned away without answering. After a moment she said, “I wasn’t upset because your girlfriend was a girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” Eloise said. “I know.”

  “It was because I didn’t know.”

  “I know,” Eloise said again. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m glad you have somebody.”

  “I am, too,” Eloise said. “Assuming I still do.”

  Theo nodded. “Assuming,” she said. “Always assuming.” She looked up at the sky and blew out a long breath. Then she returned her gaze to the valley. “There are a lot of places to live,” she said.

  “That’s true.” Eloise wanted to say more but chose not to push it. Theo seemed almost to be talking to herself.

  “You can always come back,” Theo said.

  “I did,” Eloise said.

/>   “I won’t fight you anymore about the house.”

  “Oh,” Eloise said, surprised. “Thank you.”

  Theo was silent for what seemed like a long time. Eloise stole glances at her profile, wondering what she was thinking. Maybe that Eloise was making her miserable, wanting to sell the house, pushing her to leave. Maybe that Eloise had failed. But when Theo spoke she said nothing of failure or misery. What she said surprised Eloise so much it took her a moment to register the meaning. “Were we worth it?” Theo asked, and Eloise stared at her without speaking, Theo’s long brown hair slipping out from behind her ear, the severe and vulnerable line of her part. “Were we worth all the things you gave up?”

  “What do you mean?” Eloise asked.

  “Even though we’re fuckups?” Theo said. “Even though we’re twenty-somethings who still live at home? Even though we make bad romantic choices and wallow in self-pity despite our privileges and fail at our chosen pursuits?”

  “Theo,” Eloise said. “I love you.”

  “I know you love me,” Theo said. She turned and looked her aunt in the face. “I’m asking if I was worth everything you gave up. If I never finish my dissertation. If I never have a family. If I never succeed. Then you gave up your own successes so that I could fail.”

  “Nothing I did or didn’t do is your fault,” Eloise said. “I don’t want you to feel like that.”

  “I’m asking if you feel like that. I’m asking if we were worth it.”

  Were they worth it? All the sleep she’d lost. All the time. All the vanished possibilities. The move home. The less prestigious job. Maybe not, if you took out emotion, if you made it a balance sheet. All those old-school feminists who warned against motherhood—they hadn’t exactly been wrong. But what about Claire’s childish delight in terrible jokes, the way she laughed so hard at them that Eloise laughed, too, though they weren’t the least bit funny? Claire’s little giggle. Claire’s serious expression as she struck an arabesque in recital. The first time Josh played her a song he’d written. The delight on his face when she took him to his first concert. The way he’d call from college, a supposedly selfish teenager, and ask with genuine interest how she was. And Theo. Theo’s heartbreaking efforts to always be good. Theo coming to her with a history book she’d read, wanting to discuss it. The time when Theo, thirteen, had written her a note that said, Thank you for taking care of us. I know sometimes it’s hard. What about all of that? What about the sublime?

  “Yes, you were worth it,” Eloise said. “Yes, for God’s sake. Yes, you absolutely were. Unless it could bring your parents back, I wouldn’t trade my time with you. I promise you. I wouldn’t change my life.”

  It was what she had to say, of course, but she meant it. It was an enormous relief to find that she meant it, and that she could say it aloud.

  23

  Between Sewanee and Cincinnati there were six hours and three hundred and sixty miles, flat, unvarying interstate punctuated by Murfreesboro and Nashville, Bowling Green and Louisville. Plenty of time to talk, plenty of time to fall silent and let the car fill with the whoosh of rapid driving, or the music Josh approved. Josh pictured his grandmother’s solitary figure, waving goodbye, and imagined, rightly or wrongly, that she was lonely, that she sometimes regretted choosing solitude over company. Theo thought of Francine’s reproofs and Eloise’s reassurances. She’d resolved, sitting on the edge of the mountain, to give up on the house, to pursue a job in earnest, to try to win back Wes, and part of her wished she could have stayed there in that spot, where those actions were just valiant resolutions, beautifully unrealized. Eloise thought of her long and tangled history with her mother, her stored-up resentment, her anger over the house, which they’d left undiscussed. To her surprise, Francine had moved, on parting, from her usual one-armed back-patting hug into a full embrace. She’d said in Eloise’s ear, “Come visit me sometime on your own,” and their history—that resentment, that anger, that fear of giving in to the child’s longing for her mother and then finding that longing betrayed—made Eloise pull from her embrace with a quick and insincere “Sure,” even as she battled the urge to cry.

  Come visit me, Eloise thought now, shaking her head in bemusement. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Claire in the back, looking out the window, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. What would happen to her? They all, off and on, were wondering that. She said she was sorry she’d given up her spot in the company, but would they take her back? Would someone else take her? How much would she have to suffer for her mistake? They didn’t ask, no one feeling the need to punish her, now that they had her back.

  CINCINNATI, 100 MILES, a green sign said. They had so much to do at home. Apartments to find. Apologies and confessions to make. Jobs to apply for. Songs to write. Arguments to have. Josh would go see Adelaide when he got home, Eloise would go see Heather, and, after three days of screwing up her courage, Theo would go see Wes. But, in the car, they still didn’t know what would happen, whether Heather and Wes and Adelaide would take them back, whether, if they did, they’d stay together, who would end up living where and with whom.

  CINCINNATI, 7 MILES, and Eloise remembered that she hadn’t paid the electric bill. She hoped when they got back the lights would still turn on. She thought of the thousand things to do in the workweek ahead, and how all she wanted was to put her arms around Heather, and how many difficult conversations might be necessary before that wish was granted. Josh, too, was thinking about work now, and Theo about her job applications, and the endless list of tasks and duties thrummed through all their heads as they drew closer and closer, these things that you could forget when you went away but rushed back in when you returned, like a swarm after you, like a normal, difficult life.

  Then: The skyline. The turns they always made. The house. The front door swinging wide. Their feet on the creaky stairs. Their toothbrushes returned to their places in the bathrooms. Their own beds. They were home.

  Acknowledgments

  I’m enormously grateful to the people who took the time to explain their professions to me: Wendy Kline, Isaac Campos-Costero, Sylvia Sellers-Garcia, Jeremy O’Keefe, Nathaniel O’Keefe, and Sarah Hairston. Any errors are wholly mine. My thanks to my editor, Sally Kim, and my agent, Gail Hochman, who always make my books better, and to Allegra Ben-Amotz and the other good people at Touchstone. Thanks also to UC’s Taft Research Center for their support and to two of my former students who helped make this book possible: Julianne Lynch, who offered invaluable edits, and Liv Stratman, who provided invaluable child care. My love and gratitude, once again and always, to my husband, Matt O’Keefe, and to the rest of my family, especially my assorted siblings: my brother Gordon Stewart and his wife, Alexis Yee-Garcia; my brothers-in-law Jeremy and Nathaniel O’Keefe; and my sister-friend, Dana O’Keefe.

  Touchstone Reading Group Guide

  The History of Us

  By Leah Stewart

  Nearly two decades have passed since Eloise Hempel gave up her dream job teaching at Harvard University to return to her hometown of Cincinnati to care for her orphaned nieces and nephew. Now, with Theo, Josh, and Claire grown, she dreams of selling the family house, perhaps even returning to the life she left behind. But when her mother decides not to let Eloise sell the house—and instead promises it to the family member “who needs it most”—unforeseen consequences and revelations threaten to unravel their makeshift family.

  For Discussion

  1. Why did Eloise return to Cincinnati rather than have Theo, Josh, and Claire move to Boston? Do you think she made the right decision? Why or why not? What would you have done if you were in Eloise’s position?

  2. Describe Eloise’s individual relationships with Theo, Josh, and Claire. What makes each relationship unique? What are the specific strains on each relationship? Do you think Eloise treats her adopted nieces and nephew differently? Did any of these relationships remind you of relationships in your own life?

  3. Eloise “tried with
out success to break Theo of her fondness for their hometown.” Why is Eloise adamant that Theo leave Cincinnati? Why does Theo believe that Josh, but not she herself, “should be in a bigger city” and “leading a bigger life”?

  4. What were Josh’s motivations for quitting his band and returning to Cincinnati? In what ways did Josh’s tempestuous situation with Sabrina affect his relationship with Theo? Did you understand his reasons for not telling Adelaide about Blind Robots?

  5. How is Claire’s departure a turning point for Eloise, Theo, and Josh? Why does Claire not tell her family about her change of plans? Do you think Theo, Josh, and Eloise were more upset by her decision to quit ballet or by her deception?

  6. What does the house “on Clifton Avenue near the intersection with Lafayette” symbolize to each character? Do you think Eloise’s desire to be “unburdened” (. 76) by it due more to financial or emotional considerations? Have you ever felt a similar, conflicted connection to a certain place or city?

  7. “It’s like she wants to sell our childhood”, Theo says about Eloise’s desire to sell the house. Did you empathize more with Eloise or with Theo? Was Eloise justified in kicking Theo and Josh out of the house? Why or why not?

  8. Discuss Francine’s character. What were your initial reactions to her? How did she change over the course of the novel? What were her motivations for creating a “competition” for the house? Why does Eloise ultimately come to sympathize her mother?

  9. Why does Eloise insist on keeping her relationship with Heather a secret from her family and her colleagues? Is she ashamed of being in a romantic relationship with a woman, as Heather claims?

  10. “These children are not mine, she thought. This fact, which at times had come with a pang of sorrow, now brought her comfort. She was just their aunt. If the world had turned as it should, she’d be nothing but a voice on the phone.” Discuss your reactions to this passage. Do you understand Eloise’s resentment? What is your perception of Eloise as a parent, especially considering the circumstances of how she came into the role?