Braided Gold

by Glen Roylance

  Paul had dismissed the possibility of an accidental or chance conception. He regarded the pregnancy as a selfish victory for Cathy, the product of a conscious decision incubated in the many conversations between her and Lucy. He viewed the pregnancy as a mortgaging of their future – a development that would seriously jeopardize his doctoral studies. Economic pressures were severe enough without the impossible burden of a baby.

  From the beginning it was a difficult pregnancy, and soon Cathy had to give up her job as a teller at the Ypsilanti State Bank. There had been much nausea and light-headedness, and on one occasion she had actually fainted while waiting on a customer. Not only were the circumstances embarrassing, but they were of sufficient concern to her supervisor that he asked her to commence an early maternity leave. Soon it became apparent that Cathy would not be asked to return to her position after the baby’s birth, as a new teller was hired to replace her on a permanent basis.

  The immediate reduction of income, together with the prospect of imminent medical bills, made it necessary for Paul to drop some classes and take a part-time job. The Psychology Department had cooperated, yet it was clear that if Paul could not maintain a full load of academic work the graduate assistantship, which helped defray his enormous tuition expense, might well be withdrawn. His carefully mapped-out graduate program simply did not accommodate a baby!

  But it was not solely these practical realities that had so deeply disturbed Paul. Cathy’s decision to “engineer” a pregnancy had effectively alienated his love for her. She had known the intensity of his feelings on the subject, yet she had disregarded them. In essence, Paul had demanded that Cathy choose between being his wife or being a mother, and in her choice Paul felt rejection.

  Cathy demurred. Again and again she affirmed her love and emotional dependence upon Paul. It was true that she wanted a baby, but she adamantly maintained that the pregnancy was as much a surprise to her as it was to Paul. Still, she was gratified in the unexpected development. She was eager to see Paul move forward with his academic program, but did she not have a right to dreams of her own? Children had been the heart of her life since the days of her own childhood. At thirteen she had assumed the role of mother in the care of four younger siblings in a home beleaguered with problems.

  As this difficult evening of reflection continued, Paul walked slowly and aimlessly about the little apartment he and Cathy called home. His mind was alive with agitation and his thoughts again returned to his whirlwind courtship with Cathy during her first year of college. Paul’s magnetic charm had disarmed Cathy, and in her trusting idealism she readily accepted his professions of love. She took his sincerity at face value and found security in his personal strength. She was swept away with a reckless confidence in her future with him. The rapid pace of the courtship never allowed for that kind of reality check which establishes a realistic foundation for grand dreams. There had been no discussion of what domestic life might be like amidst the rigors of graduate school, much less the issue of children! Cathy had made idyllic assumptions only to discover that things would be decidedly different when it came to the realities of her life in Michigan. Soon after the move from San Diego these realities became a test of her idealism.

  At the outset Cathy adapted fairly well to her work in the bank, and at home she threw herself into making their humble living circumstances as commodious as possible. But she was homesick for friends and family in San Diego. Paul was on campus during the days and returned to the University to participate in study groups or do library research several nights each week.

  When at home it was books that consumed him. It seemed to Cathy that these “stuffy” books were his first love. She had no connection with his work at the University and no friends in Ypsilanti, with the exception of her next-door neighbor, Lucy.

  Paul’s thoughts continued to wander as he again stood at his living room window, gazing out into the darkness. In the dim light he could see the neighbor’s apartment and the family cat scratching at the door. Someone had forgotten to bring her in for the night. Paul’s gaze again became vacant and his mind turned to that afternoon of his first face-to-face encounter with Lucy. He had already made his assessment of this woman who had so quickly established a fast friendship with his wife. Cathy’s frequent references to Lucy’s comments had left him with little doubt that there would be enmity between the two of them.

  Lucy was simplistic and opinionated about matters that were of importance to Paul. Though he had not met her at this point, he pictured Lucy as one of life’s domestic creatures whose primary goal was to have a brood of little ones under foot. Then after she and Cathy had been visiting one afternoon, Paul returned from the University and Cathy formally introduced the two of them to each other.

  Lucy stood with an infant on her hip, eyeing Paul with curiosity. Her manner was familiar and effusive in contrast to Paul’s cool and detached reserve. She was not unattractive but seemed common and lacked refinement in his estimation. Her slender body was wiry and moved quickly in unison with her animated manner of speaking. At the outset of their conversation Paul spoke slowly, without eye contact, as he opened his brief case and laid out some study materials on the kitchen table.

  “Cathy tells me your husband is an engineering student,” he said.

  “He’s in his senior year. We’re heading for the home stretch next spring.”

  “And what are your plans following graduation?”

  “A real job at long last. We’re tired of life in the poverty bracket.”

  “Has your husband considered moving on for a master’s degree?”

  “We can do without it, thank you. Oh, I admire you for what you’re doing, but I’m glad Carl hasn’t got his heart set on going to graduate school. We’re both excited about getting on with things.”

  For the first time in this brief interchange Paul raised his eyes and looked intently at Lucy. “And what do you mean by ‘getting on with things?’”

  Whether Paul was being defensive or critical was unclear to Lucy. Nonetheless, she felt the barb in his question. “People are different. Their needs and circumstances are different. A bachelor’s degree is all that Carl needs to get into his profession. It’s all that he wants. If it were necessary, we’d make the sacrifices and get more schooling. From what Cathy tells me, you would never be happy without a doctorate, and that’s fine for you. I just hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.”

  “And how might that be the case, Lucy?”

  “Well, if you want my honest opinion, it’s not whether you are personally able to finish your program. It’s the way you insist on doing it. You’ve put your marriage on hold for school and that affects Cathy’s life as well.”

  “And how have we put our marriage on hold?”

  The conversation had now become less than cordial. There was discernible tension between Lucy, who was decidedly not a wilting lily, and this man whose views she had so frequently discussed with Cathy. “You’ve decided what you want to do with your life and you’ve got a plan for getting there, but I’m not sure that’s the way Cathy wants to do things. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Why don’t you explain all of this to me, Lucy? What is it that Cathy really wants?”

  Paul had succeeded in provoking Lucy. She knew as she began that she would regret the assertions she felt compelled to speak, but her inner control was gone and as she spoke there was no veneer of propriety in her response. “I’ll tell you what she wants; she wants to have a baby! You know that as well as I do. And now let me tell you something else. Everything has its price. You’re willing to pay the price for what you want, but there’s more to it than that. Why does she have to pay that price whether she wants to or not? There’s something very unfair about that. Why is your half of the marriage so much more important than hers?”

  Paul was still standing at the kitchen table sorting some note cards he had taken from his briefcase. He made no response to Lucy’s assertions. Angered even m
ore by Pau’s seeming indifference Lucy went ahead, giving expression to the sentiments she believed so deeply – thoughts that had become urgent to her as she had commiserated with Cathy in recent weeks.

  “For that matter, I think people should have their family as early as possible in their marriage. I think it’s a mistake to let university studies interfere. I just think one is more important than the other!”

  Laying his note cards on the table, Paul again directed his penetrating gaze to Lucy. A momentary silence seemed to make her comments hang in mid-air, more presumptuous than they would have been in spirited conversation. “Do you frequently do this?” asked Paul.

  “Do I do what?” said Lucy uncomfortably.

  Paul projected force and a biting quality in his words. “Do you frequently meddle in other people’s private lives?”

  The pitch and volume of Lucy’s voice rose as she attempted to defend herself. “Cathy and I are friends. She confides in me. I know how she feels about things, especially about having a baby. You’re asking too much of her. If she didn’t want a baby, things would be different.”

  To this point Cathy had said nothing, but there were tears in her eyes. Paul glowered at Lucy, then walked slowly to her and stood close enough for her to feel threatened. “You’re not welcome here,” he said resolutely. “Go home and feed your children or change their diapers – whatever you do with your time, but stay away from my wife. Keep your nose out of things that are none of your business.”

  Lucy seemed to wilt. Her eyes darted to Cathy who was silently crying. There was no eye contact. She moved quickly to the door, but before leaving, she turned and defiantly shouted back at Paul. “You’re afraid for me to talk to her! You’ve turned her life into a prison and you’re afraid I’ll help her get out!”

  Following that explosive afternoon Lucy had attempted to reconcile things with Paul, writing him a carefully worded conciliatory letter. Although Paul softened somewhat, the fallout from that initial skirmish never completely settled. He continued to mistrust Lucy and she was unable to put aside the disdain she felt for him. The friendship between the two women continued, but they spent time together only when Paul was away from home.

  Months later, as Cathy’s pregnancy ensued, Paul became increasingly detached from her emotionally, and of necessity, she drew closer to Lucy. In time Paul came to regard Cathy’s deep feelings about becoming a mother as a clinical curiosity, concluding that she was experiencing an emotional throwback to her adolescence and the role she filled in her home at that time. For him, Cathy exemplified a psychological maxim which states: “Whenever people find their present circumstances to be ill-defined and personally challenging, they typically wish to retreat to a more secure period of their lives.” He continued to hold Lucy responsible for Cathy’s lack of focus, feeling that the woman’s incessant prattle had intensified Cathy’s dissatisfaction with things as they were in Ypsilanti – providing the all-important reinforcement of Cathy’s willful determination to have a baby.

  From the outset of the pregnancy Paul had felt little compassion for Cathy’s exaggerated morning sickness symptoms. He considered the symptoms to be more psychological than physiological in nature. Nor did Paul give credibility to those circumstances requiring Cathy to leave her work at the bank to spend her days at home. In his mind, staying at home to be a mother was exactly what Cathy wanted – sufficiently so that she had become sick to hasten the arrival of these more desirable circumstances. Her fondness of Lucy galled him, regarding it as a sickly dependence that had not only come between Cathy and him but had also damaged his own plans for the future.

  Paul’s withdrawal from Cathy brought a corresponding deterioration in her feelings for him. Perhaps it was a defensive reaction on her part. By emotionally insulating herself from him she had sought to minimize the pain of his disapproval. She also withdrew out of fear – not fear of physical harm, but of the sheer force of his personality – his ability to bludgeon her with words.

  At times he was so persuasive as to convince her that she had selfishly violated some provision of the marital contract or that she had somehow willed the pregnancy which had been the death knell to his love for her. She had come to suffer from a crippled sense of worth and identity, and this, at the hand of the man she so dearly loved! It was during these dark days that Cathy looked to Lucy for personal validation. For her, their relationship became a touchstone with reality bringing personal affirmation.

  The birth of Michael exacerbated the situation. As Paul had anticipated, the infant became an intruder in his life and in his marriage. Cathy’s devotion to Michael was so complete that it seemed to exclude Paul. Unconsciously he resolved to force the issue to a head. Sooner or later he would demand that she make a choice between him and the baby.

  Then came Cathy’s visit to Lucy’s obstetrician – at Lucy’s insistence. Cathy’s ailments, heretofore regarded as merely an unfortunate aspect of her pregnancy, did not abate with Michael’s birth; rather they seemed to escalate. There were constant headaches and dizziness, as well as recurring bouts of nausea. This, together with Cathy’s complete lack of physical endurance, was alarming to Lucy. With dire warnings of sinister possibilities Lucy persisted until Cathy allowed her to make an appointment with her own doctor. A visit to Cathy’s doctor was out of the question. Her postnatal check-up had already been completed, and any further appointments would have brought a bill to Paul’s attention, requiring an explanation on Cathy’s part – an explanation which she feared. Not only did Lucy make the appointment, but she arranged to cover the expense herself. This was done without Paul’s knowledge, nor was there any discussion of the obstetrician’s subsequent referral of Cathy to Dr. Gordon, a prominent neurologist in Ann Arbor.

  Only after Dr. Gordon’s expressions of concern and the scheduling of some tests at the University Hospital had it become necessary for Cathy to approach Paul about these new developments. It was Paul’s remembrance of the ensuing confrontation that now dominated his thoughts as he stood alongside the sofa where Cathy had been lying that very morning as he said ugly things he could not erase from his mind. Perhaps he had been defending himself against the terrible realization that he bore significant responsibility for the late diagnosis of Cathy’s condition. But still, why did Cathy’s admission of her visit to Dr. Gordon trigger such an angry response on his part? Were his actions an emotional escape – a face-saving alternative to the kind of compassion he should have felt – compassion that was not possible because of the guilt that would have been involved? Was there a call for redress on his part that exceeded his emotional capacity? Such questions touched a vulnerable spot within his make-up.

  The chain of events leading to his present struggle with self was deeply etched in Paul’s memory. Cathy had been lying on the living room couch, wrapped in a wool blanket with a pillow from the bedroom propped under her head. He remembered that despite its disheveled condition, her long golden hair was as beautiful as always. The radiance of her light complexion had, however, given way to a sallow, almost peaked appearance, indicating that she truly was not well. But still, her perfectly formed petite features were striking. Her blue eyes had been closed, but not in sleep, and the tense expression on her face portrayed the anguish of one who was approaching some dreaded reality.

  Paul knew she was awake, as her restlessness was apparent. Repeatedly her eyes opened to look at Paul in furtive glances. For her, it had been a sleepless night. The lamp near the sofa was on and an open book lay on the end table, alongside a Seven-Up bottle and a half-empty glass. Cathy frequently resorted to Seven-Up to counteract the nausea that constantly plagued her. The baby was asleep in the small crib she had moved into the living room for the night.

  This she did as an evening ritual because Michael’s crying, and perhaps his very presence in the bedroom, was an irritation to Paul. In fact the whole issue of the baby was like a raw sore in their strained relationship. But even before Michael’s arrival Cathy had chosen to s
leep in the living room. It evidenced the alienation she felt. Paul’s emotional withdrawal from her seemed to have necessitated her physical withdrawal from him. She was not punishing Paul. Cathy was incapable of that. Indeed, she would have gladly thrown herself into his arms, had her embrace been welcomed.

  Cathy now spoke in a halting, apologetic tone. “Paul, I have to go to the hospital today.”

  He walked to her side. Her eyes were still closed as he spoke slowly and accusingly,

  “What do you mean, you have to go to the hospital?”

  “I have an appointment. It’s for some tests.” She looked away. Predictably, tears were beginning to form in her eyes. “I went to see Lucy’s doctor and he sent me to a specialist. They think there is something seriously wrong with me … a tumor or something.”

  “You did what?” There was intensity in Paul’s response. “How long has all of this been going on, and why is it that I’m the last to hear about it?”

  Cathy’s tears began to flow freely. She spoke with some difficulty as she tried to control her emotions. “I’ve been afraid to talk to you about it. I knew you’d be angry; that you’d think I was making everything up. But it’s not in my mind, Paul. I’ve known for some time that something was really wrong with me. I had to do something. Lucy said she would make an appointment for me to see her doctor. She said she’d pay the bill. I thought that there might be some medicine I could take and I’d never have to bother you with it, but the doctor said I should see a specialist. He called and made arrangements before I left his office.” Cathy paused momentarily. The feelings that gripped her caused her to tremble slightly. “Please don’t be mad at me, Paul. It was something I had to do. I was afraid not to go … I’ve been so afraid of everything.”