Circe (20 page)

John invited us to his wedding in February and Andy discussed Pria’s baby shower and Angela’s wedding shower. The future seemed bright for everyone. Andy talked about her new job working with victims of childhood sex abuse and John and Angela talked about the wedding and their jobs. Pria fit right in talking excitedly about the baby and taking a year or two off of work. Everyone had horizons they couldn’t wait to get to and I found that, for the first time in my life, my own brilliant and mundane horizon glittered like a chest of gold before me.

The things that had always frightened me seemed to offer solace. A home, a wife, children, a comfortable job, and a life by the sea offered me a glimpse of joy I had never known. All my life, I had been striving to obtain something majestic and great and I had hated myself for constantly falling short. I had never forgiven Pria for our failure on Kilimanjaro. I hated her for Mobile and the less than prestigious internship I had taken. I had hated the baby, because it was a cage, but at that moment, all of these once-loathed things seemed like a ray of hope in an otherwise dark room. I could still see Cassie’s body twisted in ecstasy on the inside of my eyelids and every time I glimpsed it, I wanted to be normal. I didn’t want to be the monster Cassie had called me. I didn’t want to be the predator that had summoned her to my bed. I wanted to be Pria’s husband and a good father.

At the end of the dinner, Angela raised her glass to all of us. “May we all find the futures we have sought,” she said with a little slur.

 Everyone drank to that and we departed as friends. Although Pria was still gaunt, the gathering had noticeably elevated her mood. She hadn’t eaten much of the food, but she couldn’t stop talking on the car ride home and after we got there, she threw her arms around me and kissed my chin.

“Things are getting better,” she said. “You have friends and you’ll never see Dr. Allen again. Maybe we can have a normal life after all.”

She walked to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.

“I’m sorry, Pria. There are not enough apologies to cover my remorse.”

She shook her head. “And there never will be, but this is what I want and it makes things better. I want a normal life with a husband who has friends. I want dinner parties and baby showers and a house of our own. I want to tell our parents about the baby and I want my baby to have grandparents.”

“I thought you had already told your parents.”

“No. We need to tell your mother. We need to be normal. Through this entire marriage I’ve ignored your idiosyncrasies, but now they’ve become unhealthy and I think it’s time that you face that. We should go see your mother. We should tell her about the baby.”

“I’m sure my brother has already done that.”

“No, we should. We should be normal. The only way we can wash away the stains of the past is to find a new future that is built on, what the fuck, normal family values.”

“You’re not going to vote Republican in the next election now, are you?”

“Don’t joke about this. I’m serious. And another thing, I talked to my parents and they are willing to give us the down payment on a new house so we can move in a little before you get settled in your new job. I want a house before we have the baby.”

“I know I fucked up and I should bow to any of your wishes, but I’m exceedingly uncomfortable borrowing money from your parents.”

“You’re not borrowing it. I am. And I need this. You owe me this. I want to bring this baby into a real home, our home. I want to move to Foley and put some distance between that witch and us. I know the commute will be long, but by the time we find the house and close on it, you’ll only have a few months left in your internship. I’ve supported you for years and if I want to borrow money I can. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I understand.”

“Eric, I’ve given up a lot for you. I wanted to go to graduate school. I wanted to get my Masters. I’ve worked long hours at crap jobs supporting you and your dreams. I gave up my family to follow you to the ends of the earth and you know how close I am to my sisters and cousins. I’ve taken on your dreams. I’ve camped. I’ve hiked. I’ve done all this because I loved you and because I wanted you so badly. You’re beautiful, but you’re broken and I’m not doing it anymore. Now, you’re going to follow me. We’re going to live by my family and we’re going to have family picnics and barbeques and my mother is going to come over to dinner all the time. I’m going to go out with my sisters and you’re going to watch the baby and when the baby is old enough you’re going to support me while I go to graduate school. You owe me everything I want. You owe me everything I’ve always wanted.”

“And more,” I answered solemnly.

“Sometimes, I wonder if you even know me. I don’t think you do. I think I’m some twisted Madonna to you. I’m a woman. I have dreams. I have ambitions. I want a family and I need my family. I want you, but if you fuck up again, I’m leaving you forever.”

CHAPTER 6

Always the battle of the warrior is with one’s self.

Anon

Teiwaz—
The Spiritual Warrior

It never snows in Mobile. The nights get cold and long and sometimes a hint of ice hangs from the trees, but it never snows. Mistletoe and the trappings of the season carpet the downtown  but a heat hangs about the holiday that always seems oddly out of place. The interns were given two weeks off for Christmas vacation, unlike the rest of the staff. It was our time to transition from one ward to another and to pull ourselves together.

Pria and I spent a considerable amount of my first week off with our new friends. We went to dinner and enjoyed each other’s company. Pria hadn’t forgiven me for my affair, but the constant barrage of social interaction kept her distracted. Most nights we got home too late to talk and in public she mouthed devotion with an artistry that rivaled the greatest actresses. She loved me and she wasn’t going to leave me, but our relationship was different. I brought her flowers every day and studiously avoided even looking at the shoes of any other women. I had changed. Fear and loathing had burnt away all my old desires and all I wanted was what I had previously cast aside in anger and indifference. I wanted my wife and my baby.

Pria slept soundly on her new medication and never touched me. The vomiting had stopped and she began to eat with a vengeance. There was no food item that was safe from her ravenous eyes. Before Andy and John left to go home for Christmas, we nestled ourselves safely into a routine of going out for dinner. Pria and I didn’t talk anymore. But when they flew away, the floodgate opened and I knew that the time had come to pay for my sins.

Pria planned the rest of the Christmas holiday. I didn’t question or fight her, but I hated every step of the week left ahead of me. It began with a long drive to Orange Beach, where my mother lived in her castle by the sea. We arrived on a petulant afternoon. Thunder burnt the sky and lightning tickled the black clouds with its brilliant fingers. The day became night in the face of the storm and the once blue waves crashed angrily against the beach.

I hadn’t seen my mother in four years. I rarely called her. I couldn’t completely explain why I had let so much time pass. There were no excuses. I just didn’t like talking to her. I was tired of feeling guilty. I was tired of feeling like I never did enough. No matter what I did for her, no matter how many gifts or phone calls there were, she always made me feel like it wasn’t enough. So I decided if I had to feel like I was letting her down, I might as well enjoy the rewards of actually letting her down. If I had to be told I was a worthless son, I should just become a worthless son.

My mother’s pink stucco house hovered precariously on the edge of the beach. The water licked its concrete feet and kissed the tiny walkway that extended to the water. I braced myself for the worst when Pria rang the doorbell, and was very grateful when Jeremy answered the door. He smiled and embraced me. Brooke wasn’t there, but he was happily drunk. The house was perfect, a stately pleasure dome for my mother. There were no signs of Christmas, yet splendor and luxury lurked in every shadow.

My mother slowly walked in to greet me . She smiled sullenly, the first hints of her evening inebriation already apparent in her unsteady gate.

“Well, the prodigal son returns,” she said in her languid Tennessee drawl.

“I’m no prodigal son,” I said as I gave her the obligatory kiss on the cheek.

My mother looked so different I wouldn’t have been able to pick her out of a crowd. Time had reversed for her and created a creature that was preternaturally youthful without the aura of youth. She had had more plastic surgery than I could even guess at. Her eyes seemed pinched back and her lean form radiated an unnatural light.

“You certainly aren’t,” my mother responded.

Jeremy put an arm around both of our shoulders. “Well, let’s be nice just for tonight. It’s Christmas Eve and tomorrow Pria and Eric will go back to Pria’s family, so what’s the point in arguing?”

My mother hadn’t cooked. I don’t think she ever knew how, but she had purchased a wonderful meal from a caterer. It was surreal sitting on the edge of that petulant sea with all the cotton candy pink décor, eating ham and sweet potatoes on Christmas Eve. I had grown used to Pria’s house at Christmas, littered with odd mismatched Christmas decorations that all lacked the baby Jesus. I liked the way her father dragged all of us to church, even Sadaf, who sat glumly in the corner trying to pretend she wasn’t mocking her own faith. All Pria’s brothers and sisters and their husbands and wives and children crammed into the eclectic house with their assorted faiths and traditions to create a cacophony of culture that mounted up to mean something wonderful. To me, Pria’s family was a testament to the possibility of harmony. Muslims and Catholics and Episcopalians and Baptists can all sit at the same table and eat turkey by the light of a Christmas tree, even if they don’t believe in it.

All of Pria’s cousins, Hindu, Muslim, Baptist, would sit and wait with gleeful anticipation for presents and candy. The house vibrated with life, and within its walls, so did Pria. She smiled and helped her mother cook Indian food in the kitchen while her aunt cooked turkey and fried okra. Pria’s father was a very wealthy man. He managed one of the big outlets in Foley and had made a killing doing so. Their house was huge, large enough to accommodate their enormous family. Everyone laughed. Women in saris swung by talking in various languages I couldn’t comprehend. Pria’s father was like an old Roman
pater familias
. He was generous with all of his extended family and people flocked to him. He gave out massive gifts with a wink and, during the holidays, charity was always the most important thing. Pria’s mother hung off his arm dutifully. She smiled and basked in the warmth of his love. She knew that much of her family wouldn’t talk to her, but she said it had been worth it. Ron was an honorable man and an admirable father. Happiness was everywhere. Pria played with the children and wrapped presents. I loved Christmas with Pria’s family.

My mother’s house, by contrast, was a dead place. There was no faith there. There was no culture. It was an empty shell where we all sat in uncomfortable silence despite all of our similarities. My mother just kept drinking more and more until her plastic face burned with the flush of the drink. Jeremy served food and talked about work and Pria tried to help him fill the silence with talk of our new house in Foley. Jeff lit a cigarette.

“You can’t smoke here,” I said.

Jeff laughed. “I know you think you’re better than the rest of us, but this isn’t your house and you don’t make the rules here.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I responded. “I don’t think I’m better than anyone. I just don’t want Pria exposed to smoke.”

Pria flushed and smiled. “Now is as good a time as any,” she said to me. She placed a hand on Jeff’s and smiled so sweetly he immediately put the cigarette out. “I’m pregnant,” Pria announced to everyone at the table. She looked at my mother, “You’re going to be a grandmother, Anne.”

My mother laughed and cried at the same time and then she turned to me. “Will I even see my grandchild?” Her accusation hung in the air.

“Mom, don’t do this,” Jeremy began.

“Do what?” Anne said. “I haven’t seen him in four years. I haven’t even heard from you since the wedding, and now this? You show up here and tell me you’re having a baby and I’m supposed to be, what? Happy?”

Pria always surprised me. She could be as sweet as lavender, but in a moment she could become the devil himself in all his rage and angst. She turned on my mother with a ferocity I hadn’t seen in years. “What did you expect? Are you so disconnected from reality that you don’t even realize how crazy you are and how cruel you’ve been? It was an act of mercy and forgiveness for us to come here, and I regret it already. Did you forget our wedding day?”

“You little bitch,” my mother said. “That wasn’t my fault. I only said the truth.”

“Stop!” Jeremy yelled. “Can’t we pretend to be a family for one night?”

The women ignored Jeremy.

“What truth? You have a brilliant son that you have used as your emotional crutch for his entire life. I’m sorry your husband was a cheating bastard. I really am, but you should have done something about it. It wasn’t Eric’s job to carry your baggage. I love your son and I’m no whore for loving him.”

“Eric was my baby!” My mother was crying drunken, sloppy tears. “He was all I had. He was the one who took care of me. You stole him. He wasn’t ready. He was a baby and he was mine.”

I stood up calmly. I had spent years locked up with my mother’s hysteria. It no longer had any impact on me. I had made a choice to avoid it and as I looked at her across the table, wrapped in my father’s money and utterly alone, I realized it had been the right choice. I extended my hand to Jeremy.

“Thanks for trying, man,” I said to him. “It would have been nice if it had worked out. We’ll get together after New Years.”

“Oh!” my mother wailed. “So you’re running away again. Giving up. Every time anything gets hard you just run away. You aren’t a man. You’re a scared little boy. You never cared about this family.”