Elizabeth's Daughter (3 page)

  Elizabeth caught Martha’s study of her. “I did it, didn’t I? I bored you.”

  “No, Elizabeth, you... you amaze me. I never knew you had so much... poetry. I
really
see your room of weavers. This display is like a spiritual experience for you, isn’t it?” Martha asked.

  “What an uncanny word choice. Whenever I go into an oriental carpet store, or even into my own rug-making room, I’ve always thought the carpets are like church stained glass windows, only opaque.”

  “So they are!”” Martha exclaimed.

  After that they took a more leisurely, attentive stroll through the exhibit. Elizabeth was amazed to see that Martha listened carefully to every bit of information she shared. Whenever she and Martha had been together before, Martha talked and Elizabeth listened.

  In fact, Elizabeth thought with life-changing insight, everyone has always talked and I have always listened. And now, I begin to talk, as well as listen.

  Afterwards they went to Chez Cafe for a late lunch.

  “Are you losing weight?” Martha asked Elizabeth when they were seated.

  “I think so. This dress used to fit better, anyway. I haven’t had much interest in food lately. I’m home alone, no one to cook for, so I don’t cook, no one to eat with, so I don’t often eat.”

  “I see,” Martha said. “I thought you were on a diet.”

  “No. Why would I go on a diet? I’m not fat.”

  “That’s what I was about to say. But there’s something else different about you too... what is it?”

  “Well, I, I bought some mascara a couple days ago.”

  “Ah, yes,” Martha said. “I guess that, and the weight you’ve lost, accounts for your huge, waif-like eyes.”

  “Waif-like?”

  “I mean that as a compliment. The wise-yet-innocent look.”

  “Wise-yet-innocent. But... plain.”

  “Are you nuts? You’re darling. I wish to goodness I looked half as pretty as you do with so little make-up.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “I am
not
. I’ve never said any such thing to any woman in my life!”

  The waitress brought their salads. When she left Martha went on, “my dear girl, get some confidence! I don’t know where it’s supposed to come from all of a sudden, after a lifetime of Miss House Mouse, but work on it.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I know. I’m pathetic. I don’t have a clue!” Then she told Martha about driving around in her grandfather’s car, and the attention she thought she was getting, which had truly mystified her. “And all they were all interested in was that old car of Grandfather’s!”

  Martha laughed so hard she had to put her fork down and stop eating. “Oh, geez, Lizzie, what a picture, you cowering in the shadow of the giant beer-belly. And he was only after your fifty-six.”

  “Well, I’m relieved to learn that it’s a funny story. I thought it was rather sad.”

  “No, sweetie. Loosen up! Some things are simply
so
ridiculous
.”

  Elizabeth scowled.

  “Isn’t it funny?” Martha insisted. “Come on now.... “

  “And you call that car a ‘fifty-six’ too! There’s a whole language out here in the...
world...
that I don’t know anything about. I’m an alien in my own culture.”

  Martha shook her head. “It just so happens that your car’s a classic, it also happens that you didn’t know it. But now you do. Now you can join the rest of civilization... out here.” Martha’s tone was droll. “You’re free now, honey, so take advantage of it
and
grow!”

  Elizabeth suddenly started to cry. Shocked, she grabbed the napkin out of her lap and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m
sorry
!” she whispered to Martha. “I
have
been realizing I’m free and I can do things. If you only knew the emotions I went through the other night when I bought a
Mademoiselle
and Dr. Pepper! I felt as wild as if I’d held up a convenience store. I felt guilty doing things Grandfather disapproved of, I felt happy to have things I’ve always wanted, I felt angry at not having been allowed to have that freedom before. And then I felt guilty again.

  “And now you say... you say exactly that.” Elizabeth pulled herself together, and sat up straight. “I want to sell the so-called ‘
fifty-six
.’ I want to get something ordinary and new.”

  Martha reached over and patted Elizabeth’s hand. “You can sell it or trade it, you can get something snazzy or plain, you can buy any magazine or beverage. Even wine. In fact, let’s have a glass right now. Let’s celebrate your coming of age.”

  “Yes, let’s,” Elizabeth agreed, smiling. “Almost a decade late.”

  “Or, perhaps it’s right on time.” Martha flagged the waitress, chatted with her about wines and ordered something while Elizabeth sat feeling very much like a ten-year-old out to lunch with someone who knew what she was doing.

  When the waitress went scurrying off, Martha turned back to Elizabeth. “Get out that pad and pencil of yours,” she ordered, retrieving her iphone, “here’s my car dealer’s number. Tell him I sent you and he’ll make you a deal.”

  “He will?”

  “Of course! He owes me. I gave him the best three months of his life. He’s dying to do me a favor.”

  “Oh!” Elizabeth said, embarrassed.

  “Now, Elizabeth,” Martha said, “don’t get all weird. Another thing you’ll have to learn to take in stride is that sex is a part of life too.”

  “Yes, yes, I know it is,” Elizabeth agreed, “I just don’t want any details.”

  “Well then, I’ll keep the details.” Martha smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow. “The point here is business. My friend Edward will help you unload the fifty-six, he’ll help you figure out what you’d like instead, and then he’d better give you a good deal, or I’ll want to know the reason why!”

  The waitress returned with a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine. 

  “Drink your wine,” Martha ordered.

  Elizabeth drank her wine. A feeling of lightness rose right to the top of her head, and blossomed all through her, right to her toes, totally dispelling her brooding, dark, mood.

  For the first time in her life Elizabeth became inebriated, or at least she thought she must be, as everything Martha said after the first glass of wine seemed ridiculously funny. She giggled until she thought her teeth would fall out. But Martha was giggling too, so, Elizabeth decided, even if she were making a spectacle of herself, at least she wasn’t alone. She wasn’t too sure how many glasses she had, but she did notice that Martha had only poured herself one glass.That made her feel safe and then, some time later, Martha drove Elizabeth home.

Chapter V

Close to dawn, Elizabeth heard her grandfather’s voice. It came through her sleep, urgent and insistent. Elizabeth wanted very much to understand what he was trying to tell her
–
he said
something
about an amethyst. She became wide awake in the effort of trying to understand him. In that first instant between sleep and wakefulness, she could have sworn the shadow of her grandfather stood at the end of her bed, but at that same instant, a ray of sun peeked through the blinds and he disappeared.

  It was then that she realized the percussion section of a marching band stomped through her head.
So!
This was a hangover.

  She longed for a glass of orange juice. Dragging herself down the back stairs into the kitchen, she coaxed what little juice she could from two sad and wizened-looking oranges she found in the bottom of the refrigerator, well on their way to making a wine of their own.

  As she sat at the kitchen table, head in hand, she tried to shake the intense, strange dream that woke her. “I think I must move out of this house.” She looked at her clutch purse on the kitchen table where she’d flung it when she came in last night. What was she supposed to do? She picked up the purse, and under it she saw the note pad she’d carried around yesterday. Oh! The car dealer.

  Well, first she’d have to see what condition her finances were in. Still wobbly and deciding that wine was perhaps not the best beverage of choice for her, she went into Grandfather’s study, where she called the bank and asked the teller the balance of her personal savings account. As she recalled, she had around a thousand dollars. She hoped that her savings in combination with Grandfather’s car would make a down payment on a new, small car.

  “Twenty-one thousand, thirty-three dollars and seventy-two cents,” the teller told Elizabeth a few moments later.

  Elizabeth forgot her headache. “Excuse me?” she said, “I asked for the balance of the savings account of Elizabeth Morris.”

  “Yes. That’s it... barring any activity yesterday or today.”

  “The last I knew, I had about a thousand dollars.”

  The teller giggled. “Well, you do, plus over twenty more to keep it company. Would you like to speak with the manager?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  “Hold, please.”

  A few moments later another woman came on the phone. “Good morning, Miss Morris. I’m sorry if there’s some confusion. I thought you were aware of the financial arrangements since your grandfather passed.”

  “No. I’m supposed to talk with his attorney, but I haven’t yet. I’ve been
–
I haven’t been in the mood.”

  “I understand. To clarify, your grandfather had twenty thousand dollars put in your passbook savings. Then you have your trust of one-hundred-seventy-five thousand per year in an easy-to-access money market account. And of course there are the long term accounts in your name now and a few other financial instruments. If you’d like to make an appointment to come in and talk, I’d be happy to discuss the details with you.”

  Elizabeth, stunned, stared at the black bakelite base of the old rotary dial telephone. “Yes, I’ll do that. Monday morning, about ten?”

  “That’ll be fine,” the manager said.

  “So I can buy a car?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I would say yes,” the bank manager answered. “You could buy any reasonably priced car you fancy.”

  “Well, thank you,” Elizabeth said.

  “Always our pleasure, Miss Morris.”

  After she hung up, she hurried upstairs to shower and dress. “Any car I fancy. Hmmm. I’ll be happy with something plain and easy to handle. You’re right again, Martha!”

  Elizabeth pulled onto the 5 freeway south, headed for the Irvine Auto Complex. When she arrived, she walked shyly into the pristine showroom, surrounded by the shining hides of new cars like a herd of quiet, immaculate livestock, waiting to be lassoed and ridden to their new homes.

  Elizabeth went to the back of the showroom behind a plate glass wall and approached the Barbie Doll-looking receptionist sitting behind a metal desk, seriously engrossed in a magazine.

  “Excuse me,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes?” the young woman gave Elizabeth a vacuous glance from her plastic-like blue eyes.

  “Is Edward Vance here?”

  “He’s out back with a customer.” She returned her attention to the magazine.

  “I see,” Elizabeth said. “Is there... should I... I need to talk with him.”

  “Who may I say is here?”

  “He doesn’t know me. I’m a friend of a friend of his. My name is Elizabeth Morris.”

  The receptionist picked up a mic. “Edward, Elizabeth Morris is here to see you,” blasted over a probable mile radius.

  “He doesn’t know me,” Elizabeth reiterated after the walls stopped echoing.

  The young woman shrugged. “I can’t help that.”

  Elizabeth wandered among the new cars, trying to visualize owning any one of them. They all looked too flamboyant in their showy spotlights.

  A young mother came through the front door, pushing a baby stroller. The pretty baby immediately caught Elizabeth’s attention. Elizabeth smiled at the baby and the baby smiled back. The mother caught the interchange and smiled too. She ambled toward Elizabeth.

  “Goodness!” she said confidentially, “my husband told me to look for a car I like? But I don’t know, look at all of them!”

  “I’m having the same problem,” Elizabeth said. “I mean, not that my  husband... that is, I’m not married. I mean, I’m trying to decide what I like, but I don’t know. Everything looks so flashy.”

  The young mother nodded.

  “You have a beautiful baby,” Elizabeth said, finding the little girl with the golden brown curls and the sea green eyes far more attractive and interesting than the cars.

  “Well,
we
think so,” the mother agreed. “But then there’s nothing less objective than a mother’s opinion of her child. I try and keep it in perspective.”

  “Oh no!” Elizabeth protested, “she really is beautiful and so
still
, as if she’s having very deep thoughts.”

  The mother laughed. “I thought it was just me, but I guess if someone else sees it... she
does
seem to be deep, or very sober. She’s only one-and-a-half, but she seems as if, I don’t know, as if her last life taught her patience, as if she’s a very old soul.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth agreed. She kneeled down in front of the baby and looked deep into her round eyes. The baby looked back steadily. “You probably still remember a lot of things from the other side, don’t you, pretty little baby?” Elizabeth wanted to touch the baby’s soft white hand, but restrained herself.

  “Elizabeth Morris?” a man asked behind her.