Family Inheritance (26 page)

Laughter circled around Suzanne's ears. It was play day, food was abundant, and so
were the opportunities for fun and relaxation. But Suzanne didn't know how to do
either without alcohol, so she sat on a chair, watching as the sun glistened through
the large windows off the water of the pool. The laughter of the splashing adults
seemed to bounce off the walls.

“Suzanne, hi.” Water dripped from Patrice as she ran up to Suzanne. She
had a huge
grin on her face as she held out her hand. “Come swimming with me.”

“No, I . . .” Suzanne squirmed, trying to avoid the cold drops of water bouncing
onto her skin. Irritation was flooding over her, and impatience was pricking at her
nerves. Why in the world were a bunch of adults having a “play day,” as the treatment
program called it? She hadn't played since she was a kid, and she frankly found it
a waste of time. If they took this nonsense out of the schedule, maybe she'd be able
to get out of here sooner.

Not taking no for an answer, Patrice shook her head to create an onslaught of water,
giggled, and grabbed Suzanne's hand. “Come on.”

Suzanne had no intention of being pulled into the antics, but Patrice's playfulness
was contagious, and the little girl in Suzanne started to awaken. Playfulness hadn't
been a part of Suzanne's life for decades, and the child inside of her was hungry
for it. But the adult Suzanne had built a strong façade of seriousness and responsibility,
and it wasn't going to come down easily.

Finally, Suzanne allowed herself to be pulled off the chair and toward the groups
of laughing, splashing, swimming adults. Once she was sure Suzanne was following,
Patrice let go of her hand and ran to the edge of the pool and jumped in.

Suzanne stood at the edge of the pool feeling abandoned. Now what did she do? Where
did she go from here? She hadn't played much when she was a kid. How in the world
was she supposed to learn as an adult? Besides, responsible adults didn't play. Did
they?

Joe, one of the men from her group therapy, waved. “Suzanne, come on in, the water
is great!”

The child in Suzanne surfaced and the water and fun was impossible to resist, so
she cautiously dipped her foot into the water. Someone in the pool splashed her.
The water was cold on her skin, and Suzanne's anger charged to the surface. “Stop
it.”

“No,” a woman answered. “If you don't want to play, get out of the water.”

Rage,
her frequent companion the last couple of days, overtook Suzanne. “Fine, you want
to play, we'll play!” Suzanne jumped into the pool, scooped her hands into the water,
and splashed handful after handful at the woman.
Her intention was to douse the woman
so thoroughly that she would get out of Suzanne's space and leave her alone.

After the first shock of cold water hit her, the woman reacted and started splashing
back. Energies and emotions splashed back and forth as abundantly as the water. Soon
they were both drenched. The woman observed Suzanne and started to laugh. “You look
so funny.” She fell back into the water in gales of laughter.

“You don't look so great either.” At first, Suzanne was enraged, but as she watched
the woman laugh in pure delight, laughter started up in tiny, little giggles. Unsure
of the terrain, it peeked its head out of the hiding place of her soul. Then, little
by little, the child in Suzanne gained strength, and delighted laughter pealed forth
from between her lips as she playfully splashed her companion. When the laughter
had finally eased itself back to a tiny giggle, Suzanne experienced a relief that
was new to her.

“I'm Suzanne.”

“I'm Louise.” The woman danced in circles as she answered.

Suzanne stood on her toes in the water and joined the playful dance. “I can't remember
laughing like that before,” she admitted as she giggled and danced.

“I know. It's new to me, too, but it gets easier,” Louise assured her as she suddenly
slipped into the water and swam away. Suzanne watched her graceful strokes.

Wait. That was fun. Don't leave yet.

“Suzanne, can you swim?” Joe asked as he came up beside her.

Still bubbling with the delight of playing in the water with Louise, she answered,
“Yes, but not too well. It's been a long time.”

“I'll race you to the other end.”

“Okay.” Suzanne slid into the water and swam away. The exercise felt good as her
muscles responded to the demands. The water flowed smoothly under the pull of her
arms, and her breathing was strong and even.

Even though Suzanne had taken a head start, Joe was a stronger swimmer and reached
their destination first, leaning over to help Suzanne up onto the sun-warmed surface.
Several people were lying in the sun, some were dangling their feet in the water,
and others were diving into the pool, climbing back out, and diving in again.

“Boy, that felt good.” Suzanne removed some hair clips and shook her hair so it became
free to fall around her face.

“Why do you always wear your hair pulled back?” Joe asked.

Suzanne had never thought about it before. “I don't know. I always have except—”

“Except?” Joe sat down at the edge of the pool and Suzanne joined him.

For a moment, the sun escaped her view as darkness threatened her. “Except sometimes
toward the end when I was drinking and picking up men.” Her voice became very soft.
“Somebody told me I was pretty, and I actually believed it for a while.”

“Actually,” Joe smiled, “you're gorgeous.”

Suzanne furrowed her brow, and Joe seemingly recognized her wariness. “I don't want
to go to bed with you, Suzanne, so relax.” He grabbed a handful of water and splashed
it at her, causing her to gasp and then grin when she realized that she had gotten
too serious for the playful afternoon.

Joe made a face at her as she kicked her feet in the water, sloshing it at him. “I
want to be your friend.” Letting his voice become serious for just a moment, he confessed,
“I don't know how to be just friends with women, but I'm trying.” Then his eyes sparkled
and he grinned. “I can tell you that you're pretty without wanting something from
you, can't I?”

“Well, sure . . . I guess so.” Suzanne began to make small circles with her toes.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now, let's just talk.”

“About what?” She turned her head toward him as her feet continued to play in the
water.

“I don't know.” He shrugged. “I'm not good at small talk, but I want to learn. So,
let's try it, okay?”

“Sure.” Suzanne agreed. “I'd like that.”

Chapter 32

Atlanta, Georgia

“Lily, I've decided to make a candlelight dinner for Bill and me tonight, so take
the afternoon and night off.” Helene hadn't done much of the cooking in the Foster
household since Lily had started working for them when Thomas was five. Sure, she
would prepare something to eat for her, Bill, and Thomas on Lily's nights off, but
it was usually something simple. Tonight was different. She intended to try to bring
some romance into her relationship, and a candlelight dinner was a good way to start.

Lily was in the dining room, polishing the table. “Why, Mrs. Helene, that's so nice.
What can I do?” She put down her polishing cloth.

“Nothing. Thanks though. I'm going to do this myself.” Helene started to leave the
room and turned back. “Lily?”

“Yes, Mrs. Helene?”

“I feel so funny about this. Almost like I'm embarrassed.” A pink glow formed on
her cheeks. She surprised herself by admitting that to Lily.
You'd think I was sixteen
getting ready for a first date.

Lily walked over and laid her hand on Helene's shoulder. “Mrs. Helene, it's always
awkward when folks try to get close when they're not used to it. I used to feel silly
when I tried with my Jed.”

“You did?” Helene knew Lily had been married, but her husband had
died several years
before she had come to work for them.
Lily, romantic?
A delighted giggle pulled at
the corner of her lips.

“Why, Mrs. Helene, I'm a woman too. I don't think we're all that different no matter
what color, or age, or how rich or poor we are. We all struggle, and we all feel
strange or silly when we try to do things. We all doubt ourselves as women, wives,
and mothers. We just do it at different times and in different ways.”

Helene's arm slipped affectionately around Lily's waist. “You are a wise old soul,
my friend.”

Lily smiled. “Maybe not so wise, just a lot more miles on the old buggy.”

Helene rested her head on Lily's. “I'm glad you're here, Lily. I need you now more
than ever.” And she did. Her life was changing daily, most of it positively, but
the changes often left her feeling unhinged, needing someone solid to hold on to.
Lily was her anchor.

“I'm glad to be here now more than ever.”

“You are?”

“Mmmhmmm,” the older woman murmured.

“Why?”

Lily pinched Helene's cheek and winked at her. “It's like you're waking up from a
long sleep and discovering things.” She touched her finger to the tip of Helene's
nose. “Sort of like a little girl growing up. I just figure you need my caring now
more than ever. Besides, now I don't have to be such a quiet friend. You're just
not as blind as you was.”

“I was pretty blind about a lot of things,” Helene admitted.

“Honey, when you look in the mirror, you see more black than I do.” Lily grinned.

“What do you mean?” Lily's homespun logic and analogies often confused and puzzled
her.

“Well, when I look in the mirror, I see black because I am black. When you look in
the mirror, you see black because you aren't looking at what's there,” Lily stated
matter-of-factly.

Helene shook her head. “Lily, sometimes you talk in riddles.”

“Life is a riddle, Mrs. Helene. Just one great big one.” Lily picked up the polishing
cloth and began to shine the table using small, circular motions.

“You mean a puzzle,
don't you?” Helene asked.

“That too.” Lily smiled. “That too.”

The table was set with china and crystal; shadows from the candlelight danced on
the walls as soft music played in the background. Helene heard Bill's car pull into
the garage and she glanced at the mirror for about the twentieth time in the last
half hour.

Many times during the last two hours of preparation, she had almost stopped the whole
process. She felt juvenile, stupid, anxious, and vulnerable. If it hadn't been for
Laura's encouragement, Helene wouldn't have gotten this far. After their in-depth
conversation last week, Helene and Laura had talked every day. Laura had made James
a candlelight dinner a few nights ago.

“A candlelight dinner? Why?” Helene had asked.

“For romance,” Laura had responded. “It's important to keep the romance alive in
a relationship. And candlelight dinners really help.”

“Oh.” Helene had been sitting in the sunroom curled up on one of the chairs that
faced the pool and the large backyard. Romance felt like a foreign word to her. She
knew it existed, and commercials constantly encouraged purchases as a part of being
romantic. Sure, she and Bill had courted in the beginning, but that was so long ago
that Helene wasn't sure where to start or how Bill would respond if she did.

“You know,” Laura had continued, “several years back, I wanted so desperately for
James to treat me as a lover, but I didn't know how to get him to do that. And I
certainly couldn't ask anybody. So I got my answers the way I always do—through books.”
Laura had laughed. “Every suggestion you can think of is in books, and I was going
to try them all.”

“Like what?” Helene was curious.

“Well, one woman author wrapped herself in plastic wrap and met her husband at the
door.” Laura giggled.

“Plastic wrap? Just plastic wrap? Tell me you didn't do that.”

Gales of laughter had erupted from Laura's end of the phone. “I did. I mean . . .
I tried. And failed.”

“Failed?” Helene chuckled. “What do you mean failed?”

“Helene, it was the funniest thing you've ever seen. I left the kids with a neighbor
to spend the night. Then I went to the store and got all these rolls of plastic wrap
. . . you know, the real sticky kind. I hauled them up to the bedroom and took off
all my clothes. I started winding the plastic around my legs, but I wasn't thinking
too clearly, because instead of wrapping each individual leg, I wrapped them both—mummy-style.”

Fresh laughter erupted.
Where in the world do people come up with these ideas?

“I was concentrating so hard I didn't realize what I had done. I wrapped up all the
way to my chest and crisscrossed it over my shoulders like a gown before I tried
to walk. I couldn't. I had wound it so snugly around my legs.”