The Perfect Family (17 page)

Gertrude snapped, “Wait till you’re married to criticize, young lady.”

Given Jamie’s comments at dinner, and now Allison’s, Maggie realized how the younger generation seemed to stand up to her mother more than she and Sara did. Feeling abashed by that, Maggie straightened and faced her mother. “Mike cleans up at our house. So does Brian. We all pitch in.”

Her sister shot her an annoyed look. “Well, you always did have people spoil you.”

“Yeah, as if Dad doesn’t spoil
you
, Mom.” Allison again. Her pretty eyes held a hint of rebellion.

“Maggie’s
husband
needs spoiling,” Gertrude said. “He seems exhausted. Probably from all he does around the house. Even the grocery shopping. In my day, I never would’ve made your father go to the store.”

Maggie’s heart rate escalated and she busied herself with drying the pans Sara was washing. But her mind hurtled back to when she was five and forced to go grocery shopping with her mother because Caroline was at school and Maggie was too little to leave home alone…

The Food Mart was huge, noisy and big people bumped Ma’s cart all the time. With each nudge, her mother’s face became more pinched. “We gotta hurry. Mary Margaret, go get the milk from the cooler.”

“I don’t wanna, Ma.” The milk was up high and she couldn’t always reach it.

“Jesus Christ, it’s right around the corner. I can’t do all this alone. You have to earn your keep. Now go or you’ll get it when you get home.”

Maggie’s new pink sneakers, that Caroline had bought her with babysitting money, dragged on the floor as she traipsed away in search of milk. When she reached the refrigerator section she shivered in her light T-shirt.

She looked up, then to the sides, but the milk wasn’t here. Somebody had moved it. Oh, no, what was she going to do?

“Can I help you, young lady?” a woman asked.

Never talk to strangers
, Caroline had said.

So Maggie shook her head and ran back to find her mother. But she ended up in another aisle. Ma was nowhere in sight.

Maggie tried two more aisles—there were so many—but couldn’t find Gertrude. The chatter and clangs of carts got louder and the store got noisier by the minute. Closing her eyes, Maggie dropped down on the floor and covered her ears. The tile was freezing cold on her bare legs.

Suddenly, somebody was shaking her shoulder. She peered up and saw two men from the store and her mother standing over her. “Here’s your mom, sweetheart,” one man said. “We found her.”

Gertrude’s lips thinned. “I got her now. Thank you.”

When the men left, she yanked Maggie up by the arm so hard it made her wince. “How could you embarrass me like this? Everybody heard about you over the loudspeaker. Just wait till we get home…”

“Aunt Maggie, are you all right?” Allison had touched Maggie’s shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am, sweetie. I just zoned out.”

She pasted on a smile.

Sara gave her a questioning look.

Her mother said, “I thought you were ignoring me because I scolded you about Mike.” Not a trace of apology in the statement. Maggie had never heard the words “I’m sorry” come out of her mother’s mouth.

“No, I’m not. But I wish you wouldn’t harp on me about taking better care of him.”

Gertrude’s eyes slitted. For a minute, Maggie was paralyzed by the expression on her mother’s face. She was right back in the grocery store, in that life, when Gertrude had complete control over her.

Her mother’s hands went to her temples dramatically. “I’m getting a headache from Mary Margaret’s attack. Sara, I have to lay down.”

Haley approached her. “Come on, Grandma. I’ll help you to your room.”

After they left, Sara’s face was flushed and her shoulders stiff. “Did you have to do that?”

“In some ways, yes.”

“I’ll bear the brunt of it, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Tell her that.”

“I’m not sorry for what I said to her. I’m sorry it will affect you.”

“You can’t change her, Maggie. And trying upsets everybody.”

“I think it’s a sin what Grandma did to your sister.” Allison’s tone was full of contempt. “Don’t you, Aunt Maggie?”

“Yes, I do.”

She asked Sara, “Mom, don’t you miss your sister?”

“I hardly remember her. I think it best that we don’t talk about her. When will you learn that you can’t control everything, Maggie?”

Allison started to speak, and Sara held up her hand. “Be quiet, young lady. This isn’t your concern.”

Throwing the dishcloth on the table, Allison said, “Fine, Mother,” and stormed out.

“See what you’ve done now.”

Maggie’s strength deserted her and she white knuckled the counter for physical support. First, Jamie’s confrontation with Brian last week. Then the tension between her and Mike. Add that to her mother’s constant criticism, and suddenly, one of the secrets she’d been keeping was too much for her. She needed to talk about Caroline. So she purposely softened her voice. “Sara, let’s not fight. Something’s happened that we’re going to have to stand together on.”

Her sister’s face filled with concern and Maggie was reminded of Sara’s kind streak. Once, when Maggie contracted food poisoning and was hospitalized for four days, Sara came at night after Mike and the boys left to sit with her. When Brian injured his back at baseball practice and needed a week of bed rest, she brought magazines and games for his computer over to their house throughout his recuperation.

“What is it, Mags?”

“Caroline called me. Well, her daughter phoned first, then she did.”

Sara’s hand went to her mouth and she leaned against the sink.

Maggie rushed on to get it all out. “Her husband died and her daughter, Teresa, that’s our niece’s name, called because she was worried about Caroline.”

“Oh, my God. She’s had a whole life we don’t know about.”

“And she was happy. We should be glad about that.”

Sara stood stock still, staring at Maggie.

“It’s okay, Sara. Caroline’s a wonderful person.”

Finally Sara asked, “How much have you talked to her?”

“Weekly, and we send e-mail.”

“When did Teresa call?”

“At Christmas time.”

“You’ve known since then and haven’t told me?”

“I was waiting until Caroline said I could.”

Sara gasped. “Oh, my God, Ma will never be able to handle this.”

Maggie lifted her chin. “She’s going to have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because in May, Caroline’s coming to see us.”

*

When Jamie left the kitchen, he was pissed. He couldn’t stand seeing what his grandma did to his mother. What he’d just witnessed made him count his blessings. The situation with his dad wasn’t good, but he had his mom’s support. Bypassing the TV room because he didn’t want to see Brian, he trundled down to the Bakers’ finished basement, thinking he’d use the computer there. He booted it up and sent for his e-mail. He was scanning the list in his inbox when he heard someone on the stairs. He hoped it was Allison or Haley.

It wasn’t. Over his shoulder, he saw his father walking toward him. Up close, his dad seemed haggard, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. “Hi, Jame. Grandma give you a hard time?”

This was safe ground, one they’d bonded over for a long time. “Not me so much. She’s ragging on Mom. Why doesn’t Mom stand up to her?”

His dad dropped down on a stuffed chair adjacent to the computer. “You know Mom’s been to therapy about this, right?”

“Yeah, sure, she always says the people who
don’t
go get help are the crazy ones.”

“I think she discovered that trying to change Grandma was pointless and would only cause her more pain. Grandma’s what some books call an irregular person, and trying to change her basic beliefs and personality only causes your mother heartache.”

Jamie felt his throat clog. “Is that a subtle message to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you trying to tell me you and Brian aren’t going to change your minds about me?”

His father’s jaw dropped. Deep hurt etched itself out in his face. “God, Jamie, do you see me in league with your grandmother?”

“No, I don’t.” He sighed heavily. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course. I always want that.”

“Sometimes, you know, your religious beliefs seem more important to you than I am.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry you think that. Sure, my faith is important, but Mom, you, and Brian are the most important things to me.”

“Not God?”

“The God I believe in would want me to love you as I do. Besides, I see God as the center of my life, as part of all my relationships. I feel one with God. He’s integral to my feelings for you three.”

Though Jamie didn’t fully understand what his father was saying, probably because he never experienced God that way, his dad’s explanation made him feel a little better.

“But I have to be honest, son. I’m still struggling with the church’s views on homosexuality and how they apply to you.”

“Love the sinner, hate the sin? What do you think, Dad, that I’m going to hell if I love another guy? Have sex with him?”

“There are sinners in heaven, son.”

Jamie froze. The statement just about killed him. “That’s how you see me? As a sinner?”

“We’re all sinners.”

“Not because of who we are. Other people sin by action. You think I’m sinful because of the person I am.” He felt his eyes blur. “And you don’t even realize how awful it feels having you say that to me.” He swiveled around to the computer. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

His father was silent, then Jamie heard him stir, and from the corner of his eye, saw him stand. He didn’t come to Jamie, didn’t hug him like before or even put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He only said, “I’ll never abandon you, Jamie, and neither will God.”

His back to his father, he said, “In a way, Dad, you already have.”

*

The dream came to Maggie that night.

Jamie was three and Brian four. Wearing Oshkosh overalls and little blue high-top sneakers, they were strolling down their street, Autumn Lane, holding on to Maggie’s hands, and suddenly the location changed. It became Second Street, where Maggie had grown up in Cornwall. On a hill, the road was lined with older homes in a predominately Italian neighborhood from which the scent of spicy spaghetti sauce often wafted. The boys were singing a song from
Sesame Street
and Maggie was laughing at their off-key rendition of Big Bird’s adventures.

Then, her mother came toward them. She wore her usual house dress and her perpetual frown. “What are you
doing
?” Gertrude yelled when she reached them.

“Taking the boys for a walk.”

“What will the neighbors think?”

Used to that refrain, Maggie tried to divert her mother from her unreasonable anger. “Say hi to Grandma, guys.”

Breaking free, Brian raced to her mother and buried his face in the folds of her skirt. “Nana.”

Her mother caressed his neck. “My boy,” she murmured.

Jamie tended to emulate his brother. He ran to Grandma, too.

But Gertrude jumped back and held up the palm of her hand. “Don’t.”

Maggie’s little son stopped short. “Nana?”

Gertrude looked at Maggie accusingly. “He’s a bad seed.”

Scooping Jamie up into her arms, Maggie cuddled him close. “Ma, how can you say that?”

“He is, and it’s your fault. I’m taking Brian to live with me so you don’t ruin him, too. Come on, darling,” she said, leading the boy down the concrete sidewalk.

“No,” Maggie screamed. “You can’t have him. He’s mine.”

She tried to pick up her feet, get some momentum to rescue her son, but she was stuck, rooted to the ground. “No, come back. Bring Brian back to me.”

“It’s your fault,” her mother called out again and kept walking.

Brian held his grandma’s hand with undiluted trust. He had no idea what emotional atrocities the woman would inflict on him.

Gulping for air, Maggie found herself sitting up in bed, in the room she shared with Mike, in the home they’d made together.

He had hold of her arms. “Honey, are you all right?”

Her eyes focused. “Oh, God, oh.”

“You were calling your mother’s name.”

“She stole Brian away from me and told me it was my fault she had to take him.”

“Brian’s in his room. So is Jamie. And I’m right here. Everyone’s safe. We’re all fine.”

Maggie shivered. Even poised on the fence between fantasy and reality, she knew that statement was false. Everyone wasn’t fine and she feared, like in the dream, she was losing what was most important to her.

*

The next weekend, Mike and Maggie went to the Rochester Art Gallery where the Clothesline Art show was held every spring. They always arrived at eight to help Gretta and Tim set up a booth for Gretta’s artwork display. Then they stuck around most of the day, shopped, relieved the Chandlers for lunch and enjoyed Gretta’s sales.