Authors: Allen McGill
The door chimes sounded. Vicky stood, straightening to full height, smoothed her dress and patted her hair. With the poise of a diva, she crossed to the door and opened it wide.
“Mother! Mom!
Mamá
! Mutter!” came the cries from the men at the door and, in one tidal rush, they stormed through to hug her, kiss her, and literally sweep her off her feet. They carried her to a sofa, then sat or knelt in a semi-circle around her.
“Well, well, well,” Vicky said with Mae West sultriness. “It seems you boys are glad to see me. But
ya
betta
be careful, fellas, I could annul your adoptions,
ya
know. I might just wanna marry one a you handsome brutes, one a these days.”
“
Me!
Moi
!
Ich
!”
they chorused in unison, and then broke into laughter.
“Where are your families?” Vicky asked, looking back toward the door. “Aren’t they coming?”
“I’m carrying mine,” Teddy announced, patting his corpulent belly. He joined the ensuing laughter, adding, “They’ll all be along soon. We just wanted you all to ourselves for a little while.”
“How sweet of you all,” Vicky said, truly touched. “I do love you all, so very much.” She looked from one face to the next. They were all middle-aged men now, and as different in looks as sugar and honey. But in their devotion to Vicky and Gerald, and their love, they were identical. She kissed each son with maternal warmth.
An hour had passed before they realized it. They’d exchanged stories, anecdotes, even off-color stories—mainly from Vicky. The boys roared at her exploits in
Pennsylvania
. So engrossed were they in her stories that, when the door chimes rang, they started.
“The girls,” Gino announced, rising.
“Women,” Vicky said as he went to the door. Children are never too old to be corrected by their mother.
“
Nana
!” the women and children cried, busting into the room as if were the first day of a two-for-one sale.
Everyone but Vicky’s boys called her
Nana,
at her insistence. At last count, there were ten adults who
could
call her Mother, twenty-odd young people who
could
call her Grandma, and a number of toddlers who
could
call her great-Grandma. Vicky was proud of her age, but felt that an onlooker might think she’d spent her entire life in heat!
The room was filled with laughter and squealing children, adding to the sparkle of the room itself. Red pillows on the chairs took on added brightness and the light through the windows took on a new vigor.
Vicky kissed and fondled each child, petted the infants, and laughed with all their mothers. She and the room were ebullient, vivacious and celebratory.
The door chimes rang for a third time and a little boy about four years old rushed for it.
“
NO
!” Vicky cried. The room stilled, shock sapping all sound and motion in the flash of one word.
The little boy—Vicky had long since given up trying to remember all of the children’s names—stood stock still, confusion twisting his face to near-bawling.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Vicky said softly, without looking at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, but Nana will answer the door. Now, go to mama.” Unsure, the boy backed away, made a wide circle around her and returned to his mother.
“It’s
,” Vicky announced to all.
“Oh! Already? Wonderful!” they exclaimed. An excited bustling stirred in the room as the children were brought into familial folds, all faces abeam with expectation. A path widened between Vicky and the door, and all faces turned to her.
Vicky felt her heart flutter within her. She faced the door and stepped toward it slowly, hesitantly, extending the feeling of exquisite anticipation. With a shaking hand, she reached for the knob and turned it, drawing the door open. She looked down into the face of the man waiting outside, the shock of white hair, the full thick mustache above smiling lips.
“Hello, darling,” she said, straining through the tears that threatened to silence her, trying to laugh, but managing only to sob.
Gerald looked up at with adoring, deep blue eyes, glinting with clarity beneath white brows. He raised his right hand from the wheelchair controls and held it out to her. “My exquisite
Victoria
,” he said. “You have never been lovelier.” He drew her hand to him and held it to his lips for very long moments.
They were alone in a roomful of family.
Stooping, Vicky took his hand and held it to her cheek. She caressed his face as she knelt to kiss him tenderly on the lips. Pressing her cheek to his, she whispered in his ear, “I’ve missed you so, my darling, more than ever before. You’ve been with me every minute of every day. I love you more than I can say.”
Gerald squeezed her fingers with his one working hand. “If you didn’t,” he said, “I’d never let you leave. I’ve missed you, too…more than you can ever know.”
Vicky kissed him again, then stood to greet the broad-shouldered man who had stepped out of sight when the door opened. He now stood behind Gerald’s wheelchair. “Hello, Sean,” she said, reaching for his hand. He had the softest hands she’d ever known a man to have. She rose on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”
“Same ‘ere, Mrs. B.” Sean responded. His brogue hadn’t diminished one iota in the twenty years he’d been in
America
.
“Vicky,” she corrected, with half-hearted sternness.
“Oh, right, Mrs. B,” Sean rejoined, grinning broadly. “Whatever you say…Mrs. B.”
It was a game they’d played since Sean first joined the
Bannings
, as nurse, companion and mainly friend, two years after Gerald’s accident, seventeen years ago. He refused to call Vicky by her first name—
it would be disrespectful in the auld country
, he claimed—but his one concession, after Vicky had refused to hear him if he called her Mrs. Banning, was to shorten it to Mrs. B.
Though he never seemed to leave Gerald’s side, somehow the powerful, craggy-faced Irishman managed to marry and sire six children while in the
Banning’s
employ. He bestowed upon Gerald and Vicky the respect and love of another devoted son. If not for his exquisite care of Gerald, Vicky would never have been able to continue the lifestyle that she and Gerald had chosen…
“And how has my darling been behaving himself at the nursing spa?” Vicky asked. “Still giving the therapists a hard time?”
“Only when a new one comes in who doesn’t know about his active good hand, and ‘
appens
to bend over within his reach,” Sean said with a chuckle.
Vicky chuckled along with him, delighted that Gerald was still “perky.” She slapped his wrist. “Haven’t changed a bit, have you, love?” She pressed her fingers onto his shoulder, saying, “Come in. Everyone’s waiting to see you.” Softer, she added, “I’ll have you all to myself later.”
Sean started to push the chair forward, but Gerald called, “No, I want to show off my new ‘toy.’” He tilted his head up to flirt with Vicky. “If I keep improving like this, I might soon be able to answer your letters myself.”
“Oh, dear,” Vicky said, looking worried. “Then I’ll have to learn how to read, won’t I?”
Gerald motioned for Vicky to lean down to him. “Watch the children’s faces,” he whispered, then pushed a lever, propelling the chair forward into the room. He sped across to where a group of youngsters were massed together gaping at the moving chair, then revved it up, sending them squealing and laughing in all directions, before throwing on the brake. In a moment, Gerald was lost in a throng of delighted children of all ages.
“
Righto
!” he announced. “Who wants a ride on Grandpa’s magic throne?”
Vicky started to object, but Sean stopped her. “He’ll be just
foin
,” he said, “as long as he takes only the littler tykes. He’s been
practicin
’ for weeks just to surprise you and the others.”
“He looks wonderful,” Vicky said, her eyes never straying from Gerald. “And it’s all due to you. I thank you with all my heart for taking such good care of him. Is he really doing as well as he looks?”
“Beautifully, Mrs. B,” Sean replied. “Never gives up. Never stops trying. And it’s all for you. O’ course he’s especially vigorous when he gets one of your daily—if I may say so—
wacky
letters telling him what you’ve been up to, laughs over it for days. He reads it first to himself, time and again, then he asks me to read it to him while he sits smiling with his eyes closed to imagine you doing all the things you describe. Sometimes he reads them to the others, as well.”
“He’s still happy there, then?”
“Yes, mum. He enjoys being among people and the other patients just love him. He gives them encouragement and hope, and receives it in return. A remarkable give and take. He practically runs the place.” Sean paused, then added, “Make no mistake, mum. He misses having you with him desperately, but wouldn’t change the present arrangement in any way. He delights in you being free. Would you mind if I asked you a question?”
“Of course not, Sean,” Vicky said, surprised that he felt he had to ask. “Anything.”
“Do you really do all the things you write about?”
Vicky laughed. “Every one. Gerald and I have never lied to each other and I wouldn’t dream of starting at this late stage for any reason. Sometimes I have a rough time thinking up things that will keep him entertained.”
“But you must get worn to a dither,” Sean said. “Don’t you sometimes want to slow down, at least a little?”
“Sure, “Vicky admitted. “Occasionally. But I do enjoy living the way I do…at least I’ve convinced myself that I do. It’s not only for Gerald’s sake that I carry on, you realize, it’s for myself as well. And the longer I continue with my ‘adventures,’ as Gerald calls them, the more convinced I become that old Dr. Craig was right. He was one of Gerald’s first doctors, and an old family friend. That was years ago, before you joined us. He told me that if I stayed with Gerald, spending every waking moment at Gerald’s side, that neither of us would survive. After two years we had nothing to talk about, laugh about. We were smothering each other with our mutual devotion, watching each other disintegrate and not realizing we were the cause of it.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“But the worse thing was that, for the first time in our lives, we bored each other, and everyone else who came to visit.” She smiled sadly. “We’d listen to the radio, all those lovely, romantic songs. ‘Love blooms eternal,’ the lyrics insisted, but forgot that blooms need sunshine and water and food, or they shrivel up and die. We had never stopped moving, and now we didn’t move at all—and we hated it, both for ourselves individually and for each other.
“It was the hardest decision we’d ever had to make in our lives, to agree to separate. That’s when you came to take care of Gerald; you remember what we were like: gray people, growing grayer and feebler. All these years I’ve never been able to talk about our voluntary separation. No one would understand it, no one who hadn’t been in the same situation. Our boys have never been able to fully accept our decision, so an outsider certainly wouldn’t.”
The telephone across the room rang and Vicky watched
Pierre
lift it up.
“But you can’t keep running forever, Mrs. B.,” Sean said. “Neither of you can last that long and afterwards you’ll realize how much time you’ve lost…”
“Oh, I don’t intend to keep running,” Vicky said with a laugh. She placed her hand in Sean’s, gave it a warm squeeze. “Don’t you worry, my dear Sean. When we both grow tired enough to want nothing more than quiet comfort with each other, then we’ll join hands like this. But actually you’re right; time is moving too quickly for both of us now and I’ve made some contingency arrangements. I think maybe the time has come…
“
Mamá
,”
Pierre
called, raising his arm. “Telephone for you!”
Annoyed, Vicky called back, “Tell them I’m busy. Tell them…no, wait. I’ll take it.” She crossed the room, stopping to run her fingers through Gerald’s hair and receive a kiss on her palm, then went to
Pierre
and took the phone. “Vicky Banning speaking.” She listened for a few moments, then shouted, “
Fabulous
! Hold all of them and I’ll get back to you in just a few hours with the final count. Thank you!”
The room had quieted at her outburst and everyone turned to look at her as she hung up.
“I’ve just gotten a confirmation for a cruise to the South Pacific leaving next month,” Vicky announced to all. “Two whole months on the open seas, visiting all those exotic islands and
New Zealand
and
Australia
and…”