Authors: Beverley Andi
Cara hoots
,
“I like a
n
ardent
man
;
one that s
hut
s
up Mother
is
even better
.
Kate
,
you have a powerhouse
with a gentle
voice
.
I would love to see Mother’s face at this moment.
”
As we ta
k
e
the elevator down, Jay
put his arms around me and asks
,
“Does your Mother know a lot of Native New York history?”
“Probably just enough to make dinner conversation
or 20 questions
,
if that’s what you want to call it.”
“Is your Mother always like that or is she like that
because I’m sleeping with her daughter?”
“Yes to both questions.
I’m s
orry if you were uncomfortable.
I totally understand
if you go strai
ght back to Arizona after this.
My parents are an acquired taste.”
Jay laughs and kisses my nose. “To tell you th
e truth I wasn’t uncomfortable.
I was to
o bemused by all I was seeing.
I
t
was like being thrown into a TV sit com.”
“Well
,
stay tuned, Thanksgiving dinner will be next.”
Chapter 8
By
the end of
Nove
mber Jay’s job at the museum has
dried up giving him time to paint all day
.
For a while everything seems fine. Slowly I notice he has
trouble painting.
H
is
crystalline
colors
morph into
muddy
hues
.
He
go
es
for long walks.
He
becomes moody.
I feel
the city is cl
osing in on him.
Once he could
roam the mountains and paint wherever
he cho
se.
I am
caging hi
m in a little patch of garden.
Winter
i
s here.
Soon
he wo
n’t even have that tiny
backyard to use
.
It i
sn’t fair to him to stay
.
We talk the whole weeken
d but he doesn’t want to leave.
I plead with him to go
home
for at least the winter months.
“If I go
I’ll only miss you
and just turn aroun
d and come back again,” he says in his soft voice
.
“Your D
ad said he would dr
ive me to the mountains upstate
maybe that will help.”
“Jay, the
y’
re not the same kind of mountains.”
“He sa
id he’d drive me to the Hamptons
,
on Long Island,
too
. I’ve never been there.
The ocea
n and sand will be new for me. Kate, I’ll be all right.
I just have to get used to this city living
.
”
I look at
his sad face.
“I don’t know if I want you to get used to this city.”
He’s breaking my heart.
I can’t do this to him, he must paint.
T
he
ball i
s in my court
now
.
***
At
Christmas
I mak
e my announcement, “I’ve resigned from the museum. I’ve given my
two
weeks
’ notice
,
”
I pause
until everyone
around the
family table has
time to gasp.
I smile and
continued, “Jay
and I are moving to Santa Fe.
We flew down there last week
end
and in
48
hours we both got jobs in galleries and
rented an apartment.”
Jay grins and squeezes
my hand
under the table while my mother has
the
vapors and everyone else prattles
at once.
You see i
t really was a no brainer once I
realized we could compromise our li
fe styles and s
till be happy.
Santa Fe gives me the
cosmopolitan
art atmosphere
I’m happy to live and work in and give
s Jay the mountains and the des
ert he loves
and needs to paint
.
Mother remains sullen and stoic the rest o
f the day but calls the next morning
to meet for lunch.
I try to make exc
uses but she will accept none.
So I leave my darling
painter
happily packing boxes and
trek
over to my parent’s apartment.
I
strain
to stay cheerful but I feel nauseous as I ring the bell.
It is sure to be an unpleasant grilling.
“You don’t look so good.
Are you sick?” Mother guards the entrance.
“Oh, my st
omach is just a little
queasy
.
I
guess it’s all the excitement.
I did
n’t sleep too much last night.”
I kiss my mother and walk in.
“Humph, too much sex, I think.”
“Mother, please!”
“Well,
I’ve made a nice lunch.
You’ll feel better after you eat.”
“I thought we were going out.
I wanted to take you to that cute little café that opened down the block.”
“So,
we’ll go another time.”
“But
, Mother
,
I’m leaving in a week.
There might not be another time.”
“K
atie, sit down and we’ll talk.
You’ll eat a little so
mething and you’ll feel better.
I made
my
nice
chicken salad, your favorite.
Your F
ather went out to the bakery this morning and bought nice rye bread and rolls
, like you like. See?
Who
needs the fancy-
smancy
,
cute little café?”
Glimpsing
all the food was
not helping my nervous tummy.
Usually I devoured my Mother’s chicken salad
but today it turned my stomach.
I helped myself to some food
that I pushed around my plate.
“Where is Father?”
“He said
he was going to help Jay pack.
I’m surprised yo
u didn’t meet him.
You know
him
,
he wa
nts no part of a confrontation.
Eat, don’t pick.”
I had to smile.
My F
ather and Ja
y
had really gotten quite close.
T
hey were both quiet men.
I always thought F
ather felt a little in awe of Mark who had tons of
degrees in architecture
;
my brother
’
s medical degrees were beyond his comprehension
, too
.
Father’s
education ended at high school
.
H
e
found it easy talking to Jay.
What surprised me was his interest i
n the southwest and the Hopi
.
He asked to borrow
some of my books, a first for F
athe
r. Though Jay was delighted by F
ather’s
q
uestions, it left him homesick.
It was a b
ittersweet occurrence
.
“Katie, are you listening to me or daydreaming?”
“
Sorry, Mother, I was just thinking how Jay and Father have bonded.”
“Oh, your Father
is an easy mark just like you.
Please stop playing with your food.”
“Maybe I’ll make a san
dwich and take it home with me. I just don’t feel good.
Maybe
I’m coming down with the flu.
Some of the people at work had it last week and were out sick for a few days.”
My mother looks at me closely.
“You’re not pregnant
,
I hope.”
I laugh, “Of course, I’m not.
In this day and age
,
everyone is having safe sex.
Besides, you know I’ve been on the pill since college.”
“Humph, that doesn’t mean you always remember
or he always has a condom.”
“Mother, I’m not pregnant.
Please stop worrying about something that isn’t going to happen.
”
“And what if you were pregnant? Did you ever think what a mixed race baby would look like?”
“
Oh, Mother, really, you’re too much.
”
I give her one of my
most exasperated looks. “
I’d be a liar if I
said
Jay and I haven’t talked about marriage
and children.
It’s something that might not happen for a long time.
” I give her a big smile
.
“
But if I did have Jay’s child, I’d feel
very
fulfilled.”
She looks at me with horror and grabs her water glass and takes a gulp.
“Mother, Jay has a h
eart of gold, is strong, doesn’t have tattoos, pierced body parts, take
s
drugs, use
s
profanity or drink
s
to excess.
He is so much like Father.
”
“Your Father doesn’t wear his hair in a bun and he married me before we slept together. What kind of money does this guy have, do you even know?”
“Ok, first, he wears his hair in a traditional Na
tive Pueblo style. The hair is
knotted
, Mother. Secon
d, it’s not the dark ages. To
day
you live together first then
marry. Third, I know he has about
$20,000.00 from the sale of his last six paintings.”
She
harrumphed
.
“
Now what did you call me to talk about today?
Is it really a confront
ation?
”
“Just this,
Miss Smarty P
ants
,
d
o you know wha
t you’re doing with your life?
You come from a privilege
d
background, went to the best of Ivy League schools,
had
a wonderful job, a promising
career and a nice social life.
You go on a two week vacat
ion and you say you’re
in love with a poor I
ndian painter who has nothing.
You decide to throw everything away and g
o follow him to God’s country.
Katie, you’re a smart girl, this isn’t the movies, where do you think this will end?”
“I don’t expect you
to understand; truthfully even Jay and I don’t und
erstand how all this happened.
We’re not impetuous people. Jay is very level-headed and grounded.”
“Yes, but
you’re a sap for the underdog.
When you were little you
came home with every stray you
found.
You’re
romant
iz
ing
the
hungry artist
scenario
with an ethnic person
, no less.
You want to protect him, nurture him and care for him when the co
ld cruel world beats him down.
What happens in a fe
w years to your dreams, Katie?
Do you think there will be a happy-ever-after-ending?”