Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon (8 page)

“I imagine her real mother isn’t happy about the hillbillies.”

“I wouldn’t know. Are they here?”

“Yes. I’m afraid Chana is showing up the bride. She must take after her mother with that olive skin.”

“She does,” I said. “Hair too.”

“It’s good she and Margaret are so far apart in age, they won’t compete.”

“Was that hard for you?” I asked. “Competing with Mom.”

She appraised me. I don’t think I blinked.

“I’m sure Margaret will catch up some other way,” she said.

I couldn’t slap her, so I was out of responses. Eric had been watching from across the room and came over to rescue me.

“Come outside, I want to ask you something,” he said.

We stepped to the edge of the patio. The La Jolla shoreline stretched out in front of us, past the pier at Scripps Institute and on to the cliffs over Black’s Beach. I imagined the hang gliders afloat on swells of air above an earth cooling in the setting sun.

My father had planned to take me. He thought gliding first would teach me the fundamentals of flight so if the engine failed, I’d know I still had air under my wings. He hadn’t lived long enough to teach me that lesson. I could use it today. I took a deep breath.

“She is such a bitch,” I said. “She actually put down a four year-old.”

“She jumped Anna when we walked through the door. Mom gave her the hillbillies,” said Eric. “Listen. Anna and I have an idea. We wanted to run it by you before we mention it to Adam.”

Eric and Anna thought Adam should buy Chana her own string of pearls. It was a family tradition. There were so many strings of pearls when we showed up at family functions, you’d think we had some crazy uncle downtown L.A. who bought wholesale.            

“Can Adam afford them?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? He probably makes more money than I do.”

“Well, I think it’s an incredibly beautiful idea,” I said.

It didn’t sound like I thought it was an incredibly beautiful idea.

“Forget Asp,” he said.

“It’s not her. Celeste wants to come back and manage one of the restaurants.”

“Jon’s not going to do that.”

“He might. I heard it from Chana. He didn’t want to bring it up. He didn’t say he wasn’t going to do it. I’ve decided to go back to work. I don’t want to get left with kids and no job. It’s like a bad fucking family cliché. Third generation woman left stranded to start over with kids.”

“Jon is not going to strand you.”

“No. I might change the pattern and leave him.”

“You need to stop saying fuck. It could end up being Chance’s first word.”

“You’re one to talk,” I said.

Anna came out on the patio and closed the door behind her. Chana watched us through the living room window.

“What do you think?” asked Anna.

“I think it’s a sodding beautiful idea,” I said.

Chance sighed under his shroud. I hoped he’d say Mama first. If he followed in Meggie’s footsteps, he’d say Papa for a year and ignore me.

“Is that good or bad?” she asked.

“It’s good,” said Eric. “She’s upset because Celeste wants to move back to the islands and work for Jon.”

“He’d never do that,” she said. “She called us hillbillies.”

“Jon did,” I said. “Celeste hasn’t called us anything yet. Penny and Tom know. Penny walked in on them.”

Eric grinned, huge.

“It was dark,” I said. “Penny said, ‘Excuse me.’ They haven’t been back.”

“That’s so Penny,” said Anna. “What about Celeste?”

“We don’t know what Jon’s going to do,” said Eric. “Hannah’s going back to work.”

“I’m going on location in Italy,” I said. “The kids can learn Italian and eat antipasto.”

“We never got our kids to eat antipasto,” said Eric.

“Fine. They can live on pasta and gelato,” I said.

“Jon will fight you for custody,” said Anna. “He’ll make you stay in Hawaii.”

“Then I won’t divorce him. I’ll just work far far away. I can get great childcare on location. They’ll be with their mother. He has to go to the other islands all the time. He works nights in a bar. It’s very unstable. Children should be with their mother.”

“Well, we should draw up a financial agreement. Protect your earnings so you don’t end up supporting Celeste,” she said. “He’ll need to sign something allowing you to take the kids across borders.”

“This is what happens when your sister-in-law practices family law,” said Eric.

Chana tapped on the window and gave us a questioning look. Anna went inside.

“Why couldn’t I just find someone when I was sixteen and get married?” I asked.

“Because you didn’t,” said Eric. “Let’s eat.”

“Asp said the kids aren’t welcome.”

“Screw Asp. It’s not her dinner.”

“Chance can hear, Eric,” I said. “Ted looks good. Susan is good for him.”

“Yeah. I know.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes looked pinched.

“Are you crying?” I asked.

“No. I’m pissed at Bettina for not being here for her daughter.”

“How’s Grace?” I asked.

“She’s fine. She’s a lesbian. We really like Jody.”

“Whoa. Too much information. Is that how you answer everyone?”

“No. I’m just getting used to the idea. I was practicing. Unlike Adam, she didn’t have any problem telling us.”

“Well, we’ll never hear her complain about Viagra.”

“I hope to be deaf before any of them complain about Medicare sex.”

“You going to use it?”

“Anna says no. I might sneak it.”

“Be careful. If Arthur is any indication, it’s like crack.”

He was about to say something, probably claim it was worth the addiction, when their daughter, Grace, came out on the patio and gave me a hug. I lifted my scarf so she could see Chance’s squished sleeping face.

“Luck,” she said. “Chance is French for luck. Everyone is getting ready to leave, Dad.”

Asp handed me the diaper bag as we stepped inside. Eric took it and guided me out the door and down the street with everyone else.

Meggie held Mom’s hand and hopped. Poor Mom. She teetered sideways on some pretty damn high heels. They weren’t the kind of shoes you wear when you’re trying to discourage your Viagra-charged husband. Arthur offered Mom his arm to steady her.

Eric leaned into my ear, “He doesn’t want coochie out of commission with a broken hip.”

I started laughing. Chana and Adam glanced back smiling with their easy connection. Our bride and groom led the parade like the royalty for a weekend that they were. His parents seemed at ease ushering a $2,000 dinner bill down the street.

I trudged on with a baby hitting the ten-pound mark strapped to my sweaty chest. Asp, in her expensive flats, and Uncle Jim brought up the rear. I stood up straighter. I knew she was sniping from behind.

Dinner was festive with toasts all around. Charlie’s parents made a point of spending time with each person. Their graciousness coiled Asp’s smile extra tight.

It was an Italian restaurant. Eric offered the antipasto plate to Meggie who took one lick of a pepper and put it back with her tongue sticking out. He smiled at me.

“Don’t put food back on the serving plate, Meggie,” I said. “You want some skettie and a meatball?”

I smiled at Eric.

“She’s four,” I said. “Wait until we get there.”

Chana was watching us. She’d been watching since I first met Jon. Children of broken homes learn an extra dose of vigilance spared the Adams of the world.

We got home and turned in. Jon had left a message saying he missed us. Missed me. I had enjoyed a few hours of distraction, but the background sound of wind chimes and surf, and his voice, crashed down on my heart. I invited Meggie to sleep with me. She curled up with her back against my stomach and sucked her thumb to soothe the undercurrent of tension. I felt sad for her. I stroked her hair until she started to breathe deeply into her nighttime world. Chance snuffled before finally giving up to sleep.

Mom and Arthur stopped at the house the next day to give me a hand getting everyone ready. Eric took a picture of the three of us and sent it to Jon.

“That’s a little manipulative,” I said.

“I like Jon,” he said. “This is going to be hard for him.”

“We’re hillbillies.”

“So, now he has a picture of hillbillies.”

The church was beautiful. Samantha had done a good job with the production design. The usher put us on the outside of the family aisle in case I needed to drag out a disruption. The parents and grandparents were ushered in, and the processional music started. Meggie eyed the flower girl. I thought there might be trouble, but she hopped up and down in the pew when Chana came in with Adam. I thought she would faint when Chana gave her a fluttery wave.

We all stood for the Wedding March. Samantha was radiant on Ted’s arm. She looked more like Ted than Bettina. He had put on a little weight living in the calm of a good marriage.

I could see Jon walking Chana down the aisle in a year. Celeste would be in the front row with Eric and Anna. Meggie would be the flower girl. Chance and I would be relegated to the back with Asp smiling wickedly. I hugged Chance so hard he squeaked. Better to be in Rome.

Meggie watched the ceremony, rapt. I think as much by seeing her sister, as the frothy cupcake bride. Eric was sneaking pictures with his phone and texting. He leaned down the row and shot a picture of me with the kids. I didn’t blame him. No matter what happened between Jon and me, Jon and Eric would be related for life.

We showered them with birdseed, and then headed to the country club for a traditional affair. The bride danced with the groom. She danced with her father. The groom danced with his stepmother-in-law. Meggie danced with her hot pink shoes. Everyone danced but me.

My breasts throbbed with milk that had jumped the nursing pad barricade and spread across the top of my dress. Primal Chance was getting restless with the proximity of all that largess and Meggie was overtired. It was time to leave.

I put Meggie in the tub and sat on the toilet nursing Chance while she talked about the princess. I got them down and called Karin to tell her I was coming up the next day.

“Great,” she said. “How’d the wedding go?”

“Lovely. Adam and Chana finally came out of the closet.”

“Good. That was getting silly. Jon okay with it?”

“He’s okay.”

“How about you?”

“I’m going to have lunch with Marty. See if I can line up something with a start a few months out.”

“Something happen?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Okay. What time?”

“I don’t know. I want to miss rush hour.”

“It’s always rush hour. The Orange County corridor has been torn up for months.”

“I’ll go up the back way then. I’ll let you know when I get close.”

I got in the bathtub with Meggie’s tired pop bubbles. Disintegrating relationships have such a painful and predictable trajectory. It takes time to seal off your heart to all that was going to be. What’s left is holding your head up in public and making a plan. What’s left in private is imagining no life in front of you, while the other person goes on a joy ride through life. Even if you’re the one doing the leaving. 

I took inventory of the ones who had left. Steve, who I knew was never right for me, had won an Academy Award for film editing last year. He’d married the lawyer I’d seen giving him a congratulatory kiss. My ex-husband hadn’t left; I’d kicked him out. Even on my worst days, I never thought about him except with relief.

I wondered about John Deere. He left to marry a woman he called a girl. He said he didn’t love her. She was pregnant with his child. I’d never experienced anything like him before. Sometimes I wondered what happened to him. When I was happy, I hoped he was too. When I wasn’t, I hoped he was sorry he left me. I sat in Meggie’s gray lukewarm water and hoped he was sorry.

I got in bed. Jon called. It was quiet in the background.

“You looked beautiful today,” he said.

“Hardly. I live in a wet dress and shroud. Didn’t Chana look beautiful? Did you notice the pearls?”

“She did. I didn’t notice pearls. I’ll look again. I’ve been looking at you with the babies.”

“Adam bought her a string of pearls to wear.”

“Yeah, they called before the wedding. I guess it’s official,” he said. “So what’s your plan?”

“I’m headed to L.A. first thing. I’ll let you know what Marty says.”

“Hannah, you can’t just split off into some parallel universe and ignore the fact that we’re a family.”

“I know. We need to do some paperwork.”

“Fuck paperwork. We’re not doing paperwork.”

“I’m not talking about a divorce. I just don’t want to end up supporting Celeste. We’re going to have to figure out a way to pull things apart.”

“I think you should come home.”

“I’m home.”

“Okay. Well, we’re not going to pull it apart over the phone. Come back here. You can go to L.A. in a month or two. Just take Chance, it will be easier.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Meggie. Are you planning to hire Celeste?”

“I’m weighing it.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“It would save me the hassle of going over there every other week. I’m tired of it. The employees know her.”

“You’ll still have to go, you have two restaurants there. There probably isn’t anybody left who even knows her name. What about Phil? You just going to fire him?”

“Phil’s wife wants to move to Honolulu. He can take over there when Todd moves back to the mainland. I won’t have to find someone new, and I don’t lose Phil.”

“You’ve never had a problem finding managers.”

“She knows that shop. After Honolulu, it’s one of our biggest assets right now.”

“So you’re going to put our biggest asset in the hands of a woman who resents me and my children?”

“It’s just a business decision. She’d be on a different island. She’s not like you, she doesn’t have anything to fall back on.”

“She still has you and Chana, and she’ll have a divorce settlement,” I said.

“You can’t seriously be jealous of her. It’s all she knows.”