Authors: Chamein Canton
The rain did let up in time to get the game in. Cathy
stayed up as long as she could before she dozed off. When
she woke it was morning and her Yankees win streak had
ended 5-4.
She followed doctor’s orders and cut back her schedule.
Instead of hopping right on the computer to see the day’s
business emails, she only checked her personal inbox.
Alexander and Andrew had emailed her about the game but
both were very sure the Yankees would get back on track
that night. So was she.
A little later that morning Cathy put on a nice dress and
headed to the supermarket to do some light grocery shopping. She even called her personal president, her mother, to
see if she needed to go to the store. As far as Cathy could
tell, Clint Eastwood didn’t know a thing about being in the
real line of fire.
Before she could stop herself, Cathy honked the horn
when she went to pick up her mother. Her mother stood
ready at the door.
“Hi, Mom.”
Elizabeth got in. “Good morning.”
Cathy’s cell phone rang. She adjusted her hands free
earpiece. “Hello?”
“Hey, baby. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thanks. You?”
“Not bad. I’m not happy we lost last night.”
“I know, but Alex and Andrew have assured me that
you guys will be back on track this evening.”
“We’re going to do our very best.”
“Cathy? How can you drive and talk on the phone?”
“Marcus, excuse me a minute, please.”
He chuckled. “Sure. Is that your mom?”
“Oh yes.” She looked at her mother. “Mom, I’m using
my ear piece so I won’t take my hands off the wheel or my
eyes off the road. I’m sorry Marcus. Go ahead.”
“Your mother sounds like a pistol.” He had to chuckle.
“A cannon is more like it.”
He laughed. “That’s a good one but I have an ulterior
motive for calling.”
“Ooh, sounds serious.”
“Not that kind of serious. Did you book your flight for
Tampa?”
“As a matter of fact I did that yesterday. We’ll be in
Tampa Friday afternoon.”
“Fantastic. I reserved three rooms for you under your
name.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“Who are you talking to?” Her mother’s eyebrows rose.
“Mom, I’m on the phone.” Cathy was growing more
annoyed.
Marcus got a kick out of Cathy’s mother. “Your mother
sounds like fun.”
“A regular laugh riot.”
“I guess I’d better let you go before she starts interrogating you.”
Cathy took one look at her mother’s stern face. “That
ship has sailed. It’s more like the Spanish Inquisition
coming up.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll talk to you a little later. If I can call you
before and after the game I will.”
“Okay. Is the weather better today?”
“Much better. We shouldn’t have any trouble getting a
game in tonight.”
“Good. I’ll be watching.”
“Have a good one, baby. Don’t let her put you on the
rack.”
“It’s probably too late for that.”
Cathy hung up, annoyed with her mother.
“Mom, why in the world do you talk to me when I’m
on the phone?”
“You should be concentrating on your driving.” She
drove home the point with her finger.
“We’re still in one piece, Mom. I didn’t run a light or
pop a stop sign.”
“You have to be careful; so many people get into accidents talking on their phones.”
“Okay, Mom. I’m being careful.”
“Was that the baseball player?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“What’s the story with Sunday’s gossip column?”
Cathy’s heart sank. “Nothing, Mom. It was a lie and
they printed a retraction on Monday.”
“You’re a 40-year-old woman and mother; you had no
business being in some nightclub.”
“Mom, I went there with Marcus. He wasn’t worried
about my age. We just went there to dance.”
“Aren’t you older than him?”
“Yes, Mom, I am. I’m six years older.”
“So he’s only 34?” her mother asked.
“What do you mean, only thirty four?”
“He isn’t too old to be in a nightclub.”
Cathy was stunned.
Oh no, she isn’t going there
, she
thought. Cathy used one of the few diffusers she had for
her mother.
“Mom, may I remind you that you were 20 plus years
younger than Mr. Anderson?”
“Are you buying a lot of groceries today?”
The diffuser worked. “No, I’m just picking up some
groceries for the next couple of days. We’re flying to Tampa
Friday morning.”
“What’s in Tampa?”
“A Yankee game.”
“I know you’re not following this man everywhere. You
have children.”
Cathy rolled her eyes. “First, I’m not following him
everywhere; otherwise, I’d be in Baltimore. Secondly, my
children are in college. So I am not flaunting anything in
front of them.”
“Really? What do you call that article yesterday?”
“Fish paper.”
“I just don’t know. I raised the both of you to be better
than that. I just don’t approve of that kind of conduct.” She
shook her head.
“You did say I was 40 and Anna’s 36, which means we
are far beyond the age of needing your approval.”
Although her mother didn’t think Cathy was religious,
Cathy thanked God when they pulled into the parking lot.
Conversations with her mother tended to be interesting
and eventful in a make-you-feel-guilty-about-the-choicesyou’ve-made kind of way. As they entered the store, Cathy
and her mother grabbed a couple of shopping carts. While
she might not follow all of her mother’s beliefs, Cathy still
stuck to the way her mother had taught her to shop.
Shop
the outside, that’s where all the good-for-you food is
. Naturally
they were in the produce aisle.
“Ouch!” Elizabeth grabbed her arm.
“What’s the matter, Mom?”
“The sprinkler came on.”
Cathy took a closer look at her arm. “Mom, you have
sunburn.”
“I do not. I’m from the South. I used to work in the
fields and I never got sunburned.”
“That’s because the hole in the ozone layer wasn’t twice
the size of Alaska back then. You know, Mom, sunblock
isn’t just for white people. Black folks get sunburned too.”
Her mother scoffed. “It’s just so ridiculous. As if I’m not
paying enough for my medications, now I have to spend
money on tanning cream? Summer is almost over.”
“Not suntan lotion, Mom, sunblock. You can pick
some up on the way out. The sun doesn’t mix well with
most medications, you know.”
Cathy looked at her mother. After forty years she knew
that expression on her mother’s face. Her mother had just
tuned her out and zeroed in on what she was wearing.
“Before you say another word, Mom, I have on a good bra
and a slip.”
Her mother played innocent. “Why did you say that? I
didn’t say a word.”
“Mom, I know you as well as you know me. And I
recognize that look.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything about it. I was just going
to say I’m going over to the organic section.”
“Okay, Mom. I’m going to pick up some olives for my
pasta salad later.”
A few people watched Cathy as she filled a container at
the olive bar. She was sure most of Amityville’s 10,000+
population had either seen the paper or watched the entertainment news show. She filled the container with black
olives.
“Cathy?”
She knew the voice immediately.
“Paul,” she said in an even tone.
“It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks.”
“How have you been? You look great.”
“Fine, thank you,” Cathy said.
She continued browsing the olive bar until he finally
got the message. “It was good seeing you.”
“Take care, Paul.”
Cathy wasn’t really mad at Paul anymore; she just
couldn’t seem to get the image of him in bed with his
student out of her mind. It was hard for her to see him and
not think of that night. Cathy found her mother and
continued shopping. A few minutes later her mother
slowed down to nearly a crawl.
“Okay, Mom. What is wrong with you?”
“There’s some woman following us.”
“What woman?”
“A blond.”
“Where?” Cathy was furious.
“Over there. She’s in frozen foods.”
She looked over and it was the blond reporter from the
gym, Lisa Spellman.
“Take my cart, Mom.” She was hot.
“Cathy, don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not going do anything stupid, Mom. I just want to
know why she’s following me.”
Spellman saw her coming and ran. The woman actually
ran. But Cathy had a full head of steam.
“Don’t you run! I want to speak to you.”
“I have mace!” She fumbled through her bag.
“I’m not coming to eat you, little girl. I just want to
know why you’re following me!”
People stopped to watch the encounter.
“It’s called freedom of the press.”
“I know all about freedom of the press. But in the name
of all things decent, stop following me for a story. I’m shopping with my mother. What the hell kind of story is that?”
“It’s my job,” she insisted.
“I understand you’re a working woman. So am I. All I
am asking you to do is please back off. There is no story
here. I may have squeezed a couple of melons but that’s
about the extent of my high jinks.”
People started to laugh. Eventually Spellman laughed at
the absurdity of the situation.
She stuck her hand out. “Lisa Spellman.”
Cathy shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Lisa. Even
though you know my name, allow me to introduce myself
anyway. I’m Catherine Chambers.”
“Nice to meet you, Catherine.”
As the crowd dispersed her mother walked over. “Is
everything all right, Cathy?”
“It’s fine.” She turned to Lisa. “Lisa, this is my mother,
Elizabeth Anderson. Mom, this is Lisa Spellman.”
She shook Lisa’s hand. “So you’re the stalker.”
“Mom!”
Lisa took it in stride. “That’s okay, I’ve been called
worse. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anderson.”
“You certainly made grocery shopping interesting. By
the way, Cathy, do you have everything?”
“Yes, I’m done.”
“Good, I have to get back home. Ingrid wants me to go
with her to her attorney’s office.”
“Okay. You go ahead, Mom. I’ll be right there.”
“So, Lisa, now that you’re not my stalker, would you
like to have lunch this afternoon, say around one
P
.
M
.?”
“Sure.”
“Great. There’s a place on Route 110 called Pete’s
Diner. The food is good and the patrons are colorful. I can
meet you there.”
“Cool. I’ll see you then.”
The customers were all abuzz in the checkout lines.
They’d given them quite a floorshow for their shopping
entertainment.
Cathy noticed
The Tattler
on the checkout stand. She
wasn’t worried about her mother seeing it. Her mother was
more concerned with the amount of candy they had on
display for children. Today her predictability worked in
Cathy’s favor.
Hobo came running out of his doghouse, at least as far
as the chain would let him when Cathy pulled into the
driveway. Cathy smiled when she saw him wagging his tail
90 mph. Cathy loved dogs but had decided against pets
when her kids were growing up. Picking up after the kids
was time consuming enough. Hobo sat and waited for
Elizabeth to pet him, which she almost never did. Cathy
gave him credit for persistence. She heard him whining
when she turned off the ignition.
“Mom, did you feed the dog today?”
“No, I had to pick up some more dog food.”
Cathy got out. “He tells on you every time.”
Her mother dismissed it with a wave. “Old dog.”
Cathy helped her mother get her grocery bags in the
house.
“Which bag has the dog food, Mom?” Cathy asked as
she put the bags on the table.
“I think I have it here.” Elizabeth handed her a can of
food.
Cathy got the can opener and went outside.
Hobo was actually older than her mother, in dog years,
but Cathy loved to call him a puppy.
“Here you go, puppy.” She patted him on the head and
he immediately assumed the position for a tummy rub.
“Aww. You are the sweet dog, aren’t you? I know that Mom
didn’t feed you today, did she, big puppy?” She poured the
food into his dish, changed his water and went back inside
to wash her doggy hands.
“So, are you all set, Mom?” she asked.
Elizabeth put the milk in the fridge. “Yeah, I think so.”
“I guess I better get back home and put my dairy away.”
“Is Anna working out here today?”
“I think she’s on the island this week.”
“I have an appointment a week from this Saturday. I
want her to take me.”
“I think she and Roger have an appointment with a
catering hall that day. I could be wrong but I think it’s a
week from this Saturday.”
Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. “A catering hall? Is she
having a big wedding?”
“You could ask her yourself, Mom.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know why she’s having
some big wedding. It’s not like she hasn’t been married
before.”
Cathy turned to roll her eyes. “You know, Mom, Anna
is very happy with Roger. He’s a nice guy. Why can’t you
ever be happy for her?”
Elizabeth adjusted her glasses in that mother superior
way of hers. “You know why.”
“Right. Because he’s not a part of the faith and we aren’t
either. So that means you can’t be happy for your own
daughter?”
“You know what the right standards are.”
“Whose standards, Mom?”
“God’s.”
“Oh, give me a break!”
Elizabeth looked shocked. “What?”
Cathy was emboldened. “Give me a break. This isn’t
about God! It’s about control.”
“What control? Who’s trying to control you?”
“You are. That’s always been your M.O.”
Her mother played the guilt card. “I struggled to bring
you girls up the right way and then you just flush it down
the toilet.”
“We didn’t flush you down the toilet, Mom. We just
didn’t want to be a part of that collective anymore.”
“You know it means your life.”
“It certainly does and that’s exactly why I got out.”
“It’s like the two of you are dead.”
“Guess what, Mom. Now you know how we feel about
you. Do you know what it’s like to watch your mother die
and see this other person take her place?”
“What are you talking about? Another person?”
Elizabeth was mystified.
“Yes, Mom. You are someone else and you don’t even
know it. How can you not be happy for your own children?
We’re not drug addicts or prostitutes. I wasn’t an alcoholic
child abuser!”
“I realize that.”
“Do you? Anna is 36 years old, an accountant, and she
has no children. Not one. Roger is a 40-year-old electrical
engineer with no children and somehow they found each
other. Any other mother would think this was the equivalent to finding the Holy Grail of love matches. Two people
without children are getting married. You should be happy
for her.”
Her mother sat down. “You know what good principles
are and neither of you is following them.”
“According to you.” Cathy went to the door. “There
isn’t any use in talking to you about this. We are just going
to go in circles. I would like for you to show Anna at least
a tenth of the joy you show those folks in the faith when
they get hitched.”
“I have to make some decisions.”
“You go right ahead and make them, Mom. You’ve
made decisions before and when something happens you
come to us to for help. We may not always be your daughters, Mom, but you’re still our mother because those are our
standards.”
She stepped out and then back in. “If you have a
doctor’s appointment that Saturday and one of your friends
can’t help you out I might be able to take you in the latter
part of the afternoon.”
“Fine.”
This was the same dance Cathy had been doing with
her mother for ten years. Most times it was Anna who took
her on with Cathy just simmering in the background.
Cathy suspected that some of Anna’s power came from her
relationship with Roger, that in Roger she’d found a true
sense of happiness that protected her. Cathy was more
vulnerable to her words and pronouncements from upon
high. However, being with Marcus was making Cathy
stronger. That was something no one, not even her mother,
could take away from her.