by Tom Corbett
“And now?”
“He thinks he is sexy.”
“And?”
“He is, very.” Azita felt her face flush. “Wow, I am glad I am not trying to have this conversation with dad.”
Mother and daughter looked at one another a moment before breaking out in laughter. “Chris would have bolted by now and handed you off to me. In fact, that is what he did earlier. Ran off to some appointment I bet. I am glad he did. I always want to be there for you. And you know what, I love it when you call me mother.”
“And I have a confession to make.” Azita smiled at Amar. “I love calling you mother.”
“Listen Azita, you must go back home. But here is my condition. I will go with you. Don’t even try to argue. The girls are old enough to be without me for a bit. Besides, maybe we can fit in a visit to my home in Kashmir. I have a family you have not met.” Azita made one attempt to respond. “Don’t even try to talk me out of this. Besides, then we will have a lot of time to talk about boys and love and life.”
“I would like that,” Azita murmured.
“So would I,” Amar responded. “Besides, I am sure there is so much you still can teach me about boys. Okay, time to go home and torture Chris for a bit. That always relaxes me.”
“Me too,” Her daughter responded.
They both laughed again and continued walking along the path, arm in arm, lost in their separate thoughts. Unbeknown to the other, each reflected on the river of their individual lives up to this point. But when they did speak again, both returned to a safe topic, making fun of Chris.
CHAPTER 5
CHICAGO
Chris leaned back in his seat for the flight to Chicago. He sat with one of his daughters while Beverly, the wife of his late elder brother, sat with his other offspring. He leaned over to speak across the aisle to his sister-in-law. “I do thank you for coming over, but I could have handled this on my own.”
“Nonsense,” she responded. “The women in the family all agree that you are hopeless.”
“As long as it is unanimous.” He looked at her with genuine affection.
“What have you heard from your wife and daughter? I have gotten emails from Kay but have not heard directly from Amar and Azita. They are still in India, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but they soon will be in Kabul, the whole entourage will be together for a while. I am not a happy camper about this. I still have nightmares about searching the hills and caves for Azita and her sister after their parents were murdered. Then Karen goes and gets shot while trying to rescue me, almost dies. Just to save my sorry ass. That makes no sense, but she did also save the girls at the same time. I still owe her large for that. Anyways, that place makes me very nervous. Damn, life has become complicated. Used to be all I worried about was not getting STDs and not getting shot at by an irate husband.”
Beverly guffawed involuntarily. “Sorry, you are now so domesticated that I almost forgot you were once the playboy of the Western world. I understand your concerns, but they will be fine, I am sure. It is not so bad there now.”
Chris still looked glum. “The damn Taliban doesn’t run the place, but they are a huge presence in the countryside and just as nuts as ever. I can’t help but worry about their safety, I always will. But I will let you in on a secret.” He leaned closer to her across the aisle. “What I really worry about is my wife and daughter and my evil twin sister are plotting evil things to do to me. They are spending a lot of time by themselves and that cannot be good for me. Few realize the horror I live every day.”
“Kay is right, she always said you were full of shit. Oops, that was brave.” She cupped her mouth for a moment. “But really, you are such a typical man, you think women are talking about you all the time.”
“What, they are not scheming nefarious plots against my sanity and well-being? Really? You think I have nothing to worry about?”
Beverly patted his arm. “Not at all, I think you are screwed royally. I cannot wait to hear what tortures they have cooked up for you.”
She had surprised him. He looked closely at her as she smiled broadly. She was not the young, uncertain girl that his brother had brought home as he finished up college. Then, he could not warm up to her. Neither could Kay, his sister. In those days, she seemed sculptured into some preformed mold, looking upon the world about her absent of any emotion and speaking as if through a prepared script. Her hair was perfect, her makeup just a little on the excessive side, her demeanor crafted not to offend. But it was the smile that struck Chris as being off. It was always there but never suggested real mirth. Nothing about her suggested authenticity in the beginning. It was as if she were after a prize and the way to get it was never to make a mistake nor offend any on the family members.
Chris and Kay could ever figure out why Chuck, Charles Junior, had been attracted to her. He was an artist by temperament while she seemed socially rigid and consumed by materialism. Where was the connection? What could they possibly talk about after sex was finished? Even there, Chris was puzzled. Beverly was very attractive in a brittle sense but displayed no sensuality. He had a difficult time believing that she did little more in bed than lay there while Chuck finished his business. Kay and Chris could only conclude that their elder brother was still seeking approval from the patriarch. Father only saw women as extensions of a man’s will and needs. Beverly would not challenge that view.
It was only after Chuck’s suicide that Chris noticed something different in her. She evinced real emotion, affection for the man she had married. She even stood up to the Patriarch as the family decided whether to take Chuck off life support as he lay in a coma. As Chris looked at her across the aisle, he could not help but notice the physical differences. Her hair now had a natural style, more auburn and not the bleached blond look of her youth. Her make-up was subdued and suggestive, not the harsh caricature of a woman on the make that it once had been. But her smile was the big change in his mind. It now reflected an inner joy. No longer was it merely painted on the outside, revealing absolutely nothing about her inner state. This was the longest time Chris had ever spent with his sister-in-law and he liked what he was discovering.
Suddenly, Chris realized she was talking to his daughter seated next to her, the young girl was restless, and Beverly was quietly working to keep her calm, perhaps even persuade her to take a nap. The girl wanted to be next to her sister but that would invite squabbling which was not exactly what you wanted on an extended flight. Chris was impressed by her innate parenting skills. It made him wonder about things that had never entered his mind before.
“Beverly,” Chris whispered as his daughter quieted down, “you are a natural.”
“Thanks, they really are so sweet, I could love them to death.”
“Well, you will get a chance when we get to Chicago. You will have charge of the little dears as I jet around to various foundations and such. I am so grateful, I might have left them with mother, but she is getting frail I think.” Chris hesitated and then decided to plunge ahead. “Okay, I am going to be obnoxious here, not so much obnoxious as intrusive.”
“We expect nothing less,” she smiled, “but I can guess where you are going: why didn’t Chuck and I have kids of our own?”
“Okay, that is one of them. There are others.” Chris paused. “Funny, I don’t know you very well.”
“You never tried,” she said the words quickly and regretted them immediately. “Sorry, I think we are both at fault there. I must have seemed so inconsequential to you. I was this blond bimbo while you were out changing the world. And before you deny anything, just let me get this out. You and Kay awed me, while your father scared the bejesus out of me. I would almost upchuck whenever I was in his presence. It sure wasn’t easy at first. I still hate admitting how terrified I was of him, of all of you.” She paused, her eyes closed as if she was looking deep into the past.
“Bev…” he started but she silenced him with a gesture.
Then she sta
rted out with slow words, as if each were ripped out from a recess of her psyche. “Everything bad you thought about me was probably true. I saw a rich family and a weak man. I wanted the name, the money, the status. Chuck was so innocent, so easy to manipulate. He had so much going for him but never figured that out. I don’t think I appreciated how special he was until it was too late. I did not think I was as manipulative as the other barracudas out there, but in truth I was. I went after weakness, or what I saw as his weakness. To nail him, all I had to do was pay some attention to him, feed his shattered ego, and he was mine. He was so insecure that he never figured out he was a catch. I could see these other girls, just sharks like me, circling around him. For the life of him, he could not see he was a catch, thank God. Oh, he didn’t quite have your looks and certainly not your bad-boy charms, but he was so sweet and kind and gentle and, of course, so wealthy.”
“Really, Bev…”
Again, she silenced him with a gesture and continued. “I thought I had a chance to get by the other female barracudas who were after his money, but the family, the infamous Crawford clan, worried me. The rest of you, and for sure the patriarch, were different altogether. I knew I couldn’t fool people like you or Kay; maybe your mother and Kat but I wasn’t sure of that - Kat I mean. Your mother had some sweetness to her when she wasn’t miserable and drunk, which was seldom. I never kidded myself. I know what you saw at first a sphinx. I just smiled at everyone, but I never revealed anything. I feared you would not like what you saw. Hell, I did not like what I saw looking in a mirror. I was little more than a grasping bitch.”
“Don’t be…” He was going to say don’t be hard on yourself, that is my job. It was one of his favorite lines, but he held it in. In any case, she cut him short with a look.
“My dime now, so you listen. Understand? I kept smiling in the beginning while revealing nothing and guess what? I got the prize. He asked me to marry him. Then, I had to ask the real question: is that what I wanted? I didn’t know. But this is what I was raised for.” Her lips trembled slightly. “We were a family in economic decline, good name and pedigree but fortune and hope waning, desperately hanging on to our former social status as more money went out to keep up pretenses than came in. You know what I am talking about. This was like the plot from one of those Masterpiece PBS miniseries, the titled family with the big house and no money so they send the sons out to marry a rich American girl to give her status and, at the same time, shore up the dwindling bank account. That was me, I was to find a rich prince to bail us out. I was the best bet, the best hope. My sister had a weak chin and too many pounds, my brother was a dopehead. So, I got the ballet lessons and the fancy girl’s school we could not afford. In fact, that was how I met your poor brother, I had been refined in the better things in life, to better trap some poor schlepp who didn’t know better. I still recall mother telling me to go out and snag a guy with more money than brains. I did my hunting in two kinds of territory, upscale bars and artsy museums and concerts. That is how we met, in a museum. I was there nominally for a class project, but also because I was scouting out the talent. He was there because he loved this stuff, it was his secret Walter Mitty life. But even then, at the very beginning, I could see his passion for art, and his deep despair. Want to know something? I don’t have much to do with my family anymore. I do send some money but mostly to keep them away. Greed does terrible things to people, terrible things. And money, whomever said it could buy happiness was an idiot.” She leaned back into her seat, her eyes focused on something far away.
Chris wondered if she were finished. “Why bring this up now?”
She continued as if he had not said anything. “When I first got the prize, I rather panicked. Hell, I would now have to live with this guy. Worse, I would have to service him all the time. It was a life sentence. What had I done? Why had I done it? Was I just pleasing my folks? They cared not a whit for me. I was just a pawn, someone to use, maybe except for one brother who seemed rather genuine. In any case, there were moments early on when I came so close to bailing out. So damn close.” A tear escaped her eye. “I even cheated on him, more than once. I hated myself, but even more I think, I hated being dishonest to Chuck. Want to know something funny? I…I think I even remember when it all turned around. I was about to leave the house to meet…someone. Then, Chuck came home early. I remember being upset, he was making this difficult for me. God, it really was all about me then. But he was distressed so I sat and listened. I think, maybe for the first time, he poured out the depths of his unhappiness. Oh, I knew the basic story. He had been tapped as the heir to the family dynasty, forced to study business when his heart lay elsewhere. He had this terrible need to please his father, it was a desperate need he could neither ignore nor dismiss, something none of his other siblings were afflicted with apparently. You all looked strong and independent to me, maybe except for Kat. She remained a cypher for a long time.”
“I always felt that Chuck took after mother, more than the rest of us at least. Oops, sorry for interrupting.”
“That’s okay, your family jewels are safe this time, I am nicer than the other women around you, no violence. You really do get wacked a lot, not that you don’t deserve it.” She emitted a tiny smile. “That night, he poured out just how desperate he was. Let me be clear, he had complained often. But before that night, he never fully expressed his anguish, or I never had really listened. Odd, now that I think back on it, for a while, his catharsis sickened me, he seemed pathetic. I was still thinking about how to get out of the house to make it to this tryst with someone I can no longer even remember. Slowly, so slowly, I began to listen, to really pay attention. He was no longer just whining, complaining. His words were different. Maybe they had always been like that, but they seemed different to me that night. His words focused on his dreams, how he felt about art and beauty and life. Oh sure, he had touched on such things before, many times. Before, it always struck me as idle conversation, just a way to pass the time. Now, it struck me as communication, a sharing that was…intense and rather special. There was a depth that evening, as if he were reaching to a new place, some part of himself that he had never revealed before. I think…I think now that he had always been reluctant to open up. Perhaps he feared that I would not like to see his gentle soul, that I would find that man weak. God, what kind of monster had he thought he had married?” She paused a moment to regain control. “I can understand that reaction, but what happened that night was so different. For the first time, I rather fell in love with him. Funny, it really was just like that, so easy. I saw inside him, all the gentleness and sweetness and, above all, the sensitivity. And it swept over me, this was a man I wanted to be with. Better yet, he needed me…he needed me, goddamn it. I recall looking at him at that moment, just feeling this tragedy along with the part I must play. It was just like Greek tragedy, you know, with no escape and the awful ending having been scripted from the beginning. That end game had been determined by some malevolent God bent on satisfying their own sadistic wishes.” Then she looked hard at Chris, betraying a small bit of anguish, before continuing. “The amazing thing was that he needed me. This man needed me. Just as important, I needed him. That is a mystery, is it not?”
When she paused, Chris wondered if she were waiting for him to say something. All that came to him was a question: “What mystery is that?”
“That you can be with someone for so long and not see them. They can be right there, in front of you. You can share a bed, make love to them, and see nothing. How can that be you ask? I am not sure, it was as if scales fell from my eyes and I could see for the first time. And what I saw was a revelation, a man that cared deeply about things.” Her gaze shifted slightly. “Chris, he loved you. He saw in you everything he felt he was not. You do realize he regretted not escaping to England with you, but that would have been impossible for him. I am still destroyed by guilt that I was partly responsible for him not following you. In the end, he was such a people-pleaser. He t
ried so hard not to disappoint those around him, but he never quite figured out that you cannot please everyone. He was like one of those rats in an electrified maze with no possible escape. He ran around his maze, his personal prison, and it drove him to his death. In the end, his sense of doing the right thing was way too strong. Right thing, my ass, what was he thinking? How could listening to that monster be the right thing?” She saw him respond to her sharp words. “Yes, he is a monster. Didn’t you know how I felt about the great Charles Senior?”
“No,” Chris whispered. “Of all of us, you seemed close to him.”
“An act, a fucking act.” Beverly glanced at the child next to her. “Good thing she is asleep, she didn’t hear. What else could I feel, watching every day as he mercilessly drove my poor husband to escape the only way he could? Couldn’t he see what he was doing? Didn’t he get it? Didn’t he give a fu…?”
“I am not sure he ever did,” Chris responded slowly. “You have to understand. Father is a stone-cold sociopath, like most of the uber-wealthy elite he hangs out with. They, he, don’t see much beyond their own interests. Their world literally ends at the end of their nose, for some it is the tip of their penis. They are somehow insulated from the pain and suffering of others. That seems incredible to normal people, but something is lacking in them. I guess it is what gives many of them an edge. Obviously, we cannot get inside their heads, but I have watched him and his associates for a long time. They are different, believe me, they are hard-wired in some perverse way.
Once, when I was 10 or so, father and I were walking, and he was lecturing me about politics and life according to neo-Nazis philosophy that he had embraced so fully. Then, of course, I still clung desperately to the hope that he might be a dad to me, not the imperious Father that he was, and I yet listened even if there were doubts on the edges of my residual respect for this larger than life icon. We came across an injured dog, not sure what the problem was but it was whimpering and in pain. I instinctively responded, wanting to help the poor thing. I reached out before Father yanked me back and kicked the poor animal to the curb. He walked on as if this was no more than a minor inconvenience to him. At that moment I thought the animal may have been diseased, rabid and therefore a danger to me, and that prompted his response. But no, not really, he was unaware the pup was suffering and belonged to someone. It had a collar. But it was outside his world, he cared not a whit. I paid more attention after that. I saw that he was just as vicious to other people. The evidence had always been there. Still, that was the moment when the epiphany about Father hit me. Our relationship was never the same.”
