Cause and Affection

by Sheryl Wright

  “Maddie, every day I watch people die.”

  Her mother was an oncology nurse and considered one of the best. In a department that suffered more patient losses than most others combined it was considered the most difficult and emotionally taxing of assignments.

  “There’s something about those last few hours in a person’s life. I never really understood it before, but then a few years back we had this young native nurse in the unit. Ojibwe I think. One of those girls from up Duluth way. Anyway, she said something that kind of clicked with me. She said her people don’t believe in those death masks that some other kinds of Native Americans like. We were talking about dying, and she said some cultures would mask their dying so you couldn’t glimpse their true nature. Her people believe you can’t hide your true nature during birth or death. She said we were all kind of acting a role we think we’re born to play. I think I kinda realized then the truth of it. I don’t know how many times I watched some mean old man die in his bed alone without a single soul from his family caring a fig. I used to hate those cases because it put all the pressure on the staff, but the truth was, they were ugly men. You could see it in their eyes. Well, that and the fear. I guess for some the threat of imminent death forces them to face all their vile behaviors.”

  Madeleine wanted to ask more, but knew from experience her mother wasn’t done. Some significant transformation had happened to her, and she knew the best course was to be silent and patient. Whatever her mother needed to tell her was important.

  Finishing her wine, her mother set her glass on the table, nudging it toward her husband to have it topped up. “About a year after you left school and headed to Vegas, we stood by and watched Marybeth go through hell with her parents, coming out and all. Now, I was just right there with her mom. ‘It’s unnatural. It’s an abomination,’ and all that bullshit. I was just as bad as that woman. And I was mad as hell when Marybeth’s grandparents took in her and young April. I’m ashamed of the vitriol that sprang from my mouth. Anyway, things died down, then we got a new patient in the ward. Stage IV lymphoma, and in rolls the most beautiful little thing you’ve ever seen and before I can decide if this one’s going to break my heart, in marches her entourage: wife, three kids, two brothers, four parents, and the whole pack of grandparents. I was a jerk to them all until it occurred to me that that young native nurse was right. I never have seen so much love from so many people for just one sick woman. After she was gone I started to accept the goodness I had seen and not just with her family but with her. Her last four hours were probably the most beautiful I’ve ever witnessed. She was like a little angel. Her only concern was for her children and wife, her brothers, parents, and grandparents and all in that order. The night before she died, I asked her if she was scared. That girl just smiled at me, the kindest, sweetest smile I’ve ever seen and said to me, ‘I’ve been fearful for my children, my wife, and my family. All I can do is console myself that they’re in God’s hands and hope I’ve taught them well.’

  ‘“Aren’t you scared for you?’ I asked. I was thinking about all those scared mean old men who died alone facing their sins. In my book, I thought this girl was as sinful as you could get, yet here she was. She was dying. She was fearless. And she was surrounded by love. About an hour before she passed, she touched my hand and thanked me. Thanked me!”

  Her mother was choking up, an unexpected sight. So unexpected Madeleine almost choked on her wine, but settled herself, allowing her mother the time to regain her composure. “Then she says, ‘Let the love in. That’s where God lives. Not in the lies and hate but in love.’ I was caught without a damn thing to say. It wasn’t her words so much as the truth of her. Next day I went up to our church and asked the Reverend to show me in the book where it says God wants us to hate queers.”

  “Mom…”

  “Oh, I know that’s wrong now, but I knew nothin’ then. The worst part was when he couldn’t find the proof for me, that place that spelled out all the hateful things I’d been thinking and saying. The next day I had it out with Marybeth’s mom, and I had your dad go over to the garage and ask young April for her phone number. She’s been a good friend to me, Maddie. Talkin’ to me about life and people the church never let us even think about. Now your dad says you met a girl and you’re worried I’ll hate you or disown you the way Marybeth’s parents disowned her. Well, I’m here to tell you, Maddie, it happened. I watched your sister with that idiot she married and I can’t help but wonder, what was she thinking? I raised you girls better than that. I could sit here like Marybeth’s mom and content myself with the fact that your sister’s given me grandchildren, but I can’t do that. Besides, there’s the fifty-fifty chance your niece and nephew will turn out to be just as big dumbasses as your brother-in-law…”

  “Now hon,” Madeleine’s dad said, interrupting gently. “Let’s just remember, each to his own gifts.”

  Madeleine smiled while her mother giggled at her father’s gentle way of trying to keep everyone included. “So you’re not shocked?”

  “Oh, I’m shocked as all get out. Unlike Marybeth, you were boy crazy from the day you were born. I’m having a hell of a time figuring out how you got turned around, and I’ve got two theories. On the one hand,” she offered, holding up her wineglass, “I think this girl you met is something really special. I figure she’d have to be to turn your head. Otherwise,” she held up the other hand, this one grasping a cigarette, “and this would make me mad as all hell, I’m worrying some man has done my little girl so wrong, she can’t even look at another man. If that’s the case, Maddie, I promise you we’ll get you all the help and counseling you need.”

  It was fascinating to watch the dilemma going on within her mother. Also a relief that her scenarios of cause went beyond the typical “women only became lesbians because they’ve suffered at the hands of sexually and physically abusive males.” Her mother was willing to consider that might not be the case. That was something.

  What about me? Am I willing to accept my mother’s interpretation? Is Kara that one extraordinary woman who could turn my head?

  “Nothing happened to me, Mom. Trust me, even in Las Vegas, there are some decent guys. It wasn’t like that. It was…Well, it was a sort of accident.”

  Her father cleared his throat dramatically but kept his mouth shut.

  “Okay, I’ll admit she is, well, she is extraordinary.”

  “She must be one hell of a beauty.”

  “She is, Mom. Not in the usual sense. It’s not her looks that did me in. It’s, it’s a sort of kindness she has.”

  “Lots of folks are kind, Maddie. I meet kind folks at the hospital every single day, but you don’t see me fallin’ in love with them. Yes, your father told me it’s love you feel for her. If that’s the truth I want to hear what it is about this girl that turned your head, especially under the circumstances. Don’t give me that look, young lady. Your father told me everything. Now I want to hear it from you.”

  For the first time since returning home, Madeleine felt the same panic that had overwhelmed her as a teenager whenever her mother would confront her. Back then it was usually about her getting caught with a bad boy doing bad things. Only this time she hadn’t been doing bad things. She could honestly say they were all very, very good.

  “Maddie I’m not mad at you. I just want to understand.”

  “Mom, it’s just, it’s just I screwed everything up. I guess Dad told you I took the role thinking it would be some fast cash. I didn’t want to do it but Franco talked me into it and to be blunt I haven’t been getting much work these last few years. Not since turning thirty.”

  “My goodness,” her father said, shaking his head. “What’s the world come to when people think a beautiful woman is old at thirty? Hell, I think your mother is more beautiful every day.”

  She smiled at his honesty. For as long as she could remember he had adored her mother and never missed an occasion or opportunity to demonstrate his feelings. He was one of
those few smart men that believed a happy wife made for a happy life. “It seems it’s thirty for Vegas, forty for LA, and fifty for the theatre. Only TV seems to be free of the stale date for women these days.”

  “Oh Maddie, just tell me what happened?”

  “Mom, I… I hurt her. I guess I convinced myself that somehow it was okay because it wasn’t real. Then when I started feeling…I kept thinking this is just some game she likes to play, but she didn’t know. She… I hurt her and now that it’s over I feel like I’ve lost part of me. It’s like if I don’t fix this thing I’ll never forgive myself. I guess I don’t know what to do.”

  Her mother emptied the ashtray in the can below the sink and grabbed a fresh bottle of wine, handing it and the corkscrew to her husband. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go sit on the new back deck your dad put in. Looks like this is a good evening for lots of wine and forthright conversation.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kara pulled her Land Rover into her usual parking spot in the domed basement of the building she had long ago converted to lofts. When she’d bought the building, she kept the two-story façade as it was, but inside was a completely modern structure with one exception. She had insisted, and the city engineer agreed, to keep the deep vaulted basement intact. The basement of the one-time Dominion Printers to Queen Victoria required no changes or shoring. The builders had dropped steel beams in behind the façade walls of the first two floors, adding four new floors above. The upper four stories had the look of a glassed-in cube perched ever so carefully on the parapets of the Gothic brick base. During construction, and with an exceedingly tight budget, she worried she might need to raise additional cash, and decided to divide the top floor into four condominium apartments. When the real estate agent leased all the rental units during the open house, she held off on finishing the condos. Instead, she took the two south facing units for herself and added the rooftop terrace. A year after the building opened, her mother approached her and quietly negotiated the purchase of the other two units for herself. She confessed to her daughter that her marriage to Kara’s father was over. His infidelities were frequent but usually discreet. When his discretion waned so had Marsha Wexler’s patience for her husband and the father of her children.

  Kara huffed out a breath. The one day her mother wouldn’t be home was the one day she wasn’t sure she could make it from the car to the penthouse. Deciding to forgo trying to haul in her gear, she opened the door of the SUV and slipped out slowly, bracing her legs and locking her knees to hold her weight. She stood, with one hand clamped hard to the door, the other still hanging on to the holy-shit bar as she tried her weight. The yelp of pain that followed was quickly squashed as she forced herself to suck it up. Yes, her back hurt. Yes, she had overdone the rowing. Yes, it was going to be a challenge to get upstairs. Closing the door, she pushed herself off her vehicle, letting momentum carry her to the old freight door, thankful she had kept the building’s original Otis elevator in good working order.

  The original and massive cage was the oldest working elevator in the city. When she’d contacted Otis for advice, they were quick to let her know it was also Toronto’s first elevator. It was massive, so big it was used to deliver truckloads of paper and huge Victorian printing machines from the street level down to the two-story deep basement with its vaulted brick and stone ceiling. When she designed the new building, she had planned to replace the oversized and ancient thing with two normal-sized cars. Respecting the history, not to mention the pride and service the Otis Company offered, she instead included shaft space on all the new floors, adding new cables and pulleys to have the big car reach the top floor. She was often teased and even bullied for the expense. Today she thanked her foresight and the Otis Company for begging to keep the historic machine operating. Reality was, there was no way she was getting herself up six flights of stairs after the day she’d had.

  All week she’d been on the go, moving, working, making things happen. As long as she was doing, she had no time for thinking. Friday night, alone on the rooftop terrace, the city’s evening twilight dwindling, she could no longer pretend she wasn’t hurting. She missed Madeleine. Longed for her.

  Unable to sleep, she’d given up at half past two. Dressing in her workout gear, she grabbed her backpack deciding to head out to the Argonaut Rowing Club, grab a solo boat and be first on the water.

  Fourteen hours later, she was nauseated from having forgotten to eat.

  She’d given herself a workout of a lifetime. By the end of the day, she knew she’d overdone it. On the drive home, she chastised herself for exceeding the design limits of her short-ass, out of shape body, forgetting completely that she was on her own at home.

  Kara made it as far as her own kitchen. Leaning over the sink, chilled and shaking like a leaf, she could feel sweat dripping down and soaking her already damp T-shirt. Grabbing the Tylenol out of the cabinet and the bottle of pink goop that would settle her stomach, she tried to control the shaking. It was easy to keep her mind off the nausea. All she had to do was try and move, causing her back and thighs to scream from the pain. She was at a loss to know whether she should try and crawl to her bed, head for a hot bath, or just collapse right there on the kitchen floor. The marble floor did look nice and cool.

  The sound of her cell phone interrupted her debate. She was surprised to realize it was still in her back pocket and not lost somewhere in her car or in her knapsack, which of course was still in the car too. “Wexler,” she growled, hitting the speaker button and dumping the phone on the counter.

  There was a long pause, then she finally heard a questioning voice, “Kara?”

  With pain impinging on her thought processes, it took a moment for her to recognize the voice. “Madeleine?”

  “Yes, yes it’s me. I’m so sorry. I… I hope it’s okay that I’m calling. I just… I needed, I wanted…” A long silence hung between them. “I want you to know…I mean, I want to say I’m sorry and, and, and I wanted to hear your voice.”

  As Kara battled to balance her physical pain with her longing and confusion, the digital silence between them began to build in to a crisp icy wall.

  “It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk. I…I just want you to know, what happened between us. It wasn’t…it wasn’t supposed to happen it, it just did. I guess you don’t want to talk. I understand. I just want you to know that I don’t do that kind of thing. I mean I never have before. And what happened, it happened because…clearly, you don’t want to hear this, but I just wanted you to know that I actually feel something for you and I’m sorry and I just wish we could talk. I’ll let you go. Just so you know, if you ever want to call or…”

  “Madeleine.” She took a few quick breaths. “I’m not mad. Sorry.” She sucked in more air, trying not to hyperventilate. It was all she could do to stay standing, much less talk. “I am mad but,” huff, huff, huff, huff, “I’m hurt.”

  “I understand and, and it’s the absolute last thing—”

  “Madeleine!” Huff, huff, “I hurt myself.”

  “I understand I… wait… Oh my God, honey. What have you done?”

  There was panic in her voice, and something else, something Kara couldn’t push past her periphery. Was it concern? Was it real? “No!” Huff, huff, huff, huff, huff. “At rowing.” Huff, huff, huff. “Pulled my back and—”

  “Oh my God, where are you? Are you still at the rowing club? Is there someone who can help you?”

  “No,” huff, huff, “home, got to lie down but…”

  Sitting on her parents’ front porch, Madeleine was on her feet and pacing. Did she just hear all the telltale signs of Kara falling? In her mind, she played scenarios from every movie she’d ever seen where someone falls and hits their head and dies from a head injury that goes unattended. With her phone pressed tight to one ear and her hand covering the other, she begged for Kara to let her know she was alive. She suffered through a few minutes of digital silence before she picked up on the faint sound of s
oft moans. Whipping through the front door past her dad watching a baseball game, she grabbed the kitchen phone and dialed Joanne’s number. She had the woman on speed dial on her own phone but wouldn’t risk severing her connection with the injured Kara.

  “Hey Madeleine, what a surprise to—”

  “Jo, I’ve got her on the line. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?”

  “Your sister. I called her. She’s hurt herself. She said it was at rowing. I think she passed out while she was talking to me. Joanne, you’ve gotta go over there. Go do something. Please.”

  “Holy cow you called her? That’s so cool Madeleine. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Joanne! Eyes on the prize, girl. Something happened to your sister. I think she’s passed out.”

  “You sure she’s not just messing with you? It’s rowing, not hockey. How could—”

  “Joanne, please! Can you just go over and check on her? I’m listening to her right now. Something is terribly wrong.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she was hurt. She hurt her back at rowing, then I heard her fall. She said she was at home. Can you go over there? If you don’t do it, I’m calling 9-1-1.”

  “Whoa there, girl. No worries. I’m on my way. Are you?”

  Madeleine could hear the sounds of Joanne scurrying around her home, her door slamming. “Joanne, I’m still in Minneapolis. I can’t get there from here.”

  “Really?”

  In the background, it was easy to hear the sound of Joanne’s car’s unfastened seat belt warning blare. “Last time I checked, they have airplanes that go from here to there and back again. I’m surprised you don’t know about it.” The car engine started. “Way I hear it, the whole thing’s some sort of American invention. I’ll call you when I get to Kara’s…can’t drive and talk at the same time.” And with that, she was gone.