When the waiter brought their order, Garth directed him to the terrace and, when he had left, closed and locked the door. That was their only distraction; the rest of the time Stephanie talked, and as she told her story, all the parts of her life came together: her years growing up with Sabrina, college, marriage to Garth, the birth of her children, her brief time in London pretending to be Sabrina, the months in France with Max, Robert, Jacqueline, and then Léon. And she saw herself standing outside the café, watching her children with Alexandra; she felt again the warm window beneath her palms, saw Penny and Cliff waver through her tears. It was the first time she had seen everything at once, and she began to realize that there were some parts of her that she could never recapture.
When she finished her story, they sat in silence. One of the bottles of wine was empty; the coffeepot on its warmer was half full. The seafood salad was untouched.
“But there’s something else,” Stephanie said at last, looking at her hands, clasped in her lap. “I’m having trouble making sense of who I am. I used to know, when I lived in Evanston, but I didn’t like myself very much; that was why I wanted Sabrina’s life. I wanted to be her a lot more than she wanted to be me; I really believed that I could put on a new life like a new coat, and then I’d be everything I wanted to be.”
“And were you?” Garth asked. It was the first time he had spoken, and when Sabrina heard in his voice the curiosity of the scientist, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Stephanie’s glance flickered toward him, then away. “It seemed that way. I knew I was only playing a part, but I was almost perfect because I’d been longing for it for so many years, and because Sabrina was inside me somehow, helping me without my realizing it.” For a brief moment she looked directly at Garth. “I know we did a terrible thing, and I’m sorry, but for a little while I was so happy. I forgot how overwhelming the world had seemed every morning when I woke up; I felt I could do anything. But of course I knew, underneath, that I couldn’t; I knew I was only playing a part, that I couldn’t really be Sabrina because I’d left too much behind that I really cared about.” Her glance slid past Garth’s eyes again. “I kept wanting more and more adventures because I thought that was the way to stay happy, to forget the person I’d been, the one I didn’t like. So I held on to being Sabrina; I couldn’t let go. But, underneath, I knew I couldn’t ever really step into Sabrina’s life because of everything I’d left behind. I’d had so much, much more than I’d realized, and then I’d abandoned it, but it was always there, whatever else I did.”
“You got what you wanted,” Garth said, still with the absorbed air of the scientist. “You wanted to forget who you were, and you did.”
Stephanie stared at him. “Yes, but I didn’t plan to forget. The doctors told me I was repressing my life because I felt guilty about something I’d done. And they were right, but that didn’t help me remember. But now, when I do remember, I don’t seem to be anyone. I mean, I don’t seem to fit in anywhere.”
Sabrina took her hand. “You will. You haven’t had enough time to get used to remembering.”
“No, it’s more than that.” She took her hand from Sabrina’s and turned her empty glass between her fingers. “I told you the other day that you kept on being yourself all the time you were being me. This whole year, you’ve been both of us. You knew what you wanted, you knew where you belonged and you trusted yourself to shape your future. I guess most people know those things and don’t wonder about them at all, as if they’ve built a house and furnished it and they can go from room to room with their eyes closed, they know it so well, and they know it belongs to them and no one else, so it becomes a reflection of them and they see themselves every time they walk in the door.”
She looked again at Garth and saw an intense interest in his eyes. For the first time since their early years together, she felt the stirrings of pleasure that she had caught Garth Andersen’s attention. “But when I was in London all I wanted was to be Sabrina: I kept pushing Stephanie Andersen away. And then, in France, I was Sabrina Lacoste, and I made a life there, as whole as I could make it. So many lives, so many feelings, all mixed up inside me and I’ve lost whoever I was and I don’t know who I am now. Or where I belong.”
A wren flew down to the terrace wall, pecked at a stone, hopped a few exploratory feet, and then, with a rush of small wings, flew off.
“All I have are my children. Don’t you see? You’ve got to understand this: they’re all I’m really sure of! I think about them and everything seems clear. I know they could give me what I don’t have: I’d be their mother, so I’d know who I am, and we’d make a life together, and I’d know where I belong.”
Sabrina leaned forward to pour from the second bottle of wine. She waited a moment to steady her hand before she refilled their glasses. “I thought it was the parents’ job to help children find out who they are and where they belong.”
Stephanie flushed. “That’s a cruel thing to say. I’m trying to be honest.”
“So am I. Penny and Cliff already have what you’re looking for. They’ve learned a lot in the past year. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed! Damn you, damn you, you know I have!” She stared angrily at Sabrina through sudden tears. “They’re so different; how could I miss it? They’re . . . stronger than they were.” Her voice faltered. “Bolder. More adventurous.” And then she spoke aloud the words that had been gnawing at her since she had been with her children that morning. “Like you.”
“Like both of us,” Sabrina said quickly. “You brought them up for all those years before I got there.”
“No. You know what I mean. All those years I envied you, it wasn’t just for the life you led, it was because you were the one who reached out for adventures. You helped me come along when we were young, you even led me, and I was grateful . . . but it isn’t easy being grateful. And then when I was living in Evanston, I’d get angry with myself for holding back when I knew you would have gone out of your way to meet somebody new or handle a problem or face a crisis instead of running from it. That’s what you’ve given to Penny and Cliff. They won’t grow up feeling angry at themselves for being afraid of adventures. They’ll forge ahead. Like you.”
For the first time, Garth felt a stab of pity for Stephanie. He knew she was right: in one year with Sabrina his children had grown more eager to rush forward and embrace whatever might lie ahead, more confident of their future. They were no smarter or nicer than they had been when they lived with Stephanie, but they were more able to take on the world. And Stephanie knew it.
Sabrina was conscious of Garth observing them. It was the first time, she thought, that an outsider had watched them work out the tensions and love and unfathomable closeness between them. But then she caught herself. An outsider? Her beloved Garth; Penny and Cliff’s father. Sitting back in his chair, looking relaxed and casually interested, as Sabrina had seen him look many times when he was in fact intently listening, weighing new information, analyzing it and incorporating it into his world. There was nothing sloppy or careless about her beloved Garth: he was passionately curious about everything and, except when angry, willing to listen to anything, but it was facts he trusted; he relied on emotions only when they did not create havoc with an orderly world. He was not an outsider; he was part of whatever order she and Stephanie would create from the confusion they had wrought. He belonged with them; they were all part of each other now.
As if she were looking down from above, she saw the three of them held together as if by the strands of a spiderweb, invisible until the sun struck it at the right angle. Then, briefly, the connections and strength of the bonds became clear. Three of us, she thought, sitting together in Paris beneath a brilliant sun and a clear blue sky and a little wren who keeps swooping by to check us out: three people caught in a drama infinitesimally small on the world’s stage but so enormous within the boundaries of our lives that it overwhelms us with its possibilities for happiness or despair. We
are being very civilized about it all. But we are very frightened.
As the silence stretched out, Stephanie jumped up and stood a little distance away, leaning against the terrace wall, her arms folded protectively across her chest. “You’ve all changed, you know; it’s obvious. You’re not as hard as you used to be,” she said to Garth, “even with all the terrible things you’ve said today. The way I remember you, your face always looked so stern, as if you were about to give a lecture or scold somebody. And, it’s funny, but you seem more sure of yourself, too, like Penny and Cliff. I don’t know what that means: maybe it means you’ve discovered there’s more to life than genetics.”
She saw him look at Sabrina; she saw their eyes meet and hold. “I guess,” she sighed. “I guess that’s it. And you’re in love,” she said to Sabrina. “I’ve never seen you when you really loved someone. I thought you loved Denton when you married him, but that was just excitement, wasn’t it? You’re different now. As if everything is in the right place and you can reach out beyond yourself and . . . soar.”
Sabrina smiled. “I like that. It’s what I thought about you, in Vézelay.”
“Oh. I seemed that way to you? It seems like such a long time ago.”
She paced with short, nervous steps, trailing her hand along the stone wall. “Maybe I was that way. I think I felt that way before I remembered everything. Then I got so confused . . .”
In the corner of the terrace she turned and faced them. “You’ve made a new family,” she said, almost accusingly. “You’ve all changed so much, especially Penny and Cliff; they’re so . . . oh, God, they’re so happy. And I don’t know if . . . if it would be best for them . . . I’m not sure . . .” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.
“Stephanie.” Sabrina began to stand up to go to her, but Garth leaned forward and put a hand on her arm. She turned and met his eyes again, and in that moment, with the warmth of his hand holding them together, she chose to stay with him and let Stephanie find her own way, alone.
Stephanie opened her eyes. “I don’t think . . . when children are happy, anybody should take that from them. They’re so beautiful, aren’t they—Penny and Cliff? So full of life and joy and fun . . . They were dancing down the street with Alexandra as if they were going off to conquer Paris. They weren’t afraid of anything! Well, yes, they were: they were afraid their parents weren’t being loving to each other. And I guess they’re used to seeing loving parents, aren’t they? They’re used to that. A house filled with love. Aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Sabrina said quietly.
Stephanie bent her head. She picked at a stone on the wall, just as the wren had pecked at it earlier, concentrating on it. “All last night, when neither of us was sleeping, I was thinking about the four of you in Evanston, in that awful old house that always creaked and needed fixing somewhere, and in the kitchen, making dinner and eating together . . . I could see all the rooms so clearly, and all of you in them, being together . . . All those things you told me when we were in London, about their school and Cliff’s soccer and Penny’s painting and their friends, and that Chinese boy . . . all night I thought about you, the four of you, but mostly about Penny and Cliff, and I knew they were happy, and then when I saw them, it was more than I’d ever imagined . . . how happy and secure and loving they are in a . . . in a loving family.”
There was a long silence. The sounds of traffic were like ocean waves in the background, isolating the terrace with its three motionless people. “What I mean is, I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t imagine . . . forcing myself into that. Into what you’ve created. Because they don’t think anything is wrong, anything is missing. I wanted to believe they thought that, but they don’t. They’re happy. Their world is solid and familiar and . . . stable. They’re full of trust, not fear. As long as . . . as long as I . . . as long as I keep quiet.”
She looked at Garth. “I asked for them today because I thought if you said yes, we could work something out. I thought it would be so wonderful to have them that I’d do anything to make them happy and then they would be.” A rueful smile touched her lips. “Instant happiness. I didn’t have any new ideas about how we’d do it or what I’d tell them when they knew I wasn’t Sabrina—because of course they would know; there’s no way I could fool them for more than a few hours—I just wanted it to happen because it would be so wonderful. The same way I wanted to be Sabrina because that would be wonderful. As if I could wish into being a world that was wonderful. But what would I do when they started wondering why I wasn’t like the mother they knew? I couldn’t tell them the truth. I thought I could think of a way to do it, but there isn’t one. They’d never trust me again. Children think their parents will always be there for them. I guess they find ways to handle divorce, but this wasn’t a divorce: this was a game—Robert called it foolhardy and dangerous—and we played it so carelessly, as if we were playing with a deck of cards. How do you make children believe their world is stable and reliable after that? I can’t do it. I can’t take them away and pretend to be their—” Her lips moved, but no sound came. And then, her voice almost inaudible, she said, “—pretend to be their mother, when they’ve already got one.”
Sabrina felt a rush of wonder and joy that left her breathless, and then a terrible sadness. Stephanie, you can’t walk away from them forever; you love them so.
But isn’t that exactly what I want her to do?
Garth went to Stephanie and took her in his arms. She looked at him through her tears and then laid her head on his shoulder like a child. “I’m sorry, Garth, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry; I didn’t think about what I was doing, I just went ahead, and you deserved better, and so did Penny and Cliff; I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
“Hush, it’s over, it’s over.” Garth stroked her hair. “It’s done; we can’t go back.” Over Stephanie’s head, he met Sabrina’s eyes and, jubilantly, felt once again the unalloyed wonder he had felt for a year whenever he looked at her and knew she was part of his life, part of him, and nothing could shatter that. “We wouldn’t go back, even if we could,” he said to her. “We’ve traveled too far; we’ve made too many discoveries.”
“But we have to find a way,” Sabrina said to him. “The three of us.”
“Yes. We will.” His love for her seemed to him so transcendent, their understanding so instinctive and complete, that he knew there could be no room, ever again, for a deception between them: no room, no need, no place in what they would build on that which they had already begun. In the damnedest way possible, he thought wryly, but we have made a beginning, and a good one, and from now on we’ll . . . what had Stephanie said? Soar. From now on, we’ll soar.
The wren had returned and was swooping in narrowing circles, looking for a place to land. Garth smiled. Stubborn bird. He’ll find his place. We all do, if we’re lucky.
He held Stephanie away from him. “Listen to me. You’re not going to walk completely out of Penny and Cliff’s life. We won’t be a party to that. We’ll tell them the same truth we’ll tell everyone else: that their Aunt Sabrina wasn’t killed in the explosion, that she lost her memory and has been living in France since January, that she’s recovered her memory and loves them and wants to see them as often as possible, even more often than she used to. And that we’ll visit her in Vézelay or wherever she’s living, as often as we can.”
Stephanie was staring at him, standing stiffly within his loose embrace. With a sharp movement, she pulled away and walked to the other end of the terrace and stood there, her head bent, her hands over her ears. There is no end to a deception once it begins.
She saw Sabrina walking toward her and turned her back, leaning her forehead against the stone wall, still holding her ears. On and on and on: endless ramifications, circles and more circles, layers and layers piling up, until it becomes a new truth.
And this was the new truth: that she would play a part in her children’s life. Not the part a mother expected to play, but
a part that would allow her to see her children grow, and give her opportunities over the years to tell them how much she loved them and wanted what was best for them, wanted them to be the strongest, happiest people they could be.
On the fringes, Stephanie thought. I’ll always be on the fringes of the Andersen family, the one to wave goodbye when they go off together to their home, their shared experiences, their private stories and jokes, their plans for tomorrow and the next day and the next.
It isn’t enough.
It’s better than nothing.
And in that moment she gave up Stephanie Andersen and took to herself Sabrina Longworth. Not the Sabrina she had replaced in London, but a new one, entirely hers. Somehow she would make a life from that name.
Garth saw the slight straightening of her shoulders and knew she had made up her mind. It occurred to him briefly that they would have to find a way to get a divorce. We don’t really have to, he thought: if she’s going to be Sabrina, she’s been divorced from Denton for years and she’s never been married to me. But I think we’ll all want to do it as soon as possible, and put an end to as much as we can of this crazy adventure.
“Stephanie,” Sabrina said.
Stephanie turned. “Wrong name,” she said shakily, trying to smile, and then they were in each other’s arms. And if their world had turned upside down and they could not yet fathom how they would deal with the twists and turns of the coming years, they were still together, they had not lost each other, there would still be a voice at the other end of the telephone line, saying, “You understand, you always understand.”
Stephanie held her sister as if she could never let her go, but then, steeling herself, she kissed Sabrina on both cheeks and stepped back. “I can’t see Penny and Cliff now; I can’t talk to them yet. I have to get ready to be their Aunt Sabrina, and that’s going to take a while.”
A Tangled Web Page 58
