Facing Elena, Terri brushed the little girl’s hair back from her forehead. ‘I know you’re sad, sweetheart. But you don’t need to be scared. I’ll make sure that everything’s okay.’
Elena studied her intently, as if trying to believe. Rosa appeared, touching Elena’s shoulder. ‘I have a coloring book for you, precious. At the desk in your mommy’s old room upstairs. If you color a picture for me, I’ll put it on the refrigerator.’
Elena hesitated. And then, choosing the world of a child, she went with Rosa to find her crayons.
Terri sat on the couch, thoughts tired and diffuse, looking around the house where she had become who she was. A small, square living room with a low ceiling; the smaller dining room where Terri and her youngster sisters used to sit, talking to their mother, watching their father from the corners of their eyes; the dark stairway to the bedrooms. It was the same, yet different. After her father’s death, Terri and Rosa had repainted the inside. No one said why; they hardly spoke of her father again. But the eggshell white they chose was a color that Ramon Peralta had despised.
There were other changes as well. Gone were the things of Tern’s father: the crucifix, a family photograph he had commissioned during a sober period – Ramon surrounded by Rosa and his dark-haired daughters, smiling tightly in a new suit he never wore again. It was as if he had tried to make the picture become reality by placing it on the wall. Terri had taken it down, silently handing it to her mother. Terri never saw the picture again.
Her father had been dead for fifteen years now. Yet she could never sit in this room without the guilty fear that she had done something to displease him. Even the silence reminded her of the school friends she could not have over, the things Terri and her sisters could never speak of outside this house. Like the cracking sound of his open palm as it struck their mother’s face.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Rosa crossed the living room and sat next to Terri, folding her hands. Somewhere between Terri’s childhood and now, her mother had lost the habit of smiling; her face often seemed as somber as a Velázquez oil. But there were flashes of humor, and she was striking yet: the arresting brown-green eyes, the even mouth and well-defined features that Terri knew to be her own, although she could never think of herself as pretty like her mother. Today, as always, Rosa’s jet-black hair was drawn back and her makeup applied carefully: it was part of Rosa’s dignity that nothing was out of place. She watched her daughter with a look of sadness and expectation.
‘I can’t go back,’ Terri said.
‘No?’ Perhaps because English had not been her first language, Rosa spoke it carefuly, with a correctness and perfect diction that Terri or Elena would never have. ‘Is it really so bad?’
‘I think so.’ Terri tried to find words. ‘I think maybe he’s worse than I know but that I’ve never had a way of really understanding.’
Rosa’s eyes were unnaturally still; Terri sensed that she understood Terri’s reference to her father. Then her mother surprised her by asking simply, ‘Until now?’
There was no mistaking what Rosa meant, or who. Not for the first time, Terri reflected that her mother knew her all too well. ‘I don’t know yet,’ she said at last. ‘Perhaps.’
‘And Richie?’
‘He served papers this morning.’ Terri glanced upstairs. ‘He wants custody.’
Rosa leaned back in the couch. ‘Where were you?’
Terri felt her gaze. ‘At Chris’s,’ she answered. ‘Richie was waiting.’
‘That is like him.’ Rosa’s eyes were grave; Terri sensed that she was not surprised, and then remembered that this was also like Ramon Peralta. ‘What did he say?’
In a flat voice, leaving nothing out, Terri told her.
Rosa listened with an averted gaze, as if to make this easier for her daughter. Only when Terri finished did she look up again.
‘He means to make you pay for Chris,’ Rosa said with weary certainty. ‘The price will be Elena.’
Terri shook her head. ‘It goes deeper than Chris. Or jealousy. Richie wants me alone, without anyone except for him. He always has.’
‘Then he did well.’ The remark was dispassionate, but
Terri could feel her mother’s hurt: over the years with Richie, concealing who he was from others and from herself, Terri had become more distant from her mother and sisters. ‘I would have wanted a better life for you, Terri. And for Elena.’
There was an emphasis on the last three words. Terri chose not to answer.
‘Ricardo frightens me,’ Rosa said slowly. ‘And I do not think that he should ever raise Elena. So I have to ask: should you leave him without trying? At least for a time.’
‘I don’t think I can try anymore. There’s something damaged about him, and we’re terrible for Elena.’ Unbidden but powerful, the thought of Chris came over her. ‘I can’t stand to have him touch me.’
‘But this is not just about Richie, is it?’ Her mother leaned forward. ‘You’re my daughter, and I love you more deeply than you will ever know. For many years, it was you, before anyone, who gave my life its meaning. But you’re also Elena’s mother now. And mothers are not free.’
It was close to the surface, Terri thought, the unspoken thing that lay between them. ‘I know how important a family can be,’ Terri answered coolly. ‘That’s why I left him.’
Her mother did not flinch. ‘Then you know what you must do. Stay away from Christopher Paget, as Richie asks. Leave your job, if necessary.’
Terri felt her stomach tighten. ‘I don’t know if I can. Or even should. For Elena’s sake as well as mine.’
Rosa shook her head. ‘Elena has no interest in your love life. When you chose to have Elena, many years before you met this man, you chose to put her first. Hers is the new life, fresh and unspoiled, and it was given to you to protect. That’s how it must be now, however hurtful.’
Terri paused for a moment. For years, Rosa Peralta had been her only security, the person who, for Terri, defined what love was. It still pained Terri to quarrel with her: when she spoke again, her voice was strained. ‘I don’t know what this will become. And you don’t know Chris.’
‘I know enough. I watched the trial on television, after all. I heard you speak of him.’ She stopped. ‘And I hoped, in spite of what I saw in your face, that you would never fall in love with him.’
‘Well,’ Terri answered softly, ‘I have.’
‘And I understand. He is smart and successful. He’s quite handsome. He may even love you.’ Rosa looked into Terri’s face. ‘And only someone your age would think that is enough.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Chris will cost you Elena. Can you forget so quickly who Richie is? After she’s gone, you will see Elena every time you look at Chris’s face.’
‘I’m not choosing Chris over Elena.’ Her voice rose. ‘He’s a wonderful father, Mama. You should see Carlo . . .’
Her mother touched her arm. ‘And then you must ask: “Does Chris really love me? Or is a man who wants a woman so much younger more in love with his youth than with her?”’ Rosa took her hand now. ‘How old did you say he is, Teresa? Forty-five?’
‘Yes.’
‘Three years younger than I am. He should call me.’ Her mother smiled, but Terri heard the bitter joke beneath: Rosa’s interest in men had died with Ramon Peralta, as if he had branded her, heart and memory. When Rosa spoke again, her voice was quiet and sad. ‘Do not make this decision, Teresa. Not just for Elena’s sake, but for your own.’
Terri stood. ‘I won’t let myself lose her, Chris or no Chris. But Chris may be my chance to be happy, Mom. If we choose to be together, it will be because I’ve found out what that means.’
Rosa stared up at her. ‘And what is that,’ she said at last, ‘without Elena? That when Christopher Paget dies, far too soon yet not soon enough, you will remember once having loved him.’
Terri was quite for a time. Softly she asked, ‘And what do you
remember?’
Rosa did not answer. Terri turned and walked from the room, ashamed at her question, not wanting to see her mother’s face.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Terri returned to Chris’s, with Elena.
Carlo was eating cereal at the kitchen counter, a baseball cap shoved backward over his black curly hair, lean body arranged in the pose of languid cool that only teenage boys can manage. Elena walked directly up to him.
He looked down at her with a slightly bemused smile, as if a cartoon character had just walked into his kitchen. Even now, in Tern’s memory, the moment made her smile.
‘Hi, squirt,’ Carlo said casually. ‘Remember me?’
Terri knew the answer. Three weeks before, when Elena had met Carlo for the first and only time, he had contrived to let her beat him at a game. Winning was something Elena did not forget.
‘You’re Carlo,’ Elena responded. ‘I beat you at Blockhead. I’m the champion of this house.’
Carlo looked askance at her. ‘Only as long,’ he said with feigned annoyance, ‘as I let you be.’
For the first time in days, Elena’s eyes danced. ‘I can beat you,’ she teased. ‘I can beat you all the time.’
Glancing quickly at Chris and Terri, Carlo rolled his eyes. ‘Who do you think I am, Munchkin. My father?’
Sensing the joke, Elena turned to Chris. ‘No,’ she decided. ‘He’s too old.’
‘You’ve got that right.’ Carlo flashed the crooked smile that had so engaged Terri, and then turned to his father with a fond but discomfited gaze. ‘Although I guess you’re never too old. If somebody’s nice enough to give you a break.’
The oblique remark, Terri recognized, was Carlo’s way of telling her that he knew things had changed.
‘Someone has to,’ Chris said equably. ‘I get so few at home.’
‘It’s my developmental role, Dad. You’ve said so yourself.’ Turning ack to Elena, Carlo saw her watching the adults with a puzzled look. ‘Tell you what,’ he said to the child. ‘Let me finish my cereal, and I’ll play you another game of Blockhead. If you can get my dad to dig the game out, I’ll even bring you a bowl of Happy Loops.’ He grinned down at her. ‘They’ve got lots of sugar in them – I eat ’em all the time.’
Chris and Elena went to the library. Carlo resumed munching his cereal, while he gave Terri a veiled, expectant look.
‘I guess your dad said something,’ Terri ventured.
Carlo nodded at his cereal. ‘A little.’
This was touchy, Terri thought. In their own way, children – even teenagers – were the most moral people in the world; through the Carelli trial, she and Carlo had become warm friends, and she did not wish to disappoint him.
‘I know this must be strange for you,’ Terri told him, ‘but I guess I have to say it. Your dad had nothing to do with my leaving Richie. He more or less found me on his doorstep yesterday. I’m not even sure it’s fair to him. Or you.’
Carlo gave a slight smile. ‘Don’t worry about me. He was in such a great mood last night it was absolutely obnoxious. Think I should ask him to up my allowance?’
It was, Terri decided, a teenage effort to make this easier. ‘Maybe a car phone,’ Terri answered dryly. ‘To go in the Maserati Chris has ordered for your sixteenth birthday.’
‘I’m sure,’ Carlo said, and then angled his head toward the library. ‘Does Elena know?’
‘Not really.’ Terri hesitated. ‘It’s hard explaining divorce to a five-year-old who just wants things the same.’
He nodded. ‘She won’t get it for a while. She probably thinks her dad’s a saint.’
Once more, the remark surprised her. ‘More like a martyr,’ Terri answered. ‘It would be easier if he were.’
Carlo gave a philosophical shrug. Terri could almost read his thoughts: Richie was not part of his life and never would be, which was fine with him. The world of adults – even the ones closest to him – could hold only so much interest.
‘This won’t be a regular thing,’ Terri told him. ‘doing Sesame Street.’
Carlo grinned. ‘Suits me,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a social life to work on. People who’ve passed puberty. But I’ll make an exception for the “children of divorce” – if they’re yours.’ He turned to Terri. ‘You don’t have any more of them, do you?’
Terri laughed. ‘Only Elena.’
‘Good deal.’ Carlo poured some Happy Loops and milk into a bowl. ‘I’d better go amuse the munchkin.’
Chris was back shortly, glancing over his shoulder. ‘Talk about the Odd Couple. This is a side of Carlo I’ve seldom seen.’
‘He’s a good kid, Chris. And he’s had a good dad.’ Terri glanced toward the library. ‘Think we can go for a walk? I don’t want Elena to hear this.’
Chris nodded. Telling Elena they’d be back soon, they passed through the dining room and living area, the high ceilings and bright art, and stepped outside. Terri found herself looking for Richie’s car.
They turned on Pacific Avenue, walking up Pierce Street to Alta Plaza, a gently rolling park that looked back down Pierce as it sloped for over a mile of city blocks to the blue water of San Francisco Bay. The bay was in front of them; to their left, on the rolling grass of the park, a group of kids played with a foam rubber football; the rhythmic volley of matches on four tennis courts sounded from behind them. They sat on a wooden bench, looking out at the bay.
‘You must feel pretty isolated,’ Chris said at last.
A few simple words of understanding, Terri realized, could bring her close to tears. ‘I should never have come yesterday,’ she said simply. ‘Richie sees you as a threat.’
‘I’m sure that’s how he wants you to feel.’ Chris’s voice had a trace of suppressed anger. ‘It’s not that I don’t understand. My first instinct would be to protect Carlo – whatever it took. If you really think seeing me means losing Elena, then you can’t see me. At least outside the office.’
Terri felt her throat constrict. ‘I don’t need you to be rational. I just need you to hold me, all right?’
His face softened, and then he brought her close. ‘Someone once told me,’ he murmured after a time, ‘that men have more answers than women have questions. I should remember that.’
Terri rested against his chest. ‘I can’t take the money you’ve offered,’ she said finally. ‘And you can’t be my lawyer.’
‘Why not?’
‘This morning Richie handed me a subpoena for my bank records.’ She leaned back, looking into his face. ‘You know what that’s about: if you’re giving me money, he’ll claim that I can afford to pay him even more support. Plus he’ll use it to imply that you enticed your impressionable young associate to leave her happy home. Which won’t help me at all when it comes to Elena.’
‘For God’s sake, Terri. It’s not like we’ve committed adultery – in fact, we haven’t committed anything. And even if we had, it’s not relevant to custody.’
‘He’ll make it relevant, and he’ll try to make any relationship we have seem bad for Elena. Trust me about this.’ Her voice rose. ‘We’re lawyers, Chris – we know what lawsuits can be like. And this is going to be a bad one, with all the dirty tricks, twisted facts, and psychological warfare Richie can imagine. Except that it’s about my child.’
‘There must be some way for you to buy him off.’
‘Not in exchange for Elena. He needs her too much.’ Terri felt bitterness overcome her. ‘It’s all about Richie, of course. He’ll do almost anything to win Elena over – play the martyr, lie about me, treat her as a little wife – because he’s in love with the man he sees in his daughter’s eyes. And because she’s his one excuse for not working.’
Chris gave a grimace of disgust. ‘Lots of people have jobs. ‘What’s his problem?’
‘I don’t think he can work for anyone. Before he stopped working entirely, he lost three law jobs. Or quit them; I could never quite tell. It was always someone else’s fault – they we
re stupid or didn’t understand him. But as long as I made money, and we could meet new people, every night was opening night – the great promoter-father and his loyal wife, coming soon to a cocktail party near you.’ Her voice filled with self-contempt. ‘Elena became part of it too. Whenever Richie made dinner, we’d both praise him, as if he’d done something wonderful.’
‘Why on earth did you stay with him?’
How to explain, Terri wondered, what she herself did not understand? ‘I’ve always told myself that he might have problems,’ she said at last, ‘but that he wasn’t so bad. And he kept telling me that we were a family now and good for Elena. That was what I’d always wanted: a real family, where the parents loved each other and the kids felt safe.’ She turned to him. ‘He knew that, Chris. Sometimes I think there’s a part of me Richie knows better than I ever can. Like all my life, Richie was waiting for me, sure that one day I’d be there for him.’
Chris’s look was searching. Terri sensed him wanting to know more, then decide that this was not the time. ‘What will you do now?’ he asked.
All at once, Terri felt the pressure of facing Richie alone. ‘The next couple of weeks are key,’ she said slowly. ‘First, we have to meet with the mediator. If that doesn’t work, we’re off to court to see who gets interim custody of Elena. For at least nine months, until there’s a trial.
‘Richie’s going to make a good impression, at least to start with – he always does. Two weeks isn’t enough time for anyone to figure out who he is. Unless I show them the real Richie, he’s got a chance of taking Elena.’ Terri looked into Chris’s face again. ‘Once I start doing that, he’s going to retaliate any way he can. You’re already on the list.’
Chris gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I’m only concerned that you won’t let me represent you. Unless you mean to handle this yourself.’
Terri shook her head. ‘I don’t know family law, and from what I hear, the judge in Alameda County hates parents in custody suits who represent themselves.’ Her voice softened. ‘I can’t do it, Chris, and neither can you. I don’t want you near this. For your sake and Elena’s.’
Eyes of a Child Page 4
