Liberating Paris

by Linda Bloodworth Thomason

  When Milan got her breath back, she said to Duff, “Just so you know, I’ve told Wood he’s free to do whatever he wants.”

  Duff was floored. She took this in, and then said, “Do you mean that?”

  “Yes.” They looked like two overwhelmed laundresses, their clothes heavy with water and suds. Milan said, “All I ask is that the two of you not do another thing to ruin this wedding.”

  Duff affected warmth, “That’s the last thing I want.”

  “Good. Now, I’m the mother of the bride and you’re the mother of the groom. We are going to get up and shake hands and show everybody that we can still make this work.”

  Milan stood up and extended her hand. Duff stood up and shook it. Some in the crowd applauded just as the water came back on. Realizing that the sprayer was too long for Milan to use on herself, she asked Mavis to do this for her. Then she stood ramrod straight, mustering as much dignity as she could while Mavis begrudgingly hosed down her front and backside. After that, Duff turned around and Mavis stepped closer to her, causing Duff to jump as the spray stung her legs. Mavis smiled. “Sorry. There’s just somethin’ about having your own wand.” Then emboldened, she made Milan jump, too. Milan glared at her, as some of the spray landed on baby Paris, who laughed.

  CHAPTER 23

  On Friday, the bride and groom arrived in Paris. Wood was so inconsolable by now that he told a patient she didn’t need a hysterectomy, when in fact, she did. But he simply wasn’t up to discussing it. He made a mental note that he would call her later and tell her he had made a mistake or that he was getting out of medicine completely and would give her a referral. Wood may have become an adulterer, but he had never been unprofessional. Now he couldn’t even seem to summon the stamina required for an ordinary workday, much less the kind of show-must-go-on energy that his wife was fairly famous for.

  He could only imagine the shameful scene that was now taking place across town in his own house. Even though Milan knew of his affair, he had never specifically admitted it. Until she had so poignantly stepped from the shower and told him that it was time for him to leave, they had coexisted with some sort of mutual “don’t ask, don’t tell” détente. But today, he felt sure, as close as Milan and Elizabeth were, there was no way his daughter could keep her terrible secrets to herself. Nor did he want her to be burdened alone with it. Well, maybe he did want that just a little.

  Wood hated thinking of all the things Duff might’ve written on the pages of her now infamous journal but a good number of the sexual positions and words that had been uttered in ecstasy while he was comprising one-half of those positions now ran through his mind. There was the “Excelsior Springs Can’t Get It Up Chilled Dick Dip” and the “Arkansas County Road Fuck Fest,” just to name a few. It was hideous. Unfathomable. As many times as he and Jeter and Brundidge had seen the movie Fatal Attraction and been terrified by it, that cautionary tale was nothing compared to this. Please! Let some snakyhaired, psychotic bitch come at him with a butcher knife! What a blessing that would be! He would give all his wealth just for the chance to wrestle such a creature around his own master bathroom, if that event could stand in place of this. Because this was hell on earth for adulterers. Who needs locust and plagues? This was hubris punished unparalleled, unlike any other he had come across on his own library shelves. Even William Shakespeare had not come up with this particular brand of male suffering. And it had all been brought about by a silly predictable mistake that could’ve been committed in any one of Milan’s bourgeois romance novels.

  As it turned out, Wood knew his daughter very well. She hadn’t intended to tell her mother about the journal at all. But whether it was from the stress of the wedding or the affair or both, as soon as Milan’s arms were around her firstborn, the tears came, flowing as effortlessly as the news of her father’s betrayal. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her mother. But the sun had always shone on Elizabeth McIlmore and, unlike Milan, she was unable to keep such things inside. However, she did have the maturity and foresight not to wound her mother with details. And for some reason, Milan didn’t press her for these things. It almost seemed to Elizabeth that her mother already knew.

  A few miles away, a DO NOT DISTURB sign had been placed on the door of an ordinary motel room. Inside, Kathleen Duffer was dealing with a drama of her own making, unlike any of the ones she had created in the past. Her son, who had set his suitcase down and was now standing a few feet from her, seemed to be waiting for an answer.

  Duff lit a cigarette and stretched her legs out. “I don’t know. He’s just someone I never got over. I suppose I was looking for something.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have been looking for it here. This was my deal.”

  She seemed unprepared for his harsh attitude. “Luke, I grew up here. This is where I’m from.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. So what are you claiming? Fucking rights?”

  She smacked him hard and lost her cigarette. He blinked, trying to comprehend her, while brushing the ashes from his face. She reached for him, apologizing, but he pushed her away with his hands and a profanity. She was on the floor now, saying how sorry she was and trying to find the lit cigarette.

  He said, as though he were finally resolving an old curiosity, “You know, Grandma and Grandpa are right. You do only think about yourself. They gave you everything and you just pissed it all away.”

  Finally, she retrieved the cigarette and snuffed it out in the cheap plastic ashtray. Then she got another one and lit it before she spoke.

  “I know you’re very angry at me right now. You have every right to be. But don’t let them use this to turn you into some Republican country club asshole. That’s not who you are.”

  “Yes, it is, Mother. If the fact that I like not getting my credit cards cut up and knowing where I’m gonna be living next month and that my mother is not gonna be screwing my future fatherin-law makes me a Republican country club asshole, then that’s exactly who I am.”

  She got up and crossed to the sliding glass door and stared out at the empty swimming pool.

  “I know it doesn’t look that way, but until now, everything I’ve done has been for you.”

  “That is such a lie. What did you do that was for me? Get knocked up by a loser who beat the hell out of both of us? All you do is make bad decisions.”

  Duff exhaled, put out her cigarette again, and gave up. “Okay, you want your pound of flesh? You can have it. You’re right. I’m a fuck-up and a loser.” She sat down on the bed and stared at the floor for a long time. Then, she said, “I’ve been trying for so long to get things together before you were old enough to figure out what a mess they were in.” She laughed a little. “I guess I lost that race, huh?”

  Luke sat down next to her. She turned toward him. “I know you can’t forgive me now, son. Or maybe ever. But I’ve worn that waitress uniform for a long time and you know a lot of worthwhile things because of me. And I don’t care what I’ve done, you can’t take that away. Because it’s a fact. And also because it’s all I have.”

  Then she looked away from the eyes that seemed to have finally decided about her.

  Elizabeth removed some bits of apple from her coat pocket and held her hand out to Sook, who licked it clean through the wooden bars of her stall. Then she walked over and leaned against the tack wall, next to Luke, who had been watching her. Neither spoke, but Elizabeth audibly took in the air, which was ripe with the smell of horses and wet straw. She was thinking that there was something comforting about a barn, which changes even less than a house. No one ever rearranged or recovered things here. She could come home and, here, it would always be the same.

  When she turned, she saw the outline of her father in the massive doorway. He looked around and then started walking toward them. Sook, sensing Wood’s presence, began to dance a little. Luke unfolded himself, as though he was getting ready for something and Elizabeth crossed her arms, calling out.

  “Daddy, I know why you’re here. Bu
t this is not something that can be fixed.”

  Wood took this in for a minute and then kept walking. “I just want to tell Luke, this wasn’t your mother’s idea. None of it. It was all my doing.”

  Luke crossed to Wood, took his fist, and knocked him down. Wood made no attempt to defend himself. He was momentarily stunned. Sook shook her head and blew gushes of air through her nostrils, as though she were disapproving of this unpleasantness. Wood got up and wiped the dirt from his face.

  “Okay. I’ll give you that one.”

  Luke started for the door.

  Wood called after him. “You know, it’d be hard to find a worse mess than this one. But it shouldn’t keep the two of you from doing whatever the hell you want.”

  Luke turned to Elizabeth, “I’ll call you later.”

  Wood went after Luke. “Listen, I took your punch. Now I’m asking you to sit down.”

  Luke thought about it, then walked to where there were several bales of hay and did so. Elizabeth joined him.

  “Thank you.” Wood sighed like a man who already knows the futility of his own words. “Now I know this is hard to understand. We’re dealing with an old situation here that’s got a lot of strong feelings in it. And Kathleen and Milan and I are not going to explain those feelings to the two of you. But, Luke, what I can do is promise you that it will never happen again. And Elizabeth, I promise you, that I will love and honor your mother for the rest of my life.”

  “Well, that’s great, Dad. Now maybe you can also tell us how we can have a wedding, or a baby, or, or…even a cup of coffee together, when we can’t even all be in the same room.”

  “I understand it’s gonna take some time.”

  Elizabeth stood up, losing her composure. “You just don’t get it, do you? You can’t make this okay. These are our mothers you’re messing with!”

  “All right, calm down.”

  “You ruined everything and for what? Some stupid piece of nostalgic ass.”

  Luke admonished her. “Shut up, Elizabeth.”

  “No, I won’t shut up. If it was more than that, then please tell us, Daddy. Because it must have been so wonderful that it was worth hurting my mother in such a cruel and humiliating way. It must’ve been the greatest piece of ass in the whole wide world.”

  Luke whipped her around. “Okay. That’s enough! Now stop it!” He threw his arms up and headed for the door. “I’m out of here.”

  Elizabeth and Wood watched him go. Then she turned away from her father, not in anger now, but simply wanting him to disappear.

  Wood tried again. “Baby—”

  She didn’t answer. He gently turned her toward him.

  “Listen to me. If you love that boy, then go on and marry him. And pray that if one of you screws up so bad and does the worst thing you’ve ever done, the other one will say, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Just come on home.” He put his eyes level with hers. “That’s what I want for you.”

  “No. That’s what you want for yourself. My God, you’re incredible. You think something like this can be forgiven?”

  He thought for a moment and then said, sadly, “No. But I have to believe it a little, if I’m gonna get up tomorrow.”

  She was crying now. Her nose was running and she brushed the sleeve of her sweatshirt across it.

  “I was just thinking how when I was a little girl…and you would have Uncle Brundy and Uncle Jeter over and you all would get drunk and carry on about these men that you loved so much, like Emerson and Tolstoy and Shakespeare.” She wiped the tears off her cheeks with both hands.

  “You said their names so often, and the way you said them, I actually thought that you were a friend of theirs.”

  His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, I did. But I just wanted to tell you, I’ve got it straight now. I don’t think that anymore.”

  He winced a little.

  The rehearsal dinner was still hours away. Elizabeth was lying in bed now, with her face half-buried in a thousand-thread-count pillowcase. Her antique French nightstand was littered with the paper wrappers of miniature Mr. Goodbars. Milan was stroking her daughter’s hair. After a while, Elizabeth said, “I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone before.”

  Milan’s hand went still for a moment, then, “Just remember, this is only one of the things your father’s done. He’s also come home every night for twenty years and given us a wonderful life together.”

  “You always give him a free pass.”

  Now Milan continued her stroking. “Honey, do you have any idea how hard he works down at that hospital? He’s got more patients than anyone in this town. And he never turns anybody away.”

  “That gives him the right to have an affair?”

  “No. But if we’re gonna count up the bad stuff, we’re gonna count up the good stuff, too.”

  Elizabeth raised up and looked at her mother, astonished. “You’re gonna take him back, aren’t you?”

  “I wish it were that easy.”

  Elizabeth lay back down. “Well, you go ahead. But I never will. Not only for this, but also for…” She was unable to finish.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know…not loving you the way you…deserve.”

  Milan tried to underplay this, the way parents do when confronted with the unsparing, dead-on observations of children.

  “That’s what you think?”

  Elizabeth wouldn’t look at her. “Yes. I’m sorry, but I’ve always thought it.”

  Milan lay down next to her. “Oh, Lils, I wish you could’ve seen us when we were first together. If I just walked in the room, your daddy couldn’t keep his mind on anything else. And when I was pregnant with you and Charlie, he was over the moon—”

  Elizabeth stopped her. “That was a long time ago.”

  “I know that. But things always come in cycles. It’s like your Grandpa Lanier. He was crazy. Then he was not crazy. You’re loved. You’re not loved. Everything comes around again. That’s just life.”

  Elizabeth took Milan’s hand and held it in both of hers. She had chocolate on her mouth. “Mother, that makes me so sad.”

  “What?

  “You’re happy just to remember love?”

  Milan thought for a moment, as she rubbed the chocolate off with her thumb. “It’s not sad. It’s…hopeful. I’m just a hopeful person. I always have been.” She shrugged, smiling at her daughter. “I guess it’s just a gift.”

  It seemed that everyone in Paris had an opinion as to whether the rehearsal dinner would go on, but it did, simply because no one stopped it from happening. It was as though the wedding cruise had sprung a leak, but until there was a complete damage assessment, no one was willing to tell the passengers that it was over. And so, a good seventy-five people, the ones who were the closest and dearest to the McIlmore and the Duffers, got dressed in their second-finest outfits—the finest having already been reserved for the social event of the year—and drove to the country club of Paris, where they dined on prime rib and roasted squab and praline soufflés and even though everyone, except strangely the Duffers, who arrived from Florida, had heard by now what was going on, they sat politely through dinner and all the required toasts.

  Duff and Wood astutely avoided each other as even she, by now, understood the gravity of their situation. When Wood rose to say his toast, he simply welcomed Luke to the family. Then he turned to Elizabeth. “When you were a little girl, I swam the Champanelle River with you on my shoulders.” He shook his head a little. “Sometimes its hard for a father to believe that his daughter doesn’t need those shoulders anymore. Or that there’s nothing much left for him to do but…stand in awe.” He picked up his glass, rubbing it. “Your mother and I, we had some dreams for a girl who hadn’t even put her hand in ours yet. Mostly, I guess…about the kind of person she might be. We never told you what they were. Because they seemed too much, overreaching, unfair.” Wood stopped, overcome. Finally, he raised his glass to
ward Elizabeth. “And then you went and surpassed them all.”

  A number of people were moved. But Wood’s daughter was not one of them. Brundidge buried his face in a napkin as Charlotte, who had come down for the wedding, attempted to comfort him. When Luke stood up, he avoided mentioning Wood altogether, but said something nice about the McIlmore family in general. Then he thanked his grandparents for being “the rock that I have always counted on.” And he, too, raised his glass toward his intended, saying that he had planned not to get married till he was thirty, but that falling in love with Elizabeth was like getting run over by a long, beautiful train.

  Everyone laughed so warmly and appreciatively that Milan, the one who was good at feeling hopeful, started to feel that way again. Started to feel that maybe this wedding could actually come off, after all. And then Luke finished his litany of superlatives regarding Elizabeth with one last thought. “But I guess what I like best about her is her complete openness toward life…this spirit of adventure. I don’t know exactly what you call it. I don’t have it myself. But I’ve seen it before, in another woman I love. My mother.”

  If he had been looking at Duff after he said this, he would’ve known that she had stood up and tried to acknowledge him by touching her heart. But he never looked her way and she, now embarrassed, had left. Milan, who knew the anger Luke was feeling toward his mother, was impressed. She had supported this puppy love in the hope that it could grow into something more. But here was her daughter’s fiancé indicating that he was already capable of more—that there was a part of him that was not just a boy, but was, in fact, a man. And even though her lifelong enemy was the recipient of this unexpected generosity, it made it no less meaningful. If a boy so young could express this kind of love and empathy and forgiveness, what would he be like in future years? Wood raised his eyebrows at Milan and both understood that they were sharing the same thought. For a brief moment, it united and bolstered them, just this lovely glimmer of what their daughter might be getting herself affiliated with.