by P. D. Cacek
Sausages and coffee, both of which required only the use of such modern marvels as the microwave oven and a Programmable 12-Cup Combination Brew-Right and Warmer, were two other foods Elisabeth felt most comfortable preparing.
She would not starve.
While they ate, Lillian and Bob spoke to each other and to her. It was another custom Elisabeth was having trouble getting used to, although it seemed – and was confirmed repeatedly on various television programs – that speaking while you ate was the norm.
Her mother, God rest her, had never allowed speaking at the table and thought it the height of vulgarity. If one had to have discourse when food was involved, her mother believed it was only suitable during garden parties and only if asked a direct question by the hostess.
But, as so many continually reminded her, that was then and this was now – an odd idiom, but a useful one.
Setting her fork down on the plate, Elisabeth cleared her throat.
Sara’s parents looked up.
“Bob, Lillian,” she began, “I will never be able to express my gratitude to both of you for the kindness and understanding you have shown me in what must certainly be the darkest time of your lives.”
Bob nodded and lifted his coffee cup to his lips, but not quick enough to hide the slight quiver that betrayed his feelings.
“It’s been a blessing for us,” Lillian said. “You’ve made it easier.”
“Thank you, but I fear that might be very kind, but wholly untrue. I am not Sara.”
Lillian’s eyes moistened. Bob set down his cup and took her hand.
“No, of course you’re not,” he said. “We know that, Elisabeth.”
“But as long as I remain here, with you, you’ll not be able to mourn your daughter.”
Elisabeth watched something besides tears fill Lillian’s eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“I think it will be best if I find…other accommodations. Thanks to you, I can – ”
“You can’t leave.”
“ – provide for myself and have learned a good many skills I never had before. I can cook and – ”
“Elisabeth, be sensible.”
“ – even use the electrified washing and drying machines. And I’m sure I will be able to find some kind of employment even with my limited—”
“You can’t leave!”
Lillian had shaken free from her husband’s hand and had gotten to her feet.
“Lillian,” Elisabeth said as gently as possible, “it’s time. Please try to understand I’m only considering what is best for you and Bob. And Emily. She needs—”
“You can’t go, it will be like losing Sara all over again. Please, not yet, just give us a little more time.”
“Maybe she’s right, Lil,” Bob said, taking his wife’s hand again. “Maybe it would be better if she did—”
Lillian turned and left the room. There were neither hysterics nor muffled sobs echoing back through the house, only a silence that was worse than either. And they sat at the table in that silence, she and Bob, until it became too hard to bear.
“I’m truly sorry, Bob,” Elisabeth said, “but I do think my presence here is doing more harm than good.”
He nodded, taking up his cup again for solace and staring into it.
“Maybe.” He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. This is new ground for all of us. We knew Sara was going to die, be taken off the respirator after Emily was born. There was no hope, so when she…when you woke up it was a miracle for us as much as for you.”
Elisabeth picked up her own teacup to hide behind, not daring to meet his eyes should he see the truth in them.
“But you aren’t Sara and I understand how you must feel. We’ll manage, but what about Emily?”
The cup trembled in Elisabeth’s hand. “Emily’s a baby, she doesn’t know who I am.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. She smiles every time she sees you.”
“She smiles when she sees a beam of sunlight, Bob. I’m just another person for her to enchant. I’m not her mother.”
“Maybe not in the usual way, but I’ve seen you with her. You love her as if you were her mother.”
Elisabeth felt her throat tighten as she set the cup back into its saucer and stood up.
“But I am not and never will be. I had better see to the washing up. I believe that I may have used every bowl and pan in the house. Excuse me, please.”
Turning, she left Bob to finish his meal. She would reintroduce the subject again at a later date, when emotions – hers included – were not running so high.
That evening when Daniel arrived with Emily an hour before supper, Elisabeth was reading in the family room, as was her habit in order to give Sara’s family time alone with each other.
“Danny, talk some sense into her!”
Elisabeth put down her book, a romantic novel her mother would have banned from the house, and turned her head, listening, but all she heard were muffled voices – Lillian’s for the most part, but counterpointed with Bob’s deeper baritone. Of Daniel she heard very little.
It was only when Emily, her voice sweet and high, began to complain, that the voices stopped and Elisabeth put down her book.
Elisabeth found them still in the entrance hall, talking quietly now. Lillian was clutching a white tissue, a corner of which she kept touching to her eyes as Bob held her about the waist. Daniel held Emily against his shoulder, patting her back to calm her fussing.
None of them saw Elisabeth as she entered the hall, except Emily.
Squealing, the babe held out her hands to her.
“Looks like somebody’s happy to see you, Elisabeth,” Bob said, smiling. “She missed her mommy.”
Oh, God.
A silence as thick as wool descended as they stood in the foyer of Sara’s childhood home, and it was only Emily’s contented cooing that proved they had not suddenly gone deaf or been transformed into wax statues.
“Oh God, Danny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay, Bob,” Daniel said, “I know what you meant.”
Of course he did. Elisabeth kept her eyes down so she wouldn’t see Emily reach for her again as she walked to the staircase and began to ascend.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you for dinner tonight. I’m not very hungry, but please go in and have your supper.”
“Danny.” Lillian’s voice rose behind her. “Talk to her.”
“Elisabeth, look…they told me what you said this morning and I’m—”
Shaking her head, Elisabeth continued up the stairs. “There is no need, Daniel. Good night.”
Emily began crying and it was that sound that accompanied Elisabeth all the way to her room. And not even closing the door and leaning back against it could diminish the sound.
It is better this way, better for all of them. Emily will grow up without confusion, and Sara’s parents will be able to grieve for their child and finally lay her to rest, and Daniel…Daniel will fall in love and remarry and—
A soft knock sounded at her door, vibrating through her spine.
“Yes?”
“It’s Danny…can I come in?”
It was all she could do to keep herself from correcting him – May I come in – as she stepped to the center of the room and turned. If nothing else, her upbringing had prepared her well for situations where she was expected to act like a lady of society, composed and serene, trained in the art of burying her emotions regardless of how she actually felt.
That training had failed her once before, when she thought her friend in danger, and she had paid the ultimate price for it.
“Yes,” she called, and her voice was calm and steady, “of course you may.”
He opened the door slowly and stepped into t
he room, closing the door behind him. It was improper, but she refrained from saying so since he stayed by the door and didn’t move toward her.
“Lillian told me that you want to leave.”
“Yes, I think it best.”
“She told me that too, and the reason you gave her.”
Elisabeth nodded.
“Is it because of me?”
“You?”
He walked past her to the bed and sat down. A similar, though less repugnant, warm sensation fluttered in the pit of her stomach.
“Yeah. I wasn’t…haven’t been very nice to you. It’s just—”
“Please.” She took a step closer to him. “You don’t need to explain, Daniel. I know how hard this is for you and I am so sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? You haven’t done anything.”
“I took Sara’s place.”
“No, you didn’t. Sara wasn’t ever coming back. I know I shouldn’t have, but I blamed you for that because I had to blame someone.”
“I understand.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Thank you.”
“I think Sara would have liked you.”
Elisabeth clasped her hands in front of her and squeezed her fingers together until she could feel Sara’s heartbeat in them.
“You don’t have to go.”
“Yes, I do.”
He stood up and walked toward her. “Why?”
Why? “Dear God, I understand that society has changed but is every member of it incapable of understanding the simplest construct of communication? I am leaving because I am not Sara, I’m not your wife or Emily’s mother. I am…but a living automaton, a breathing memento mori.”
“But Emily will miss you.”
Elisabeth took a deep breath.
“It is for Emily’s sake most that I must leave. If I stay it will only confuse her and…and make me into something I am not. It will be better for Emily that I leave now while she is still a baby. She will easily forget me and, in time, it will be as if I was never a part of her life.”
Which I never was intended to be.
“Do you want that?”
“Do I…? No, but—”
“Look, I know you’re not Sara…all of us know that, but you’re good with Emily. Both my mom and Lillian have told me how you take care of her, feed her when I’m not here…and how you’re the first one to go to her when she cries at night.”
“My room is the closest to hers,” Elisabeth explained. “It is simply a matter of location.”
“Oh, come on, you know that’s not it.” Daniel took another step closer. There was very little space between them now. If Elisabeth could have moved she would have fled the room. “You love Emily, don’t you?”
“Love is such an easy word in this society. People love without thought or contemplation.”
“Answer the question.”
“It wouldn’t change my decision either way.”
“Answer the question.”
She glared up at him. “It doesn’t matter.”
He glared back at her. “Answer the question.”
Elisabeth felt Sara’s eyes whelm with tears, but she was the one who blinked them away. “Yes.”
He smiled in victory and Elisabeth wished he were closer so she could strike it from his lips.
“Yes, laughable, isn’t it, that I should love the child of the man who wishes I were dead?”
The smile fell.
“Do you deny it, Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
They held each other’s gaze for a moment before he looked away. “Okay, I did, but not anymore. When it first happened, well, you know better than all of us, I guess. Things happen for a reason, Elisabeth, I have to believe that or I’d go crazy. Sara was so happy when she got pregnant. All she talked about was the baby and thinking up silly names we’d never use.” He laughed and the sound broke Elisabeth’s heart. “She couldn’t wait to be a mom, but then when that wasn’t going to happen I think…I like to think that maybe she helped make sure Emily would have a mom even if it wasn’t her.”
Elisabeth nodded even though he wasn’t looking at her.
“That is a very lovely sentiment, Daniel, but the harder truth is that when I leave, Emily will forget me and you will be free to marry again and give Emily the mother she deserves.”
He stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, yes, I suppose I can, but, you see, we’re still married.”
Elisabeth backed up until her spine found the doorframe.
“We most certainly are not!”
Daniel lowered his hand. “Yeah, we are…legally. You haven’t changed your name yet or gotten a new social security card, so…you’re still Sara Cortland on paper. And we’re still married. I mean, I’m still married to Sara Cortland.”
He slid both his hands into the back pockets of his pants and shrugged. Taking a deep breath, Elisabeth straightened her back and uttered words she never would have thought she’d be obliged to say.
“If that is the case, then divorce me.”
“What?”
“Divorce me so that you will be free to marry someone else. It seems that is the most common thing to do, isn’t it?”
“Well, I guess.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
“Or….”
“Or?”
“We stay married and you move back to our…my house and be Emily’s mother.”
“And be your whore?” She hoped the disbelief and incredulity clearly showed on her face. “How dare you suggest—”
Daniel pulled his hands from his pockets and waved them as if he were trying to stop a runaway coach. “Wait a minute! I’m not suggesting anything like that. Look, I just want Emily to have a mother and father and you’re the only mother she knows. She lived inside…that body for almost nine months and I don’t want her to forget it…or the only person she thinks of as her mother. If you’ll just consider this arrangement, for Emily’s sake, I swear I won’t touch you or bother you in any way. You’ll have your own room and I’ll have mine, and Emily will have the family Sara wanted for her.”
Elisabeth walked to the bed and sat down on the bed. How could he suggest such a thing and not expect her to revile him for it? She was not Sara Cortland, regardless of what it said on certain government documents, and if she ever hoped to make a new life for herself as Elisabeth Wyman in some town and state where no one knew who or what she was, she had to leave.
She had to.
Daniel walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. “Please, don’t cry.”
“Cry?” Elisabeth would have been shocked at the audacity of such an assumption had her voice not broken on that single word. “I— I am not crying.”
“But you’re about to.” He touched a spot beneath his right eye. “Sara’s… Her cheek always got red, right here, just before she started to cry.” He dropped his hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you something like that.”
Elisabeth took a deep breath and released it so slowly that by the time the air had run out, her lungs burned.
“No,” she said, “you shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My parents, when my father was alive, that is, had separate rooms. Children understand more than you think, Daniel. My brother and I knew there was no love between them.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was and I think that helped make me hard and untrusting and…and terribly frightened of life. I don’t want that to happen to Emily. Emily must never have reason to question that her parents are not bonded as one.”
He looked confused. “Okay.”
“Therefore, and in deference to your suggestion, I propose this slight modifi
cation.” Her heart…Sara’s heart…their heart began to beat so fiercely that she feared it would break through the skin. “I know this is a rather brazen and possibly shocking proposal and I know that if my own mother were alive it might possibly kill her, but I suggest that, for the sake of Emily and nothing else, we marry and live under one roof as a man and wife should.”
She had no expectation of what he might say next, and so was pleased when he remained silent and only laid his hand upon hers.
Would that he had remained silent.
“That would be great,” he whispered, moving closer, “but we are already married, remember?”
She pushed him away.
“No, Daniel, we are not, but I’m sure you can arrange something…after a moderate courtship, of course.”
“Courtship?”
Elisabeth blinked her eyes slowly. “We hardly know each other, do we not?”
“Um…I guess.”
“Well, perhaps a brief courtship might be advisable, considering the uniqueness of our situation. And a small, private ceremony to follow, I think.”
Daniel stood up and offered her his arm, which she took.
“Sounds like a plan, although I think we’re going to have to call it a renewal of vows, but don’t worry, it’ll be legal. And, maybe, we can even use your name, Elisabeth, and say it’s… I don’t know, we’ll figure that out.” He walked her halfway to the door and let her arm drop. “And I won’t push you to do anything…you know, until you’re ready. You’re right about one thing, we really don’t know each other, so if you’re never ready to, you know, that’s okay too.”
Elisabeth understood what he was willing to give up for her and Emily. “Thank you, Daniel.”
“You’re welcome…Elisabeth.”
* * *
Two weeks later, after a very abbreviated courtship and in front of a small gathering of friends and family, Daniel Allen Cortland and Sara Elisabeth Wyman Cortland renewed their marriage vows on a bright and chilly October afternoon.
Emily Sara Cortland, dressed in a burgundy velvet gown and matching bonnet, served as both flower girl and maid of honor.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aryeh
“Hello?”
