Max was right. She was no better than him. Nor could she blame him for turning her into a cheater. She wasn’t being fair, holding Max to a standard that she herself had failed to live up to. She tried to imagine what would have happened if Gregorio had discovered her affair with Claudio Olona at the time. Wouldn’t she have deserved the opportunity to explain things? Wouldn’t she have begged for a second chance?
Another thought occurred to her: If she had sought certain things in other men, it was because she wasn’t getting them from Gregorio. By the same token, if Max was turning to another woman, it must mean that he wasn’t getting what he needed from Iris. It was just as she had always feared since the night of that first party in Rome. She wasn’t sexy enough, or wild enough, or successful enough to keep a man like him interested.
Max may have plenty of alternatives, but what about Iris? What men could she possibly meet around here, who could share her enthusiasm for living new experiences in new places? Who could make her laugh away the sadness of the past and dream away the boredom of routine? Could she perhaps go skinny-dipping under a full moon with a bank clerk? Could she ride bikes around the Circus Maximus in the pouring rain at three in the morning with an accountant or an engineer? Weren’t all men either Gregorios or Maxes?
You hold the power in your hands
To touch what most don't understand
So trust your heart, you'll know just what to do
Lift me up, I'm reaching out for you.
Iris rummaged through her pocket for a tissue to catch her dripping snot, but they were all soggy and shredded. She picked up a dust cloth and blew her nose into it. She had told Lily to trust her heart when she saw her little boys, and now Lily was telling her the same thing with her song.
Don't shed a tear for me, I don't need sympathy
I may bend, but I won't break
You'd be amazed what I can take
I have learned along the way
To find the beauty in each day
So until the wells of faith run dry
I will set my sights upon the sky
And whenever hope begins to fade
My spirit all but gone
I can feel the angels here on earth
Giving me the strength to carry on
Iris could feel the angel here on earth, too, speaking through Lily, encouraging her, supporting her. She must call Lily right away and tell her what a beautiful job she had done, tell her that the pain and suffering she had endured to record the song had not been in vain.
“Hello?” Lily said, picking up on the third ring.
“Hi, Lily! It’s me, Iris! I know it’s early over there. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Iris!” Lily cried. “Don't worry, I’m wide awake. In fact, I was just thinking about you, if you can believe it.”
“It must be telepathy!” Iris said. She walked with the cordless phone out onto the balcony. “I just found your note and the CD. I can’t believe you sneaked it into my bag!”
“I felt bad that I refused to let you play it that day, but I just couldn’t handle it,” Lily said. “I was kind of in a bad place.”
“I know, don’t worry,” Iris said, brushing away a stray sniffle with the back of her hand. “Anyway, I just listened to it. Your song really moved me. I couldn’t wait to tell you what a beautiful job you did.”
“Well, thanks, but all I can hear when I listen to it is the fear in my voice.”
“That’s funny, because to me you sound so positive, so full of hope.”
“Speaking of which,” Lily said. “Are you OK?”
“Sure, I’m fine,” Iris said, clearing her throat. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” Lily said. “You sound strange... different...”
“Maybe it’s the connection.”
“Yeah, that must be it - the connection.”
“Plus, I didn’t really get much sleep last night. We had a party.”
“A party?”
Iris scanned her brain for something positive to say about the horrendous evening without actually lying, but came up with nothing.
“Are you still there, Iris?”
“Sure, of course.”
“You know,” Lily said, her words fraught with reluctance, “I really feel like I have to tell you something.”
When they were little girls sharing the same bed, Lily could always tell when something was bothering her, or one of their big brothers had made her cry. Could she still pick up on that even now, even over the phone, even from thousands of miles away?
“I’ve always admired your ability to bounce back,” Lily continued, “And I can only imagine how hard it was for you to lose Auntie Rosa. I want you to know that I did appreciate your help and moral support that day when you came over, and it did make me feel better to have a nice clean house when the boys visited. It was an awful time for me, and you were trying so hard to be cheerful. I know I didn’t make that easy for you.”
“That’s OK, Lily,” Iris said. “I was glad to help.” That was good to know, and it was also good to know that Lily was blaming Auntie Rosa’s death for making her sound “strange”.
“But you couldn’t hide your sadness from me, Iris. And why should you? You don’t have to prove anything to me, or anyone else. You don’t always have to be all bubbles and champagne. Give yourself time to grieve. What was the big hurry to start throwing parties?”
Iris was struck with a vision of how dreadful she must appear to Lily’s eyes, breezing into town from her exotic island just hours before Auntie Rosa died, turning up at Lily’s with a bottle of champagne so soon after the funeral (and so soon after Lily’s drinking binge), then jetting back to Italy with her new diamonds when the drama was over, all ready to party it up.
“The party was actually Max’s idea.” she blurted out.
“Oh,” Lily said. “Well, I guess that was nice of him, to try and cheer you up. I’ll bet he just couldn’t stand to see you sad - no one who knows you can. All your friends were probably glad to have you back, too. You’re lucky to have them help you through your mourning.”
Right. That’s exactly what I told Bea, she wanted to say. Max couldn’t stand to see me sad. That’s why he never came home until yesterday. As for friends, of course there’s Bea, always good for a glassful of wine and an earful of advice I could live without. Or by “friends” do you mean that crass crowd of strangers who spent the night here, stuffing their faces and smoking and drinking? The ones whose vulgar, meaningless conversations about more people I don’t know made me feel like an outsider in my own home, while inside I was dying?
“Well, most of the guests he invited were TV people,” she said. That should end it.
“How exciting.” Lily’s voice sounded anything but excited. “Are you on close terms with them?”
“Not really. They all work in Milan. Max is trying to get a foot in the door with them, feel out their interest for that project I was telling you about.”
Iris waited for Lily to comment, but all she heard was some background static and then a cough.
“You know, the film project.” Iris could hear her own voice bouncing back over the line, her own words echoing tinnily in the earpiece. The connection seemed to be getting worse.
“Right. I remember you mentioning that.” Lily said.
Lily wasn’t really holding up her end of the conversation. But if Iris didn’t want to talk about the friends she didn’t have, maybe Lily didn’t want to hear about a bunch of TV people. Maybe it resuscitated her regrets about not having pursued a performing career. Lily was probably irked that Iris, and not she, was hobnobbing with show people. Iris was tactful enough to avoid mentioning certain subjects, but what was she supposed to do, if Lily kept badgering her?
“Anyway, everyone was having such a great time, I thought they would never leave. But to be honest, I was glad when they did,” Iris spoke quickly, hoping Lily would finally let it drop.
“Why? Weren’t you hav
ing fun?”
Lily’s insistence on hearing about the party was really starting to confuse her. Now that things were finally patched up between them, it could be that she was making an effort at some casual conversation, trying to show a sincere interest in Iris’s daily life. But on the other hand, maybe she wanted to hear how marvelous it was, just to feed her old resentments and make Iris feel guilty about the life she led. If they were to ever get over that, Lily would have to realize that it wasn’t all about the glamour and glitter, and that Iris did not spend her time at parties just standing there and looking pretty in her diamonds while liveried waiters kept her flute filled with champagne. Especially not last night’s party.
“Well, it was late when they left, and I was exhausted from all the cooking and setting up,” she said, immediately concerned that now it might sound like she was complaining. It was easy to get the wrong idea over the phone, especially with the static on the line complicating matters. “Not that I minded,” she added. “You know how I’ve always loved to cook.”
“And where was Max all this time when you were cooking and running around?”
“Oh, he was busy, too, out buying supplies - wine and candles and all those things.” Iris recalled those hours home alone, plagued by the pulsating presence of Max’s secret cell phone. She stepped out from under the awning and into a ray of sunshine, hoping it would chase away a sudden shiver. “He was also helping out a friend of his he invited to spend the night.”
“Is his friend a good house guest, or is he one of those guys who leaves the toilet seat up?” Lily said. It came as no surprise to Iris that she and Lily shared the same preoccupation with men’s treatment of toilets. What woman wouldn’t, after growing up with so many brothers?
“Well, actually, it was a she,” Iris said.
There was a moment of silence broken only by an annoying crackling sound, before Lily spoke.
“He had a female friend stay overnight at your house?”
“Sure, we have people stay over a lot,” Iris said. “She and Max are old friends.” Lily would never understand the intricacies of certain types of male-female relationships. How could she, if she had never experienced or been exposed to them? Still, Iris felt compelled to offer some sort of explanation. “She was the one who contacted all those people, just to help Max out. She works with them.”
“Are you telling me that she invited all those people to your house and then she and Max left while you did all the work?”
“Well, Max manned the grill all night.”
Iris glanced at the grill, still full of ash and half-burnt rubbish, still full of images of Max’s face flickering in the flames as she fought back tears of hurt and anger. She walked from the balcony and into the living room, pacing the floor, wondering why Lily refused to just let it go.
“Let’s not talk about her anymore, OK? Anyway, she’s gone already.”
“Oh, that’s good. I hope she helped clean up first.” Lily said. “So now it’s just you and Max?”
“More or less,” Iris swallowed. She was good at sifting out information she did not want to share, but lying was another story altogether. Especially to Lily.
“More or less,” Lily repeated. “So either there are more people than just the two of you, meaning you still have guests, or less people that the two of you, meaning you’re alone. Which is it?”
Iris collapsed on the sofa, exhausted. All these questions were wearing her down. Maybe she should just hang up and go to sleep. Or maybe she should talk to her sister. Wasn’t that why she had called?
“No, it’s just me. Max is gone too.”
“What do you mean, Max is gone?”
“We had a little difference of opinion,” she said. Given Lily’s history with Joe, Iris hoped she wouldn’t blow things all out of proportion. “It was no big deal.”
“He left because you had a difference of opinion?”
“It was late, we were both tired,” she said. “It was just one of those things. We’ll work it out.”
“So you two had a fight?”
“It wasn’t a fight. We never fight.”
“Why can’t you just call it what it is, Iris?”
“You call it what you want to, Lily. Whatever makes you happy. But I was here, and you weren’t, OK? And he wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t asked him to. I needed some time to think, you know? I needed to make some sense out of certain things that were bothering me before we both said things we might regret.”
“You mean you kicked him out? Wow - what did he do?”
“I didn’t kick him out.” Iris stood up again and resumed her pacing, trying not to step on the cracks between the tiles as she walked back and forth, wondering why Lily, who had spent her entire married life skirting the issues and making excuses, was suddenly so interested in spelling things out.
“He pissed you off so bad that you had a fight and then you asked him to leave, right? That’s kicking him out.”
“He got mad because I was criticizing certain things that he had done,” Iris gesticulated with her free hand as she spoke, as if it could help get the idea across to Lily, who didn’t seem to be understanding anything. “And then he pointed out that maybe I wasn’t really one to judge, and then...”
“You keep talking about ‘certain things’ - what certain things?”
“It doesn’t matter, really. It’ll be OK.”
There was no sense getting into the whole story; it would just give Lily an even worse impression of Max, and prompt her to grill her with more questions.
“Why don’t you let me tell you why I called?” Iris said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “That will explain everything.”
“I’m listening.”
“Well, I wanted to say that after our disagreement last night, that song of yours really helped me sort out my thoughts.”
“How did it help you do that?” Lily’s voice finally sounded calmer, more reasonable. Now if only Iris could recall what she had wanted to say before Lily’s line of questioning befuddled her thoughts.
“It made me realize that I need to keep reaching out to Max, even though sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes he says or does things he doesn’t mean. I always have to remember he doesn’t see things the same way I do, because he doesn’t have the same background as I do. And he’s actually very fragile, because of what happened to him as a child. He relies on my strength. He looks to me for certain qualities he doesn’t possess.” Iris paused, doubting her answer was specific enough for Lily. “You see, I thought I was giving him everything he needed, but I realized I may be wrong. I think I have to take an honest look at myself, and give a little bit more if I really want it to work.”
Why did all those things that she had been thinking in the privacy of her own head now sound like they were spewing from the mouth of an idiot?
“And that’s what you got out of my song?” The edge was already back in Lily’s voice.
“Yes, you know when you sing about the need to reach out, and lift up?” she said. She’d need to concentrate to get this right. “Of course, I do my best to lift Max up when he’s depressed. But I know it has to go beyond that. If I try harder, I know I can lift him up to a higher level - to a level where he can reach out and touch those dreams of his.” Iris felt the heat climbing up her neck and into her cheeks as she walked from the living room to the kitchen, then back out onto the balcony. “You know, like the film project, for example.”
“I don’t know what you’re smoking over there, Iris, but that is not what that song is about,” Lily snapped. “That song is about redemption, about leaving an old self behind, about finding the courage and the faith to reach beyond the limitations we put on ourselves, the chains that weigh us down.”
Iris was thrown off balance by the reproach in Lily’s voice. Lily had always been the one to take her cue from Iris, and now here she was, suddenly telling her what to think.
“Well, that may be your version, but if that’
s the message I got, it must be in there,” Iris said. “You can’t really believe that the creators of any song, any story, any painting or other work of art get to dictate how it is interpreted. Each artist follows his or her own inspiration, but once the work is out there, everyone will see different things in it. To sum it up in a nutshell: Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”
That was one of Auntie Rosa’s favorite adages, but even in her muddle-headed state Iris realized it had nothing to do with what she was saying. Fine, maybe it would confound Lily, too, and make her relent long enough for Iris to collect her thoughts. She took a deep breath, and continued, “What I wanted to say, is that your song helped me see some things.”
“When I wrote those lyrics, I didn’t even really understand them completely - not the way I do now. You are totally twisting the meaning around. And yes, I do get to say what the lyrics mean - and especially what they don’t mean - because I wrote them. And I will not let you use that song to make excuses for Max.”
“Why do you think Max needs anyone to make excuses for him?”
“He doesn’t - not as long as you’re around. You are already doing it all the time. From what you’ve told me, you quit your job, you travel all over the place taking care of him. He brings a woman to sleep over at your house, invites a bunch of people over for you to cook for - that makes me crazy! You keep telling me how much he needs you, how exceptional he is, how tortured. You talk about being Max’s strength, taking responsibility for his dreams... I hate to tell you, but every one of the women in my support group at the shelter said those same kinds of things about their abusers. Hell, I used to say the same things about Joe.”
“What are you talking about? What does that have to do with me?”
The Complete Series Page 140
