Forms of Devotion

by Diane Schoemperlen

  All her life Grace had been told she was lucky. She was told this by her parents, who were obviously proud, and by her friends, who were secretly envious. She was even occasionally told this by total strangers on the bus. Grace knew they were right. Sometimes she would stand naked in front of her full-length mirror and examine herself in detail. She could stand there for an hour or more, counting her blessings. This was not so much vanity as a need to remind and reassure herself of her many assets.

  Not surprisingly, young men swarmed around her like sticky-footed flies. For a while Grace enjoyed this very much. She was a romantic young woman who fell in and out of love easily and often. She was certain that someday her prince would come, but in the meantime, not one of these relationships lasted very long. Grace was every bit as discriminating as she was beautiful. Much as each of these many suitors showed great promise in that initial flush of infatuation, soon enough they would reveal their true colors. Soon enough Grace would discover that the current object of her affections was not the man of her dreams after all. Soon enough she would have to admit that he was too moody, too irresponsible, too insensitive, too egotistical, too domineering, or just plain dumb.

  There was one young man who, when she told him she didn’t love him after all, threw himself at her dainty feet, clung to her pretty ankles, and swore he loved her so much that he would drown himself in her bathwater if she dumped him. But he was also the one who frequently advanced the opinion that a beautiful woman could not be expected to have a brain as well. And so Grace cast him away too, adding yet another broken heart to the growing trail behind her.

  Just when Grace was beginning to despair of ever meeting Mr. Right, Cupid finally found her. After all those romantic misadventures, Grace had become, understandably, a little skittish about the whole notion of love. She was more cautious now, less willing to be swept off her feet, a little cynical perhaps, not quite so ready to offer her heart this time around. She had finally realized that most of her previous suitors had been not so much interested in her heart anyway, but rather in the generous but not floppy breasts that concealed it.

  But this young man was not like the others. His name was William and he was gentle, sensitive, even-tempered, and intelligent. Although he was obviously well aware of her beauty, he was not obsessed with it and he made it clear that he loved her as much for her mind as anything else. William respected her opinions and was able to admit when he was wrong. He sent her flowers for no reason and took her to romantic movies at which he was not embarrassed to cry when necessary. Grace was very impressed. It did not hurt that William was also very handsome with broad shoulders, a hairless well-muscled torso, a strong jawline, a nice straight nose, and large dark eyes not unlike Grace’s own. He also had a good job with a promising future. He was an accountant with a large respected firm and had already been promoted three times in the last two years. But still Grace held back. She was too afraid of being disappointed again. William was persistent, but never pushy. He said he understood her reluctance. He said he had all the time in the world to prove that he deserved her love.

  After a year of his patient courtship, Grace had to admit that William was everything he seemed to be, everything she had ever dreamed of. Finally Cupid gave her one last push. Grace saw the light and surrendered. All along everyone had said they were the perfect couple and now Grace realized they were right. William got down on his knees and gave her a big diamond ring. Grace wept with happiness. Her parents were even more obviously proud and her friends were secretly even more envious.

  Grace and William began to plan their future together.

  The wedding took place six months later at the end of May. As a bride, Grace was more beautiful than ever. She wore a traditional white satin gown with a four-foot train and long full white lace sleeves. In her hair she wore a crown of pink and white sweetheart roses from which a floor-length gossamer veil cascaded all around her. The gown was cut low in the back to a big white bow at her tiny waist. At the wedding ceremony, only one of Grace’s friends let envy get the better of her. Upon seeing the white gown, this young woman could be overheard to whisper snidely, “Who is she trying to kid?”

  The groom wore a custom-made black morning suit with a black satin cummerbund, a pleated white silk shirt, and a white bow tie. Even the old priest who performed the ceremony and bestowed his blessing upon them said he had never seen a more beautiful couple.

  Grace’s mother wept and her father nodded happily as their daughter signed the marriage register with trembling hands. Williams parents were equally pleased.

  After the ceremony, the newlyweds and their guests ate, drank, and danced for hours. Then Grace and William changed into their traveling clothes and took a rented limousine to the airport. They flew to Paris for their honeymoon. What could be more romantic than Paris in the springtime?

  A week later they returned and embarked upon the unparalleled adventure of married life.

  In the first year of their marriage, Grace and William made love almost every night and were very busy doing many other interesting things. They were always going to movies, concerts, ball games, and parties. Every Saturday night they went out for dinner. They each had many friends to begin with and now, being such an interesting, amusing, and attractive couple, they made even more. Their phone was always ringing and their calendar was always full.

  But after a year or so, they grew tired of this endless social whirl. They were also tired of renting and so they, like many of their friends, bought a large old house and began to spend all their time and money renovating and redecorating. They did most of the work themselves, as was the custom in their circle. Sometimes their friends came over to help.

  They learned how to replaster cracked walls, reset crooked windows, refinish hardwood floors, and build simple cabinets and shelves. They scoured antique markets and dragged home battered dressers, desks, and china cabinets which they then lovingly restored to their former beauty. They learned how to hang wallpaper, lay carpet, and perform minor plumbing miracles.

  Each night, after another long day of sanding, painting, hammering, and sawing, they would fall into bed exhausted but proud, as their dream home slowly took shape around them.

  Of all their home improvement achievements, Grace and William were most proud of the kitchen.

  Having agreed that the kitchen was the natural nucleus of any happy home, they spared no expense on its refurbishment. William had recently received yet another promotion so they could afford to go all out. Finally, after weeks of hard work and serious shopping, the kitchen was done, completely reconstructed from floor to ceiling and abundantly outfitted with all the most efficient and attractive accoutrements. Grace and William stood arm in arm in the doorway and admired their creation.

  On the large oak table in the center of the room, a white linen cloth glowed, a set of stainless steel bone-handled butcher knives gleamed, and two white antique bowls waited to be filled with finger-licking delicacies and mouthwatering delights. The counter against the right wall was a solid slab of maple two inches thick. There was a complete set of wooden mixing bowls arranged in a tall vertical cast-iron rack, a rare find at an antique market north of the city.

  On the back wall there were two built-in ovens, a chalk message board, a brass and mahogany antique clock, and a built-in refrigerator with wooden doors. A second iron rack held five cooking pots of various sizes. A set of copper utensils hung on the wall just below the large casement window through which the sun streamed all afternoon.

  The showpiece of the kitchen was a huge cast-iron stove which had been converted to gas. This stove weighed over two thousand pounds and bringing it into the kitchen had required a forklift and six strong men.

  The floor, which had of course been reinforced under the stove, was covered in large black and white square tiles. Although the occasion of laying these tiles had involved much cursing and swearing and many mistakes, Grace and William agreed now that it had all been worth it.

>   Grace made a pot of tea and they sat together in their beautiful kitchen until the sun went down, imagining all the wonderful meals they would prepare here, all the Christmases and birthdays they would celebrate, and in their minds, the future spread out before them like a smorgasbord, a veritable banquet of as yet untasted pleasures, piquant and sweet.

  Once the house was finished, there was not much for Grace to do all day while William was away at work. She quickly found that only so much time could be filled with cleaning and rearranging and admiring the splendid contents of the house. She thought about getting a job. But what was the point of having such a beautiful home if it was just going to sit empty all day? She talked it over with William and they decided it was time to start a family.

  A year later, after an easy pregnancy without morning sickness, heartburn, or hemorrhoids, Grace gave birth to their first child, a boy. They named him Charles. Grace had never known such pure happiness as that which she felt when rocking Charles in her arms and holding him to her milk-filled breasts.

  The care and feeding of little Charles consumed her days, and often her nights as well. Grace seldom had time anymore to stare at herself in the mirror, but if she had, she would have seen that her beautiful face looked tired now, puffy around the eyes, pale in the cheeks, a little drawn at the mouth. If William noticed these changes in his beautiful bride, he wisely made no comment except to say he liked the way she was wearing her hair these days, longer and loose. The truth was Grace had no time to wash and style it every morning like she used to, no time to go to the hairdresser for her monthly trim.

  Grace was a careful new mother. When she wasn’t tending to Charles, she was reading books about infant care and development and how to increase your child’s self-esteem. She often read these books late into the night with the bedside lamp glowing warmly beside her and the baby nestled in her arms. Charles was not a good sleeper and Grace could not bear to let him cry alone in his crib. So she often brought him into their bed and tucked him in beside her, which many of the parenting books said was the only healthy thing to do. Then William, who had to get up for work in the morning, would take some extra blankets and go and sleep on the couch. He said he didn’t mind. He said he knew their lives would get back to normal again someday soon.

  Little Charles thrived and grew strong and soon he was a healthy lively toddler. Grace wondered where the time had gone. Charles was walking, talking, and getting into mischief just like a two-year-old was supposed to. Much as Grace adored him, she missed having a little baby to snuggle. She talked it over with William and soon she was pregnant again. After another easy pregnancy, she gave birth to their second child, a girl this time. They named her Sarah.

  Again Grace found herself looking tired and drawn, knee-deep in diapers, breast milk, and parenting books. Looking after two small children proved to be much harder than looking after one. They fussed and whined and drove her crazy with demands all day long. But as soon as William came home from work, they were all sweetness and smiles, Sarah making cute baby gooing sounds and Charles trailing his father around like a puppy dog. Grace could not help but resent this. Were the children, she wondered, sucking the life out of her on purpose or did it just happen that way? She couldn’t very well tell William how she felt. Charles and Sarah were the equal apples of their father’s eye.

  William, as well as being an excellent provider, was also a wonderful father. He was not one of those old-fashioned men who thought looking after children was woman’s work. He was a modern, sensitive, hands-on father who fed and bathed his children, read them stories, played peekaboo and patty-cake with genuine delight, and changed their dirty diapers without gagging.

  On sunny Sunday afternoons William would put Sarah up on his shoulders, take Charles by the hand, and off they would go to the park. Often the neighbors’ children tagged along too. Their fathers, they each told him, were too busy, too grouchy, or too tired to play with them. They all adored William and wished their own fathers were just like him.

  At the park William and the children played long laughing games of catch, tag, and hide-and-go-seek. William never seemed to tire of pushing them on the swings, catching them at the bottom of the big silver slide, or simply chasing them around while growling like a ferocious bug-eyed monster.

  Back at home alone, Grace thought about all the things she could be doing while they were gone: constructive, creative, grown-up things. But usually she did the laundry, the dishes, or the vacuuming. Sometimes she talked on the phone to her mother. Most often she went upstairs to the cool empty bedroom and had a nap. When William and the children tumbled back into the house, boisterous and smelling of sunshine and trees, she had to drag herself up from the uneasy depths of her afternoon dreams. And then, sometimes, just for a minute, she could not remember who they were.

  Although many of Graces days at home with the children seemed never-ending, paradoxically the years themselves passed quickly. Soon both Charles and Sarah were in school. They were bright, well-behaved children, popular with both their teachers and their peers. Grace was very proud of them. William was still a wonderful father who often helped the children with their homework and never missed a school concert or parent-teacher interview. He was now a full partner in his firm and his annual salary was impressive. They could afford to buy whatever they wanted. Even around the house Grace wore designer dresses in all the latest styles. She was back in the habit now of having her hair done at least once a month. Sometimes she had a manicure and a pedicure too. William often told her she was even more beautiful now than shed been when they first met. He said, “You’re not getting older, you’re getting better.” He still bought her flowers for no reason, also perfume, jewelry, and other pretty trinkets, tokens of his undying esteem. They made love often and well. William was never unfaithful.

  Their home continued to be a source of great pride. Whenever Grace felt a little bored with it, she bought a new carpet, new dining room chairs, new drapes, or new artwork for the walls. These acquisitions always made her happy for a while.

  Now that the children were in school all day, there was really no reason for Grace to stay home but she did. She thought about getting a job. She wanted to do something but she wasn’t sure what. She knew William would be supportive whatever she decided to do. She kept meaning to make a decision but somehow the days just got away on her. There was still so much to do. The children needed to be driven to and from school, to the dentist, the doctor, dance class, piano lessons, swimming, ceramics, gymnastics, and to the houses of their many friends. She had many hobbies that kept her busy too: embroidery, gardening, reading, and dried flower arranging. At last she had both the time and the energy to prepare those fabulous meals she and William had dreamed of so long ago. Besides, she was used to staying home. And secretly she was more than a little afraid of the big world that lay beyond the windows of her safe and comfortable home.

  Everyone said they were the perfect family and indeed they were. Grace had everything that she had ever wanted. Grace had everything that everyone had ever wanted. Grace was lucky.

  So why did she often feel so sad?

  Grace grew more and more depressed. William grew more and more concerned. Although he tried very hard to understand why she was so unhappy, he could not. Being perfectly happy himself, he was mystified by her misery. He sent her more and more flowers to cheer her up. Almost every day now a new bouquet would arrive, until every room was filled with them. But still Grace was often crying when he came home from work. He bought her a dog so she wouldn’t be alone all day. Butch was a good dog and the children loved him, but he wasn’t the answer to Grace’s problems. William put big new windows in the dining room so Grace wouldn’t feel so trapped. After that, when William came home from work, he often found her staring at her own reflection in the glass, dinner not made and her hair not combed. He encouraged her to buy more designer dresses, more chairs, a new linen tablecloth, the antique tea set she’d had her eye on for months. Sho
pping had always made her happy before.

  But nothing helped. Sensitive, supportive, and kind as he was, William once made the mistake of pointing out to Grace how lucky she was. This caused her to refuse to speak to him for three whole days. After that, William had to admit there was nothing he could do for her except hold her pretty hand and make sympathetic sounds in the back of his throat while she wept. He tried to be patient and to keep believing that their lives would get back to normal someday soon.

  Obviously Grace needed someone else to talk to. She didn’t like to burden her mother with her problems because her mother and father were so proud of her, so happy for her. She could not now admit to them that she was unhappy. They would be so disappointed. She could not let them down. Whenever Grace talked to her parents, she said, “Everything is wonderful, just wonderful!” And of course they believed her.

  Grace began tracking down and calling up some of her old friends. These were the women who had been secretly envious of her in the early years, the women she had lost touch with when her children were small and she was too busy and too tired to have friends. These were the women whose lives, she imagined, had turned out much like her own.

  But when Grace told these women her troubles, they were not nearly as understanding as she had expected.

  The first woman said, “You think you’ve got problems! I’ve got varicose veins, chronic back pain, and hemorrhoids. My husband goes out and gets drunk every night and my daughter has green hair and three rings in her nose.”