California soon. The thought was indeed soothing. It certainly would be nice to get away from all of this ice and sadness, see some sunshine, leave behind this town with its dirty snow and trains that crash. I could pack up and be ready to go within a week. I envisioned my face as it was kissed by the warm breeze of the coast. With my easel set up in front of me, brush dabbed with color, I felt the light from the sun and there was a smile on my face. I was with Ellis, following our dream.
And then thoughts of Oliver and Papa rushed in. How could I leave them? I couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. Ollie had asked and I had as much as promised to stay. I thought of their sad faces as they stood at the gravesite earlier today. I thought of the future dark, quiet nights together, just the two of them in this house. How could I leave them? How would they get by? Ivy had made it clear that she wasn’t going to help. Oliver couldn’t fall sleep alone, and Papa had never done laundry, or cooked, or cleaned. I thought of Papa’s closed door and Oliver’s tight fingers gripping my arm.
This heavy realization, immovable as a boulder, meant only one thing for me and Ellis. I pulled back from him, physically on the couch and inside as well. My sense of obligation to Ollie and Papa grew roots and attached me to the spot I had spent so much time aching to leave. California now felt selfish. Mama’s death had changed everything. Slowly, like sap dripping from the maple, I began to understand that I needed to fill the space Mama had left.
“A few weeks? Did you say a few weeks?” I asked Ellis, now out of his arms and facing him. “I thought we wouldn’t be leaving for six months.”
“They want me to start right away. I told them yes, that I would. We’ll have to be married a little sooner, but then we can leave shortly after that. This is still what you want, isn’t it? California?”
“It is what I want.” I paused, thinking. “It was, anyway. I just didn’t realize the job began so soon. I’m… I’m… not sure I can go right now. Papa is going to need me for a while, and Ollie… Ollie might need me for longer than that.”
“Tish, what are you saying?”
The words that needed to be said, once said, couldn’t be taken back. So instead I hesitated before taking the big jump, asking “Maybe we could delay a bit? Until Papa and Ollie are settled?”
“I don’t want to delay a bit, Tish!” Ellis shouted. He ran his fingers hard through his hair and then said more softly, “I don’t know if that is possible. There may not be a job waiting for me if I don’t go when they need me.”
And so there it was, the need to say the words, to jump and break apart upon landing. I said, “Yes, of course. You are right. You must go. It is a wonderful opportunity. You must go.”
“’You must go?’” he started slowly. “Tish, why are you saying, ‘you?’ Shouldn’t you be saying ‘we?’”
“I… I can’t…”
“I gave my word that I would be on the job in January.” His voice was hard, final.
“And so, you must.”
“Tish? We’re to be married and… and I love you.”
“I love you too, Ellis, but I can’t leave. I won’t abandon Ollie and Papa. I can’t.”
“Maybe you could come out to California in the summer? That would give you more time to settle things here.”
“I don’t know that they will ever be settled. Would you consider staying here? Living here? In Willow Grove?” I asked, though I knew the answer already.
“Aw, for goodness sake, Tish!” Ellis was on his feet now, his arms waving in the air. “Ever since we first met, all you could talk about was getting out of this town, going West, experiencing new things! I got a job. You’ve agreed to marry me. We are going to California!”
“Ellis, please. Keep your voice down. Please try to understand. The situation is different now. Oliver and Papa are helpless without Mama. How can I leave them?”
“They can hire someone to help out with the laundry and other household chores. Why does it fall to you?”
“It does. It just does. A maid isn’t going to love them and take care of them. You should have seen them today—Papa is practically comatose, and Oliver is so needy, he wouldn’t sleep without me in his bed! How can I leave them like that?”
“But it’s not what we want! It’s not what you want!”
“No! Of course I don’t want this! I want Mama back and I want to marry you and see California!” My voice was louder and more shrill than it should have been.
Ellis sighed hard and sat next to me again, squeezing my hand in his. “Then let’s. Your father is a grown man; he can fend for himself. It is his responsibility to look after Oliver. We have our own life to live now. Ivy and William understand that; why can’t you? Please, Tish. I need you too. Let’s get married and move to California like we planned.”
I wanted to give in. With a simple nod, I could set things in motion westward and leave all of this pain behind. But I knew I would be taking guilt with me. Shirked responsibility is a heavy burden to carry. I looked at the room that surrounded me. The windows, in the evening’s gloom, reflected the interior rather than allowing me to see the outside world. Ellis waited, his eyebrows raised in hope that I would finally see his point of view. I looked into his chocolate eyes and saw kindness. I held onto this moment of us sitting hand in hand, his eyes on mine, for as long as I could, waiting for the resolution to find me. When it did, I slowly shook my head.
“I’m so sorry, Ellis. I’m needed here, and if you can’t stay I can’t marry you…”
He stood, anger shining on his face. “You know I can’t stay. Won’t stay. After everything… this.” He shook his head, turned, and walked out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Molly
We had baby class scheduled later that morning, and after my father’s unexpected departure, I found myself looking forward to it. Though Hayden was constantly at my side, I was wrapped in loneliness. I could taste the abandonment. I figured being with other people, any other people, might help.
Christy and Delaney arrived at class and I descended upon them, so happy to see them. We sat together in the circle. After the daily question and some discussion about swing safety, we were given play time on our own.
“How was your week?” I asked Christy.
“Fine, boring. My old boss called, wanting to know when I was coming back to the office. I asked for more time, but honestly, I’m never going back! I’m not sure I love being a stay-at-home mom, but I like it a whole lot better than working at that place! How was your week?”
“Not great. Corey is out of town and I asked my dad to come help out. He just bailed on me this morning, some step-family emergency. I’m on my own for the next three days.”
“How awful. We should do something fun to cheer you up. Maybe we could go out to dinner when your husband gets home.”
“Maybe. But then we would have to get sitters. What if I cooked and had you at our house?” As soon as I said it, I realized how desperately I wanted her to say yes. I wanted a reason to cook, wanted people to cook for.
“I thought you said your house was still full of boxes and stuff?”
“Well, it will motivate me to get the house together.”
Christy agreed to come. It meant I had a lot to do, but wouldn’t Corey be surprised when he came home and saw the house organized and uncluttered? The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I was thrilled about the opportunity of getting lost in the cooking, completely in the zone, handling many dishes at once. I craved the thrill of successfully having all the food ready at once. Maybe I would invite Liz and her husband too. And perhaps even Jocelyn and Hank. The kids could all run around and I could make dinner. I’d have to call a handyman to fix the front door pane, and maybe a few other things, but I was beginning to love this idea.
Hayden fell asleep in the car on the way home from class, and I gave silent thanks for this small miracle. I carried him into the house still strapped in the infant car seat and set him down gently in the foyer. I pick
ed up my cell phone, walked to the kitchen, hopefully out of earshot of Hayden lest I wake him. I left a message inviting Jocelyn and Hank, and then dialed Liz.
“Hey there. It’s Molly,” I said. “I’m thinking about having a dinner party when Corey gets home from his business trip and I’d love it if you and Joe and the kids could come.”
“Oh, wow, great. We’d love to! Do you need any help getting ready?”
“No, but I do need the name of a good handyman.”
I wrote down the information. While Hayden slept, I bounced around the house with sprite-like energy. I unpacked boxes and repacked Aunt Tish’s knickknacks. Fussy patterned dishes and mugs went from the cabinets to the counter to the box, and our plain white plates and glasses went in the opposite direction. I had to take breaks to feed and change Hayden, but then I got right back to it.
The handyman arrived and I greeted him at the broken door.
“Think you can fix it?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said, taking out his tools and a few pieces of glass he had brought along.
He worked and I worked. When he was ready to go, he found me in the kitchen.
“Any chance you could switch out these tiles tomorrow?” I asked pointing at the broken floor.
He bent down and examined it.
“Maybe. I’d have to see if I could find some that matched. If not, I can fill it. Either way, might get pretty messy.” He looked at Hayden. “And loud.”
Energy and motivation flowed through me for the first time in months. “No problem. Let’s just get it done!”
●●●
As usual, I slept very little that night, but I rose to face the next day determined. The handy man arrived early, blocked off the kitchen, and started making quite a racket behind the plastic sheeting. In the library, I laid Hayden out on a blanket and continued to unshelve books and reshelf ours. Doing so, I found the Hess’s Delicatessen book again. I picked up where I had left off. Flipping past three recipes for Boiled Dressing, I found a newspaper clipping. The yellowing page was frayed at the edges, but the dark-inked words remained bold. More than Fifty Killed and Injured in Terrible Disaster on Newtown Railroad, it read. Passengers and Trainmen Mangled, Crushed, Scalded and Burned Alive. The article included a photograph of the train, the skeletal ribs of a burned-out car left standing on the track, smoke rising ahead of it. A side panel article listed the known fatalities and a familiar name caught my eye. Hess. Our family name. Laurel Hess. Why was that familiar?
I stood and walked to the still life of onions and carrots that hung on the wall in the dining room. There it was, a signature. Laurel Hess in tight, neat script. Corey had said his grandmother had painted it. That must have been Aunt Tish’s mother. A mother she had lost, just as I lost mine.
I returned the clipping to the folds of the back pages and flipped forward to the first menu. In fine print on the front page, so small that I had overlooked it before, read Proprietors: Julian and Laurel Hess. Flipping to later menus, I searched for her name. Instead, the menus read Proprietors: Julian Hess and Letitia Hess. “Tish” must have been short for Letitia. Later in the book, and presumably in time, the menus dropped Julian’s name altogether. The delicatessen had become hers. Aunt Tish had taken her mother’s place in the house and in the family business.
What did that mean for her and starting a family? Before the train crash, Laurel Hess ran the restaurant and had a family. Could Aunt Tish have done both? Could I now? An idea began to take shape. A way to do what I loved and honor the aunt that Corey loved. I could revitalize Hess’s Delicatessen, putting a modern twist on some of the recipes within this book. But could it be more than an idea? How would Corey feel about daycare for Hayden? Maybe I could make some of the recipes for our dinner party, and after he tasted and liked them, broach the subject with Corey.
I didn’t mention my ideas any of the times Corey called from Houston. He was terse with me and mostly just asked after the baby. I didn’t tell him about the dinner party, the recipe book, or all the repair and organizational work I had been getting done. I wanted to surprise him with my capability in his absence. And I really had made good progress. Though the grass still stood tall in the yard and the siding could really use a good power wash, I was beginning to see the beauty in the place. Inside, I hauled the boxes of Aunt Tish’s things to the basement. Soon, the floors were visible and I ran the vacuum over and over. The white noise even seemed to calm Hayden.
The handyman finished and the kitchen floor looked like new. It was like the cracks and chips in the tile had never been there.
I put our tablecloth over the long dining room table and filled a vase with apples for the centerpiece. I took down some of the paintings, replacing them with photographs that had hung in our DC apartment, but left the still life with onions and carrots, as a nod to the ladies of the house before me, and to soften the makeover for Corey.
The house looked more and more like mine with each change. I couldn’t wait for our dinner party guests and Corey to see it.
●●●
On the day of his return, I heard Corey walk in the front door. I called to him, “Welcome home! What do you think? How does it look? I finally finished unpacking! We, my love, are throwing a dinner party! Tomorrow night. I am so excited. Christy and Mark are coming, and I have invited Liz and Joe, and Jocelyn and Hank…” I walked into the foyer and handed Hayden to Corey. “Say hello to Daddy. We missed you!”
Corey took the baby and looked around.
“Molly…stop. Just stop talking. What have you done?” he said slowly, loosening his tie with his free hand.
“Do you like it? I have unpacked all of our things. And don’t worry, all of Aunt Tish’s stuff is still here, as requested, just safely packed up in the basement.”
He put Hayden in the Pack ‘n Play and walked through the rooms like he had never seen them before.
“You took down the paintings? My Aunt Tish’s paintings? And put them in the moldy basement?”
“I left the onions and carrots painting,” I said, hating the panic in my voice. This wasn’t going well at all.
He ignored me and walked to the kitchen. “And did you have the floor fixed? Where is my racetrack?”
“Your what?”
“My racetrack, Molly. Remember I told you that I raced cars in here and that huge crack was the starting line? Remember I told you I wanted to do that with Hayden when he got old enough?”
I was startled by his anger. “You could still race cars in here…”
“It’s not the same,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ve ruined it.”
“I thought I was making the house better. Fixing it up. Making it ours.”
“It is ours.”
“No, it’s not. It’s hers.” My face began to burn. “This house was your Aunt Tish’s through and through and I was just trying to make it feel like I lived here too. We have friends coming over and I wanted it to look nice.”
“You wiped out all of my childhood memories for the sake of a stupid dinner party? That’s great. Thanks a lot. Put it all back, just the way it was. You’ll have to cancel your party anyway. I have to work tomorrow night; things didn’t go well in Houston.”
He said party like it was a dirty word, something shameful he had every right to cancel. The condescension hit my face like backdraft of flames, slowly at first and then all at once I was burning with it, a rushing sound filling my ears.
“You can’t take off a few hours after being gone for days to do this one thing for me?” I cried.
“No, Molly, I can’t. You should have asked me before planning this.”
“Seriously, Corey? Maybe I should have asked you. But maybe I should have just assumed that I could never do anything that I wanted, ever, because you would be working all the time.”
“Come on, don’t do this. You know how much I have to work.”
“Actually, no. I didn’t know how much you were going to work when we moved up here. I didn’
t know that I would be stuck alone all day with a baby that hates me and screams no matter what I do. I didn’t know that I would be forced to live in the house that time forgot, and play happy little homemaker by giving up everything that is important to me.” I had risen to my feet now, looking Corey straight on.
“You agreed to quit your job and move here! Don’t give me this nonsense. I didn’t force you into this. We decided together, remember?”
“Right, we decided together. What else have we been doing together lately? Nothing. You barely help with the baby,” I began ticking my grievances off on my fingers. “You are at work even on the weekends, and when you aren’t, you are playing golf with your boss. We have been out once together once, once, since the baby was born. Do you know what I do around here all day? Nothing! I stare at those stupid paintings and the stupid crack in the kitchen floor. I am bored and freaked out because I am a terrible mother. You told me this place would be great and beautiful and ours, and it was a lie. It’s a crumbling shrine to your aunt. I want to throw one dinner party, do one thing that is for me, and you crap all over it. I can’t even put my own pictures up on the walls. I’ve disappeared here. It’s like I exist only to care for Hayden.”
“If you aren’t happy then why don’t you just…” he started.
I cut him off. “Just what? Leave? Is that what you are saying?”
“No! I was going to say just get some help. Where is all of this coming from? Do you want to leave?”
“No, but I do want more help from you! I want you to be present and involved and I want to feel like you think I am important again.”
“You are important, Molly. You’re the mother of my child.”
“No! I want to be me again. Just me, important for being me. Where did I go? My life and the things that I want shouldn’t just be erased because we have a child and you have a terrible work schedule.”
“What is it that you want to do so very badly? I have provided everything for you! That’s why I am working so hard!”
“I want to make this house our home.”
An Imperfection in the Kitchen Floor Page 21
