“Nancy Elaine Bower, you put that cigarette out immediately!” Nan’s mother shouted from downstairs.
She winked at herself in the mirror.
“Oh yes mama, I’ll do that right now,” she mused, cigarette bouncing as she spoke.
Taking another long drag, she exhaled a series of lopsided smoke rings. She never could get the damn things right. Not like her brother Buddy. He tried to teach her a few times when they were younger, but Nan never mastered it. It didn’t stop her from trying though, just from succeeding. Now wasn’t that the story of her life.
“Nan? Nancy? Did you hear me? So help me God, don’t make me come up these stairs!”
Nan smiled ruefully. At one time her mother’s threat would have caused her to cease whatever censored activity she was doing immediately, but now she knows Elsie won’t actually come up to her room. It was the fight she really wanted, not the conquest. Besides, every day started this way. Not with the chaotic events in the yard, but with Nan’s mother establishing her rule of law. Sometimes it was about smoking, but other times, most other times, it had to with CJ and Nan’s ability to parent him. Or lack thereof if Elsie was to be believed.
“You could always move,” Nan said out loud to her reflection. “Get a job, take CJ and just go.”
The image in the mirror laughed in her face.
“Really?” Nan replied to herself with more than a note of derision. “Just get a job. And what exactly are you going to do?”
Despite the question emerging from Nan’s own mouth, it sounded suspiciously like her mother’s voice. Maybe not the timbre exactly, but the patronizing tone for sure.
The only job she’d ever held was cashiering down at JJ Newberry and that was a lifetime ago. Even if she could find something that would pay her enough to scrape by, did CJ deserve a life of just scraping by? After everything she’d done to him, Nan didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if she uprooted her son from the only home he’d ever known and dragged him into a life of poverty and uncertainty. And to be honest, something she generally didn’t like being with herself, she wasn’t sure she could. Even after nearly three years gone by, she was still afraid. Afraid of leaving. Afraid of living.
So there it was. If she wanted to have a life with CJ, she was stuck. Stuck here and stuck with her mother. Nan shook her head and sighed as she stubbed out her cigarette. Oh well, no sense wasting time wishing the sky wasn’t blue, her father would have said.
On her way out of the room, Nan grabbed her red flannel robe from the foot of the bed. Elsie had bought several new ones over the years, pleading with Nan repeatedly to throw away the one she held in her hand. Sure, it was a bit threadbare in places, but there were no holes in it, and so whether this act of defiance had underlying motives, there was no good reason she could think of to get rid of it. This was a concept her mother would never understand.
Walking down the hallway to the stairs, Nan barely glanced at the framed snapshots that lined the walls. She knew by heart the pictures of her and her brothers, and dozens of CJ, of course. There were a few of Elsie and Joe, and none of Nan’s father. Nan wasn’t sure if any of the latter still existed or not, but if they did, she hoped they had been packed away in some long forgotten far corner of the house. She hated to think that her mother might have destroyed them, but knowing Elsie the way she did, their destruction wasn’t entirely impossible.
Nan stopped half way down the stairs. Her mother stood alone in the living room watching the movers through a set of French doors. Sparsely yet sleekly furnished in modern art deco, the room was in the new part of the house, an addition Nan would always think of as new though it had been built eight years before. The stark white carpet and equally bright white walls that reached toward a soaring cathedral ceiling made Elsie look small in the space she occupied. But from where Nan stood, her mother’s exasperation was evident.
“Good morning mama,” Nan greeted coolly as she continued down the stairs. She hadn’t forgotten the sting of Elsie’s earlier barb about her sleeping in. It didn’t matter that her mother hadn’t seen her standing in the window. Somehow that made it worse.
“Look at them, would you?” Elsie said, indifferent to Nan’s sternness. “If they were any more primitive, their God damned knuckles would be dragging on the ground.”
Nan didn’t answer.
“They broke my crystal,” her mother pouted. “That set is irreplaceable. It belonged to Joe’s mother you know. When he finds out, he’s going to have somebody’s balls stuffed and mounted over the fireplace.”
Nan wrinkled her nose at her mother’s crassness. Elsie’s language had always been salty and marrying money hadn’t changed that much. Despite her mother’s prediction, Nan didn’t believe her stepfather was going to give two shits about a bunch of crystal, even if it had belonged to his mother. Joe Hamilton, a lawyer more interested in fees than justice, was a dollars and cents kind of guy. Undoubtedly, the glassware was well insured, and hell, Joe would probably rather have the cash.
“Look at the bright side,” Nan replied. “At least now you can justify buying that set you were looking at in Spiegel’s last week.”
Elsie spent hours each day perusing thick glossy catalogues, circling things she wanted with a fat red marker. Each week, often every few days, a delivery of boxes filled with these coveted items would be left on the front porch. Extraordinary wealth did not come without perks after all. Nan didn’t consider herself rich since it was Joe’s, and by extension her mother’s fortune, but she had to admit, she certainly benefitted from the circumstances.
“Hmm,” Elsie said, appearing to mull it over. She looked at Nan, her eyes narrowing.
“Are you feeling alright? You look terrible.”
“Thank you, mama,” Nan sighed.
“Don’t be flip with me, Nancy. You know what I mean. You’re pale.”
“I prefer to think of it as alabaster,” Nan retorted, tightening the belt of her robe.
“Well it’s not,” Elsie snapped. “You’re the color of mayonnaise.”
Nan opened her mouth to respond but Elsie spoke again before she could.
“You do realize that you’re perfectly safe here,” she said catching Nan a little off guard. She was used to her mother’s pinball ways, but every now and again, Elsie ricocheted right out of orbit.
“I know,” Nan replied, unsure of what else to say. She was safe, at least from the world outside. But Nan had always been her own worst enemy, so safe was a relative concept.
“Will you be okay while we’re gone?” her mother asked.
Elsie and Joe had planned a quick getaway to Bar Harbor the day after the wedding. Although they’d only be gone for three days, it would be the longest stretch of time Nan’s mother would be away from CJ, not to mention leaving him alone with Nan, since he was born. At first Elsie had suggested CJ stay with Nan’s brother John and his wife Michelle, but Nan had lobbied hard to keep her son at the house with her. Well really, Buddy had lobbied for her and somehow convinced their mother that she was capable of looking after CJ for a few days. Nan was secretly hoping she and her son might bond in Elsie’s absence, however her anticipation was tempered slightly by the idea that should she wake from a nightmare, she would not be able to console herself with the knowledge that there were others nearby in the house.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Elsie cried causing Nan to jump before she could answer her mother’s question.
It was the movers again. The half-constructed tent out back had begun to lean drunkenly toward one side, and the men were running to get out of its way. They barely escaped the falling structure and then began shouting what appeared to be blame at one another.
“I’ve got to get out there before they botch this entire thing!”
Elsie started for the door.
“CJ’s out in the side yard,” she called. “He’s dressed, and obviously, he’s had breakfast already.”
Nan winced.
“And I
don’t care what he tells you Nancy,” her mother continued. “Do not give him any more cookies. He’s eaten at least a dozen already!”
Take your own advice mama, Nan thought, not realizing how good said advice would turn out to be.
Nan turned in the opposite direction and made her way through the house, ignoring the ornate furnishings and the artwork decorating the walls. The physical pathway remained unchanged, but everything else from her childhood home lived only in memory. Each room, at least those that existed before the renovations, had windows where there had never been, smooth drywall where there had only been concrete and horsehair before, and sunken track lighting instead of the bug filled globes over flickering light bulbs of her youth. As with the missing photos of her father, when Elsie decided to scrub the past away, she scrubbed hard.
The side yard was a large grassy area bordered by tall hedges on one side and the porch on the other. A white wooden fence capped each end so the only way in or out was the east side porch stairs. This made the spot a safe haven for CJ. Thanks to her mother and Joe, the yard was filled with things any little boy would love. An elaborate swing set complete with a teeter-totter stood near a tree house that rivaled the Swiss Family Robinson’s. An enormous sandbox with a toy backhoe mounted in the center occupied one corner, and it was here Nan found CJ absentmindedly pushing matchbox cars along roads he’d dug in the dirt. Sensing Nan, he looked up.
“Hello,” he said without changing expressions.
“Good morning CJ,” she replied, forcing a smile.
It was disheartening that while CJ had referred to her as his mother in the yard earlier, he never called her anything to her face. Not mom or mommy. Not mama like Nan called Elsie. Not even the more formal Mother. If he wanted her attention, he would just look at her until she noticed and then begin talking. But at least he had mentioned her in the exchange with his grandmother and Nan opted to see that as a small victory.
“Can I play with you?” she asked.
“Sure,” CJ answered, holding out a blue car with a number three painted on the hood.
She took it and sat on the edge of the sandbox. They played quietly, side by side, but not quite together. Nan wished she knew the magic words to make things better between them. ‘I’m sorry’ came to mind, but where on earth would she begin? And if it began, where on earth would it end? Instead Nan asked:
“Do you feel ready for tomorrow?”
Arthur had tapped CJ to be the ring bearer, and he’d practiced carrying the small embroidered pillow steady for weeks. Naturally shy, Nan wondered if he would be too nervous to follow through when his big moment arrived.
“I think so,” he replied.
“You’ll finally get to wear your suit.”
Elsie had bought CJ a pale blue tuxedo that matched the groomsmen’s exactly. The one time he’d tried it on for a fitting, he hadn’t wanted to take it off.
“Oh yeah,” he replied with a little more interest. “Can I put it on now?”
“Not just yet. Grandmama will…”
She was tempted to say ‘hang your balls over the fireplace’, but didn’t.
“She’ll be upset if you get anything on it before tomorrow. Tonight is the rehearsal dinner though, and you can wear a tie if you want.”
“Okay,” CJ replied. “Will there be macaroni and cheese?”
“I don’t think so, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have something to eat.”
Nan made a mental note to sneak a peanut butter sandwich into the restaurant for CJ and her empty stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Despite Elsie’s strong objections to Newick’s, a boisterous clam shack in a nearby town, as site of the rehearsal dinner, Arthur and Laura had somehow prevailed on this. Good for them, Nan thought. They might not have macaroni and cheese, but her mouth watered at the idea of Newick’s deep fried scallops. Not the barely-a-bite tiny bay scallops, but the big juicy sea variety she loved. Her stomach growled again.
“I’m hungry,” CJ said.
Sometimes his perception was startling.
“May I have a Snickerdoodle?”
Nan remembered what Elsie told her and felt a spasm of resentment toward her mother. She’d seen fit to give CJ one of the treats, and as a replacement for Nan no less. It was bad enough that Elsie and Joe were always bringing CJ the latest toy or taking him on special outings, things she wasn’t able to give him. But a cookie? Well that was another story. That she could do.
“Okay, but let’s keep this to ourselves,” Nan said, her voice hushed.
CJ looked puzzled.
“Don’t tell Grandmama.”
She was pleasantly surprised to see his face light up with an uncustomary conspiratorial smile.
“You stay here,” she told him as she ran back to the house, watching surreptitiously for any sign of Elsie. Satisfied her mother was still preoccupied out back, Nan hastily returned to CJ, cookie jar tucked firmly under one arm.
CJ was elated by her success. He began clapping his hands and stomping his feet with more animation than she could remember seeing him display. It was the first time he’d demonstrated such enthusiasm for something she’d done and she basked in his reaction. But Nan should have known better. She should have known her mother would never stand for that.
They’d each eaten four cookies when Elsie unexpectedly strode across the porch. Neither of them heard her coming until she was half way down the stairs. She froze when she spotted them, eyes zeroing in on the cookie jar sitting in the sand near Nan’s feet. She looked at Nan, irritation hardening her features.
“Nancy, didn’t I tell you CJ already had more than enough cookies?” she asked, carefully enunciating each word of the rhetorical question.
“Mama, it’s a special occasion,” Nan stammered, still recovering from the shock of being discovered. She had to bite her lip to stifle a smile when she realized she’d been caught with her hand in the literal cookie jar.
“You know he’s going to be sick, right? Please tell me which medical text advised you that eating a dozen cookies before lunch is a good thing. Was it the American Journal of Pediatrics? Perhaps Dr. Spock himself? Or was this one of your own stupendous ideas?”
And then, replacing her condescending tone with one more of annoyance, Elsie said:
“For Christ’s sake Nan, somebody needs to be the grown up around here.”
“I am twenty-six years old mama. I’m not a child!” Nan started, feeling a rise of anger at her mother’s intrusion. “And I’m allowed to give my son a cookie.”
“Oh really?” Elsie replied snidely.
Turning her attention away from Nan, Elsie looked at CJ.
“Put it down CJ,” she said firmly. “Right now.”
CJ looked from his grandmother to the cookie to Nan.
“It’s okay honey,” Nan said. “You can eat the cookie.”
“Put it down, CJ!” Elsie repeated, glaring at Nan.
“No CJ, you can have it,” replied Nan, her eyes locked on her mother’s.
“Do you really want to do this?” Elsie asked, daring her to push harder.
Nan looked over at CJ and was bolstered by the expression of hope on his face. Too many times in this sort of situation, it ended with her sound defeat. But the optimism so transparent on her son’s face that she would somehow emerge victorious propelled her forward.
“He is my son and he can have that cookie if he wants it.”
Elsie turned to CJ and spoke as if Nan hadn’t said a word.
“CJ, if you don’t put that cookie down right now, I promise you, with God as my witness, you will be graduating high school before I make you another!”
CJ, not yet even enrolled in kindergarten, had only the vaguest idea of what high school was, but Elsie’s granite tone made it clear it would be a very long time indeed. He sighed and laid the cookie in the dirt.
Enraged by her unceremonious rout and fueled by the familiar look of disappointment creeping over her son’s face, Nan turned to her
mother and shouted at the top of her lungs.
“It was a cookie mama! A GODDAMN cookie! CJ is my son! When are you going to remember that? He is MY son!”
Elsie’s brow cocked at the intensity of anger in Nan’s voice. The implication of her words hung heavy in the air between them.
Before Elsie could respond, CJ’s little body shifted and he made a throaty, burping sound that attracted both women’s attention. As Nan and her mother watched, he leaned over and threw up all over the grass next to the sandbox.
And that my friends, Nan thought to herself, is one hell of a ‘God gotcha’.
Chapter 2
The din of the busy restaurant swirled around her. Although hours had passed, Nan continued to nurse her bruised ego. She had taken a long, lavender filled bubble bath following the incident in the side yard, but tension still gripped the back of her neck. Nan’s mother didn’t say a single word to her after CJ threw up, just took him by the hand and walked him silently into the house. Nan wanted to call out after them, to her son, but no words formed. Instead she set about hosing the remnants of CJ’s cookies from the lawn while wondering if things would ever get any better. Was everything she touched destined to always end up a disaster? Did CJ deserve better than she would ever be able to provide him?
These questions plagued her throughout the wedding rehearsal that afternoon, which in reality was little more than controlled chaos as was usual when her brothers were all together in one place. Nan tried to shake off the perpetual cloak of defeat shrouding her but felt nearly overwhelmed by a confusing sense of longing amidst certainty that what she sought would always be held at bay by her own hand. Being in the church as she pondered these things hadn’t provided any solace or remedy for her flip flopping emotions either. Never one for religion, something her mother only found after marrying Joe, Nan always felt a pang of guilt gazing into the wounded eyes of Jesus.
She forced herself to pay attention as Reverend Flaherty, a pudgy man with an impossibly red nose, walked them through the steps for the next day’s service. First in would be CJ and the flower girl, Nan’s three-year-old niece Lily. Then Nan followed by Laura’s sister Barbara, and finally, Laura on the arm of her father. They managed to get through it twice with only a few small mistakes, but on the third and final round, Lily unceremoniously pulled her dress up over her head showing off a pair of pink ruffled panties. This caused CJ to drop the pillow and kick it under a pew. Standing at the front of the church, Buddy made a wise crack to John about Lily’s potential future in a less than savory profession and John threw an elbow at his brother in defense of his young daughter’s reputation. This knocked Buddy into Arthur who angrily stammered at both of them to cut the crap while pushing Buddy back.
Nan's Story Page 2
