by Gina Sorell
I sat up in bed and pulled the sheet toward me. I hadn’t told my mother about Ted. I tried to let her know as little about my personal life as possible. I was safer that way.
“Yes, sure, I’d like that. Hang on, let me see if she’s home.” He cupped his hand over the phone and passed it to me.
I shook my head no, but could see in his eyes he was hoping that this would be the moment he’d hoped for me, my mother calling to congratulate me and tell me how proud she was. “Just talk to her,” he whispered.
“Fine.” I sighed heavily as I took the phone. “Mother?”
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“It’s new.” Ted and I had been together for almost a year, but she didn’t need to know that.
“And already living together? Must be going well.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, of course. I’m just going out of town for six months with the Seekers and I thought you should know. If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I’d appreciate it if you were able to look in on the apartment.”
“What about Vincent?”
“If it’s too much of a bother, you can just say so,” she snapped.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” I waited for her to mention the article. “Is that the only reason you called?”
“Why? Is there something else you haven’t told me?”
I held my breath. I wasn’t going to play her game.
“Have a great trip, Mother—”
“Elspeth,” she interrupted, “it would be nice if you could make time in your schedule to see me before I go.”
It was just like her to put it on me. I hadn’t heard from her in months and now I was the one with the schedule that was too busy to accommodate her.
“What’s your week like?”
“It would need to be tonight. I leave tomorrow morning and I still have to pack, so an early dinner would be best. It won’t take up your whole evening, and you can bring your friend. It would be nice to know who my daughter is living with.”
I felt my heart pounding in my chest and clamped my jaw shut.
“What is it?” whispered Ted. He’d been perched on the edge of the bed, staring at me the whole time.
“She wants to meet for dinner. Tonight. Both of us.”
“Great! Looking forward to it,” he said, loud enough for my mother to hear.
We were to meet in the lobby of Dalewood at 6:00 p.m., but when we arrived Vincent told us my mother was running late and had asked that we go upstairs. The whole elevator ride up my stomach kept doing flip-flops, and I squeezed Ted’s hand hard.
“Relax Else, it’s going to be okay. Dinner will be quick and painless, and then you won’t have to see her for another six months.” He kissed the top of my head and I smiled. I was glad he came.
“Nothing’s ever painless with her.”
“I’m here,” he said as we exited the elevator and made our way down the hall to the apartment.
“It’s open,” yelled my mother.
I took a deep breath as I opened the door.
“You’ll have to excuse me, I was just finishing my exercises.”
There she was in her white leotard, standing on her head. I heard myself gasp, and I shut my mouth so tightly I accidentally bit my tongue.
Slowly she came down from her headstand, bent over, and rolled up her yoga mat.
“I thought we were meeting at six?” she said. She calmly turned and smiled at us. I looked over at Ted; his mouth hung open, but no words came out.
“It’s a quarter after six, Mother.” It came out kind of strangled, and I swallowed hard.
“Is it? I completely lost track of time.” Her hair and makeup were done, and as she faced Ted, she pulled her shoulders back a bit farther. “Forgive me. You must be Elsie’s friend.”
“Mother, this is Ted. My boyfriend.”
“Pleased to meet you.” She extended her hand to him as if he should kiss it, and he grabbed it in a firm handshake instead.
“Ms. Robins.” His voice was tight, and the expression on his face was wooden. It took a lot to throw Ted, but the sight of my mother braless in her skintight leotard and nothing else had apparently done the trick.
I watched as the smile faltered on her face for just a moment.
She leaned into him and placed her hand on his arm. “Please, call me Rachel. I assure you I don’t normally meet Elsie’s friends in my leotard, but I’m traveling tomorrow, and I just could not get on a plane without having gotten my practice in.” She paused for a moment, waiting for him to respond, but he said nothing.
“Well, why don’t I quickly get dressed and we can be on our way.” She went into her bedroom and minutes later emerged in leggings, sandals, and a tunic. The three of us rode the elevator down in silence.
My mother spent the short walk to the restaurant talking about her upcoming European trip and the wonderful work she was doing with the Seekers. She wasn’t talking about it for my benefit; she was showing off, trying to get Ted to ask her more about herself, but he didn’t. By the time we got to the restaurant, though, I could tell by the way he was looking at her that he’d recovered. Instead of shock, he wore a slightly curious expression, like he was watching some animal at the zoo that he’d never seen before.
The waiter seated us at a little table in the back of an old Victorian house that had been turned into a Middle Eastern restaurant. Ted pulled out my mother’s chair for her and then sat down next to me. It was a simple place with worn hardwood floors and little wooden tables with bright red cloths. Along the whitewashed walls hung family photographs and children’s drawings, making it feel as if you were in someone’s living room rather than a restaurant. In fact, I was pretty sure the family that ran the place lived on the second floor of the house. I’d been here a couple of times with my mother before, and if it hadn’t been a regular place of hers, I would have come more often.
We ordered, and my mother spent the fifteen minutes until our meals arrived flirting with Ted. She asked about his acting, complimented him on his leading-man looks, and laughed too loudly at his jokes. She leaned forward when he talked, and confessed that of all the performing arts, she found his the most impressive, for it used one’s body and mind. She behaved like a teenager, running her hands through her hair and touching his forearm for emphasis when she spoke, and it made me cringe. I was so embarrassed I wanted to die, but when I looked at Ted, he was acting like it was the most delightful conversation in the world. The entire time she barely looked at me, and I felt myself sink deeper and deeper into my chair.
“So, Rachel,” said Ted after the waiter placed our falafel plates in front of us, “did you see Elsie’s glowing review in the paper?” He threw his arm around my shoulder and gave her a big smile.
“No, I didn’t.” She seemed taken aback, and she took a sip of her water before looking at me. “Why didn’t you say something, Elspeth?” She kept her voice light and airy, but there was a tightness in her smile that I recognized.
“I, uh.…”
“It was on the front page of the arts section this weekend,” said Ted, smiling at my mother.
“Really? What a shame—I’ve thrown the paper out already.”
“That’s okay, I have it right here.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out the clipping.
I stared at him in disbelief. I had no idea he had the article on him, and I could see on my mother’s face that just as Ted had underestimated her, she’d done the same with him.
“I thought you’d want to see it,” he said sincerely, pushing the article across the table. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? I am just so proud of Elsie.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss, and I saw her fidgeting uncomfortably. “You must be too.”
“Indeed.” My mother pursed her lips and quickly skimmed the article. “Congratulations Elspeth. I would have loved to have been there, had I known.”
“Elsie, you should really put your mother on your mailing list,
” said Ted sweetly. I squeezed his leg under the table. He knew I sent her a catalogue every season. If she wanted to come, she could have.
“Don’t worry, Rachel, it runs for two more months.”
“Yes, but I’ll be in—”
“Paris. Right. Sorry, I forgot.”
I looked at the two of them staring at each other with their tight, polite smiles. Ted was probably the first person my mother had met that she couldn’t win over. I could only imagine how unbearable she was going to be for the rest of the meal.
I was rescued when she recognized an older gentleman friend of hers entering the restaurant alone and insisted that he join us. Unlike Ted, he found my mother endlessly charming and couldn’t hear enough of her stories. After only a few mouthfuls, I asked to take the rest of the food to go, and Ted, understanding how uncomfortable I was, announced we had a prior engagement and had to leave. He apologized for our hasty exit, paid the check, and whisked me out, his hand firmly against my back. As we left, I snuck a glance back at my mother. She no longer seemed concerned about getting home early to pack for her trip, and she sat there comfortably, laughing and talking.
“Fucking unbelievable,” said Ted when we were out of earshot.
“I’m sorry,” I said, choking back tears and clutching my takeout container.
“Don’t you be sorry.” He stopped and faced me, taking my shoulders in his hands. “Don’t you dare apologize for that woman. She’s the one who should be sorry. What kind of mother flirts with her daughter’s boyfriend? What kind of mother ignores the achievements of her only child, only to ramble on incessantly about how fucking interesting her own life is?”
He was so angry that he was actually squeezing my shoulders as he spoke, and the tears that had welled up in my eyes fell down my face.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you saw her, and that I thought it would be no big deal,” he said, hugging me tightly.
I buried my face in his chest. I heard his heart pounding, and it felt good to know it was beating so strongly for me.
“I’m sorry you had to pay for dinner,” I said, starting to laugh and cry at the same time.
“I’m sorry that I had to see your mother in a leotard.” He lifted my chin and looked me straight in the eye. He softly kissed my eyes and nose and then my lips. “Now please take me home. I need a shower,” he said, making me love him even more.
That night I told Ted all of it. If ever there was a time for him to see just how much crazy was in my family, the night he met my mother was it. I didn’t want to keep any more secrets on my mother’s behalf; I was tired of protecting her, and tired of worrying how it would reflect on me. Ted lay next to me in bed as I talked and cried and talked some more. And when I was done, he held me for a long time before saying anything. When he finally spoke, he said the three best words I could ever hope for.
“Forget about her.”
Ted would never forgive my mother for all she had put me through. And early on he made it clear that if there were sides to take he, was on mine. When I’d falter in my resolve to keep my distance from her and went for a visit, he’d be by my side, coming along to make sure I was okay. He’d sit next to me, an arm wrapped around my shoulder, a hand on mine, presenting the picture of a united front. I loved that he was there to protect me, and I loved that my mother could see it, too. Occasionally a get-together would go well and I’d find myself in my mother’s light, privy to her thoughts and feelings, answering questions about myself that she took the time to ask. I’d get my hopes up and wonder to Ted if things might be different with her now that I was an adult. I’d reason that things had changed, that I had changed, and he’d listen silently and bite his tongue. Inevitably things would go back to the way they were, and I’d blame myself for being stupid enough to believe otherwise. Ted would hold me and reassure me that there was nothing stupid about wanting a parent’s love and approval. Finally, after years of managing the damage she did to me, he begged me to acknowledge that Rachel would never be the mother I had hoped for, and to cut my losses and move on, for both our sakes. And I had.
“Jesus, even dead she’s messing with you.” He paced back and forth across his office and ran his hands through his hair.
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry. All she’s left you is her mess to clean up and a box that may or may not contain her deepest, darkest secrets.”
“Maybe it’s a box of chocolates.” I wanted to hear him laugh again. No such luck.
“Look, Elsie, if I know you, you’re going to open it, and if I knew your mother, whatever you find will only lead to more confusion and questions.”
“What would you do?”
The door opened wide and Julie stood in its entrance. “Babe, they need you.” She nervously glanced at me and looked away. She was just as I remembered her, only prettier. Julie was a much younger and less complicated version of myself, and I was happy for Ted that he had her. It hadn’t taken him long to find someone else. Not because he was a player, but because she had always been there. Julie had been Ted’s assistant since we arrived in LA It was her first job out of college, and I used to tease him that judging by the way she doted on him, I bet she hoped it was her last. He would assure me that I had nothing to worry about, and I didn’t. Julie wasn’t that kind of girl, and I knew it. But it was clear that she adored Ted, and after seven years of working alongside him, she could read his moods and anticipate his needs. And what he needed when we broke up was something easy with someone uncomplicated, and Julie was there to give it to him. She loved him. And after everything that we had been through, I was glad that she’d been the one to pick up the pieces.
“Hi Julie.” I tried to smile at her, to put her at ease. It couldn’t be easy watching your boyfriend rush off to rescue his ex.
“Hi Elspeth. Ted told me your mom died; I’m really sorry.” She looked sincere, and I believed her.
“I should let you guys get back to work.” I turned to Ted. “Thanks for listening.”
“Burn the box, Else. Sell the ring, take the cash, and move on. You have spent your whole life trying to understand that woman. She’s gone. Let her go. She’s done enough damage.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You’re right. What good can come of it?” We stood facing each other for a moment, unsure of how to part ways. Ted moved toward me, and I folded my arms in front of my body and moved toward the door. I couldn’t hug him, not in front of Julie, although I wanted to. I wanted to more than I thought I would. I gave them both a small wave and a weak smile as I left. “I’ll see myself out.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The box sat in the middle of my bed, and I sat in front of it. Something in me knew that if I opened it, there would be no going back. Ted was right: it had taken me a long time and several thousand miles to try to get over my failed relationship with my mother, and in one day I realized I had no idea who she was. I placed my hands on top of the box and wondered what was so important that she needed to hide it in a neighbor’s place. And how bad were things that a neighbor was the person she felt she could trust the most?
I looked at the black-and-white photo Mrs. David had taken of my mother. She shot it as the sun was going down. In it, my mother in her robe stared out the window, her hands on the glass, her hair loose down her back. Her face was thinner from age, the long lines of her nose and cheekbones even more pronounced than usual. She was looking at something far away, unconcerned with the photographer’s lens, her face deep in thought. She had the same deep groove that I did between the eyebrows, a long line that came from worrying. I held the picture close to my face. She was exquisite, and, like I had so many times before, I felt a longing to know what she had been thinking, a desire to be included in her private thoughts. And here was my chance.
Shadow hopped out of my lap, turned to face me, and meowed loudly.
“I’m sure, Shadow. I’m sure.”
My heart was pounding, and
my hand started to shake. I gently lifted the latch and slowly opened the box, and there was the photograph of myself as a toddler under the big tree in our backyard in Africa, and a letter addressed to me in my mother’s handwriting.
Elspeth,
I’ve written this letter a hundred times since finding out the truth. But there aren’t enough words to explain how we got here. And yet here I am again, wondering if I should tell you what you are better off not knowing.
I’ll be leaving soon, but you still have so much living to do. I hope you’ll do it. I hope you’ll find a way. I know that I haven’t paved much of a path for you, but the road is still long, and I pray that you’ll find it leads to a better place than this one.
We all have secrets, and this box holds mine. The choice to bury them along with me or uncover them is yours to take. You don’t owe me anything. That is one thing I am sure that we can both agree on.
Out of the darkness and into the light. But remember, light can be blinding too. I hope that one day, you will be able to see that.
Mother
I held the letter gently, its light-blue paper delicate in my hands. More secrets. But this felt different to me. This was the closest to an explanation or apology that I would ever get. I may have hoped for a simple declaration of motherly love, but I knew my mother well enough to know that nothing was simple with her. All my life she had claimed a superiority, a moral high ground, and here she was essentially admitting that she had been wrong. Wrong about what? Ted was right. I should bury the box with her, but as I lifted the letter to my face, I could still smell the scent of her rosewater talcum powder. She must have written this just before she died, and I was moved by the thought that at the very end, she had been thinking of me. For once, she had extended an invitation to know her, and I was going to take it.
Inside the box was a small photo album held together with an old rubber band. I rolled it off and ran my hand along the album’s cover. Gold leaf lettering that had since faded and peeled away, leaving only the indentation of the letters, spelled out For Ray. I opened the cover and recognized my mother’s slanted handwriting. This book belongs to Rachel Mills, Age 15. On the first page was a black-and-white photograph of a man, a woman, and two children standing in front of a small brick house that backed onto a large field.
