Walk on Water

by Garner, Josephine

He was asking me to spend the night again! With my pajama-clad legs draped over the right wheel of his chair, I giggled in his ear as he rolled us back to his bedroom.

  “Absolutely!” I replied.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Mommy warily picked at her starter salad with her fork as if the Longhorn Steakhouse I had persuaded her to go to was not to be trusted. Mommy was a creature of habit for the most part, just as she had raised me to be, and this wasn’t Red Lobster after all, so she was sulking. A little amused by it, I watched her turn over a romaine lettuce leaf that she had coated in ranch dressing.

  “I don’t think the salad is fresh,” she complained as she moved the examined and rejected leaf to the rim of salad bowl.

  Our salads were fine. She was just grousing because I had insisted that we go to Longhorn today. It was my turn to pay and I was driving. And dear Lord, it wasn’t like I had taken her to St. Ives.

  “Mine is fine,” I replied taking a forkful of my salad, the raspberry vinaigrette sweet and tart on my tongue.

  Mommy huffed loudly but then abruptly seemed to get over it, cutting herself a generous piece of the soft hot bread. So far, she had been like this most of the day, blowing hot and cold with me, and I guessed punishing me for not returning her calls on Friday or Saturday. She did have the right to be annoyed. She would have been worried, so admittedly I was neglectful, and even disrespectful, but I had been protecting myself. Mommy wasn’t going to be thrilled about me and Luke taking it to the next level as they say and I wanted to put off her reaction for as long as I could. One angry mother this week was enough.

  The next level. This was where we were. At least according to Corrine, who was, in fact, thrilled about it, not to mention intrigued.

  “What’s it like?” she had repeatedly asked me since I had made it my business to call her Saturday afternoon; as if it couldn’t be really real until I had told someone about it.

  “What’s what like?” I had asked back.

  “You know,” Corrine had followed. “With a paraplegic? Is it freaky?”

  “Oh God, Corrine,” I had replied exasperated.

  But I had brought it upon myself. And truth be told, I had wanted to brag a little.

  “Well,” she had insisted. “Just tell me this, did he rock your world?”

  Yes! And I still wanted to shout it out loud like the Gospel but how juvenile was that?

  “I’m not giving you a play-by-play,” I had informed Corrine.

  “Okay,” she had replied. “But tell me something.”

  “Yes,” I had relinquished.

  To which she had squealed again, this time so loudly that I had been forced to take the telephone away from my ear, and even T-T and Agatha had looked up from their after-lunch grooming to see what had been the matter.

  “Oral?” she had asked. “I hear—”

  “Corrine! I told you I’m not—”

  “Okay. Okay. I can wait ‘til you’ve had a few margaritas to get the details. It’s not like you haven’t talked over his techniques with me before.”

  “That was different,” I had argued.

  “I bet it was,” she had returned giggling.

  Mommy liked to say that she and I were best friends, and maybe we were, but she was my mother first. What I was willing to tell Corrine I was not ready to tell her. What was it about sex and romance that took you straight back to adolescence?

  “So when am I going to get to meet this Brian of yours?” Mommy asked now as she was adding in another packet of Splenda to her freshly topped-off ice tea.

  Oh God, Brian. I hadn’t called him back yet either. He was probably angry with me too. Oh well. I didn’t suppose it mattered so much anymore. If things had upped to the next level with Luke, then they were Josephine Garner over-and-out with Brian. If I was lucky then he had already gotten the message from the no message.

  “Uh, I-I don’t know,” I stammered a little to Mommy.

  “Why not?” she demanded. “Seems like things are getting pretty serious between you two the way he’s taking up so much of your time.”

  Naturally she would assume that Brian was the cause of my daughterly neglect. She had no reason to think of Luke. I almost never mentioned him to her, and Brian had proven to be a blessing of distraction. Although they had not met, Mommy adamantly approved of the idea of Brian. From what I had shared with her, he was somebody I could potentially settle down with. I wasn’t getting any younger, Mommy was constantly reminding me. So yes, she was eager to meet him.

  Meanwhile Luke was eager to see her.

  “I could meet you for lunch,” he had offered just this morning while I was getting dressed for church.

  Thank God I had been in his bathroom and Luke had still been in bed, so he hadn’t been able to see the panicked expression staring back at me from his bathroom mirror.

  “We could do that,” I had tried to sound casual. “But Mommy loves her Red Lobster and I’d rather go some place a little nicer, wouldn’t you? I mean, it’s been so long since she’s seen you, I think we ought to go some place special.”

  “Where would you like to go, Rachel?” he had asked.

  Back in time, I had thought, but I had rattled off a number of possible restaurants.

  “I’m sure we could get a reservation,” Luke had said.

  Finishing my makeup I had come out of the bathroom, but meeting Luke’s incriminating eyes I had wanted to turn around and go back. Instead I had settled for stuffing my cosmetic bag into my weekend traveler to keep my back to him.

  “You haven’t told her about me,” he had said, freezing me in place for a moment. “You need time to prepare her, don’t you? What do you think will be the hardest part for her? Us sleeping together? Or me being a cripple?”

  I had turned to face him.

  “I suppose the combination is the problem,” he had concluded.

  Which would just about make Mommy no better than Betty Sterling, and I didn’t want to think that. Besides, what was the rush? His own parents didn’t know about us yet. And what about Stephanie-the-teacher?

  “Well,” I had managed to collect myself. “If you must know, Luke, it’s your divorce.”

  This answered had surprised him.

  “My divorce?” he had asked.

  “Yes,” I had said gathering some courage because it wasn’t exactly a lie. Mommy had actually said as much. “I know what you’re going to say,” I had gone on. “I’m divorced too. But with your child support and alimony payments, Mommy believes you might be broke.”

  To this he had chuckled allowing me to breathe a relieved sigh.

  “Do I need to show her my tax returns?” Luke had said sarcastically.

  “Not at this stage,” I had joked going over to the bed to kiss him goodbye suggestively. “But hold that thought.”

  Mommy was stirring her tea a little too forcefully, sloshing some of it out on the table.

  “Okay,” I said to her about her meeting Brian, knowing that I didn’t mean it. “We’ll see.”

  “I know Brian’s some kind of big-time executive,” she pouted. “But he hasn’t been rich all his life. He won’t mind being with regular people.”

  I hated it when Mommy played the class card. Maybe in some ways she really was almost as bad as Betty Sterling. She was a skilled laboratory technician, and a supervisor. I had a Master’s degree. We were as good as anybody. And really, wasn’t everybody regular?

  “Well I hope not, Mommy,” I replied sardonically. “Since he is with me.”

  Whenever I called him I thought guiltily.

  Thankfully the conversation between us lightened up, and soon Mommy was regaling me with tales from the lab, as she enjoyed her steak and I ate my salmon, which though not as good as Luke’s, was delicious all the same. I wondered if I could become a connoisseur of grilled salmon. It was good for the heart on so many levels.

  For dessert, Mommy and I ordered a slice of cheesecake, to share, and coffee; and as I watched the creamy treat
disappear from the plate, I decided I should say something about Luke. Yes, to prepare her so to speak. But how? Should I reveal everything all at once? Or one thing at a time? And if one thing at a time, then what should come first? What would be harder for her to hear, that we were sleeping together or that he was disabled?

  According to Mommy my crush on Luke had always been a one-way, going-nowhere thing. She said that Luke had just been nice to me that was all. Hopefully Mommy would never use the word puppy to describe her only child, but she probably did believe something pretty similar to Betty Sterling’s assessment of my status in Luke’s life. I could be nothing more than his protégé, another word that she probably wouldn’t use. If she had known the whole truth about us back then, Mommy would have said that Luke had just been using me. Maybe it would have been a reasonable conclusion too given the way it had turned out.

  But it wasn’t like Luke had tricked me or something. I had asked him. So Mommy would have probably said that it was my fault for letting him take advantage of me. Maybe a mother’s instinct would have made her angry at Luke but she would have certainly blamed me. The same way she had blamed herself for conceiving me. Eve and all her daughters since definitely got a bum rap if you listened to Mommy.

  Now Luke seemed to want us in the light, and he expected me to just announce to Mommy that we were lovers; and I guess while I was at it confess that we had been lovers before. So that he could meet us for lunch after church. Oh yeah, that was totally easy. Yet why shouldn’t it be? It was all perfectly normal really. Luke and I were adults. We had been adults even back then. Okay, there were complications, but complications were very normal too.

  Luke’s parents already suspected something, and I was to meet Luke’s kids over Thanksgiving. He wasn’t hiding me. He never had really. He had dragged me to his college parties, to his intramural games, for beers with his friends. Like his mother said, he liked having me around. I seemed to be the one with the proclivity for keeping secrets. Perhaps it had never made sense, but it certainly didn’t make sense now. Mommy was just going to have to get used to it, to all of it and it was my responsibility to give her sufficient time to do it.

  Nevertheless before I knew it I was parking my car in Mommy’s driveway, and my mind’s resolution still hadn’t made it down to my mouth. As a counselor, I knew it was important not to be dramatic about the news. Okay it was significant but it ought not to appear seismic.

  “You know, Mommy,” I finally started as she was unlocking her front door. “I forgot to mention this earlier, but Luke asked if he could join us for lunch some Sunday after church. Wouldn’t that be nice? He’d really like to see you.”

  Pookie, Mommy’s champagne-colored cocker spaniel met us at the front door, dancing around excitedly and no doubt peeing a little too.

  “Hi, baby boy!” Mommy greeted her dog lovingly. “Are you glad your mommy’s home? Rachel, let’s take Pookie for a walk.”

  Hearing the words Pookie for a walk my four-legged little brother began barking loudly.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “But Mommy did you hear what I said about Luke?”

  “I heard you,” she replied. “I’m going to change my shoes. Put Pookie on his leash.”

  Once we were on Pookie’s walk I brought up Luke’s desire to see Mommy again.

  “I was thinking maybe the first Sunday in December,” I suggested while Pookie sniffed at various bushes and browning patches of grass.

  “Why does he want to have lunch with me?” Mommy asked.

  “With us, Mommy,” I corrected. “And he just wants to see you again that’s all.”

  Pookie strained against his leash and Mommy let him lead her. She tended to spoil Pookie, but I couldn’t criticize since T-T and Agatha basically ran my house. Mommy and I had both become animal lovers in our old age.

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, haven’t you?” asked Mommy.

  “I guess so.”

  “Are you seeing him?”

  So she had her suspicions too. Yes, it was time.

  “Yes, Mommy I am.”

  She nodded.

  “I thought so,” she said.

  “It just sort of happened, Mommy,” I tried to explain.

  “No it didn’t,” she replied. “You’ve been chasing that man all your life. That’s probably why poor Robert never had a chance.”

  That might be true but I had never admitted it to her, and I wasn’t about to do that now.

  “Mommy, how could that be true?” I asked defensively. “When I didn’t even see Luke for twenty years.”

  “Whatever,” she said dismissively as if she had figured it out for herself. “I guess you got the man you want now.”

  I did; but why did I still have to be wondering for how long? It kind of felt like being on your dream vacation and wondering if your money was going to run out. Would you get stranded?

  “So can we get together for lunch in December?” I pressed, pushing down my insecurities.

  “We don’t have to,” replied Mommy coolly. “He doesn’t have to impress me.”

  “That’s not what he wants to do, Mommy. He just wants to see you again. Reconnect with you that’s all.”

  “He wasn’t connected to me in the first place.”

  “Mommy—”

  “What does Betty Sterling have to say about her son’s new girlfriend? If that’s what you are.”

  Was I? Was Luke my boyfriend? Weren’t we too old for those titles?

  “What can she say?” I answered. “Luke’s a grown man.”

  “Don’t fool yourself,” Mommy warned. “That’s still his mother.”

  I imagined Luke telling his mother about us and then immediately tried to erase the scene I had generated in my mind.

  I decided to wait until we were back in the house before I gave Mommy the other news. We were in the kitchen having cups of green tea, and she was beginning to adjust to the idea of me and Luke. It had helped learning that he had a great job and a nice house, not to mention a Mercedes Benz.

  “Well you gotta get him out of your system sometime, I guess,” Mommy said. “And at least he can take you to nice places, I’ll say that much for him. But I don’t see you as somebody’s step-mother. You’re not the maternal type.”

  “Mommy, we’re nowhere near that,” I reminded her.

  “I don’t know,” she shook her head and sipped her tea. “Some men like to be married. If the first time blows up they just jump right back in again. How long has he been divorced?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. A while.”

  “Is he seeing anybody else? From what you used to say about him, he was kind of a playboy.”

  Was he? What about Stephanie-the-teacher? When did you start talking about parameters? What if he was with Stephanie right now?

  “We haven’t talked about that yet,” I confessed.

  “You haven’t?” replied Mommy alarmed. “You mean to tell me you’re just letting him string you along? I know you’re gaga over him, but—”

  “No Mommy, it’s not like that,” I said quickly. “We just started this-this new phase. This weekend in fact. That’s why I was, uh…out-of-pocket—”

  “You were having sex with him?”

  I nodded and lowered my head.

  “For two days straight?!”

  Mostly.

  “I guess he’s still a jock,” Mommy concluded, laughing a little. “No flies on him.”

  I couldn’t believe I was talking to my mother about this. I supposed this was the part where she was attempting to be my girlfriend. Nevertheless she had delivered to me the segue.

  “Mommy, there’s something else you ought to know,” I began.

  “What he’s not Super Man?” she asked sarcastically. “He takes Viagra? Well, sweetie, he is over forty. Even Luke Sterling can’t be a stud all his life.”

  “There was a car accident,” I explained. “I mean he was in a car accident. He got hurt really badly.”

  Mommy�
��s brow furrowed deeply.

  “It was a spinal cord injury,” I went on as her expression devolved into horror. “His diagnosis…the injury level…it’s a T-12. Lower thoracic—”

  “I know what it means,” Mommy interrupted. “He’s a paraplegic?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Rachel! Is that why—”

  “It’s-it’s an incomplete. I mean the injury. He has some feeling and function—”

  “Can he walk?”

  I shook my head.

  “He’s crippled?”

  I nodded again.

  “Well that’s horrible,” Mommy said shaking her head. “I’m sorry for him. But you can’t—”

  “He’s recovered very well, Mommy. He’s independent. He works. His life is—”

  “Honey, paraplegics have all kinds of health problems. Bladder infections. High blood pressure. Bedsores.”

  “Luke doesn’t have any of those things. He’s perfectly healthy—”

  “No he’s not. He’s paralyzed.”

  Mommy got up from the table and marched off to the living room, returning to the kitchen with her big medical encyclopedia that she had used training to become a laboratory technician. She plunked it down on the table clattering our mugs of tea. Flipping the pages so roughly I thought she would tear them she came to the section of the text about spinal cord injuries.

  “Bowel and bladder dysfunction, sexual dysfunction,” Mommy read aloud to me. “What if you wanted to have children? You’re not too old, you know. What if I want a grandchild?”

  “Mommy, you and I both know that ship has sailed.”

  “Difficulty regulating heart rate,” she continued. “Blood pressure, sweating, and body temperature.”

  “I know all about it,” I said.

  “Do you?” she demanded and kept reading. “Spasticity, neuropathic pain, muscle atrophy, osteoporosis, gallbladder and renal stones.”

  “Mommy, please.”

  “That’s right, I am your mother. And I don’t want to see you ruin your life. I feel sorry for Luke. Nobody deserves that. But think about it, Rachel. That’s why Betty Sterling got you and Luke together because…well because he can’t do any better.”

  “That’s not true,” I snapped.