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Silvia was glad that Donna decided to meet her at the mall for dinner. She was starting to learn all kinds of stuff about the mall. Probably more information than she ever wanted to know about the shopping center that she had devoutly avoided for most of her life. She was very glad she had discovered the restaurant at which she was meeting her mother as it had the best French onion soup she had ever had in her life. When she got to the restaurant, Donna was sitting at a table, dressed in a plain black top and glasses, reading from an e-book reader, sipping a glass of red wine. Silvia gave her mom a hug, sat down, and began buttering a piece of bread from a basket that was in the center of the table.
“How was work?” Donna asked, turning her reader off and putting it away in her bag. Silvia responded by rolling her eyes, which told her mother that work could have been better. So her mother, instead of persisting with more questions about work, asked her daughter if she had looked any further into the possibility of teaching.
“I did. I did. And I’ve given it more thought. A lot more. And I think I want to do it,” she said, her face lighting up. “I would have to get a teacher certification, unless I opt to teach in a private school, but the pay in private schools tends to be much lower.”
“A private school would be a great way to get in, though, and see if teaching is something you really like,” said Donna, who then continued in a much more pessimistic tone with, “The only thing with teaching is that it seems like a tough field to get into these days. With all the lay-offs and such.”
“Well, I’m aware of that, but what wouldn’t be tough?” She was getting a little tired of hearing this same thing about lay-offs over and over again.
“True. True,” said Donna, as the waiter appeared at their table. He tried to look awake and alert, but Silvia could see the exhaustion coming right through his skin, and she felt empathy for him. After her mother got through with asking him several questions about the menu, she really felt for him. Silvia thought that if her mother had ever waited tables, she might be more considerate to the wait staff. She also imagined that if Donna had been a waitress, she would have been a good one. She was quick witted and had both feet planted firmly on the ground, unlike herself. She imagined the awful possibility of having to get another waitress job at some point in the future, and this prompted her to continue discussing her career plans with her mother in greater depth.
“So I’ve been considering whether to stay at home and go to school, or to move away to Portland and start school there. I keep going back and forth.”
“Home?” said Donna, like she didn’t hear anything but the word home. “I haven’t heard you call your father’s house ‘home’ in a while.”
Silvia wasn’t even aware that she had called her father’s house home, but she took her mother’s word for it. She also noted that Donna was now calling it “your father’s house,” and that Frank had been demoted, once more, in her eyes. Now she was referring to him as “your father” instead of “Dad” or even “your dad.”
“I suppose I did call it home,” Silvia said. “It has been feeling more like home lately.”
Donna didn’t seem to like hearing this and right away she said, “So, do you think you can live with your father?” She said this like she was prompting her daughter to answer the question with a negative response. This wasn’t what Silvia was expecting or wanting to hear. She didn’t want to be reminded of the harshness of the reality of living with Frank. And the most baffling thing about this comment was the fact that Donna was the person who had previously suggested that she live with Frank while attending school.
By the time Silvia’s onion soup arrived, she was so confused and depressed that her appetite had dulled and she hoped that it would be re-ignited before her soup got cold. So she did the only thing that she knew how to do to get herself out of her current state of mind. She thought about moving to Portland, which was something that was sure to give her a lift. She even blurted out, “I’m just going to move to Portland then,” knowing full well that her mother would react to this comment with disapproval.
“What do you mean? That’s crazy,” Donna said, putting down the forkful of food that was about to go into her mouth. “Like the only two options you have are living at home or moving to Portland.”
Silvia was quick to notice that her mother was now calling “home” what she had just called “your father’s house,” and she felt satisfied for this small but worthy change of language. If her mother was going to play head games with her, she would play them right back.
“What are you suggesting? That I move back to Philadelphia for the fourth time, Mom?”
“What about getting an apartment near Rowan?”
“Why would I pay to live in this area, when I can live here for free? That makes no sense.”
“Living with your father is not necessarily free.”
“Well, he hasn’t really been so bad lately.”
Donna looked at Silvia as if to say that they both knew better, and Silvia, in turn, decided that defending Frank might not be the best way to go in this instance.
“You know what I mean, Mom. If I’m going to pay rent, I may as well just move to Portland and be some place I want to be.”
Before her mother could say anything back, Silvia ate a big spoonful of soup and enjoyed it as much as she could before hearing her mother’s response.
“Well, I think you should, at least, stick with a New Jersey college so you can get in-state tuition. I think you should just put Portland out of your mind.”
“I can always get residency in Oregon and get in-state tuition there.”
“So, you’re going to put your life off for another year, while you search for a perfect place to live?” Donna said with frustration in her voice.
“Just because I’m not starting school right away doesn’t mean that I’m putting my life off. I’m still living my life.”
“I know you’re living your life, but I also know that you don’t want to spend much more time working at a job that....” Donna stopped herself abruptly and took a big sip of wine.
“That what?” Silvia asked.
“Well, you know that your candy store job is not the most rewarding kind of job for you. You know that you want to do something where you can use your artistic talents.”
Silvia knew this only too well, but the idea of committing to a place frightened her, especially a place that held so many old, stale memories. She knew that her mother could never understand how she felt. How would her mother, who had contentedly lived in the South Jersey area for her entire life, ever understand? She could tell her about things like the caged lion she saw in Arizona, but Donna would still not get it and would probably think her daughter melodramatic to use such an analogy. She could tell her about how she realized that her restlessness was tied to growing up in such a disharmonious household, but then Donna might feel guilty for contributing to her daughter’s inability to stay still. Silvia felt very far away from her mother even though she was sitting only a couple of feet away. Donna had no idea of what she felt, and stuck as she was in her cluelessness, she continued on, rather anxiously, with her plans for her daughter.
“I think you should try to start school right here in this area in the fall. Maybe we can get a two-bedroom apartment together. And, of course, I’ll pay most of the rent. And...”
“Mom,” interrupted Silva, “you work part time at a community college. How are you going to do that?” Donna looked down at her plate of food as if her feelings were hurt, and Silvia, seeing how she had hurt her mother’s feelings, said, “I’m so sorry Mom. I didn’t mean to say that. And I would love to live with you, and I think that your offer is so nice and generous. It’s just that I don’t want to add any more stress to your life, especially at a time like this.”
“It is a stressful time for me, and speaking of being stressed out, seeing your father right now would greatly add to my stress,” she said, completely changing the
course of the conversation. Silvia knew that the conversation would be heading in the direction of the family gathering before dinner was over. Donna proceeded to explain to her daughter that she thought it might be nicer if they all celebrated separately with Vince, so as to give him more opportunity to bask in his achievements.
“But I know Vince, and he doesn’t want to bask in anything,” said Silvia. “He wants to get the whole thing over with and move on. That’s why having one thing would be best for him.”
“How about if just the four of us go out to dinner-- me, you, Cosmo and Vince?”
“What about Dad and Angie?”
“Vince isn’t close to Angie and he doesn’t get along with your father. You know that.”
Of course she knew that, and she also knew that Vince would be much more comfortable with a night out with just the four of them. But the reunion she was planning wasn’t for Vince. It was for all of them. What started as a favor to her mother and a party for Vince’s graduation, had evolved into an opportunity to bring peace to her family, to save them from becoming like her parents’ families in which siblings sue and despise one another. Moreover, this reunion was for her own sake, her own happiness, and her own peace of mind. She was sure, more than ever, that if she could make peace within her family, she would have peace within herself. She would be clean and free. And she had worked too hard and too long on this endeavor, and she wasn’t about to give up now because of what she could only assume was her mother’s fear of seeing Frank.
“Why did you suggest having this party in the first place then?” said Silvia, wondering why she had not thought of asking her mother this question until now.
Donna looked down like a caught criminal and said, “When I first suggested having a party for Vince with all of our family, I didn’t feel so nervous about seeing your father. In fact, when I first left home, I kind of missed him and felt really weird living without him. Like a part of me was gone. But, then, once I got used to the peace and solitude and got used to not fighting and having to always be on guard, I realized that I’d rather be alone than with him.”
“So, was your real reason for wanting to have something for Vince’s graduation really just an excuse to see Dad?” Silvia surprised herself with this question.
Donna’s face grew indignant, her lips tightening and her eyebrows furloughing. “No. I didn’t say that. I just wasn’t so uneasy about seeing him. That’s all I’m saying. I also felt guilty about leaving before Vince was out of the house, but I must say that a lot of that guilt has assuaged since I started therapy. I now realize that what I did wasn’t only right for me, but right for everyone involved.” Her facial expression grew from one of indignation to one of pride.
“How’s that?”
“Well, say Vince meets a young woman and falls in love and things start out good but eventually, she grows rotten. And say that because of my bad example, he stays with her rather than leaving. Then I’m to blame, indirectly, for him staying put in a bad relationship.”
“What if he and this girl who’s gone rotten got counseling together and worked things out? Wouldn’t that be the best scenario of all?”
Donna wasn’t stumbled by this last hypothetical and quickly came back with, “Some people, like your father, are beyond help, and in the example I was giving, this girl was one of those ‘beyond help’ types. I guess I should have made that more clear.”
Silvia felt cheated. She was beginning to wonder if her mother’s sole intent in suggesting the party was motivated by her wanting to reunite with Frank, rather than her wanting to do something nice for her son. Now that she had begun to feel secure in not needing him anymore, she had no desire to have any kind of family gathering. This seemed malicious and selfish, and these qualities looked ugly on anyone, but most of all on a mother. She felt a very sick feeling in her stomach, and it came on just in time for dessert. She felt she had been deceived all this time about the person who lived behind her mother’s skin. She felt a big gaping hole between the two of them and could almost see the table between them falling into it.
But Donna must have seen the sadness in Silvia, who sat in front of her hot fudge sundae as if it was a plate of chicken livers, for she then proceeded to explain herself to her daughter.
“Silvie, I’m just starting to feel strong and independent for the first time since before I met your dad, and I’m afraid that if I see him now, I might weaken. It’s a fragile time. You must know what I mean.” Donna looked right into her daughter’s eyes with a sincere expression that begged for some sort of understanding.
And Silvia could understand her mother’s feelings better with this last statement. But she still felt cheated for losing her mother’s support for the reunion. She sighed one of those big, loud sighs that older, exhausted adults are inclined to make, and said to Donna, “Well that’s all good and fine Mom, but what about all the work and effort I put into this whole thing?”
Donna looked back at Silvia with surprise that hinged on shock, as if she didn’t have the slightest idea of all of the effort that her daughter had put into planning the occasion. And she, of course, had no idea. Why would she? How could she?
“I had no idea you put so much into it. I guess I didn’t realize it was so important to you,” said Donna like she had some new-found admiration for Silvia.
“Well, it is.”
“Why?”
How could Silvia answer this question? She couldn’t exactly tell her mother that the reunion was so important to her because she believed that it could save them all from becoming like the families that she and Frank had come from. She couldn’t tell her that she believed that making peace in their family might give her the peace that she needed to stay still and stop running through her life. But she could tell her that it was important to her because it would be very beneficial to Vince, and how could Donna possibly resist anything that would be for the benefit of her favorite?
“I happen to think that this would really be a great thing for Vince. I know he acts like he hates being the center of attention and doesn’t like family gatherings, but when I told him about it, you should have seen the look on his face. I haven’t seen him looking so happy since he was a little boy. He knows that I made the reservations, and if I was to go and tell him that it’s off now because you don’t want to go, how do you think that would make him feel, Mom?” Silvia was both pleased and disgusted with herself for being such a great, big liar, but she felt that she had no choice at this point.
Donna finally agreed that the dinner would be a good thing and said that she would definitely be there. Silvia thanked her mother and ate her half melted sundae with joy. But after her sundae ended, she returned to the laborious conversation. She thought about what her mother had said about not wanting to see Frank, and then she asked her mother the inevitable question: “Do you definitely plan to divorce Dad?” She looked right into her mother’s eyes as she spoke, prompting the most honest reply she could get from her.
“Probably,” said Donna. This seemed like a most lame response to Silvia, and Donna wasn’t even looking directly into her daughter's eyes when she said it. On top of that, her appetite seemed just fine, as evidenced by her taking a bite of her chicken dinner that Silvia assumed had gone cold by this time. And as if things were not tense enough, the waiter had chosen this very uncomfortable moment to come over and check in on things.
As soon as the waiter left the table, Silvia said, “You know he misses you.” She was confused as to why she was attempting to sway her mother to get back together with the person who gave her so much misery. But she wasn’t trying to get them back together. She had already decided that this wasn’t vital or necessary for their family to be at peace. She was just really upset by Donna’s callous response and wanted something more from her.
“Well, of course he does. Why shouldn’t he?” said Donna who apparently had gone through some miraculous transformation in the past month, for she was exuding confidence left and right
, as if making up for all the time that she spent moping around like a nobody. She was her own person, separate from Frank. She was somebody now. Independent, confident, and vivacious, and she had begun creating a bright new life for herself.
“You’re right Mom. Why shouldn’t he? I mean you are a pretty, super lady.” Silvia wasn’t sure what exactly prompted her to say this, but she was happy that she did, as it made her mother smile bigger than she had ever seen her smile. There was nothing strained or broken or pitiful about this smile. It was full and effortless and happy.
Olive Branches Don't Grow On Trees Page 29
