Plan Bea

by Hilary Grossman

  As soon as the waitress dropped off our iced teas, my mother turned to me and said, “I know I’m twelve years late in saying this, Annabel, but I’m sorry for what I said to you in the hospital. I never should have said those horrible things.”

  I couldn’t believe I was finally getting an apology. Given how many years I had waited for this very moment, I was shocked I wasn’t feeling differently right now. I should be ecstatic but for some reason I felt sad. It was almost like I wasn’t sure I even wanted her to say she was sorry anymore. So much time has passed it was almost as if the sentiment had lost it’s meaning. Or maybe Cecelia was right. Maybe I didn’t want to let go of my anger?

  Oh how I wished I felt differently. Guilt ate at me for still being this upset. I knew how hard it had to be for my mother to finally apologize. A huge part of me wanted to slide into the booth next to her and engulf her in my arms. I wanted to hold her tightly and sob. Tell her everything was okay, that I loved her, and I was no longer angry with her. But I couldn’t bring myself to budge or say anything of the sort. Instead, I let the hurt and anger that had consumed me all this time get the better of me. I took a deep breath and sat up straight in the booth.

  “You’re right, Mother. You shouldn’t have treated me the way you did. I still can’t understand why you did. Blaming me for Brody’s death has haunted me all these years.”

  Beatrice placed her hand across her heart and said, “I was so upset. My world came crashing down. My son, my little boy died. Brody had such a promising future ahead of him. He was young, handsome, and oh so smart. He deserved a chance. He deserved a future. He didn’t deserve to be dead at twenty-one.”

  I opened a packet of artificial sweetener and poured it into my drink. I slowly stirred my iced tea with my straw. My eyes were fixed on my glass as opposed to my mother as I replied, “I know. But you weren’t the only one who lost someone special the night Brody died, Mother. He wasn’t just your son he was my brother too. You weren’t the only one grieving. My heart was breaking too.”

  Beatrice took a sip of iced tea and gently wiped her mouth before speaking. “Yes, I know, Annabel. I know how much you loved your brother. You two had always been inseparable.”

  “We were. But you didn’t answer my question, Mother. How could you have treated me the way you did? You may have lost your son, but I was your child too, not some random stranger who just happened to be standing nearby. Hell, you blamed me instead of the drunk driver who actually killed him.”

  “Annabel—”

  I didn’t give my mother a chance to speak. I had to get this out while I had the chance, after all I’ve kept silent for far too long. “You know what, Mother. I’ve thought about that night so much over the past twelve years. I’ve tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt. I often found myself wondering how I would react if something similar happened to one of my children. I can’t even fathom the thought. I can’t think of anything more horrific than losing a child, and I hate that you had to experience it. So, in a way, I guess I can understand why you needed someone to take your anger and frustration out on. And I can sort of understand why that someone was me. It was easy to do. I was right there. The driver was in jail. But it was twelve years ago. For twelve years you have blamed me for my brother’s death. For twelve years you have barely had a relationship with my family. It’s messed up, Mother.”

  My mother nodded her head. “I know it is and I wish I could go back in time and do things differently.”

  “Do you really?” I asked in disbelief. “If you had any regrets why didn’t you try change the situation before now? After all, you’ve had twelve years. You never tried to repair our relationship, and you pushed me away whenever I tried. You’ve kept me at arm’s length.” I reached for my straw wrapper and played with it in an attempt to calm my nerves and temper.

  My mother started to speak. “I’m—”

  “No, Mother. Please let me finish. I’ve tried so hard to fix our relationship, and you know it.”

  My mother glanced away from me.

  “I lost my brother and I desperately didn't want to lose my mother too. You were all the family I had left.”

  I wiped a tear away. “If you recall, I kept calling you and calling you after we buried Brody. But you didn’t want to speak to me. You not only brushed me off, you were down right nasty to me. You couldn’t care less how I was coping, if I was coping. I was an emotional wreck and you didn’t give a damn.”

  “Annabel, that’s not true,” Beatrice tried to defend herself.

  I took a sip of my drink. “Honestly, I really believe your goal was to make me feel worse than I already did. After all, why else would you have kept insisting I was a murderer?”

  “I didn’t do that,” my mother said as she shook her head.

  I pushed my glass to the side. “Do you have selective amnesia, Mother? You told me I killed my brother. Remember? You said it in the hospital. You said it at the funeral. You kept saying I was the one responsible for Brody’s death. Who says that to their child?”

  Beatrice reached into her bag for a tissue, which she used to dry her eyes. “I never should have said it. You’ve got to believe me, if I could take it back, I would.”

  “Well, you can’t. You could have righted the situation in the days and weeks, which followed, but you didn’t. Instead you just kept insinuating I was to blame. And the more you did, the more I started to believe you were right. The guilt I felt was overwhelming, it consumed me. I was unable to eat. Every time I tried, I threw up. I lost twenty pounds. Since I was only one hundred and fifteen pounds to start with you can just imagine what a picture of health I looked like. I was nothing but skin and bones. I couldn’t sleep. As soon as I closed my eyes images of how I envisioned Brody’s accident haunted me. I constantly reached for the phone. I wanted to talk to you, cry with you. Hell, I would have been happy just hearing your voice. But I couldn’t. You made it crystal clear you didn’t want to have anything to do with me. When morning finally came, I was exhausted and barely able to get out of bed. The thought of facing another day without my brother or mother was too much for me. I didn’t want to go on. I didn’t want to keep living.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. And I almost didn’t.”

  My mother gasped.

  A tear ran down my cheek as I slowly pulled up the sleeve of my shirt and thrust my arms in my mother’s face. “Look!” I demanded. “The scars have faded but they will never go away. I did this to myself. I tried to kill myself because of how you made me feel.”

  My mother put her hands on her ears. “Oh no, Annabel. I don’t want to hear this and I certainly don’t want to see it.” Beatrice said, her voice a whisper.

  “I’m sorry, but you are going to have to. You should have heard this a long time ago. But I never wanted to tell you. Not that I didn’t want to upset you. I didn’t want you to know because I was afraid you would either not care or be disappointed I failed.”

  “Annabel, you make me seem like I'm some kind of monster.”

  I wiped a tear with the back of my hand. “I’m not saying that, Mother. And I’m not trying to imply it either. I’m just telling you the facts. How you interpret them depends on your own conscience, I guess. If you’re feeling like I am making you out to be a monster, maybe you should try to reconcile why you feel this way.” I took a deep breath. “This isn’t easy for me to talk about. If it's okay with you I'd like to finish.”

  “Okay.”

  I took another sip of my drink. “It was about a month after Brody died. I didn’t go into work that day, again. I spent the day staring into space crying, again. I called you and you didn’t want to talk to me, again. In fact, it was the day you came up with the brilliant idea of having a scheduled weekly telephone call with me so you could mentally prepare yourself to hear my voice. You hung up on me in fact. Do you remember?”

  Her voice was quiet, “Yes, I unfortunately I do.”

  “As I listened to
the dial tone, I cried harder. I couldn’t handle the pain anymore. I had given up. I just wanted my misery to end. Looking back, if I’m being completely honest with myself, I wasn’t really serious about doing it. Which was why I waited until right around the time Cole was due home from work. The poor guy was so worried about me. He knew how fragile I was, but he didn’t know what to do to help me.” I rolled my eyes, “I was a really fun fiancé.”

  I took a deep breath. “Cole got home from work and he called out for me. I didn’t answer. Our apartment was small so it took only seconds for him to find me in the bathroom. I was bleeding and crying hysterically. I hated myself for what I had done. I hated that I was willing to give up a life with the man I loved more than anything or anyone else in the world because of the guilt and grief I felt. I hated myself. I just kept rocking and telling Cole I was sorry.”

  I paused as the waitress dropped off our omelets. “Cole was amazing. He didn’t get frazzled. He was so calm and reacted so quickly. He wrapped towels around my arms and applied pressure. Fortunately my exterior wounds weren’t too deep. Like I said, my attempt was definitely more of a cry for help.” I picked up my fork and moved the home fries around on my plate. “Cole rushed me to the hospital and they stitched me up. He then brought me to his parent’s house. We stayed with them for almost two months until I was more stable. I took a leave of absence from work. Connie found me a wonderful therapist who helped me immensely. She would drive me to each and every one of my therapy sessions. When I was done, she’d try to do something fun with me afterwards. She’d take me shopping, to lunch, or to a movie. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

  My mother was quiet. She was attentively listening to every word I said. But her face was unreadable. I had no idea what she was thinking, so I continued talking. “Connie and I became pretty much inseparable during this time. We were able to talk about everything and anything. And when I needed a good cry or a shoulder to lean on she was always there. She gave and gave of herself to me. It was an amazing feeling to have her just love me unconditionally. Don’t get me wrong, Cole was wonderful too, but it wasn’t the same. Cole was my fiancé. My lover. I didn’t want to constantly be an emotional wreck around him. I wanted to be the old me with him. The me he fell in love with, not the shell of the girl I had become. Connie helped me do that. She spent countless hours comforting me and helping me cope. She helped me come to terms with the guilt you inflicted upon me. Connie showered me with love and affection. She made me feel valued. Honestly, if it weren’t for the O’Conner’s I never would have made it. So many years have passed and we are just as close as we were then. There are no secrets between us.”

  I couldn’t tell if my mother smirked at my comment, but I didn’t give it much thought. I just continued with what I had to say, “I talk to Connie on the phone at least once a day. Unlike with us, it never feels obligatory on either one of our parts, Mother. The calls are spontaneous; sometimes they only last for a moment or two. Other times we can chat for hours. When I’m worried or troubled, I know Connie will console me. When the kids do something funny, I have to call Connie immediately; I know she will find joy in what my children are doing. And when I just need a friend, she is always there. It’s funny, Connie may have given birth to my husband but she became my mother in every sense of the word.”

  My mother started to cry, and I felt like a huge boulder was lifted off my shoulders. It was very freeing to finally express what I had gone through.

  “I wish you would have told me what you did before now.”

  I poked my fork in my eggs and removed a piece of broccoli. I stared at it for a few seconds before putting it in my mouth. I chewed it slowly before answering. “I wish I could have too. But I didn’t see the point; you made your feelings perfectly clear to me. You didn’t want to have anything to do with me. And I was so tired of disappointing you. After all, you almost had your wish come true. I could have been gone, but I guess I blew that too.” I buried my face in my hands.

  My mother pushed her untouched plate to the side and reached across the table and grabbed my hands. She stared deep into my eyes. “Annabel, you’ve got to believe me, I never intended to hurt you the way I did. It’s true I wanted to push you away. But I never thought my words and actions could have caused you so much pain. I should have known better. I realize that now, but I didn’t then. I was blinded by my own grief and anger. I took everything out on you, and you let me. You never once yelled back at me, so I continued to take advantage. I was a terrible mother.”

  CHAPTER 17

  AS I PULLED OUT of the diner’s parking lot, I called Cole. “How’s it going over there?”

  I felt bad I left Cole unexpectedly with the children hours ago. Don’t get me wrong, he loved hanging out with them, but I knew he planned to spend the day updating his portfolio and resume.

  “Your daughter just slaughtered me in Monopoly and your son has created the largest Lego castle known to mankind. And now they are watching a movie.” He paused, “Nicholas called me earlier.”

  I swallowed hard. Cole’s boss doesn’t usually call him on the weekend, and the last time he did it was to say he sold the firm.

  “What happened?”

  “Remember the new shopping center in Westchester we were bidding on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, the contract was signed late last night.”

  “That’s great news, right?”

  “For the firm, yes. For me, I’m not so sure. This is the first new contract since the acquisition. Eastridge will have to decide who will head it up. If I manage the project, I can breathe easy for a while. If it gets assigned to one of their guys, well, the writing is on the wall for me. Nicholas wanted to give me the heads up so that I could start working on a project plan before they make the announcement on Monday.”

  “The fact that he called you today has to be a good sign, right?” I asked, hopefully.

  “I don’t know. It could be, or he simply fears that my days are numbered and he wants to give me a fighting chance to get the gig. Either way, I’ve already started working on it.”

  “Do you need me to come home? My mother wanted me to stop by her house. She said she needed to show me something. But I don’t have to go.”

  “No, do your thing. The kids can entertain themselves while I work.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m positive. Anna, I’ve been worried. How did your mother react when you showed up at the cemetery?”

  “Much better than I expected, actually. She seemed almost happy to see me. We stayed at Brody’s grave for about an hour and then we went to a diner for lunch. Cole, she apologized for how she treated me after Brody died.”

  “Wow!” He exclaimed. “She took a huge step in the right direction. That’s wonderful. I didn’t think she had it in her. How did you react?”

  I took a deep breath. “Not as good as I should have. You know how hard it is for her to say she’s sorry or admit that she was wrong. Well, I wasn’t too appreciative. In fact I was kind of cold. I feel bad.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. A lot of years have passed. You have every right to feel the way you do.”

  “But I was bitchy, Cole. Does that make me like her?”

  “Do I really need to answer that question?”

  “I guess not,” I muttered. “I also told Bea about the night I tried to kill myself.”

  “Good for you!” Cole said tenderly. I could picture him grinning from ear to ear as he spoke. He had been urging me to tell her for a very long time, but I never wanted to. It was such a difficult thing to talk about, let alone to discuss it with the person who motivated my actions. “I’m proud of you, Sweetie. It’s about frigging time she found out. Did she take any ownership?”

  “Sort of. I really think she felt bad. Cole, I just don’t get it. She told me she acted the way she did because she was overcome with grief. I can understand she had to take her agony out on someone. I know I was an
easy target, but I just can’t understand how it took her twelve years to apologize. A part of me feels like it was too little too late. I can’t shake the feeling there was more to her actions.”

  “You may be right, Anna, but I think you need to come to terms that there most likely are no more answers to get. You need to take her at her word that she was heartbroken when her son died and that is why she treated you the way she did. Things will never change between the two of you if you aren’t open to it.”

  ***

  My mother’s silver Mercedes was already in the driveway when I pulled up to her house. For an old girl, she sure did like to put the pedal to the metal. The front door was open so I walked in.

  “Annabel, is that you?” My mother’s voice filled the foyer.

  I pressed the intercom button so she could hear me. “Yes.”

  “Good. I asked Walter to go out for a while so we could be alone. I’m in my room. Come upstairs.”

  I took off my shoes and left them by the front door. My mother had always been a fanatic about anyone walking with shoes on her beige carpeting. I remember once when I was a little girl we had a small gas leak and the fire department had to be called. My mother had the audacity to ask them to remove their shoes before inspecting the house. The expression on the firefighters’ faces was priceless.

  As I walked upstairs I couldn’t help but pause and peek in the room that used to be Brody’s. It was amazing, both Brody and my bedrooms remained exactly the same as they did the last night we slept in them. I would have expected my mother to have at least changed my room into a storage space or something.

  “Are you coming?” she impatiently bellowed.

  “Yes.” I answered and continued up yet another flight of stairs to her room, or more accurately put, her suite. My mother’s bedroom was the size of a small apartment. Of course there was the sleeping area with a king sized bed overlooking the in-ground pool in the backyard. In addition, there was a humongous bathroom with heated floors, a steam shower big enough to fit five adults, and an enormous Jacuzzi tub. Her closet ran the entire length of the house and was motorized. So with the push of a button, her inventory of designer shoes and clothes would rotate preventing her from ever having to rummage through her belongings. But my favorite part was the sitting area. It had a couch, a gas fireplace, a large wall mounted television, a wet bar, and a built in Gaggenau coffee, espresso, and cappuccino maker.