Chapter Twenty-Three 11 page

“It’s just that I haven’t seen you so sharp and…thoughtful.”

Her mother returned to the chair and motioned for Steph to lean closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, I mean a real secret.”

Her patience was waning. “What’s up, Mom?”

She sighed. “I just know your sense of righteousness and morality sit on a higher plane than mine does.”

“That’s not hard, Mom.”

She scowled. “Do you promise?” she asked again, her expression almost child-like.

“Okay, I promise.”

“I’m not really nuts. It’s an act,” she whispered.

She couldn’t hide her shock. “What?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my mind, Stephanie. My thoughts are crystal clear. I just pretend to be soft.”

She was stunned. “Why would you ever pretend to be mentally unfit?”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how much I get away with around here? If I jump up in the middle of bingo and start singing, they just ask me to sit down. I don’t get in any trouble. If I accidentally wander into Mr. Krumholz’s room while he’s having his sponge bath, they just escort me out with a smile. And let me tell you,” she added, “Mr. K still has a decent body and quite an attractive package.”

Steph shook her head. “This is unbelievable. You’ve been faking dementia.”

“Partial dementia,” she corrected. “I go in and out of it. That way nobody’s surprised if I have a coherent moment and I shuffle over to the TV and change the channel or if I eat Lois Pfeffer’s chocolate pudding.”

“You’re stealing food from other patients?”

“It’s not stealing. Lois never eats it. She likes vanilla. But if I were normal, I’d get in trouble for taking seconds. Heck, if I wasn’t putting on this act, you’d be getting phone calls all the time.”

“So you’re really doing me a favor.”

“Absolutely.”

Steph sighed, telling herself she shouldn’t be surprised by anything. This was Debbie the actress.

“Now, don’t forget. You promised you wouldn’t tell. I like it here, Steph. I don’t want to move into a different wing. These people need me. I’m their entertainment.”

That she could believe. “Does anyone else know?”

“Only my boyfriend, Steve, the orderly you met.”

“He really is your boyfriend?”

She smiled wickedly. “Oh, yeah. He’s packed better than Mr. K.”

“Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t believe you.”

Her mother’s playful smile vanished. “What can’t you believe, Stephanie? That I’d do whatever the hell I please? Why not? What do I gain from depriving myself? I’m not cheating anyone. I pay a lot of money every month to stay here and I’ll remind you that I’m sober.”

That was her trump card. Moving to Waverly Place had indeed dried her out.

“Is that why you came here?”

The question seemed to hurt her and she recoiled. “Partially. I didn’t know what else to do. I needed help and there was no one. I was alone and I’ve never liked being alone.” She grinned. “Just know I’m spending your inheritance. I figured that married or divorced you wouldn’t need it since you’re attached to a rich doctor.”

Steph rubbed her temples. “So what about all those times when you tell stories and you get it wrong, like the jellyfish story you told Paula?”

She leaned closer. “Threw you off, didn’t it?”

“Oh, God.”

There was a knock at the door and a timid but handsome young man approached, carrying a copy of The Sun Also Rises. His volunteer badge identified him as Sean.

“Hello, Mrs. South,” he said in an elementary school voice. “Who’s visiting you today?”

In a millisecond her mother’s expression went blank and her eyes glazed over. She pointed toward her with a quaking finger.

“My daughter.”

The fresh-faced teenager flashed a perfect smile and extended his strong hand to Steph. “I’m Sean. I’m a senior at Eugene High doing some community service. Your mom is one of my favorites. She loves to have me read to her.”

“I’ll bet she does.”

She grinned at Debbie, who turned away from Sean and stuck out her tongue.

“Your mom convinced the manager to let my swim team practice here on Saturday mornings. She’s the best.”

“How nice,” Steph said, her voice dripping with goodwill. She pictured her mother sitting out by the pool, sipping her coffee and eyeballing the hot, tanned bodies wearing only their tiny Speedos.

“Sean, could you come back in an hour? My mom’s having a really lucid moment right now and I don’t want to miss it. She’s been remembering all the wonderful times we baked brownies and strung popcorn on the Christmas tree. It’s been so touching.”

She thought Sean might cry as he nodded and headed out, shutting the door behind him.

She glared at her mother. “You’re a horse’s ass.”

“You’re probably right, Steph.” She patted her hand. “Honey, I know you’re surprised but the truth is that all of those ridiculous clichés are right. You only get one ride and you need to make the most of it. Don’t wait until you’re sixty-eight to figure it out. Now, what’s going on with you and Paula? Is she still in Eugene?”

Steph sat up straight, realizing that she hadn’t gotten away with anything—not since Debbie had arrived at Waverly Place, not in her entire life. Behind cloaks of inebriation and fake dementia, she’d watched her every move.

“Paula and I aren’t speaking right now.”

Her mother clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Again? Oh, for Christ’s sake, Stephanie, get it right this time. The woman’s loved you her entire life. You screwed it up before. Don’t do it again.”

She struggled for a response. “Maybe if I’d had a little better role modeling about relationships—”

“That’s it,” her mother said harshly, in a searing voice Steph had only heard a few times in her life. “I’ve waited long enough for you to appreciate me. It’s obviously not happened so I’m speeding the process along. I demand that you understand me!”

Steph held up her hands and shrugged. “What do you want from me, Mom? What don’t I understand?”

“That your life isn’t my fault. I’ll admit I was a lousy mother, probably unfit at times. But at some point it’s not about me anymore. I’ve barely seen you for the last seventeen years. If your life is a mess, it’s yours, baby. Whatever skills or equipment you didn’t bring to the party were my fault but you have to adapt to your surroundings. You have to adjust to your own life, and if you waste whatever time is left, you’ll regret it. So put on your big girl panties and fix it!”

She started to cough and reached for a glass of water. Once she could speak again, she smiled and said, “So how was my tough love speech?”

Steph smiled wryly. “Probably about twenty years too late.”

Her mother shook her head. “You’d never have heard me. That’s the great thing about growing older. We really do get smarter, whether we like it or not.” She stopped and looked up. “And why is that? It finally all makes sense when you’re too old to really use it. What a crock.”

“You never settled for what you had, did you?” Steph asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Settled? Are you kidding? Settling is giving up. It’s for cowards. Don’t believe all that crap on TV and particularly those TV psychologists. They act like they’re trying to help you but all they’re really doing is making you feel like shit. It’s like getting bit in the ass by a dog. And you turn around and go, Shit!” She stopped and glanced at her. “So what did you want to ask me? What sage advice can I give you?”

Steph squeezed her hand. “You already gave it to me. Thanks.”

“Good.” She pushed herself out of the chair and headed for the door. “Now, let’s get out of here. I know where the keys to the golf cart are.”

When Steph returned to Heceta, Paula still wasn’t back from Tillamook. Caroline and Rick were out at the lighthouse and the B and B was vacant. She thought of Rue and her appearance in her life. She stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for her to tell her something else but she was either ignoring her or busy thinking up new ways to taunt the guests.

Steph decided to do what she always did when her troubles weighed her down—bake. She went to work in the kitchen making another loaf of banana bread for the Steiners, unwilling to mail them one that had possibly visited the spirit world. She was immersed in flour and sugar when her cell phone rang. She answered it automatically, hoping it was Paula and disappointed to hear Lawrence’s voice.

“Stephanie? Have you had a chance to think about our situation?” No cordial greeting, just the question. It was all about the bottom line for him.

She prepared the mixer and added the flour. “I’ve thought about it but I haven’t come to any definite conclusions.”

He sighed. “I see. Well, I did have a chance to speak with my attorney yesterday afternoon and he assured me that your little peccadillo could be very costly for you, both in terms of your reputation and your financial settlement.”

“My little peccadillo? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“No, that’s what he called it, actually. And it seems that’s what Judge Witherspoon called it during one of his rulings last year. You remember Judge Witherspoon, don’t you? He’s our judge? The one granting your divorce petition and deciding on the financial award?”

She wanted to scream at his smug superiority but she said nothing and turned on the mixer. Perhaps it would shorten the conversation.

“Ah, you’re baking. How nice. I know what that means.”

Damn. She kept forgetting that he knew all of her idiosyncrasies, worries and habits. She was nervous and he would capitalize on it.

“You need to give me a final answer, Steph. Eric needs to get back to school and he wants you to come back with us.”

She set the mixer down, her hands shaking. She took a deep breath and said, “May I speak with him, please?”

“He’s not here right now. He went for a run. He said he needed to clear his head. This has been terribly confusing for him.”

She groaned. “You make it sound like he’s ten. Why in the hell did you bring him up here? He needs to finish his studies and get his diploma. He needs to be in school.”

Lawrence snorted. “Oh, he got quite the education yesterday morning.”

She gritted her teeth, wishing she could reach through the phone and strangle him.

“Steph, you need to wave the white flag and come home. I didn’t want to tell you this but Eric’s talking about not finishing. He’s really upset. He thinks you’ve lied to him—about everything. I don’t know what he’ll do next.”

Like return to drugs. She forced herself to breathe, thinking this was probably a manipulation technique. Eric knew lots of gay people. But you’re his mother.

“I need to talk to him,” she said, hearing the quake in her voice.

She heard a voice in the background and Lawrence said confidently, “He just got back. I’ll put him on.”

They exchanged the phone and she could tell Lawrence had placed his hand over the mouthpiece while he coached Eric. She scowled, knowing this wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“Mom?” His voice was subdued, questioning.

“Hi, son. Hey, we need to talk.” She hoped she sounded open and honest, which is what they’d always been with each other.

“Well, I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I don’t know what to think right now. You really shocked me.”

“I know, baby. It’s been really surprising for me, too. I need to see you.”

“How long have you been gay? Dad said something about the tennis pro. Did you have an affair with her?”

She seethed silently, her hatred for Lawrence growing by the second. “I won’t lie to you, Eric. Yes, I had an affair, a single affair. What’s happened between Paula and me was a surprise I wasn’t expecting.” She stopped and caught her breath. This wasn’t how she wanted to explain this to him. She needed to regain control of the situation. “Please meet with me. Talk to me.”

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered. “I thought we were friends, too, not just mother and son.”

Tears streamed down her face. During his months of therapy they’d worked intensely on trust issues. It was vital to his sobriety. “We are, baby. Look, can we meet and talk without your dad?”

“I’ll think about it,” he said in a voice that sounded as though he’d already made up his mind.

“Well, I was hoping we could do it soon since you need to get back.”

He acknowledged her with a small grunt and she knew there had to be some truth to Lawrence’s statement that Eric had grown ambivalent about school. “Please, son,” she pleaded.

There was silence and then muffled voices again. He’d handed the phone back to Lawrence.

“He needs more time. You’ll just have to be patient. The best thing you could do is come back with us, Steph. You’re much more likely to make headway at home and I imagine that he’ll be willing to return to school if he knows you’re nearby.”

She was sick to her stomach. She pushed away the mixing bowl and leaned over the counter, her legs buckling underneath her. The phone fell onto the counter and she heard Lawrence calling her name.

She thought of her mother’s words, ones that were easy for her to say—ones she hadn’t followed. What Steph had learned from Debbie today, what was left unsaid, was a simple fact: her mother had remained in a loveless marriage for her. John had been with someone else but she didn’t divorce him. How could she expect Steph to turn her back on Eric?

Chapter Twenty

It was still impossible to believe that John South had had a seventeen-year affair with her mother. Paula paced back and forth across the old shag carpet. She hadn’t slept at all, the bed too uncomfortable. She couldn’t understand how she’d ever stood the lumpy old mattress whose age preceded her birth. She longed for her pillowtop queen bed in Seattle. She imagined Steph laying next to her, naked, the twelve hundred thread count sheets kissing their bodies. She nearly tripped over the ottoman lost in her thoughts. She righted herself and closed her eyes for a second, willing the vision to go away.

Steph hadn’t called and Paula hadn’t found the courage to call her. Time seemed to freeze in a moment that was nearly two decades old. How many days had she stood in her grandpa’s kitchen that summer after high school, holding the receiver, her fingers ready to punch in Steph’s number—only to slowly place it back on the hook? She’d been a coward then and she was a coward now.

She continued to pace. She was a hostage in the house until Goodwill arrived to take the furniture that was left. She’d finished most of the packing after she decided that sleep was futile. It was amazing what a burst of energy and solitude could do for productivity. She’d packed almost sixty boxes and decided to abandon the rest for now. She looked around and chuckled. She wouldn’t win any awards for neatness, having randomly tossed things into boxes, leaving half a shelf or an entire corner untouched.

There were several items that sent her mind into a quandary. She’d pick something up, like the porcelain elephant her father won at the fair for her, stare at it, set it back down and then pick it up again. She decided that if an item didn’t automatically go into the box without a second thought, it needed extra consideration and she was too fatigued to decide right now. She’d need to come back to Eugene and finish the task before the house was put up for sale.

In the hour it took the Goodwill truck to arrive, she planned her departure from Eugene. She’d already scheduled another appointment with Ted but she needed to go back to the motel and settle the bill and return to Heceta once more to claim her things. She realized she’d probably run into Steph, but the idea of slipping in and out during the dead of night seemed extremely childish.

Once the cheerful and grateful Goodwill people had emptied the house of the boxes and furniture, Paula walked aimlessly from room to room, feeling as though her childhood had driven away as well with the Goodwill truck. She leaned against a doorway and cried again.

When Paula pulled up to the B and B, Caroline was finishing her gardening.

Caroline wiped her hand across her brow and left a dirt smudge. “It’s unusually warm for this time of year,” she commented. “How was Tillamook?”

“Enlightening.” Paula stuffed her hands in her pockets and her gaze landed on Steph’s BMW.

“She’s up in the lighthouse,” Caroline said, reading her thoughts. She leaned against the Malibu and folded her arms. “What’s going on between the two of you? Steph’s hardly said two words since you left yesterday and she’s spent most of her time out on the cliff. Did you have a fight?”

She shook her head. “No, we didn’t fight. She had a fight with Lawrence. He wants her back and I think she’ll go.”

Caroline looked surprised. “Really? Why?”

“Because he usually gets his way and she’s afraid of what’s between us. But mainly I think she’s worried about her son. He saw us kissing.”

“Oh. She didn’t mention that.”

Paula wasn’t surprised. She imagined that when Steph held up her lesbianism like a newspaper for Eric to read, he screamed and ran away from the headline. “I don’t think she’s strong enough,” she said.

Caroline studied her for a moment and turned to Heceta. They saw Steph inside the tower. It was clear she loved the place and felt a kinship to lighthouses—just like Francine.

Paula glanced at Caroline. “Did you know my mother stayed here?”

After a long pause Caroline replied, “I did.”

“Did you know she was with a man who wasn’t my father?”

Caroline didn’t look at her. “Yes, I’ve seen the past guest books.”

Paula knew she didn’t need to ask any other questions. She figured that Caroline and Rick had learned the value of confidentiality.

“There’s no reason to tell her,” Caroline said slowly.

“I know.”

Caroline started toward the back door but stopped and turned to face her. “Are you staying?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted to the tower. Steph looked like a princess who needed to be rescued. Her feet automatically shuffled to the lighthouse. She made her way up the tiny ladder and stuck her head through the hole in the lantern room’s floor. Steph sat in a folding chair next to the glass, gazing at the ocean.

“Do you want some company?”

Steph offered a slight smile. “Sure.”

She climbed up carefully, making certain her feet found purchase on the floor. She hesitated, unsure if she should go to her or keep a practical distance. When Steph rose and hugged herself just as she had done so many times when they’d sit on Paula’s patio, Paula stepped behind her and massaged her shoulders.

Steph exhaled and a sigh escaped her lips. “He wants me back, not because he loves me but because divorce will be far too expensive for him.”

“Wow, what a romantic guy. I can see why you stayed with him for so long.”

“It wasn’t about him,” she said quietly.

“I know. I shouldn’t make jokes. I can tell that everything you’ve done has been for Eric. He’s all that matters to you.”

“That’s right. He’s all I have.”

Her shoulders heaved and Paula knew she was crying. She bent down beside her and stroked her hair. “I don’t even have him anymore,” she said between sobs. “The one person I loved walked away from me.”

“It’s going to be okay, Steph.”

“You can’t say that. Eric was horrified by what he saw, not that he hates gay people. That’s not it.”

“No, he just never counted his mother as one of them.”

“I’m not.”

She laughed. “C’mon, Steph. Be honest with yourself. It’s like Caroline said. We’ve been all over each other since we were kids.”

She looked away. “That was just curiosity.”

“And what was it the other day? Was that just curiosity?”

“That was answering a question, one that was asked a long time ago.”

They gazed at each other until Paula kissed her softly. “I always felt like we ran away from something. Actually you ran away and I chose not to run after you. As stubborn as I am, I ran in the opposite direction.” She paused before she added in a sad whisper, “I’ve always regretted that.”

Steph shrugged. “You should’ve let go. I did. We were just kids who couldn’t explain our feelings—”

“No, I knew exactly how I felt about you. It was everything else I was unsure about—where to go to college, if I really wanted to go into public relations…”

Steph went to the window as if she weren’t really listening.

Paula shook her head and kicked at the floor. “You are one of the most brilliant women I’ve ever met. You could’ve done anything, including medicine. I understand your choice to keep your baby but that didn’t need to be the end of your dreams.”

Steph offered a condescending smile. “You know nothing about my life, remember that.”

“And whose fault is that?”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, please, Paula. We just fell out of touch. It happens.”

Paula’s face reddened at her simplistic explanation. It suddenly mattered that the record be set straight. It was important to her that they admit their true feelings, even if Steph exploded and it ruined their newly formed bond.

“I won’t let you rewrite our history,” she said fiercely. “We didn’t fall out of touch. You couldn’t deal with your feelings for me. After that last afternoon in my room, everything changed. I felt it happen. And then it all fell apart.”

She’d picked up a mirror and held it in front of Steph’s face, forcing her to see the truth she’d avoided for most of her life.

“I’m sorry,” Steph said. “I was very confused and I didn’t know what to do. I know you suffered and I’m sorry. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

Paula shook her head. “No, I don’t. This isn’t some petty issue between you and your Junior League buddies that you can smooth over with a few words. This is me, the woman who was a finger’s length from becoming your first lover.” She grabbed Steph’s wrists and pulled her against her. “What the hell happened to you? Where’s the go-getter I knew in high school?”

She exhaled. “She got up and went.”

Her anger evaporated and she released her. “How? You were the most driven and focused person I knew. How does that change?”

She shrugged. “Slowly. I didn’t realize it was happening. After Eric was born I thought I’d get back on track in just a few years, once he was in school. Then Lawrence became the chief of surgery and there was a new house and parties to plan and expectations as the chief’s wife. A few years became a few more and I still thought there was time. When I looked in the mirror I still saw me. I saw that girl who was on fire. I knew she was there. Then Eric got older and there were soccer games and PTA presidencies and volunteer work with the Junior League. I was a socialite and much was expected. Five years later when Eric was about fourteen, I looked in the mirror and I realized the girl was gone.”

She stared at Paula. “I know you don’t understand. You’ve known what you wanted your whole life and you never let anyone or anything interfere. I wish I had your vision.”

“No you don’t,” she said quietly. “Nobody gets everything she wants. I sacrificed a lot for my career and a lot of good it did me,” she added.

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never had a serious relationship because I wouldn’t give up the work—and I wouldn’t come out to my mother. I feel as alone as you, Steph. So you see we’re really very similar. We’ve both spent our lives unsatisfied, not getting what we want.”

“What is it you want, Paula?”

She offered a sad smile. “I’m not even sure anymore.” Acting on impulse, she stepped across the lantern room and gazed toward the B and B. She turned to Steph, a wicked smile on her face. “Come here.”

She placed her hand on the back of Steph’s neck and pulled her closer. Steph froze just as their lips were about to touch.

“No, Paula. I’m so sorry.”

Steph leaned against one of the enormous windows and stared at the ground. Paula knew she’d lost and her worst suspicions were confirmed.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Go back, I guess.”

“Can I ask you a question and can you promise you won’t get angry?” Steph nodded and met her gaze. “You’d already left Lawrence and moved to Heceta before I got here. Were you always planning on going back? Was this just some kind of ploy to make him treat you better?”

“No, I never could have predicted…this.”

They stood in silence, contemplating the meaning of her words. The waves hurled themselves against the shore and Paula imagined her battered heart withstanding much the same.

“Look,” Steph said brightly, “If I go back everyone wins. My problems with Eric evaporate and you can claim the inheritance and Lawrence will be eternally grateful to me. Knowing him, I’ll get some great jewelry and probably a fabulous vacation somewhere exotic, maybe Bermuda.”

She tried to sound hopeful and wildly excited and Paula knew it was her attempt at optimism but the words hurt and her eyes glistened with tears that blinded her.

“Everyone wins but you,” Paula said.

Chapter Twenty-One

Paula clambered down the ladder and Steph made no effort to stop her, even when she craned her neck and gazed at the top of the tower. Steph imagined she was the reason people like Francine loved lighthouses were because they were unique and symbolic of hope and courage. They were fearless.

She headed back toward the B and B feeling miniscule and defeated. Fear had ruled her life. Paula was right. She could’ve had Eric without Lawrence but she’d been afraid. It would’ve been crazy trying to juggle the demands of college while raising a small child but instead of meeting the challenge, she avoided it. At the time she’d rationalized that it couldn’t be done because she didn’t have the support system. Her mother couldn’t help because she was a drunk and her father was too busy helping her mother.

But that wasn’t the truth. She could’ve continued her pursuit of a medical degree but she was afraid. And she was afraid now. She knew that but she didn’t know what to do. Seventeen years had passed and she still didn’t know how to run her own life on her own terms.

“You’re pathetic,” she murmured as she picked up the pace.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Lawrence’s rented Hummer pulled up beside the Malibu and he hopped out, dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt and jacket. Seeing her on the path, he stood at the top and crossed his arms. As she drew closer, she could see the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. He knew he’d won. They’d lived together for nearly twenty years and he knew her body language and expressions.

“Why are you here and where’s Eric?” she spat.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Stephanie. To answer your first question, I’m here to take you home. I want you to come with me right now to the hotel. We’ve got plane reservations for the morning. As for Eric, he’s packing. He’s already missed three days of summer school because of this nonsense. If nothing else, I know you don’t want his studies to suffer because of your theatrics.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and gripped her body, resisting the urge to charge into him. “I never understood why he came in the first place.”

“Honestly? Because I asked him to. I knew you’d never agree to come back with me if it was just me asking. I’m sure he’d like to stay on my good side since I’ll be paying for college.”

She shook her head, still unable to believe the depth of Lawrence’s manipulative nature.

He looked around. “Where’s your little girl toy? Is she coming back to Arizona with us? She’s quite a looker.”

His hard expression dissolved into a fluid mess and his features shifted. He always looked that way whenever he eyed a beautiful woman and Paula was certainly beautiful. She slapped his face and he stepped back.

“You are absolutely disgusting!”

She turned around and went back toward the cliff, unwilling to enter the B and B with him in tow. As she approached Heceta, she couldn’t decide if she was moving toward or away from something. The wind was picking up, making each step a challenge. It was all happening too fast. Five days ago she’d been content with helping Caroline, sleeping in her little room and torturing herself once a week with a Debbie visit. Since Francine’s death her copacetic life had exploded. She’d slept with Paula and Lawrence had reappeared.

He caught up to her in less than a minute, the hike to Heceta far easier than his daily five-mile run through Phoenix. He grabbed her arm and turned her around. “Be reasonable. How will you live knowing Eric hates you? Has he called you? Will he speak to you?”

“No,” she admitted, and the tears began. “But he didn’t say he hated me,” she added between sobs.

He held her tightly and she cried. “You need to come home. You need to forgive me. I’m a terrible husband, I know, but I want it to work for us. I’m willing to go to therapy,” he said loudly, fighting to be heard over the raging wind.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 521