Bodies and Souls (50 page)

Suzanna Blair sat on the bride’s side near the front of the church. Mandy had babysat for Seth and Priscilla several years ago. In fact, Mandy had been their favorite babysitter for a long while, and so Suzanna had dressed her children up in their Sunday best and brought them to the wedding. Priscilla sat next to her, carefully arranging the pink folds of her frilly skirt so that they covered as much area around her as possible, and Seth sat on the other side of Priscilla, eyeing her operation, trying to decide whether to tease her or not. Obviously he remembered his mother’s warnings about the necessity of good behavior at this occasion, because he finally looked away from Priscilla and occupied himself by attempting to count the people in the church.

Madeline sat on the other side of Suzanna. Just this was their triumph. As Suzanna looked around the sanctuary at the elaborate and ingenuous flower arrangements, the pews packed with happy guests, the sun streaming through the windows, she felt a twinge of envy. She would have liked to have this. She would have liked to marry Madeline, to announce to the community her love and enduring commitment to this woman; to have their union blessed by God and man; to provide her hometown with a cause for celebration, to stand in this holy place and affirm their love through ritual and ceremony. On the other hand, and she smiled to herself, the image of herself and Madeline proceeding in state down the aisle in matching wedding gowns was ludicrous. No,
this
good old ceremony would not do, and Suzanna wished Mandy and Michael nothing but good. And she was, when all was said and done, content, even amazed, with the way things had worked out for herself.

A year ago, she and Madeline had spent weeks discussing just how it would be if they ever could move in together, and then Suzanna would spend hours in her bedroom, or if the children were around, hiding in the bathroom, crying. For it all seemed so impossible. She and Madeline could compromise like a pair of saints about arrangements of furniture and schedules; those were only superficial issues. But no matter how they might manage to work out their living together, it could never happen, because of Tom. If he suspected Suzanna of being a lesbian, then he could take the children from her, he could cause her no end of publicity and pain. Suzanna had talked with three different lawyers, and they all said the same thing: in this state the judges would rule against a lesbian mother every time, no matter what the sins of the father were.

Suzanna began to dream of Tom’s death, to long for it, because it seemed finally the only solution. But even as she longed for his death, she was ashamed of herself, because he was a good human being, she didn’t really wish him ill … still, if only he would just disappear! For weeks it seemed that her mind chased after itself like a rat caught in some bizarre and cruel maze. She could not stop her thoughts, but she could not find the way out. She was miserable. Christmas came and went, and New Year’s Eve. She and Madeline received separate invitations to parties with the message “Please feel free to bring a friend” handwritten on the invitations. They laughed with each other about what a commotion it would cause if they actually did “bring a friend,” if they did show up together. But in the end, they refused all invitations and stayed at Suzanna’s to see the new year in by themselves.

It was what they would have chosen, actually, those quiet moments by the fire with champagne and music. Neither woman cared much for parties. Still, they were acutely aware of the limitations of their situation that night. And New Year’s Day, when Madeline dressed up to go to a brunch that was being given by the head of her department, a party which she thought she really should attend even if briefly, Suzanna felt everything inside her go wild with despair. She might as well be living in Russia, she thought, or Poland, she might as well be living in some kind of institution! She charged around the house, doing laundry, snapping at the children, feeling all wrought up and crazed, until suddenly she felt something flash within her.

She bundled up the children, threw them into the car with sacks of new Christmas toys and candy to entertain them, and drove three hours to Lowell, where Tom and his new wife, Tracy, lived. She liked pretty, tiny Tracy, who was so young, and who seemed
to want to do the right thing even though she was never sure just what that was. When Suzanna arrived unannounced on their doorstep at five o’clock New Year’s Day, Tom and Tracy were still in their robes, and Tom hadn’t shaved. It was clear that he’d spent the day nursing a hangover; he had that grizzled, withered look about him. But he greeted Suzanna and the children quite cheerfully, given the situation.

“What a surprise,” he said. “Come in, come in. Happy New Year, babies.”

“Oh, goodness,” said Tracy, appearing at Tom’s side, looking wide-eyed and nervous. “Did I forget something?” She and Tom had had the children spend weekends there before, and it obviously took a great deal of effort on her part to have them. It was one thing to cater to her husband, another to a pair of energetic children.

“No, no,” Suzanna said. “You didn’t forget anything. I’m sorry to intrude on you this way—I should have called—I apologize—but I really need to talk to Tom about something. You—Tracy—you’re welcome to join the discussion. There’s no need to exclude you.”

Tracy continued to look stunned and nervous, while Tom’s tired face took on a wary, suspicious look, but they welcomed Suzanna and the children in. They settled Priscilla and Seth in front of the TV with sandwiches and milk and they gave Suzanna the tall scotch she asked for, then gathered in the living room, with the door to the den–where the TV and the children were—shut, at Suzanna’s request.

“Well, now,” Tom said when they were seated. “What’s this about?”

For a moment Suzanna was so terrified she couldn’t speak. She was trembling from head to toe, and she was furious at herself for this schoolgirl terror which had overcome her. When she finally managed to speak, she heard her voice come out an octave higher than normal, squeaky and tight. She sounded like a mouse.

“Tom,” she squeaked, “I have to talk to you about something. I have to get something clear with you. I can’t go on with my life until you let me know what you’re going to do about it.”

“About what?” Tom asked, looking puzzled. Behind him, shy Tracy had gone white with apprehension.

“About—Tom—oh,
Lord
. Tom, Tom, I’m in love with a woman. I want to live with her. All of us, with the children. In a house. And I have to know what you’re going to do about it.” She stopped then, because fear hit her in the stomach as surely as a physical blow, and her breath was knocked out of her.

She had played this scene through in her mind on the long drive over: Tom could react in so many ways, and it was certain that he would act dramatically. Would he be enraged, furious, shocked, disgusted? Would he rush to the rescue of his victimized children and play the heroic, good,
normal
father? Would he go very still and quiet and say with fierce elegance, “In that case, Suzanna, there’s really very little for us to discuss. My lawyer will be contacting yours. She could envision him ushering her out of his house with a flourish of righteous contempt.

But Tom only sat there in his blue-and-white-striped bathrobe, rubbing his hand over his stubby chin, shaking his head at her in amused wonder. Tracy, who had been just hovering, sat down with a plop on the sofa next to her husband and watched him.

“Well, well, well,” Tom said slowly. “Who would ever have thought it. Little Suzanna. So you like women.”

“Tom, I don’t like women. I love a woman. One woman. A person.”

“Well, well, well,” Tom said again. “I’m sorry if I seem a little slow on the uptake, Suzanna, but you’ve got to admit I deserve a little time to work this one through.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, smiling triumphantly, “So all along you were a lesbian.”

“I don’t think that’s quite fair,” Suzanna said, but didn’t see how she could go further. Did he really want her to review their past love life in front of his new, young, intimidated wife? That would be pointless and cruel. “I don’t think I was a lesbian all along or that I am a lesbian now. I hate
labels
. I think I am just a woman, who once loved a man and lived with him and who now loves a woman and wants to live with her. But you’ve got some power over me, Tom, because of the children. And I need to know your feelings about it—about the children.”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying,” Tom said.

“What I’m saying,” Suzanna said, and to her fury tears came to her eyes, she did feel so desperate, so caught, “is that you can cause me a lot of trouble if you want to. I suppose you have the power to ruin my life now. Oh, don’t be so
dense
. Must I spell it out to you? Because of my—situation—you can legally gain custody of Priscilla and Seth. You can force me to give them up, to have them come live full-time with you.”

“Oh, Suzanna, we would never do that!” Tracy said, eyes wide with earnestness.

The girl’s outburst made Suzanna look at her, really look at her, and she saw Tracy sitting there in her slinky red lounging pajamas and realized that here was an ally.
Tracy might look like a frail young thing, but she wasn’t stupid, certainly not stupid enough to turn her little love nest into a family bulky with someone else’s children.
Thank God for that much
, Suzanna thought, and began to relax a little.

“Do the children know about you and this other woman?” Tom asked.

“No,” Suzanna said. “They know we are friends. Close friends. They know Madeline spends the nights with me sometimes. If we move in together—well, we can’t move in together unless it’s okay with you. I can’t risk losing them if you’re going to be terrible about it. I’ll just have to not live with her. If we
do
move in together, well, I’ll tell them that I love Madeline. That we care for each other. That I like having another adult around. But I don’t think I need to go into any sexual details. They’re still so young.”

“You’ll have to tell them sometime.”

“Of course. I know that. But not quite yet. I don’t think. Well, there’s been no reason to tell them anything, yet. And if you—”

“So what is it you want from me?” Tom asked. “My
blessing
?” His voice was light, sarcastic, but Suzanna knew well enough what a stinger he could have hiding there. How had it worked out, she wondered, that this vain cynic could sit in judgment on her life, could have her happiness at his mercy? She had to look away. It would not help for him to see the anger in her eyes.

“Your blessing would be nice, actually,” she said softly. “I certainly have given you and Tracy whatever blessing I could. Where the children are concerned, I mean, and this is about the children. Tom, I’m doing everything in my power to be a good mother to Priscilla and Seth. They’re turning into happy, nice, good people. I don’t
do
anything in front of them, I never would. But it’s so nice to have another adult in the house, to share things. It’s lonely living alone, being responsible at night when the children are sick, or when I’m sick, and I’m happier, I’m a better person, knowing that there’s one person in the world who cares for me, it—”

“Oh, Christ,” Tom said. “Cut it out. There’s no need to get maudlin. What do you think I am, some kind of monster?”

Suzanna began to sob. She covered her face with her hands and leaned forward so that her forehead touched her knees. She was furious at herself for this display of emotion, of weakness, and terrified that it was happening, that this torrent of tears should overtake her now, on enemy territory. But she had been so stiff with fear during the three-hour drive over, so afraid of this moment of confrontation.

“What is the matter with you?” Tom said, annoyed, upstaged, discomfited by her tears.

Suzanna could not lift her face to his. “Don’t you see how it is for me?” She spoke through wet hands, and she wanted to say: Oh, Tom, you loved me enough once to marry me, can’t you love me enough still to wish me happiness? “I could marry any kind of dreadful man this world could produce, and still keep custody of the children. But because I want to live with a woman …”

“My sister’s gay,” Tracy said. “She and her lover spent part of the Christmas holidays with us. We’re not quite as medieval as you think.”

This announcement did make Suzanna lift her head. She stared at Tracy in amazement. Then she smiled. How she had misjudged her ex-husband’s new wife, with that ready bitterness that lay so close at hand, thinking that simply because the girl was young and pretty and went around in clothes that Suzanna could never again dream of wearing, she was also provincial and dense. There is a possibility, Suzanna thought, meeting Tracy’s stare, that as the years go by we could all end up behaving civilly toward each other.

“Look,” Tom said, “it’s fine with me if you want to move in with a woman. I don’t suppose she’s terribly wealthy? It would be awfully nice to have the child-support payments reduced, and if you’re going to have another income …”

Suzanna studied Tom for a moment to see if he were blackmailing her. “Well,” she said at last, “no, she’s not wealthy. But she does work. It wouldn’t be fair to expect her to pay any of the children’s expenses, but, Tom, let me see how it works out. Perhaps if two of us live together, sharing the basic mortgage, utilities, that sort of thing, perhaps I could do with less from you.”

That was the way it had ended, in agreement. Suzanna finished her scotch and they all talked politely about the weather and national news, careful not to mar this tenuous peace. Then Suzanna bundled the children back up and drove them home. Seth and Priscilla were confused by the quick trip to their father’s, by the fact that they didn’t stay long and this time Mommy went and talked, but in the way of all children who move through a world where so much is confusing and unexplained, they accepted it without much of a fuss. Suzanna put down the backseat so they could stretch their legs out in the hatchback, and covered them with a blanket she kept in the car, and the children slept for all three hours back. Suzanna was weak as she drove, and not quite happy, because she
was so surprised. She had badly misjudged her ex-husband, it seemed. She had forgotten, or worse, had never realized, what capacities he had for generosity and tolerance. Perhaps he was nicer than she had ever thought, and she had just not allowed those qualities to develop in him. She drove wistfully through the winter’s night, slightly hypnotized by the glare of snow and ice against her headlights, reflecting in a melancholy way on the lost opportunities in her life.