Authors: Florence Osmund
Daughters (14 page)
“Hold on, Miss Antsy Pants,” her father warned. “Let Marie catch her breath, okay?”
“That’s okay, Ben,” Marie said. “Just give me a minute to freshen up, Rachael. Then we’ll be off.”
The local St. Charles jewelry store didn’t do ear piercings, so they had to drive to Aurora, which Rachael didn’t appear to mind. Karen sat in the back seat, allowing the birthday girl to ride up front with Marie.
“You brought the earrings, right?” Marie asked Rachael.
“Are you kidding? They’ve been sitting by our front door ever since I got them. Dad said if I checked to make sure they were in the box one more time, he was going to take them away from me.”
“Dads are like that.”
“Marie?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you, but didn’t know exactly how.”
“You can ask me anything, sweetie.”
Rachael turned around and looked at Karen.
“It’s okay to say anything in front of Karen. There’s not very much we don’t know about each other.”
“Okay. How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-four. Why?”
“‘Cause I know the Brooks twins turned thirty last year—they had this big party—so that means you were born after them.”
“That’s right,” Marie said, afraid of where this was going.
“And Mr. Brooks is your father.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So you were born when he was married to Mrs. Brooks.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So how does that work?”
“What do you mean?”
“How was he your father and married to Mrs. Brooks at the same time?”
Marie took in a big breath. With no simple way out of this, she wasn’t going to make any excuses for Jonathan, but she also didn’t want him to lose any credibility with Rachael. Not sure if a thirteen-year-old was old enough to know the truth, she took a chance. “Rachael, Jonathan had an affair with my mother while he was married to Claire.”
“And she was okay with that?”
“Well…she didn’t know at the time.”
“I meant was she okay with that when she found out?”
“I’m sure she wasn’t, but I think Claire is a forgiving woman.”
“That’s crazy. I wouldn’t have forgiven him.”
“Don’t be so sure, Rachael.” Marie paused. “Look, relationships are complicated. No matter how perfectly matched the couple is, there will always be problems. And people make mistakes. They make bad decisions.” Marie glanced into the wide, innocent eyes of the young girl sitting beside her. “Some people say you can tell how strong a relationship is by how the couple handles their problems. I suspect Jonathan and Claire’s relationship is very strong. At least that’s what I see.”
“Marie?”
“Yes?”
“So is everything forgivable?”
“According to the Bible, everything is.”
Rachael gave her a wanting look. “But what do
you
think?”
Worried she was getting in too deep with someone else’s child, Marie took a few seconds to gather her thoughts. “I think some things are pretty hard to forgive, but I can tell you that when you do forgive someone for something, even if it’s one of those hard things, you always feel better.”
Rachael stared out the side window for the next few miles before she spoke again. “Your parents weren’t married when you were born either…like mine. Is that something you can forgive?”
“Yes. I can forgive them for that.”
“Well, I think it stinks.”
“It’s not ideal, hon, but so many things in life aren’t. In fact, most things in life aren’t. You just have to learn how to make the most of any situation you happen to be in.”
Look at who’s giving advice on this subject
.
I’ve struggled with this practically my whole adult life.
“I guess I get it.”
“Did you ask because you want to understand your own situation better?”
“Yeah.”
“These are complicated things we’re talking about. There are no easy answers.”
“I know.”
“Well, here’s the store. Got the heebie-jeebies?” Marie teased.
“Just so you know, that’s not ‘in’ anymore.”
“Oh. So are you nervous?”
“Hell, no.”
“Rachael…”
“Sorry.”
The jewelry store clerk directed them to the back room. “Have a seat, honey,” he said to Rachael. He pulled out a very long needle.
Rachael took a step back. “Whoa. Spread out! What are you going to do with that thing?”
“Don’t be afraid, Rachael. It will only hurt for a second. Do you have your earrings?”
Rachael handed the clerk her earrings.
“Now just relax,” he told her. Rachael took in a deep breath and scrunched up her face until he was done. He held up a mirror for her.
“Cool.”
“How do they feel?” Marie asked once they were outside the store.
“Weird.”
“Well, don’t fiddle with them too much. Just give them a gentle turn two or three times a day and you’ll be fine. C’mon, let’s do a little shopping before we head home.”
Marie took Rachael to a whimsical boutique she’d noticed across the street. Marie and Karen scanned the silk scarves while Rachael looked at earrings.
“You haven’t said much all day. Are you okay?” Marie asked Karen.
“I’m just taking it all in.”
Marie shot her a glance.
“How the two of you interact with each other. It’s all very…”
“What do you think of these, Marie?” Rachael asked, holding up a pair of earrings.
Marie scrutinized the long, dangly red earrings Rachael held and gave her a disapproving look. Rachael rolled her eyes and put them down. “These?” Marie glanced at the next pair, more flamboyant than the first. She didn’t have to say anything. Rachael put them down and kept looking while Marie paid for a scarf.
“If you’re going to buy a second pair of earrings, I suggest something solid gold—and conservative. Solid gold because you don’t know how your ears will react to something impure, and conservative because you don’t want your father to…shall we say, go ape?”
“Okay, I get it.”
Marie and Karen spent the following week talking about their Christmas visit. While Marie had accepted her new role as a member of the Brooks family as normal, Karen was still at the “I can’t believe this is happening to you” stage.
“How can you be so calm about it?” Karen asked her.
“Well, I wasn’t all that calm at Thanksgiving, believe me, but Christmas was different. I think it happened when we were opening presents. All of a sudden, it all felt so, I don’t know, legitimate maybe.”
“The album?”
Marie focused on the album prominently displayed on her coffee table and nodded.
“Was that a pivotal moment for her, do you think?” Karen asked, referring to Claire.
“I think so, but maybe even more so for me.”
“How so?”
“I spent the whole two weeks at Thanksgiving, and weeks afterward really, trying to read Claire. I mean, there were times I didn’t like her much, and I was sure she totally resented me. But when I opened that album and realized she had been the one who put it together, I knew that was her core. Not any of the negative stuff like I’d feared.”
“Marie, how do you think that Christmas image looked to an outsider?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was thinking if someone off the street peeked in the window, what would they have thought?”
Marie laughed. “We were quite the diverse group, weren’t we?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Marie shot her a curious glance.
“C’mon, Marie. You mean to tell me you don’t feel the least bit out of place there? Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re great people, and I’m very happy for you and all, but…”
“But what?”
“But they’re…”
“They’re what?”
“Marie, they’re different from you. You know what I mean.”
Pretty sure the wine they were drinking was causing both of them to say things they might not otherwise say, Marie didn’t let it go like she knew she should have. “No, tell me.” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t.
“Now, don’t go ape on me, like Rachael would say.”
“I’m interested in what you meant.”
“You
have
to admit you had to change just in order to fit in with them. C’mon. Otherwise, you would have felt as uncomfortable as I did.”
“I didn’t realize you were that uncomfortable. I guess it was a bad idea to invite you.”
“Now c’mon. Don’t go there. I went because of you. As a favor to you.”
“So what exactly made you so uncomfortable?”
Karen rolled her eyes. “You know darn well what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“They’re Negroes, for Pete’s sake. They’re not like us. You had to feel just a little uncomfortable being the only white person in the room…besides me, that is.”
“No,
you
were the only white person in the room.” Marie got up from her chair, walked over to the window, and peered out.
“Look, it was all sugar and spice and everything nice while you were there, but now you’re back in the real world.”
“Back in the real world where there’s bigotry, racial prejudice, and nowhere for me to fit in. You mean
that
real world?”
“Well…yes. Marie, that’s reality. Negroes aren’t accepted by whites. Don’t get mad at me. I didn’t create it.”
“I think I’ve heard about enough of your narrow-mindedness, Karen. You’re not talking about just some other people here. They’re my family, and I don’t appreciate your ignorant judgments about them.”
Karen got up and headed toward Marie’s apartment door. She turned around to face Marie. “And don’t think for a minute they weren’t judging you. That was obvious!” With that, she left.
Karen was halfway down the stairs when Marie shouted at her, “Jonathan is my father, Karen. That man could have two heads, polka-dot skin, and a bushy tail, and it wouldn’t change anything. He’d still be my father!”
Marie slammed the door shut, poured herself another glass of wine, and retreated to the living room. She sat still, staring out the window for a full minute before the tears came.
Karen didn’t get it, and if her best friend didn’t get it, who would? That is, if she was still her best friend.
Tired the next morning from a fitful night’s sleep, Marie’s thoughts went back to her argument with Karen. They had known each other a year and a half, and while Marie was very aware of Karen’s prejudices, admitted or not, they had never fought over it, or over anything for that matter. She wavered between calling her now and waiting for things to cool down.
She thought about the way Karen became so emotional in the Brookses’ home when Marie had opened the Christmas present from Claire, and then again when Jonathan opened his from Marie, and yet again when she opened her own present from Claire. If she was that detached from the Brookses, or more specifically Negroes in general, why all the emotion? Marie didn’t get it.
She hoped the fight with Karen would have positive consequences. Now that Karen knew how strongly Marie felt about accepting people for who they are instead of for their skin color or cultural background, she would give it more serious consideration, or at the very least be more sensitive to Marie’s beliefs. One thing was for sure, the last thing Marie wanted was to lose Karen as a friend.
The phone interrupted her thoughts.
“I called to say I’m sorry.” Karen’s voice was soft and contrite.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lost my temper yesterday. Maybe it was the wine.”
“Look, I did a lot of thinking after I left, and I’m not sure I’ll ever see things like you do. But there is one thing I
am
sure of, and that’s you’re my best friend, and I never want that to change.” She paused. “Can we just agree that we don’t see eye-to-eye on this and go back to being best friends?”
Marie swiped the tears off her cheeks. It was less than what she had hoped for, but heartfelt. She had to accept Karen’s apology. “Of course. I’d like that.”
“Good, because I can’t go another night with no sleep. I’m a walking zombie today. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I’ll make fried chicken.”
“You’re on.”
Later that day, when Marie arrived at Karen’s house, the two women hugged, their fight behind them.
