Authors: Kelee Morris
~*~
On a chilly, gray morning just before Halloween, I poured two coffees in to-go cups and Lily and I headed out the door towards campus. She complained surprisingly little about the six-block walk, buoyantly chatting about speed skating, school, and Chase. She also peppered me with questions about Magoa. Ashland told me I could share my work with her. He had already judiciously leaked information about the find. He wanted to prepare the North Koreans so they wouldn’t overreact when his article was published.
“Why couldn’t there have been real gods and goddesses?” Lily insisted after I described Brother Ferreira’s visit to Magoa. “I mean, it’s pretty arrogant of us to think the god we believe in is the only one.”
“Do you think they still exist?”
She pondered the question as we crossed a busy street and entered campus. “Sure. I mean, there’s the Dalai Lama, right?”
“I’m not sure Tibetans consider him a god. He’s more like an enlightened being.”
“I just think if there were gods, they wouldn’t be sending down lightning bolts or anything. They’d probably be right in front of us and we wouldn’t even recognize them.”
We had a little time before the meeting, so I took Lily to the library to show her the journal. Caroline laid it out on the counter for us and handed Lily the white gloves. She carefully turned through the brittle pages, staring at the ornate script. “You really translated this?”
“I’m still working on it, but yes.”
She looked up at me, impressed. “I can’t even read most of the words.”
“It’s like anything, it takes practice.”
I had her turn to the page where Ferreira had drawn the goddess symbol. She stared at it, then looked at me. “That’s freaky.”
She closed the book. “When I was little,” she said, “I used to think your tattoo was a secret message to me.”
“Really? What kind of message?”
“I thought it was your way of writing ‘I love you.’”
I smiled at her. “That’s sweet.”
“After Anna was born I was glad you didn’t get another one. That meant you loved me better than her.”
Caroline and I both laughed. “We humans like to find meaning in everything,” Caroline said.
I led Lily over to the archeology building, stopping at the office to check my mail and introduce her to Marilyn. Our secretary was surprisingly cordial to Lily, though not to me. “Dr. Stewart told me you might be putting in overtime next quarter,” she groused. “I’m going to get an earful from finance about the department budget. Make sure you turn in your time sheet every week.”
Lily and I left the office, laughing about Marilyn’s sour attitude as we headed upstairs for the meeting. “Why would she want to stay in a job for 30 years if she was miserable?” Lily asked.
“It’s comfortable. She wouldn’t know what to do with happiness.”
“I hope somebody just shoots me if I end up like that.”
We arrived at the conference room at the same time as Ashland. “Good morning,” I said with a casual professionalism. “Lily, this is Dr. Stewart.”
Ashland held out his hand; Lily took it shyly. “Your mother is a valuable addition to the department,” he said. “I think you’ll learn a great deal from her.”
We followed Ashland into the room. All the graduate students I had met that first night at the party were there. Lily and I sat between Elena and Nilima. Ashland took a seat at the head of the long conference table. “Over the next five months you’ll be cataloging all the evidence we’ve gathered about Magoa,” he said. “Unfortunately, we no longer have direct access to artifacts so you’ll have to rely on photos and our notes. It won’t be easy but I think the future of Magoa depends on this information being released. We’ll be supporting one another as a team. At the conference, I’ll be presenting my paper on Magoa, Nina will present a paper outlining what we hope will be a continued collaboration with Korean and Chinese archeologists, and Mrs. Nelson,” he said, turning to me, “will give a presentation on Brother Ferreira’s journal.”
Ashland noted the surprised looks exchanged around the table. “Brother Ferreira’s journal is the most valuable evidence we now have direct access to, and no one knows it better than Mrs. Nelson.”
Lily looked at me, impressed by my elevated position.
Nina took over the meeting at this point. I made notes for myself on my laptop. Occasionally, I glanced over at Lily. She actually seemed engaged in the conversation. Once, Elena leaned over and whispered something to her. Lily nodded in response but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
When the meeting broke up, I gathered my things and led Lily to the door. “Just a minute,” Ashland called to us. I turned, expecting him to address me, but it was Lily he was looking at. “Why don’t you sit in on the undergraduate seminar I’m teaching this morning? We’re going to discuss the relationship between ancient cultures and their gods. I think you’d find it interesting.”
I could see the surprise and appreciation on Lily’s face. I put a reassuring hand on her elbow. “Go ahead. I have some work to do. “I’ll find you after class and take you to lunch.”
~*~
I went back to the library and continued the translation. At a little before noon I trekked back to the archeology building. The seminar had just ended; students tromped down the stairs as I went up. I paused when I stepped into the second floor hallway. Lily was standing outside the classroom door, engaged in an animated conversation with Elena. The two of them laughed about something and then Lily turned and smiled warmly at me. “Hi, Mom.”
“How was the class?” I glanced inside the classroom but there was no sign of Ashland.
“Good. Dr. Stewart is such a great teacher.”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll text you,” Elena told Lily.
“Okay,” Lily replied. “See you.”
I watched Elena stroll away, my stomach tightening at the thought of my daughter and my rival forming a friendship.
“So you and Elena hit it off?” I asked Lily as we headed down the stairs.
“Yeah. She was the teaching assistant for the class.”
I noticed a mischievous smile on her face. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just so obvious she has a crush on Dr. Stewart.”
~*~
After an enjoyable lunch in the student union, I cut work short so I could walk home with Lily. As we crossed the barren quad, she abruptly remarked, “You should be an archeologist.”
“What about you?” I countered.
“I don’t know what I want to do, but it’s obvious you like it.”
“I like translating the journal.”
“You like everything about it. I could tell.”
I smiled at her teenage certainty. “I’d probably need a Ph.D. Do you know how old I’d be when I finally got it?”
She shrugged. “How old will you be if you don’t get it?”
Halloween marked the beginning of a two-month whirlwind of school and family obligations that would finally conclude on New Year’s Day. I spent almost a day working on Mackenzie’s costume. It featured zombie makeup and a bloody axe stuck into the middle of her skull. Anna created her own Hersey’s Kiss costume out of ten rolls of aluminum foil only to discover that she couldn’t fit in the car for the drive to her sleepover. Elena had invited Lily and Chase to an on-campus screening of
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
. They had only a vague notion of what to expect. I was looking forward to hearing their reaction.
Lily’s Magenta costume was a little too sexy for my comfort, but the ridiculous red wig she donned tempered the effect. I felt better when Chase showed up dressed as Brad Majors, the nerdy hero of the movie. Lily poked fun at how well he suited his character. I was impressed that he took it in stride, smiling shyly and indulging Mackenzie as she lurched around the living room attempting to take a bite out of his arm.
Lily and Elena had formed what at first seemed to be an unlikely friendship, going out for coffee occasionally and texting often. On the surface, I had little to complain about. Elena appreciated Lily’s intelligence and encouraged her to take academics more seriously. Once, I found Lily’s phone on the kitchen counter and, even though I had admonished Anna for doing the same thing, read through their messages. Lily and Elena discussed clothes, books, movies, and school. The only thing that worried me was one exchange I found:
Tell him you need time,
Elena wrote.
He’ll understand.
What if he breaks up with me?
Lily wrote back.
I scrolled backwards and forwards through their messages, and also read the many texts from Chase, but there was nothing to indicate what she needed time for.
Then I came across another, more disturbing conversation between Lily and Elena.
I wish I knew if he was seeing someone,
Elena wrote.
Maybe you should ask him,
Lily replied.
It has to be someone in the department. I just want to find out who.
~*~
Flames burned brightly from the stone fireplace in Ashland’s bedroom, making covers unnecessary. Ashland spooned me from behind; his naked body felt strong and protective. I could already feel his cock rising, even though we just finished having sex minutes before. This was definitely not a man in need of Viagra. “Maybe I should talk to her,” Ashland said. “I’ll tell her I’m not interested.”
“She’d have an easier time accepting it if you told her there was someone else.”
“I really have no choice then,” he said, nuzzling the back of my neck. “I’ll have to inform her that Marilyn and I are having a torrid affair.”
I laughed. “You might be the first thing that ever satisfied her.”
Without warning, jealousy lurched into view. “If you weren’t with me,” I asked, “would you be with her?”
“Marilyn?”
“Elena.”
“Quite possibly.”
I rolled over and frowned at him. “I’m only being honest with you,” Ashland explained. “That was who I was before I met you. Would I want to trade places with that man? Never. You’re the only one I want to be with.”
I kissed him appreciatively, but my worries expanded. “Lily and I have a fragile relationship. I don’t know what would happen to it if she found out I was having an affair.”
Ashland stroked my hair with a comforting hand. “It appears we only have three options. We could continue the way we are but be even more cautious, we could stop seeing one another for awhile and hope they lose interest, or…” He stopped there, because we both knew what the third choice was.
“What do you want to do?” I asked.
“This isn’t my decision. I’m not the one who’s at risk. But…” He moved his hand to my cheek, gently caressing it. His penetrating blue eyes met my brown ones. “I need to tell you something, Julia,” he said, his steady voice unable to mask the emotion underneath. “If you choose the last option, I have to accept it, but it will leave a hole in my life that no other woman is going to fill.”
“There’s a lot who would like to try.”
His smile made me feel like a naïve undergraduate. “I’ve given up trying to convince you how extraordinary you are. All I can tell you is that you have changed me completely, and if you ended our relationship, it would be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to face.”
“Ashland…” I closed my eyes. I needed to be brave in order to tell him this. “I need you to know, what we have is wonderful, but this relationship can’t go any further than this. I don’t want to change my whole life. Not now, and maybe not ever. If you want to be with me, then you need to accept that.”
He was silent for a few moments, but I could tell from his slow inhales and exhales that he was thinking deeply. “Julia,” he finally said, “you’ve always made that clear. At first, it made things easier. Now, I don’t know. All I can do is promise to be honest with you about my feelings and we’ll take it from there.”
“I’ll be honest with you too,” I said.
“Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do my best to give it to you.”
I kissed him again, this time more deeply. “Right now, to be totally honest, I just want you to fuck me.”
“That, I can definitely oblige.”
When he walked me to the garage that afternoon, we indulged in one last lingering kiss. As if in response, snow began to fall. Neither of us knew that it would be three weeks and two days before we had sex again.
~*~
I stood at the kitchen window, my hands clasping my warm coffee cup, watching the fragile flakes drift downwards until they reached the grass, lingering a moment as if hopeful they could take up semi-permanent residence. But they inevitably melted, only to be replaced by their kin.
The cold and the encroaching darkness made me feel melancholy. During the past two months, my life had reached what felt like an almost perfect balance between family, work, and once or twice weekly bouts of raucous sex. But I knew that change was inevitable. Family obligations were already taking over my life. Then, as soon as the school break was over, the Magoa project would kick into high gear as we prepared for the conference. I was already working as many extra hours as I could. All the graduate students were doing the same.
Lily interrupted my thoughts when she strolled into the kitchen wearing a brown leather skirt too short for school or the weather. ‘Where’d you get that?” I asked.
“Elena,” Lily responded as she retrieved a to-go cup from the cabinet.
I frowned as I watched Lily stretch to reach the upper shelf. The skirt barely covered her rear end. “Elena bought you clothes?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Loaned.”
I nodded, disguising my concern. “You guys have gotten to be pretty good friends.”
“It’s not like we’re dating,” she said. She poured too much coffee into the cup so that it overflowed.
“You’d tell me if you were?” I joked.
She sipped the excess off the top, but didn’t bother to wipe up the dark puddle on the counter. “Probably not.”
~*~
On Tuesday, Ashland began a series of closed-circuit conferences with professors in the department and his contacts in Seoul and Beijing. Pyongyang had a mostly positive reaction after an interview with Ashland appeared in the
New York Times
. He played down the matriarchy and didn’t mention the goddess at all. Instead, Ashland emphasized the country’s rich cultural heritage, declaring Magoa “one of the most important finds in the last 20 years.” For the moment, rumors that Magoa would be bulldozed subsided. But Ashland knew well the volatility of the North Korean regime. When he presented his findings in April, everything could change.
Ashland shared his fears in late night emails to my secret account.
If it meant saving history,
he wrote,
the Magoa paper would stay buried in the bottom of my desk drawer. The problem is, I don’t know the best way forward.
While Ashland continued to engage in tense international diplomacy, I had to confront domestic issues. Fifteen years ago, when Lily was still a toddler, Matt and I had negotiated a Thanksgiving treaty with our families. Every year, dinner would rotate between us, Matt’s brother Geoff and his family, their parents, and mine. Even after my dad died and my mother began relying more on frozen dinners and the local diner she and her church friends frequented, she still insisted on taking her turn as Thanksgiving host. This was her year, and we were scheduled to leave Wednesday morning for the 250-mile drive to my hometown.
“Can CC come?” Mackenzie asked as she watched me load a cooler with side dishes. I wanted to have as much prepared as possible so I wouldn’t have to battle for counter space in my mother’s kitchen.
“You know your grandma doesn’t like animals in the house. Isabelle will be here to take care of her.”
“But she could eat all the food we dropped.”
“That’s exactly why she doesn’t like animals in her house.”
We were only two hours behind schedule when Matt pulled our eight-year-old minivan out of the driveway. For most of the trip, Lily and Anna buried their heads in their phones while Mackenzie watched a movie on the iPad. With them occupied, it was a chance for Matt and me to talk.
“I’m going to ask Isabelle to do more afterschool care when break is over,” I said. “Things are going to get crazy until the conference in April. I have to go over every word of my translation and prepare a talk on it.”
He nodded, but he looked unconvinced. “Are you sure you want to devote this much time to a job that’s not much over minimum wage and ends in June?”
“This is a big honor, Matt. Dr. Stewart had to get permission for me to even attend the conference.”
“But what happens after June? Are you going to get more translation work?”
I hesitated a moment. Originally I had thought that would be the easiest and most logical career course, but I doubted that any translation work would be as satisfying as Brother Ferreira’s journal. Lately, thanks to Lily’s off-hand remark and Ashland’s encouragement, I had been considering pursuing a longer, more arduous, but ultimately more satisfying route. “Actually, I’m thinking of going back to school,” I said.
“For what?”
“A Ph.D. in Archeology.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “That seems like a big commitment. Are there even jobs in the field?”
“I don’t know, Matt,” I said a little testily. “I haven’t gotten that far. I’ve barely thought past Thanksgiving. It’s just an idea.”
“I just think with the kids still in school—”
“I’ve thought about the kids. I’ve thought about everything. Everything but myself.”
“No arguing until we sit down at the dinner table,” Anna interrupted.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I told Matt and the girls. “These family gatherings make me irritable.”
“They make everyone irritable,” Lily piped up. “So why do we do it?”
“Because we love each other so much we can barely stand it,” Matt joked.
~*~
I sat on a twin bed in what used to be my room, though the only other evidence that a child had inhabited it was the pink lace curtains that still hung in the windows. A sewing machine sat on a table that took up most of the rest of the space, surrounded by patterns for dresses and pantsuits that were in fashion during the Reagan administration. My mother loved to sew when I was growing up, but it appeared as if it had been a long time since she had allowed herself to indulge her hobby.
Matt and I would have to squeeze into this bed for the long weekend. Matt and Geoff’s parents had the spare bedroom. Geoff and Carol were on a blowup mattress in the basement. The kids were ensconced on the living room sofa and floor. This had seemed fine in past years, but at 14, the girls’ cousin Erik had hit adolescence with both barrels firing. Gangly, with a face full of pimples, I could tell by his teasing and the way he watched Lily when she left the room that he no longer saw her as his annoying older cousin. I whispered a warning to her to make sure she was fully covered when he was around.
“Sorry, I forgot my burka,” she shot back.
Downstairs, I could hear the banging of pots and pans and quiet chatter between my mother-in-law Nadine, Carol, and my mother. I should have been downstairs helping them, but I needed a few moments alone. I pulled out my phone and logged into my secret account. It sent a little thrill through me when I saw a message in my in-box.
Happy Thanksgiving. Wish you were here.
Ashland was hosting an annual Thanksgiving feast for his homeless graduate students who hailed from countries where the holiday was as foreign as the Fourth of July. Elena would be there and I didn’t like it.
So do I,
I wrote back.
How’s Elena?
I didn’t mind sounding jealous, because I was.
I was surprised to get a response almost immediately.
Drunk already. I’m hiding in the kitchen, making crème Brule and strong coffee.
Don’t forget how much you want me.