Life Is A Foreign Language (6 page)

After filling her tumbler, she returned the bottle to the fridge. She sat and ruffled her hair with both hands. “You know the cliché, ‘Time stood still?’ Well, it’s true. Time had no meaning. I turned away from the door. My first reaction was to get my passport, but I kept it in the safe and the safe was in the den. The need to seize something that would preserve my identity was irrational, a knee-jerk reaction not to drown in the pain. I grabbed my purse from the hall table, got in the car and drove to Geneva. On the way I called my lawyer to make an appointment for the next day.” She put her elbows on the table, chin on hands. “Gosh, do I wish I had a cigarette right now.”

Sophie stared at her. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t. Gave it up several years ago, but now and then I want one. Then the craving passes.” She nodded at the box of chocolates. “I’ll have one of those instead.”

Sophie handed her the box. After a moment’s indecision, Nina chose one that looked as if it might have crème filling and took a bite. She leaned back in the chair, eyes half closed. “The next day, I filed for divorce on grounds of adultery. End of story.”

Sophie, always perceptive, shook her head. “No, it’s not. There’s more, I can tell,”

Nina sighed. “You’re right, there is and that’s the really hard part.” Hiding her face in her hands, she sobbed.

Sophie sat on her haunches next to Nina’s chair and enfolded both arms around her, moving her hand against Nina’s back in a soft, circular motion. “There, Nina, cry. Let it all out.”

Nina cried hard, with long exhalations and shuddering intakes of breath. An infinite unhappiness and despair made her entire body hurt—even the palms of her hands ached. It was a letting go, a surrender of years of sorrow and disappointment and anger and loneliness.

The storm subsided, Nina’s breathing calmed. Sophie handed her a wad of tissues from a box on the table.

Nina used them as a towel to wipe her face. She shook her head, coughing. “Nothing is for free. Life always extracts a price. I worry that this will cost me more than I have the strength to bear.”

Sophie patted Nina on the back. “You’re a strong woman, but you don’t have to go through this alone.” She smiled at Nina. “I’m here, and there are others who love you, ready and willing to sustain you.”

“You’re a dear, Sophie. I’m glad I told you.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me the rest?”

“Some other time perhaps. Right now I’m wiped out.” She glanced at her watch. “It is getting late.”

Sophie stood. “Come, I’ll drive you home.”

Nina accepted the offer, too exhausted to consider walking.

Sophie drove the short distance and stopped in Nina’s driveway. Getting out of the car, she retrieved the crutches from the back seat and opened the door for Nina.

“Thanks for listening.”

Sophie held up a hand. “Don’t thank me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Nina hugged her. “Sure we are.”

She took the crutches from Sophie. “Ah, my pair of boyfriends.” Raising one of them in the air as a salute, she turned and was inside as fast as she could hobble.

Chapter 6
 

Having dredged up all those memories, Nina felt emotionally raw. In this state she likely wouldn’t be able to sleep. She made chamomile tea, hoping it would calm her, and settled in the lounge chair on the lanai, a warm, humid wind caressing her skin.

A full moon shone silvery on the smooth water of the pool, beams reflected on the lawn, making the moist grass glitter as if a myriad of gemstones had been strewn about.

Nina hadn’t told Sophie the painful part; all those years she’d lived with André, keeping it together for the sake of the children. She’d deliberately lived a humiliating lie, hiding, pretending a life that looked good only on the outside. Now, years later, she feared both Lillian and Danny would blame her for having hid the secret of their parents’ shell of a marriage. And there was the terrible possibility that Lillian would be vindictive enough to keep the twins away from her, too.

She leaned her head against the backrest and shut her eyes. Against her will, harrowing memories flooded her mind. Together, she and the lawyer had gone over her will, to make sure it was airtight in favor of the children. Her father, astute as he was, had insisted that she and André sign a premarital agreement. Financially, she was secure. After signing the papers that would end her life with André, she’d left the lawyer’s office feeling shaky and disoriented.

These practical details behind her she faced the tough part—speaking with the children. She’d preferred to talk to Danny first; of the two he would be the more understanding, and might provide her with clues on how to approach Lillian.

On her request, she met with Danny in her office at the Geneva University. Out of embarrassment for André’s behavior and consideration for Danny’s feelings for his father, she told him a pared-down version, sparing him the unpleasant details. Predictably, Danny was upset, but he was also supportive of her decisions.

He sat beside her in a visitor’s chair in front of the mock Louis XIV desk, legs stretched straight out, crossed at the ankles.

“I wish this hadn’t happened, Mami. I always thought my parents were forever. I don’t know what’s more painful … you two divorcing or that you’ll be an ocean and a continent away.” His face, normally so open, was now pinched around the mouth, his grey-green eyes reflecting the conflict he felt at hearing the unpleasant news.

“I know, chéri. If only I could spare you and Lillian, but I’ve reached my limit. I kept things to myself as long as I could, probably too long. I didn’t cause this situation—I can’t control it and I can’t change it.”

The days following the visit with her son, between packing and settling professional and private matters, Nina made time to see Danny almost every day. Her son—her little man, as she used to call him, and sometimes still did—held a special place in her heart.

After careful consideration, Nina decided it would be less painful for Lillian to hear the news in the home where she’d grown up. It was the only home her daughter had known until the day she left to marry Jean-Luc. In this house Lillian had taken her first steps, had experienced her first joys and sorrows and had grown up to be the handsome woman whose heart Jean-Luc had conquered. When unhappy or facing a problem, Lillian still gravitated to her childhood home. Nina hoped that here, Lillian would feel secure enough to be open-minded.

The memory of her encounter with Lillian was vivid, almost palpable. To keep busy while she waited for her, Nina had prepared a tray of tea and a bowl of candied ginger, Lillian’s favorite.

As soon as she opened the door for Lillian, Nina sensed this would be difficult. Her daughter was both intuitive and sensitive; Nina asked her to visit on an afternoon in the middle of the work week, an uncommon thing.

They sat side by side on the couch in the living room, facing the big screen window with a view over the garden strewn with spring flowers and bushes of forsythia that seemed to burn in their intense yellowness. It was a lovely sunny day, offset by a cornflower blue sky.

Nina cast about for the right words, realizing there were no right words, only the unpalatable truth.

“Chérie, this is difficult for me to say, and it will be difficult for you to hear, but you need to know. I’m leaving your father. I’ve filed for divorce.”

She went so still Nina wondered if she’d heard the words. Lillian stared, her eyes vacant, her breathing barely noticeable.

Reaching for Lillian’s cold, clammy hand, Nina held it between her own, wanting to sooth, to blunt the blow. “Lillian, talk to me. Chérie, say something.”

“You’re leaving Papa? When?”

“What a strange question. ‘When?’ not, ‘Why?’ I’ve signed the papers, they’ve been filed with the court. The divorce should be final in three months.”

Nina put an arm around her daughter, wanting to hold her, but Lillian wrenched free of the embrace and moved to the far corner of the couch, staring at Nina. Her face was chalky white, eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate.

“You can’t be serious. Is this some kind of mid-life crisis you’re going through?”

“It’s far worse. I found Papa in bed with some woman here at home. And it wasn’t the first time he’s been unfaithful to me. I can’t live with him after this.”

“No, Mama!” Lillian put up both hands as if to ward off the words.

Nina was taken aback.
Strange that Lillian should call me Mama, before she always called me Mami.
It was only a word, but in Nina’s mind it widened the gap between them.

“I don’t believe you,” Lillian’s voice was strident. “You’re making this up. Papa loves you; he’d never … do anything so awful.”

A wave of hot anger washed over Nina. “That’s an insult. When have I ever lied to you, to any of you? You don’t have to believe me, but don’t offend me by calling me a liar. I don’t make things up.”

“Then don’t insult Papa, or me, by giving lame excuses for a decision you’ve made behind our backs.” Lillian’s words were like a shower of arrows aimed for maximum hurt. “I suppose Danny knows about this?”

She patted Lillian’s knee. “Yes, but only for a couple of days.”

With a twitch Lillian moved out of reach.

“Calm down, chérie. Let’s talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? You want to get rid of Papa and you’ve found the perfect excuse. I guess this means you’ll scamper off to your fairyland in the sun?” Lillian shouted, her voice shrill, eyes puffy, cheeks wet with tears.

“I have to live somewhere. This is the only home I’ve known. At least in Cape Coral I have my house.”

“What kind of wife are you? What kind of mother are you? Selfish. You’re selfish and you’re abandoning me … us. I won’t talk to you, and not for a minute do I believe that about Papa.” Grabbing her overcoat and handbag off the clothes tree in the hall, she bolted, slamming the heavy front door so hard the windows rattled.

Nina jumped off the couch and run after her. “Wait, Lillian. Please wait.” But by the time she reached the door, Lillian was in her car, tires spewing gravel in the driveway.

With slow, tired steps Nina had gone back inside. The house had never seemed so quiet, so empty. She could still hear Lillian’s voice bouncing off the walls: “Lame excuses … selfish … abandoning me.”

In the balmy evening on her lanai, Nina shivered from the suffering these memories brought, her chest too tight to contain all the aloneness and remorse and sadness.

Chapter 7
 

For the next couple of days, inner turmoil lingered. Nina cried often, sobbing so hard she had to fight to catch her breath. Her damp pillow told her she’d cried in her sleep. On the rare moments when she could forget about the divorce and separation from those she loved, she felt a semblance of contentment.

During the drive to Doctor Bradbury’s office to have her ankle checked, Nina reflected that healing her ankle would be quicker than mending her heart; it would take time before she’d know real peace. If only she could lose the fear of pain. Though she was strong and courageous, there were limits to how much she could endure. It dawned on her loneliness and rootlessness were the price she now paid for living in Florida, for having left France and her children.

Talking to Sophie had helped ease the burden somewhat, but in times of unrest, work had always been the answer, and Nina figured that this held true now, too. She threw herself into writing. Trying to lighten her mood, she played jazz—Dave Brubeck, Stan Getz and other favorites. After she was through writing for the day, she reread the scenes, cutting less than usual.
Yesss! It works. This isn’t too bad.

She heard the doorbell and by the time she limped to the door, no one was there. A rectangular box with the logo “Flowers of Florida” lay on the floor. The accompanying hand-written card read, “Welcome to your new home, Mami. We miss you.” It was signed Danny, Morgan and Natalie. She held the flowers to her face, inhaling the perfume of lilacs and carnations. The expression of their love touched her, but the absence of Lillian’s name was like an empty echo.

A glanced at her watch told her it wasn’t too late to call the twins. She dialed and heard the phone ring … once, twice, and was picked up on the third ring.

A young girl’s voice sing-songed, “Allo oui.”

“Who’s this? Morgan? Natalie?” Nina knew full well who it was, but it amused the girls when she pretended she couldn’t tell their voices apart.

“Hello, Mami! This is Morgan. How are you? Are you very tanned? When are you coming home?”

Nina laughed at her boundless enthusiasm. “Hold it, chérie. One question at a time. Tell Natalie to take the other extension, so we can all talk together.”

Natalie broke in. “I’m here, Mami.” She made Nina smile. So smart, she was always a step ahead. On hearing their voices Nina could envision their faces, as if they were in the same room.

Both were tall, with slender arms and legs, their long hair the color of ripe wheat, touched with natural golden highlights. Light-skinned, they envied Nina’s ability to tan easily.

Morgan, the temperamental one, contrasted Natalie’s more laid-back, introverted and contemplative personality, but both had a lively sense of humor.

“When are you coming home, Mami?” Natalie asked. “I miss you so.”

“Me too,” said Morgan. “Tell me you’re coming soon. There’s so much I want to talk to you about.”

Whew, this hurt, but she had to give an honest answer. “I’m not coming back for a while. This is my new home.”

“What about us? When do we get to see you?”

“I can’t promise anything. But let’s plan—you’ll come to stay for part of your summer vacation. I’ll talk to Mama.”

“Can’t we come for Easter?”

“I don’t think so, chérie, it’s a short break. I’d rather have you here for a longer stay.”

Nina thanked them for the flowers, and they talked longer, Nina asking questions; the twins giggling as they shared the happenings of their lives with her.

Nina touched the picture of the girls that stood on her desk, their faces a blur through her tears. “Know that I love you both very much,” she rasped through the tightness in her throat. “I’ll find a way so that we can spend lots of time together.”