Olive Branches Don't Grow on Trees (21 page)

“Hey
Cosmo,” Silvia said as he was about to run out the door.

“Yeah?”
Cosmo asked.

“Thanks
a lot for everything,” she said, her eyes filled with gratitude. 

She
then moped into the kitchen to make coffee and eat a bowl of cereal, while
planning her day.  She would drop Vince off at school and go straight to
work.  She would probably go back to her father’s house after work, unless
he was still raging.  She was planning to call him during her work break
to find out.  Just then, her own phone rang.  It was Frank,
remorseful, hung over, and apologetic.  “I’m sorry, Silvia, about last
night.  I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.”

She
felt like saying that she did know what gets into him sometimes and that
something was alcohol.  But she refrained.  She knew that she needed
to use the opportunity at hand to get his support for the family reunion and
she knew that she would not accomplish this feat by letting him off the hook
easy.  Instead, she needed to use this rare occasion, in which Frank was
feeling sorry, to make him feel
more sorry
than he
felt already.  And she knew just how to begin.

“Dad,
Vince is really upset,” she said.

“I
know,” Frank said. “I feel terrible.  Maybe I had too much to drink last
night.”  This was the great understatement of the year and not really
worthy of a response, so she said nothing.  Her lack of response was also
a smart tactic.  By leaving some space and silence in their conversation,
Frank’s feelings of remorsefulness and guilt would continue to escalate unless
he could say something to redeem himself.

“Just
so you know
,
I’m going to be helping him out with his
tuition.  In fact, I plan on paying for the first semester in full.
 And the second, if I can.” 

But
that was not enough for Silvia, who then said, “And the dinner after his
graduation, Dad?  What about that?”

“Yeah,
I’ll pay for that too.  I already said I would.”  He had a hint of
defensiveness in his voice, as if he might have momentarily forgotten his
rampage last night.  But still, his response was clear, and there was no
trace of reluctance in his voice.  Silvia began to think that she could
ask him for anything now, as he was so very anxious to buy his ticket to
forgiveness for his latest stunt.

“Hey,
do me a favor though,” he said.

“What’s
that?”

“Don’t
mention anything about last night to Mom.”

“I
won’t say anything to her, Dad.  
Promise.”
 

**********

When
Silvia arrived at work, she was feeling grateful for being there and for
anything that was a diversion from her life plans and her family drama.
 She was especially grateful for the box of yogurt peanut clusters that
had arrived just in time for her mid-morning snack.  She struggled with
her tired, lazy mind to keep her thoughts clear and simple for the day, but her
efforts were of little use.  Her mind continued to race and ramble
throughout the day and to fill with clutter and complication, all while she
rang up orders, filled bins with candy, helped customers, and ordered the next
candy shipment.  She was at work in body only.  Her head was filled
with questions and all of the questions wanted immediate answers. When would
Frank’s mood turn bad again?  Would it be before Vince’s graduation?
 
Or, worse, yet, during the family reunion?
 Would she be able to stay at his house until she could move to Portland?
 Or should she get an apartment with Donna in Philadelphia?  Or maybe
she should just rent a room somewhere in the area?  Should she go back to
school in New Jersey, or try to get her residency in Portland and go to school
there?

She
could not possibly answer all of these questions today.  As Vince’s
graduation was tomorrow, she decided that the reunion demanded more of her
attention presently than her life plans.  Her original enthusiasm for the
family gathering had drained out of her, like water drained from a bathtub once
the stopper is pulled.  She thought of all of the energy that had been
required to persuade her family members to be a part of the reunion. 
There was Vince, who was not keen on family gatherings and much less keen on
being the focus of such a gathering.  And then, there was Donna, who
originally suggested the whole thing and then, not only retired from the cause,
but ended up against it.  There was Angie and Cosmo, both hoping to avoid
each other for the rest of their lives.  And, last but not least of all,
there was Frank, who was an energy drain just by being.  Getting him to do
anything, especially something that he did not want to do, was a feat beyond
the capabilities of just about any person.  So her present state of
fatigue was more than understandable.  But with the dinner tomorrow, she
knew that she would have to refuel her original passion for this whole
thing.  If only she had some idea of how she could do that.

**********

When
she got home from work that night, the house was empty of people, but Frank’s
presence was there, everywhere, in every messy room, in every dusty corner, in every
space, and in every crevice.  She could feel him shuffling around the
kitchen, emptying bottles, pounding the floor with his heavy step, and slamming
doors.  She could hear his anger, guilt, and sadness stirring around
inside of him.  She could feel her own sadness mixing with his, almost as
if their combined sadness was creating a separate entity.  She would never
stop feeling sad for him now that she had realized that he had no chance for
happiness.  She had relinquished her cause of trying to save him and she
knew that he would never attempt to save himself.

She
went into her room, took the painting out of the closet, and stared at it.
 Last night, it felt complete, but tonight it felt incomplete.
 Something inside of each one of them was not coming through as much as it
could.  It was the something that was beyond their skin.  It was the
part of them that remained the same even as time moved through their
bodies. 
The part of them that was who they were.
 
She thought that if she could look at some old family photographs, she might be
able to see what was missing in each of them and then she could paint the
missing parts.  She ran into the den, opened a cabinet full of old books,
and pulled out a big box containing family pictures that had been thrown inside
as if wanting to be forgotten.

She
very slowly and carefully opened the box, almost as if its contents were under
pressure.  This box, that had been stowed conveniently away for years and
held their family memories, was bursting with emotion-- both good and bad.
 Pictures were thrown in like old playing cards, some curled, some bent,
some discolored, some streaked and faded.  A few really old, black and
white photos looked like they had been taken in Italy, or
the old country
, as the people in the
photo probably referred to it. 

The
first photo she examined was of all six of them at Stouffer’s Restaurant in
Philadelphia on one of the coldest days of the year.  Silvia had worn her
blue and white ski jacket and her new Levi jeans.  Cosmo had just turned
thirteen and, therefore, was too cool to be seen with his family.  Silvia
remembered him walking a long distance away from the rest of them for the
entire day.  Angie whined about how she wanted to shop, and did not stop
until they were finally all forced inside a Macy’s for warmth.  Donna
worried about Vince getting frostbite. Silvia only wanted to look at the tops
of all of the buildings. 
And Frank.
 
Poor Frank.
 That was one of the many days when he
blamed them all for driving him to drink.  And to his great relief,
Stouffer’s had some pretty good happy hour specials. 

There
was a photo of their spring vacation in Florida when Silvia was five years
old.  They all stayed with Frank’s friend, Joe, who he had met in law
school.  Joe had a big black mustache and talked with a slight lisp. 
He had a girlfriend, a dog, and no kids of his own, so he seemed to enjoy an
opportunity to spend time with the Greco kids.  He took Silvia out looking
for seashells on the beach every morning.  By the end of their stay, she
had wished that she could trade in her own father for Joe, or as she came to
know him, Uncle Joe.  He went with the family to Disney World, where Angie
got food poisoning on a hot dog, Cosmo got lost, and the Three Little Pigs
sexually harassed Donna.  No one could believe their eyes.  The
three, short, chubby, costumed men surrounded her, and began laughing like you
would expect short chubby costumed men to laugh-- like munchkins.  One
quickly put his pudgy little hand on one of Donna’s breasts.  Frank ran
fast and furious towards Donna and chased the little men, but never caught up
to them, as they hid themselves away in some staff-only area.  He then
divided the rest of the day between complaining about the event at the customer
service department and contemplating bringing a suit against Disney World on
sexual harassment charges.  In the end, he decided that he would not bring
a suit against them, as he always blamed such types of lawsuits for the
cheapening and ruining the legal profession.

Then
there was a photo of Frank, Donna and Cosmo taken right before Cosmo’s
confirmation.  Donna looked proud, but tired, as she did in almost all of
her pictures.  Frank looked like he could not wait to get this obligatory
thing over with.  And Cosmo had the look of dread his eyes, as if he knew
from experience what was to happen after the ceremony. Frank and Donna’s
father,
Cosimo
, got embroiled in their worst fight
yet.  And who could have foreseen that such a viscous battle would ensue
over who got the last piece of eggplant Parmesan?  Donna regretted not
making another platter, but she thought one would be plenty.  She had
fretted for many years to come and had condemned herself as the culprit for
this very unfortunate event.  The occasion also marked Cosmo’s last
presence in church, and Donna blamed herself for this, as well.  She
reasoned that, if the party following his confirmation had not been a
catastrophe because of her failure to make more eggplant Parmesan, Cosmo would
have remained a practicing Catholic.  And despite Cosmo’s various
explanations to his mother that his transformation was a long time coming, and
that it had nothing to do with the failed party, she could not exonerate
herself.

There
was a picture of Angie’s wedding before Frank’s drunken toast.  The
picture included Vince, who was eleven or twelve and looked really happy to be
there.  Who would have ever guessed that he would grow into an adult
disliking his new brother-in-law as much as he did?  Silvia was in a pink,
long, puffy dress she was forced to wear as the Maid of Honor.  And Angie
looked simultaneously radiant and panicked.  Her panic undoubtedly came
from the fact that Frank might end up making a fool of himself and dragging her
down with his foolishness.  Her fears, of course, were well justified.

There
was a photo of the summer of Silvia’s eighth year when they had vacationed at
the shore.  They rented the top level of a house in Sea Isle City. It was
a big, two-story square, painted light pink with a dark pink canvas awning, under
which Donna, Angie, and Silvia spent long, humid days sitting, reading, and
listening to the ocean.  Frank spent most of the vacation inside sleeping
in front of the television set, as he was not a fan of the sun.  Vince
built sand castles on the beach, while Cosmo sat beside him reading comic books
underneath a green and yellow striped umbrella.  At night, they walked on
the boardwalk and went to the amusement park, which was Silvia’s favorite part.
 She loved the rides that spun around, the cotton candy, and the freaky
house of mirrors.  She remembered it being a mostly mellow holiday, with
only one relatively minor explosion from Frank that resulted from the high cost
of a dinner one night.

“Jesus
Christ,” he complained to Donna on the car ride home from the restaurant. “I’d
like to know when the hell food got so God damned expensive!”

“Oh,
c’mon, Frank.  We deserve one night out at a nice restaurant.”

“Well,
that’s easy for you to say!  You’re not the one who pays the bills!
 You’re not the one who’s got to go around to all those one horse
courtrooms like a fucking dog!”  Silvia thought that, at one time, Donna
may have tried to stop Frank from cursing in front of them, but she had no memory
of her mother attempting this feat.

There
was a photo of Donna’s fortieth birthday party with everyone gathered around
the dining room table with a big, white cake with blue roses in the center.
 Angie looked busy cutting the cake and serving slices to everyone.
 Cosmo’s face had not yet turned cynical.  Frank looked only slightly
hammered.  Vince looked too young to know anything about the significance
of a woman turning forty.  In fact, he probably had no concerns at all,
except for getting the biggest rose on the cake.  Silvia was smiling big
and effortlessly like her family’s gathering was all that she needed for her
happiness.  This photo gave her a shiver and even produced a tear.
 She felt a strong desire to get inside of the picture and to be a part of
it.