Olive Branches Don't Grow on Trees (22 page)

She
then came upon a picture of her riding her first bike at the age of four. 
Cosmo had taken the training wheels off of her little blue Schwinn, and he and
Angie ran alongside while holding onto her as she peddled.  They let go of
her when she was about half way up the driveway.  She could still remember
the feeling of exhilaration she had as she took her first peddles.  It
made her sad to remember that there was a time when Cosmo and Angie were at
least close enough to make the joint effort of helping her
learn
to ride a bike. 

The
next picture was in the kitchen during one of their Sunday dinners, which
seemed to last all day long.  Donna was wearing a red and white apron,
cooking busily and happily, and waving her arms about in a most animated way.
 This was before the day that Frank so wrongly pronounced himself a cook,
and when Donna still reigned free in the kitchen to cook her delicious dinners
that never faltered in any way.  Cosmo and Angie were sitting side by
side, as if they could stand each other, and even looked like they could pass
for friends.  Silvia was setting the table, and Vince was smiling big for
the camera and sitting next to Frank, who had one of those tired, hard-working
smiles on his face.

There
was a picture of Cosmo and Frank playing pool in the basement.  Frank was
a really good pool player.  
Even great.
 Silvia was sure that he must have loved being better at something than
Cosmo.  This may have been the only photo with just the two of them
together.  Frank looked happy, or at least, mildly content.  Cosmo
had a goofy expression on his face, and jokingly had a pool stick pointed at
his head. 

The
next photo was of one of their summer trips to Quebec.  This was the
Grecos
’ traditional family vacation, which was something
that began in Donna’s family as an outgrowth of Grandma
Tucci’s
desire to crawl up the steps of St. Anne de Beaupre Shrine on her knees in an
effort to show her complete and steadfast devotion to her faith.  Donna
decided to continue the tradition with her own family, as she grew to love
Quebec, and, in particular, Montreal.  So they all packed into their
Cadillac in late August in the early morning hours and headed up to Canada.
 They stopped only for coffee and bathroom breaks and ate whatever they
brought with them in the car, like chips, fruit, nuts, cheese, and juice boxes.
 Vince was at the center of the photo, a boy of three, wide eyed with
curiosity, seeing the world outside of New Jersey for the first time in his
life.  Silvia was beside him, holding his hand in a protective sort of
way.  She took well to the role of looking out for little
Vincie
and she almost wished that she had been able to play
the role of protector a bit longer. Vince was fiercely independent at a young
age, so much so that he often resented being helped.  Angie was standing
in front of them all, as if posing for a high fashion magazine.  Cosmo was
standing as far away from Frank as possible, undoubtedly due to having taken
such a long ride up in the same car with him.  Donna was looking straight
out at the camera, her smile taking over her entire face.  Frank did not
look angry.  Instead, he was looking at Donna, as if he was still in love
with her.  The closer Silvia looked at the photo, the more she saw.
 His eyes were filled with both love and remorse, as if to say that he was
sorry that he could not be a better husband, but that he was doing the best he
could.  If Silvia looked at any one of her family members, really looked
at them, she might see this same sort of sadness in their eyes.  If they
could all put the sad parts of their eyes together, it would equal Frank’s
eyes.  Almost as if the remorse that lived within Frank’s body had
fractionalized and was doled out evenly to each of his family members.

The
next picture was of Frank and Donna on the Steel Pier in Atlantic City, with
Donna’s face glowing brilliantly and filled with love.  The longer Silvia
stared at this picture, the
more clear
Donna’s
ambiguity towards Frank became.  Maybe her staying with him was not so
much based on fear, confusion, and sacrifice.  Maybe it was based on love
and, as Grandma
Tucci
would say, “You can’t help whom
you fall in love with.”  She undoubtedly was referring to herself and to
her daughter when she had said this, and, perhaps, to all the other people who
had fallen in love with someone who was less than the right one.  Silvia
felt a great understanding for her mother at this moment and for her confusion,
her sometimes selfishness, and other times selflessness.  It all made
sense to her now.

The
next photo was one of the only Christmases she remembered that was not
demolished by one of Frank’s usual holiday outbursts.  In the picture,
Angie and Donna sat at the piano playing carols, while the other three
decorated the tree.  Silvia remembered Frank taking the picture.  She
was looking right at the camera, smiling as bold, bright, and shiny as a newly
bloomed sunflower.  It was the same smile that was on her face in the
photo from Donna’s fortieth birthday party and a smile she that had not had in
years.  When she tried now, it made her jaws feel strained and awkward.
Only a person who was truly happy could make such a smile.  And she was
truly happy in this picture.  She
was
perfectly able to be happy in her hometown in New Jersey.  She had this
photo to prove it.  The words “you can be happy anywhere,” spoken to her
once by a friend, resounded in her head, and although these same words
previously bounced off of her, they were now penetrating her skin, and going
deep inside of her.  She suddenly felt lightness in her body and a feeling
of warmth in her stomach.  She knew now that it did not matter whether she
stayed in New Jersey or moved to Portland because happiness really had nothing
to do with anything outside of
herself
.  It never
did and it never would.  She got one of those lumps in her throat that
precedes tears.

But
instead of crying, she got up and went in to her bedroom, with her energy for
the reunion revived and stronger than ever.  She got on her computer and
sent out emails to all of her family members reminding them of the time of
Vince’s graduation party and location of the Central Cafe where the dinner
would be held.  She sent individual invites, as well as a group
invitation.  She attached maps to all the emails, even though she knew
well that they all knew just where the restaurant was, as it was in the center
of their hometown.  She did not leave room for RSVPs, thus not giving them
an opportunity to say that they could not attend, to make excuses, or to be
their usual cowardly selves.  She simply said that she had made the
reservation for a party of seven and one baby for seven on the evening of June
seventh.  ‘What a lot of sevens!’ she wrote, followed by ‘See you all
then’, and closed with, ‘Should be a great time!’  She signed her name
with the word ‘love’ which was not customary for her when sending emails, but
which she knew was absolutely essential in this case.

CHAPTER EIGHT: KEEPING THE GOOD

On
the evening of Vince’s graduation, the Central Cafe seemed darker than Silvia
had remembered it to be.  It looked as if the owners had, in these
desperate times, decided to conserve energy by keeping the lights off.
 She thought that if that was the case then they should, at least, invest
in some candles.   She was glad that she had decided to wear
something cheerful— a white and mint green dress.  A few small windows
allowed some of the setting sun to pour in, giving the room a slight glimmer.
 Just as Silvia was getting used to the darkness and thinking that the dim
light would allow the family to feel less self-conscious, a brunette lady,
dressed in red and yellow, turned the lights up.  She greeted Silvia, who
in turn told her about the reservations.  The brunette, who appeared to be
the hostess, went to check the reservations. This left Silvia alone, giving her
an unwanted opportunity to get nervous about the coming evening.

There
was still time to leave the whole scene, to weasel out.  She could
secretly use the opportunity to make her escape.  Of course, she would
never do anything like that, but she got some strange sense of comfort in the
thought of it.  This must have been what her mother felt like all the
times that she had planned holiday dinners that had a good chance of being
destroyed.  Or what Angie must have felt like on the morning of her
wedding, as if brides are not nervous enough without having to be apprehensive
about what their father might do.

It
seemed like Frank was always ruining or destroying something.  He could
not help himself.  Silvia thought that he must have been the type of kid
to stomp on another kid’s sand castle.  She recalled with sadness the time
that she and Angie spent a long, hot summer day making blueberry buckle, only
to have it thrown from the kitchen countertop while it was cooling, by none
other than the inebriated Frank.  Silvia, upon hearing the sound of
crashing glass, knew just what it was.  She ran in to look at her and
Angie’s work, splattered on the floor like the corpse of a person who had jumped
out of a high-rise building.  Being too young and stupid to know any
better, she thought it might be salvageable.  When she ran towards the
fallen dish, her mother screamed at her to get away, gripping her arm as if she
was pulling her up from a mountain ledge.  

Would
this night be a repeat of a typical holiday dinner, Angie’s wedding, or the
destroyed dish of blueberry buckle?  Or would it be different?  Why
should it?  How could she think that she was capable, somehow, of making
it different than all of the previous family occasions?  She stared at the
red neon exit sign above the door like it was her salvation.  She imagined
herself escaping the place, followed by her family members arriving,
dumbfounded, looking around, trying hard not to look at each other, growing in
discomfort, wondering where Silvia had gone, and wondering if something
happened to her, something terrible like a car accident.  She envisioned
her mother calling the police.  She got a strange kind of pleasure in
knowing the extreme guilt that they would all feel when they assumed that
Silvia, in her altruistic efforts to bring them all together, had been hurt or
worse yet, killed.  Maybe they would all gain some perspective, realize
the triteness and silliness of their fighting, and realize what is really
important in life.  Their worry, guilt, and new-found perspective might
even unite them.  Then her imagination took a very sharp turn. She now saw
family members yelling and berating her, and seeing her as nothing more than a
weak, little coward for running out on them.

This
last fantasy made her jump up and zoom
over to the
hostess, with maniac enthusiasm, and check on their reservation.  The
hostess assured Silvia that their table would be ready any minute, but Silvia
seemed dissatisfied with this assurance.  She might have given her more
specific details, like exactly how much of the table had been set.  What
about the cake that she had ordered?  Had it arrived?  Was it in the
kitchen?  She rushed back to ask the hostess about it. Silvia sensed that
the hostess was treating her as if she was a crazy lady, but did not mind it in
the least.  She was too focused on her present goal of making sure that
the dinner was a huge success.  Her little body awakened with new life,
new nervousness, and new hopes as she began walking back and forth like her
father would pace in the kitchen while cooking.  And just as she noticed
this, she looked up and saw him in the restaurant talking to the hostess and
calling her by her first name, Anna.  Frank spoke with all of the charm
and charisma that he could turn on and off like a light switch, making her
laugh
and even blush.  His eyes met with his daughter’s
eyes that returned his look with a combination of approval and admiration.
 In his return gaze, Frank’s face said, “I came through.  I did what
was right.  I’m here.”  And he was here!  In fact, he was the
first one to show up.  He was even well-dressed in a gray suit and light
blue button-down shirt.

There
was still a possibility that one or more of the others would not show up, but
Frank was here and, therefore, she had succeeded!  She felt a relief in
her stomach that spread throughout the rest of her body, all the way into her
toes and fingertips.  The rest would be cake, which Anna had then confirmed
was sitting on a counter top in the kitchen.

“It’s
carrot cake, right?” asked Silvia, still some nervousness in her voice.

“I
think so,” said Anna, who was beginning to seem almost as nervous as Silvia,
like Silvia’s anxiety had somehow spread.

“We
had better make sure,” said Silvia, biting on one of her nails.

“I’m
sure it’s carrot, and it will be great,” said Frank, who all of sudden seemed
to be taking on the role of the calm, together one.  It was a role that he
rarely was able to play and he seemed to enjoy this role.  Silvia
knew,
that in his heart of hearts, he would rather build
than destroy.  Destroying had just become a habit, and habits are, after
all, hard to break.

She
felt a sort of calm from his reassurance, and for a couple of minutes she
remained stationary and made a conscious effort to not pace or check on cakes
and tables.  Just as she began sinking into a state of calm, Donna walked
in.  Again, Silvia’s body filled with tension.  This was the first
time that her mother and Frank had seen each other since she had left him.
 Why couldn’t Angie have shown up first?  Angie would have had little
Isabella with her who would be running around and distracting everyone with her
cuteness.  Silvia wished she had sent individual emails with different
times for everyone, so as to prevent the very awkward moment. 

Donna
saw Frank, and Frank saw Donna, and Silvia saw both pairs of their eyes meet.
Their eyes reflected a wide array of feelings:  Discomfort, resentment,
sadness, love, anger, remorse, and lost hope.  Donna did what she could to
kill the awkwardness by saying “Hello Frank,” as if there was nothing wrong.
 As if she had never left.  As if he had never hurt her time and
again.  As if the big space between them did not exist.  He did not
say anything, but not because he was ignoring her.  It was almost as if he
had forgotten how to talk.  He sat there with his mouth open, gazing at
his wife, who looked absolutely lovely.  Silvia wondered how her mother’s
radiance made Frank feel.  Whenever Silvia saw an ex-boyfriend, she hoped
he would look bad.  This would give her a sense of satisfaction, as if her
leaving him was the cause of his deterioration and ruination.  If she ever
saw one looking as good as her mother looked right now, she would be miserable. 
And she saw the misery in her father’s face.  Surely, he was regretting
how much he had messed things up.  He must be kicking himself so hard
right now.  But through the self-berating, the regretting and the misery,
he finally did manage to say a hello.  It was a somber, painstaking hello,
without the mention of her name, but still, it was a hello.

Silvia
decided rather abruptly that she could not take another second of this tension
and got up to greet her mother.  As she stood up, she saw Anna, who also
just witnessed the exchange.  Silvia decided that this innocent bystander
would be a perfect distraction from the moment’s awkwardness.  She
approached Anna, like she was her long lost friend, and introduced her to
Donna.  She then turned to Donna and said, “Anna has everything under
control, so there’s no need for any worry.”  Donna did not look in the
slightest bit worried, and her daughter’s comment brought on a look of
confusion upon her face.  Silvia’s comment may not have been the only
thing making Donna confused.  She may have been wondering why her daughter
was being so
charming?
 
Like
she had suddenly inherited her father’s charm.
 Silvia had no
regard for her mother’s confusion, as she was only concerned with dispersing
some of the tension.  Anna’s presence did serve to assuage the tension,
and soon they were all involved in a conversation about her.

 It
turned out that she had just begun work at the restaurant a month ago, and that
she was going to school full time.  She was doing coursework to get her
teacher certification, and this spurred another conversation between Silvia and
herself.  Even more of the tension dissipated, as both Frank and Donna
joined in the dialog between their daughter and Anna.

“Well,
I think teaching is a great idea,” said Frank to Silvia. “Now you’re using your
head.”  He would probably continue to re-use this “using your head” phrase
with Silvia, but she did not mind it.  She did, however, notice her
mother’s eyes rolling slightly back in her head at Frank’s remark, so she did
what she could to detract from any more attention paid to her father’s comment
by saying, “I have Mom to thank for the suggestion.”  Frank looked at
Donna, his eyes still sad.

“Anna,”
yelled a stout man with a round face from the hostess stand.  Anna excused
herself, and left the three of them to wonder what to talk about next. 

“The
ceremony was nice,” said Donna, breaking the silence that seemed long.

“Yeah,
it was nice. Short and sweet,” said Silvia, smiling a nervous smile.

Frank
looked down guiltily, which led Silvia to assume that he missed the graduation
ceremony.  It would have been surprising if he had gone, considering that
he had not gone to any of their graduation ceremonies, except for Angie’s.
 And just when this assumption was cemented in Silvia’s mind, Frank raised
his head up and said, “Yes, it was nice,” leaving both his daughter and wife
with surprised expressions on their faces.

“You
went?  That’s great!”  Silvia talked to her father as if she was
commending a first grade child for answering a question correctly.  She
wondered if her father’s attendance had something to do with his guilt over
lashing out at her and Vince earlier that week.  She then noticed her
mother look at him with a new found reverence.

Silvia
looked back at her father and noticed just how tired he looked.  His worry
lines were so thick that they looked as if they were drawn on his face with a
black felt marker.  His eyelids looked so heavy, as if they were being
pushed down over his eyes against their own will.  Maybe he
was
tired.  
Tired
of fighting over nothing, tired of drinking, tired of passing out, and tired of
being tired.
 Maybe he was at a crossroad.  He was not too
old.  He still could change.

And
just as Silvia began to float into her fantasy world where miraculous
transformations of character occur, where there is no fighting, where everyone
gets along all the time and lives in harmony, Cosmo appeared in the doorway of
the restaurant.  People seemed to be showing up in the reverse order that
she would have preferred.  When Frank excused himself to get a drink at
the bar, Silvia not only understood his actions, but also had wished that she
too could excuse herself and join him in a drink.  The idea of drinking
with her father always repulsed her, as he seemed to delight in her having a
drink, and this seemed very wrong to her.  But, right now, she did not
care about his bad parenting skills.  She cared more about releasing the
tension in her body, for it was almost too much for her little self to contain.

“Hey,”
said Cosmo, entering the room as his usual self, dressed in mismatched clothing
and a fedora hat, undoubtedly to hide his wild hair.  Silvia sometimes
wondered how he could be so free of self-consciousness.  

“Hi
Cosmo,” said Frank on his way to the bar, like he had just seen his son
yesterday.

“Hey
Dad,” Cosmo said, with much of the same indifference as his father.  Then
he walked over to where his mother and sister were standing and gave them both
a hug.

“Thanks
for coming Cosmo,” said Silvia, giving him a hug.

“Sure,”
he said.  And then he just stood there and calmly stared out into the
space in front of him.  His mellow presence should have calmed
Silvia.  Instead, it made her more anxious, as if she was compensating for
his lack of nervousness by being more nervous herself.

“So
how are things, Cosmo?  I haven’t heard from you in so long,” said Donna,
hinting that she felt hurt by his apparent lack of correspondence.

“Oh,
I’m sorry I didn’t call you back last week, Mom.  I’ve been crazy busy with
work and...”  He stopped talking suddenly when he looked as his mother’s
face, like he had realized in that second how awful it must have felt to be
given that ‘busy’ excuse by your own son.  It was so rare to see any bit
of guilt in Cosmo’s face, but Silvia was seeing it now.