Wilson's Hard Lesson (49 page)

“It’s not your fault,” Erin said.  She found herself becoming
increasingly irked at her mother.  “
I
don’t understand why she never
bothered to tell me she had someone new in her life.”  She shook her head in
frustration. “No, she just had to wait to tell me, after she got married –
which is just like her, always hitting me with important news
after
the
fact, like it’s all just trivial.”  She gestured at Michael.  “When
did
you two meet, anyway?”

“Last year,” Michael said.  “I was out with my mother and she
started having chest pains.  I took her to the closest hospital, which turned
out to be Northwestern Memorial.  Marianne was on duty.  She examined her,
determined that she was in the advanced stages of heart failure, and had her
admitted.”  He tapped the table with a fingertip.  “Because of her, my mother
received a heart transplant and is still alive to this day.”

Erin snorted inwardly at this.  “So your relationship is kind
of a Florence Nightingale thing?” she asked, incredulous.

“Not really.  I spent a lot of time up at the hospital while
waiting for a new heart to come in.  One day, I asked Marianne to have coffee
with me down in the cafeteria.  We started talking, and found out we had a few
things in common.  After a month, I asked her out on a date.”  He shrugged and
showed his palms.  “We went out together for a bit, and five months ago we got
married.”

“Why didn’t she take your last name?”

“She said she wanted to keep ‘Dempsey’ because it was the
name everyone knew her by, at the hospital.  I saw no harm in it.”  He looked
around, no doubt checking to see if Mom would be returning anytime soon, before
leaning in and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level.  “And I didn’t
want to let on that we’d already met this morning, because your mom was really
looking forward to surprising you.”

“Well, she succeeded in doing that,” Erin muttered.  She
shook her head again and heaved a sigh.  “I understand, though.  You didn’t want
to steal her thunder.  That’s nice of you and I respect that.  I’m okay with
pretending that we didn’t meet until just now.”

“Thank you.”

“Just don’t expect me to start calling you ‘Dad,’” Erin said,
pointing a cautioning finger at him.  “That’s what I call my father.” 
And
besides, it would just make things even more awkward and creepy,
she added
to herself. 

Michael smiled.  “That’s fine,” he said.  “I’m just happy
that we can be friends.  I still stand by that offer to put in a good word for
you at the zoo.”

“I still might take you up on it, too,” Erin said. 
Friends,
she thought.  Okay, she could live with that…couldn’t she?  She just had to
train herself not to lust after him, to stop seeing him as attractive and start
seeing him as off-limits.  As her mother’s husband. 

Mom came back to the table.  Immediately, Erin recognized
that look of grim apology on her face. She could almost recite along with the
next words to come out of her mother’s mouth.  “I’m really sorry,” Marianne
said.  “There’s an emergency; one of my patients is having complications.  I
need to get back up to the hospital and take care of it.” 

While Erin had years of experience with this, she could see
the look of disappointment that dulled Michael’s eyes.  His smile faded for a
moment, too, but he brought it back up.  “It’s all right,” he said, reaching
out to take her hand and give it a squeeze.  “You do whatever you need to do.”

“Thanks for understanding.”  Mom leaned down.  Erin had to
look away but she could still hear the trading of soft kisses.  “You two go
ahead and have dinner.  Take this opportunity to get better acquainted.”  She
smiled over at Erin.  “Michael works at Lincoln Park Zoo, honey.  You already
have a lot in common, right there.”

Yes, I know,
Erin thought. 
That was the topic of discussion this
morning over breakfast. 
“We’ll save you the doggie bag,” she said,
cracking a joke in order to make light of the situation.  She smiled when Mom
bent over to kiss her cheek again, with lips that had just been locked with
Michael’s. 
God, kill me now.

“Call me when you’re done and I’ll come pick you up and take
you home,” Michael told Marianne.  Well, that might explain why Mom’s car had
been in the garage: Michael probably had a vehicle of his own.  He could have
dropped her off at the hospital that morning, too, before driving down to the
zoo and then walked over to the Pancake House for breakfast. 

“I will.”  Mom smiled at each of them in turn, and wrinkled
her nose in affection.  “Have fun, you two.”  And then she was gone. 

The waiter returned with the champagne and poured out two fluted
glasses.  Michael reached for his.  Gazing at the bubbles climbing upward in
the pale golden liquid, he let out a short sigh.  “I admire her devotion to her
job,” he remarked.  “But sometimes I wish she would take a break.”

Erin lifted her own glass to her lips.  “Welcome to my
world,” she murmured, and took a very large, hard swallow.

“It’s been two weeks, and it’s still creeping me out,” Erin
said to Corrine as they sat on opposite ends of a big, red velour sofa in the
living room of her friend’s Rogers Park apartment.  Erin liked the old brick
walk-ups like this one, with all the dark, natural woodwork, crown molding, and
mother of pearl inlay on the push-button wall light switches.  They had the
windows open to let in a pleasant, mid-June breeze.  Summer may have started
out unseasonably mild but every Chicagoan knew that it would not be long before
the temperature started to rise and the city would get so hot it could feel
like your shoes had become fused to the pavement.

On her second day home, Erin had shown up on Corrine’s
doorstep by way of announcing her return from California.  Corrine had screamed
so loud that neighbors on the floor above poked their heads over the
staircase’s heavy wood railing to see what had happened before calling 911.  It
had been a much better homecoming than Erin received from her mother.  The two
friends, who had met in grade school, spent the entire day together.  Erin had
told Corrine about Michael, how they met and then later how she found out he
had married her mother. 

“Mm-mm-mm,” Corrine hummed, shaking her head as she got up
from the sofa and made her way toward the kitchen, wide hips swaying.  She had
always been very large, built like a linebacker for the Chicago Bears.  When
they had first started high school, some of the upperclassmen would make fun of
them for being The Big Fat Black Girl and Her Little White Girl Sidekick. 
Erin’s Irish temper had a tendency to flare at the insults but Corrine would
hold her back, saying that physical retaliation never achieved anything, and
that keeping your chin up could be more intimidating.  Erin long admired her
friend’s deep intellect and calm manner.  Corrine had always been a wise
counsel, and Erin could count on her to be straightforward.  “I’ve said it
before, and I’ll say it again: that is some
seriously
messed-up shit,
right there.” 

“Tell me about it.”  Erin cradled her head in her hand.  “I
think I’ve done pretty good, though, at convincing myself not to think of him
as anything more than a member of the family.  Even when he’s walking around
the house in just a pair of jogging shorts, all bare-chested, with those
rock-hard thighs and calves and big biceps…God!”  She screwed her eyes shut and
beat against her skull lightly with her fist.  “Why did he have to be one of
those
sexy
middle-aged guys?  He’s eighteen years older than me, but
twelve years younger than my mom.”

“There’s a lot of social stigma about older women with
younger guys,” Corrine said.  After high school, she had enrolled at Northwestern
with a major in Psychology with a minor in Women’s Studies; now working toward
her doctorate, she found employment as a substitute teacher for middle school
students.  “Some people would call your mom a ‘cougar,’ which paints women as
predators.”  She returned with two bottles of Snapple lemon tea, and handed one
to Erin who murmured her thanks before popping the cap.  “But you don’t get
that with men.  Older guys can get away with dating younger women, even if
they’re old enough to be the girl’s daddy, and no one ever bats an eye.  This
just goes back to those days when girls as young as nine could be married off
to grown men.  Today, that would be called ‘pedophilia’ and thank God there are
laws now to protect children from that sort of thing, but that mentality is
still there, even if the girl is considered an adult of legal age for
consent.”  She tapped her temple with one thick fingertip and nodded.  “It’s
all about feeding the male ego.”

“Well, I don’t think Michael is that way,” Erin said.  “He’s
been really nice, friendly without being
too
friendly, just easy-going
and funny and relaxed.  And that was before he knew who I was.  He’s still the
same way.  He never talks down to me or treats me like a kid – it’s like age
isn’t even something he thinks about.  He gives me the same respect now that he
gave me when we first met.  And I’ve noticed that he’s the same way with my
mom.”

“Respectful of women, regardless of age.”  Corrine took a
pull from her bottle and swallowed.  “And he’s never put the moves on you?”

Erin shook her head.  “Not at all.  He’s playful, but it’s
not flirtatious.  There’s a difference.  He’s pretty devoted to Mom.  Oh, and
he
cooks
.  Did I tell you that?  On nights when Mom actually gets home
in time for dinner, he’s got a meal ready and on the table. He said his dad
used to have a restaurant and that he would help out after school and on
weekends, which is where he learned to cook.”

“Hold up,” Corrine said.  “This guy doesn’t act like a dog
around women, he’s got a great body,
and
knows his way around a
kitchen?”  She grunted in amazement.  “Damn, girl.  Your mom really scored, big
time!”

“I know, right?”  Erin grimaced.  “And you know what’s
worse?  She keeps
encouraging
me and Michael to spend time together. 
There was that night at Boka, where we wound up talking about his family’s
restaurant and cooking.  Apparently, Mom found out that he had offered to
introduce me around at the zoo in hopes of finding a job for me there – she’s
told me I should just go in to work with him and shadow him like an intern or
something.  She brought it up again this morning, and I finally had to tell her
I’d go over there this afternoon just to get her off my back.  I swear, it’s
like I’m fifteen again and she’s pushing me to decide on which college I want
to attend.”

Corrine chuckled.  “I remember that.  It’s common with
people who become fixated on their careers.  Work is their drug of choice and
they start trying to turn other people on to the high.”  She smiled and jerked
her chin at Erin.  “You think you could handle working with a guy you think is
hot, even if he is your stepdad?”

“No,” Erin said, holding up her hand.  “And please, do not
say use those words in the same sentence again.  I don’t need the reminder.”

“Maybe you should switch to taking cold showers,” Corrine
teased.

Erin reached behind her back for a throw pillow and lobbed
it at her friend’s head.  “I never should have told you about that,” she said. 

“You really need to stop letting that bother you,” Corrine
said.  “There is nothing wrong with fantasizing about someone who appealed to
you, before you knew he was married to your mom.  There’s nothing wrong with
still thinking he’s attractive.  I can look at several men in my family –
biological
relatives – and acknowledge their positive attributes.  You don’t stop saying
sunsets are beautiful just because you find out some of them are actually the
result of air pollution.  It is what it is.”

“I know,” Erin said.  “I keep telling myself that.”

“Well, don’t just say it – start
believing
it,
too.”   

Around two in the afternoon, Erin left Corrine’s place,
bound for Lincoln Park.  She had opted for a retro David Bowie t-shirt, a pair
of jeans, and some good walking shoes.  It would not be her first trip to the
zoo.  She had spent a lot of time hanging out there as a teen, taking pictures
of the animals or just sitting across from an enclosure and observing both the
beasts and the humans who stopped to look at them. 

She sent a text to Michael to let her know she had arrived. 
They had exchanged numbers at Boka, agreeing that they should have each other’s
contact information now that they were “family.”  Erin waited by the west
entrance.  She saw a machine that would stamp images on coins as souvenirs. 
She had always loved those, and had a collection of flattened pennies with
pictures of animals and the zoo’s name printed on them which she had turned
into charms for a bracelet.  Seeing a new design among the choices, she could
not resist.  She dug into her pocket, searching through a small handful of
change for two quarters – the cost to use the machine – and a penny for
stamping.

Michael showed up at that moment.  He smiled when he saw
Erin checking her coins.  “Got enough?” he asked.

“No,” she groaned.  “I only have one quarter.”

“Well, let me see if I have one.”  He stuffed a hand down
into the front pocket of his tight jeans, tongue poking out of one corner of
his mouth as he fished around.  A moment later, he held aloft an untarnished
coin.  “Ha!  I knew I had one in there.”  He offered it to her and Erin took
it.  Peering over her shoulder, he watched as she fed the coins into their
appropriate slots, chose the image, and then began to turn the crank.  The
clear glass allowed them to watch the moving gears inside.  The telltale clink
of the transformed penny hitting the exit tray concluded the process.  Michael
retrieved the souvenir and smiled.  “Ah, the emperor penguin.”  He handed over
the penny.  “One of the many animals that bears the myth of ‘mating for life.’ 
Not a day goes by where a visitor asks if it’s true that a given species takes
one partner for the duration of their lifespan.”

“And you have to destroy that romantic belief by telling
them the truth,” Erin said, smiling.

“Unfortunately,” Michael said, and dropped the penny into
her upturned palm.  “I’ve tried explaining the difference between mating for
life and monogamy, which some species
do
practice, and how for the most
part there is not one species in the animal kingdom – including Man – that does
it for any reason other than personal choice.”

“You monster,” Erin said, not without a teasing glint in her
eye.  She pocketed the coin.  “I wanted to thank you again for letting me get a
behind-the-scenes look today.  I don’t know if I’ll wind up working here, as I
think I’d be better suited to a position at the aquarium, but I do appreciate
this.”

“You’re welcome,” Michael said.  “And I’m always happy to
help.”  He hooked his fingers in the back pockets of his jeans and jerked his
head.  “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

They spent almost two hours walking, covering every
exhibit.  Michael took her into the nursery and let her meet some of their
newest additions, including a baby orangutan that she got invited to bottle
feed.  Erin could not pass up that chance.  They dressed her up in a sterile
gown, hat, and gloves, and had her sit down before they placed the little ape
in her arms.  As she held the bottle, Erin gazed down into the infant’s dark,
soulful eyes.  “If I ever have kids, they’ll probably look like this,” she
said, nodding to the tuft of bright orange hair on the animal’s head and all
over its body. 

Also dressed in protective clothing, Michael pulled up a
stool and sat across from her.  “There really isn’t much difference between the
two,” he said softly.  He reached over and offered his gloved index finger; the
orang glanced over at the extended digit before curling one little hand around
it.  Michael grinned and looked up at Erin.  “Human or animal, all babies need
the same thing: food, comfort, and protection.  And love.”

Erin looked at him.  “Have you ever wanted children of your
own?” she asked, curious to know why a man who would have such compassion for
animal husbandry would not be a father, himself.

Michael’s smile faltered a little, and his eyes took on a
kind of melancholy.  “Once upon a time,” he said.  He kept his gaze focused on
the orang.  “When I was twenty, I had a girlfriend.  She found out she was
pregnant, so we decided we would get married before the baby came.”  He
stopped, and Erin saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall along the length of his
throat.  “She had slipped on some icy steps outside her parents’ house and
wound up going into labor too soon.  The baby…our son…only lived two hours.”

“Oh, god,” Erin murmured, brows pinched together in
sympathy.  “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.”  Carefully, he extracted his finger from
the orang’s grip.  “I thought we could wait and try again later, but Laura…” 
He shook his head.  “She never really got over the loss.”  He planted his palms
on his knees and looked down at the floor.  “I found her.  In the tub.”

He did not have to say more than that.  Erin understood. 
Jesus,
she killed herself? 
She felt the urge to say “I’m sorry” again, but didn’t
want to sound redundant and really, what good would it do?  And while it had
happened twenty years ago, she could see he still felt pain over it. 
How do
you get over something like that?  It must stay with you forever…losing a
child…losing someone you loved...and then there’s the Survivor’s Guilt you
always hear about. 
“I’m…I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories,” Erin
mumbled.

“You didn’t.”  Michael lifted his head, having found his
smile again.  He inhaled deeply.  “Actually, part of the grief counseling I
received after losing the baby involved coming here and doing what you’re
doing, right now: feeding the newborns.”

“Really?” Erin chuckled, surprised. 

He nodded.  “Mm-hm.  Like I said, human or animal – a baby
is a baby, and it needs care.  Sometimes a mother will give birth but not have
the nurturing instinct, so they reject the infant.  Like this little guy,
here.  His mama didn’t want him.  We’ve been taking care of him, seeing to his
survival.  That experience led me to choose this as a career. I worked my way
through college, did my internship both here and at Brookfield Zoo.”  He shook
his head.  “Sometimes, you have to lose a life to find out how important it is
to save one.  I lost two.  I can’t tell you how many I’ve kept alive.”

Erin had often heard her mother talk about the elation she
felt after a life-saving surgery. By that same token, she had learned to tell
when Mom had failed, based on how she would come home and not speak to anyone,
just go to her bedroom and close the door.  She nodded.  “I understand,” she
said quietly.  She smiled.  “And I think what you’re doing is a great thing. 
Very admirable.”