Bygones (8 page)

Ignoring the work that needed attention, she leaned forward and dialed Lisa's number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey, it's Mom.”

“Oh, hi, Mom. Something wrong? You sound a little down.”

“Oh, just a little nostalgic, that's all. I thought if you weren't busy I might come over for a while and we could talk.”

Thirty minutes later Bess had turned her back on her best design time and was entering the setting of last night's confrontation with Michael. When Lisa opened the door Bess hugged her more tightly and a little longer than usual.

“Mom, what's wrong?”

“I guess I'm just being a typical mother, is all. I was sitting there at the store, getting all misty-eyed, remembering when you were little.”

Lisa gave a foxy grin. “I was pretty fantastic, wasn't I?”

Lisa had the gift for creating effortless laughter but as Bess released the sound she was wiping a tear from the corner of one eye.

“Oh, Mom . . .” Lisa curved an arm around her mother and led her toward the living room. “I'm getting married, not cloistered.”

“I know. I just wasn't prepared for it.”

“Dad wasn't either.” They sat on the davenport and Lisa put her feet up. “So how did it go when the two of you left here last night? I figured you went off to talk about everything in private.”

“We went out and had a cup of coffee and actually managed to be civil to one another for the better part of an hour.”

“So what did you decide about Mark and me?”

Bess's expression became wistful. “That you're my only daughter, and you're only getting married once . . . at least I hope it'll only be once.”

“That's why you really came over, isn't it, to make sure I'm doing the right thing.”

“Your dad and I just wanted you to know that if for any reason you decide marriage to Mark isn't what you want, we'll stand behind you.”

It was Lisa's turn to display a wistful expression. “Oh, Mom, I love him so much. When I'm with him I'm more than I was. He makes me want to be better than the me I was before, and so I am. It's as if . . .” Sitting cross-legged, Lisa gazed at the ceiling in her intense search for the proper words, then back at her mother, gesturing with both hands as if she were singing a heartfelt ballad. “. . . As if when we're together all the negative stuff disappears. I see people around me in a more charitable light; I don't criticize, I don't complain. And the funny thing is, the same thing happens to Mark.

“We've talked about it a lot . . . about that night when we met. When he walked into that pool hall and we looked at each other, we suddenly didn't want to be in a pool hall anymore but someplace pure, a woods maybe, or listening to an orchestra someplace. An orchestra! Cripes, Mom!” Lisa threw up her hands. “I like Paula Abdul but there I was, with all my senses open and new avenues looking inviting.

“Something happened . . . I can't explain it. We just . . .” Silence awhile, then Lisa continued, softly. “We just felt different. There we were, living that crazy bar scene, hanging around in noisy, smoky places and swaggering and showing off and being loud and obnoxious at times, and then our two crowds bumped into one another, and he smiled at me and said, ‘Hi, I'm Mark,' and from that night on we never felt like we had to be phony with each other. We can admit our weaknesses to one another and that seems to make us stronger. Isn't it weird?”

On her end of the sofa, Bess sat very still, listening to the most stirring description of love she'd ever heard.

“You know what he said to me one day?” Lisa looked radiant as she continued. “He said, ‘You're better than any creed I ever learned.' He said it was a line from a poem he read once. I thought about it awhile—actually I've thought about it a lot since he said it—and I realize that's what we are to each other. We're each other's creeds, and
not
to marry someone you feel that way about would be the greatest shame of all.”

“Oh, Lisa,” Bess whispered, and moved to take Lisa in her arms, this very young woman who had found a love to believe in the way every woman hopes she will one day. It was at once shattering and gratifying to learn that Lisa had grown up in a short span of time while she, Bess, had not been as attentive as she should have been. How humbling it was to realize that Lisa had learned something at age twenty-one that Bess herself had not at age forty. Lisa and Mark had discovered how to communicate, they had found the proper balance between praising each other's virtues and overlooking each other's shortcomings, which translated not only into love but into respect, as well. It was something Bess and Michael had never quite managed.

“Lisa, darling, if you feel that way about him I'm so happy for you.”

“Yes, be happy. Because I am.” While they were still hugging, Lisa added, “There's just one more thing I want to say.” She set Bess away from herself and told her point-blank, “I know you're probably wondering how an educated young woman of the eighties could possibly be so stupid that she got pregnant when there are at least a dozen ways to prevent it. Remember when we went skiing up at Lutsen before Christmas? Well, I forgot my birth control pills that weekend, and we realized we might very well be making a choice if we made love. So we talked about it beforehand. What if we risked it and I got pregnant? He told me then that he wanted to marry me, and that if I got pregnant that weekend, it was fine with him, and I agreed. So, you see, Mom, we're not just handing you a pile of gas when we say we're happy about the baby. What you're worrying about . . . well, you just don't have to. Mark and I are going to be great . . . you'll see.”

Bess tenderly touched her daughter's face. “Where have I been while you did all this growing up?”

“You were there.”

“Exactly . . . there. Running my business. But I suddenly feel as if I spent too much time at it and not enough with you during the past few years. If I had, I'd have seen this relationship between you and Mark blossoming. I wouldn't have been caught so off guard last night.”

“Mom, you handled it okay, believe me.”

“No, you handled it okay, and so did Mark. Your dad was totally impressed by him.”

“I know. I talked to him today. So did Mark's mother. She said she was going to call you, too. Did she?”

“Yes, she did. She's delightful.”

“I knew you'd think so. So everything is set for Saturday night? No objections?”

“Now that I know how you feel, none.”

“Whew! That's a relief. So Dad said you two talked about the rest—the dress, and all of us walking down the aisle together, and you'll do it, huh?”

“Yes, we'll do it.”

“And I can wear the dress?”

“If it'll fit you, yes.”

“Hey, Mom? I know what you're thinking about the dress, that it might put some kind of hex on my wedding or something, but that's really a lot of crap. It isn't dresses that make weddings work, it's people, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I just like the dress, that's all. I used to play in it when you weren't home. You never knew that, did you?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Well, that's what you get for putting something so irresistible off limits. Someday I'll tell you some of the other stuff that Randy and I used to do when you guys were gone.”

Bess's grin became suspicious. “Like what?”

“Remember that sex manual you used to keep hidden between the spare blankets in the linen closet in your bathroom? The one with all the drawings of all the positions? You didn't think we knew it was there, did you?”

“Why, you little devils!”

“Yup, that's us. And remember that vase that disappeared and you could never find it again? That white one with the pink hearts around the top? We broke it one night when we were playing monster in the dark. We used to turn off all the lights and one of us would hide and the other one would walk like Frankenstein, with his arms out, roaring, and one night
—chink!—
over went your vase. We knew you'd be royally pissed if we told you, so we hid the pieces in a tomato-juice can we found in the garbage and pretended we didn't know anything about it. But I just knew, Mom, that one day you'd have more vases than the Monticello Flea Market, and sure enough, look at you now. You probably have twenty of them in your store as we speak.”

How could Bess resist laughing at such flippancy?

“And all the while I was sending you to catechism classes and teaching you to be good, honest children.”

“Well, we were, basically. Look at me today. I'm going to marry the boy I got into trouble and give his baby a name.”

When Bess finished laughing, she said, “It's getting late. I should go. It's been a long day.”

Rising from the sofa, Lisa said, “You work too hard, Mom. You should take more time to yourself.”

“I take all I want.”

“Oh, sure you do. But I have a feeling that when Mark and I have this baby we're going to lure you away from your little loft in the sky more often. Just feature that, would y'—my mom a grandma. What do you think about that?”

“I think my hair needs bleaching. The roots are beginning to show.”

“You'll get used to the idea. What does Dad think about being a grandpa?”

“We didn't discuss it.”

“Oo . . . I hear a cool note.”

“You bet you do. Now that the emotional part is over I can tell you that was an underhanded trick you pulled last night.”

“It worked though, didn't it?”

“We've drawn a truce for the duration of the wedding festivities, nothing more.”

“Oh yeah? Randy said you were playing ‘Homecoming' when he got home last night.”

“Good heavens, have I no privacy at all?” The two of them moved to the apartment door.

“Think about it, Mom . . . Dad and you together again, coming to visit us and your grandchild. That'd be wild, huh? The two of you wouldn't have to fight about taking care of the housework and kids anymore, because we're all grown up and you have a housekeeper. And you're all done with college so he couldn't be barking at you about that. And he's got his own cabin now so you wouldn't have to stay behind when he goes hunting. And since he's all washed up with Darla—”

“Lisa, you're hallucinating.” Bess drew on her coat with an air of finality.

“Yeah, well, think about it, I said.” Lisa braced one shoulder against the wall.

“I
will not!
I'll treat him civilly but that's the extent of it. Besides, you're forgetting about Keith.”

“Old bald-headed Keith the rag man? Don't make me laugh, Mom. You've been dating him for three years and Randy says you don't even spend nights with him. Take it from me, Bess, the rag man's not for you.”

“I don't know what's come over you tonight, Lisa, but you're being intentionally outrageous.” Bess opened the apartment door.

“I'm in love. I want the rest of the world to be, too.” Lisa popped a kiss on her mother's mouth. “Hey, see you Saturday night, huh? You know how to get there?”

“Yes, Hildy gave me directions.”

“Great. And don't forget my little brother.”

Heading for her car, Bess had totally lost her melancholy mood of earlier. Lisa truly had a gift for making people laugh at their own foibles. Not that she, Bess, had any intention of reviving anything between herself and Michael. As she'd said, there was Keith to consider. The thought of Keith brought a frown: he wasn't going to be pleased about her breaking their date Saturday night.

She called him from the phone in her bedroom the moment she got her suit and hosiery off.

He answered after the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

“Keith, it's Bess. Did I get you away from something?”

“Just got out of the shower.”

There wasn't and never had been any sexual innuendo following convenient lead-ins such as this. It was one of the things Bess missed in their relationship, yet she never felt compelled to start it and since he didn't, humorous and intimate repartee was missing.

“I can call back later.”

“No, no it's fine. What's up?”

“Keith, I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to cancel our dinner date Saturday night.”

In the pause that followed she imagined he'd stopped drying himself. “Why?”

“The Padgetts are having a dinner at their house so both sides of the family can meet.”

“Didn't anyone ask you if you were busy?”

“Everyone else was able to make it. I hardly thought I could ask them to delay it for me alone, and given how short a time there is before the wedding, I thought it best if the two families met right away.”

“I suppose your ex will be there?”

Bess massaged her forehead. “Oh, Keith.”

“Well, won't he?”

“Yes, he will.”

“Oh, fine, just fine!”