Heartwood (2 page)

And if you are, that’s just plain foolish
, she told herself sternly.
Theo has made his wishes clear and you won’t go against him. That’s the marriage you have. Stop wasting your time thinking about all of this
.

Besides, the holiday ahead of her was not Rosh Hashanah or Passover. It was Thanksgiving. Cozy Thanksgiving, when the weather was just cold enough and the days were just dark enough to make it a pleasure to be indoors. Thanksgiving, that most American—and neutral—of all holidays. Theo loved it even more than Iris did and happily celebrated it in his home each year. And this year they were going to be even happier than usual because all of their children would be together under their roof for the first time in years. Given how busy and scattered the kids were it was nothing short of a miracle.

Iris spotted a parking place at the far end of the lot, and
headed toward it. But at the last second, a white van slipped into it ahead of her. She resisted the temptation to pound on her horn and continued her slow round of the parking lot.

Of course Janet and Jimmy were coming for Thanksgiving; they lived in Manhattan, which was a forty-five-minute car ride away from Iris and Theo’s home in the suburbs, and they and their little daughter, Rebecca Ruth, always celebrated Thanksgiving with Nannie and Grampy. Iris shook her head. Could there be a worse nickname for regal, old-world Theo? When Jimmy’s wife had first suggested that Rachel call him Grampy, he had actually winced. But Janet hadn’t noticed. Janet was the salt of the earth; not only was she a successful doctor—an anesthesiologist—she was a fine mother and a conscientious daughter-in-law. But Iris couldn’t help feeling that she was a little … stolid.

“What does Janet laugh at?” Iris had once asked Laura. She and her daughter talked on the phone every week, and Iris enjoyed the calls thoroughly. “I don’t think she has much of a sense of humor. Otherwise she’d understand how funny it is to watch poor Theo trying to answer to ‘Grampy.’ ”

“I know,” Laura had said. “But Jimmy doesn’t have a sense of humor either. So they’re well matched.”

“Do you really think so? Because sometimes I wonder, you know. Janet is so certain about everything, and Jimmy has never been a fighter …”

“What on earth would he have to fight about? He and Janet are practically the same person.” In her mind’s eye, Iris could see Laura on the other end of the phone ticking off her points on her fingers. “They’re both doctors, and they love to talk shop. They both agree they only want one child. They both adore living
in Manhattan, and they’re both passionate about the opera. They’re perfect for each other. Even you can’t worry about them.”

After that Iris hadn’t—at least, she hadn’t worried as much. Laura could always do that for her.

A large delivery truck cut in front of Iris, forcing her to stop. She looked in her rearview mirror and saw that she couldn’t back up because the cars were lined behind her. There was nothing to do but wait for the men, sweating in the cold, to unload their cargo onto the loading dock of the supermarket.

Once again, Iris went back to her thoughts.
I wish just for a moment I could get inside my children’s minds. So I’d be sure that they are all right. But do we ever know that about anyone we love? Especially our children. Those little creatures we held and rocked and fed, grow up to be full of surprises
.

That was certainly true of her oldest son, Steven, arguably the most brilliant of her children. Throughout his teens and early twenties, he had been a rebel, sullen, and bearded, with long hair that was seldom clean—the uniform of his time, although he would have been furious at anyone who suggested that. He had been passionately opposed to the Vietnam War, which Iris had thought was understandable and perhaps even laudable, although it had infuriated Theo.

But then Steven had taken his politics too far, even for Iris. He’d dropped out of college and joined a radical group that “protested” in ways that were downright terrifying. Iris shuddered, remembering the torment of those years when she’d been afraid to look at the evening news, because the young face suffused with rage and screaming obscenities as its owner was taken off to jail might be her son’s. Eventually Steven had been
arrested, nearly breaking his father’s heart and causing a schism in his parents’ marriage. Or, to be more honest, he had widened one that had already been there. This had led to an accident that had cost Theo, a plastic surgeon, the use of his hand, and his career, and … Iris stopped herself. She never let herself think about the days and months after Theo’s accident.

It had been a dark, bleak time, but they had weathered it. With an amazing effort of courage and will, Theo had retrained himself in a new medical discipline, and become an oncologist. And she had become Professor Iris Stern. Together they had discovered the gift of forgiveness and their marriage had endured. Enough said.

And Steven? Iris felt a smile creep over her face. Her son, the rebel, who had once wanted to tear up the Constitution, was now … a lawyer. “We have to change the system from within,” he’d told his bemused parents. He’d had this epiphany after the worst of his rebellion was ended and he was working as a researcher for a liberal think tank in Washington, DC. Finding the ivory tower atmosphere too limiting, he’d gotten his law degree—in record time, Iris thought proudly—and he’d gone to work for a not-for-profit legal firm called People’s Prosperity. They only represented clients who were desperate and unable to pay for their services, so Steve still hadn’t sold out to The Man, but—as his sister, Laura, pointed out—he
was
wearing a shirt and tie every day. And he seemed happy with his life at last.

“At least, I hope he’s happy,” Iris had said to Laura six months earlier during their weekly phone call.

“I think he’s lonely,” Laura had said.

“There’s plenty of time for him to meet someone. There’s no hurry about that.”

There had been a pause on the other end of the line. “Actually
he has met someone, Mom,” Laura said. “Her name is Christina. He told me about her.”

And not for the first time, Iris had been aware of how much everyone in the family confided in Laura. Laura never judged, and she never gave her opinion unless asked, but her advice was usually sound. Anna had been like that. In the worst of times she could get through to the Stern kids when their frantic parents couldn’t. Lucky Mama, who had been not only beautiful and charming, but wise. Lucky Laura, who was so like her.

“Steve never said a word to us,” Iris had said, trying not to sound hurt.

“I know. He asked me to smooth the way for him first. Bringing a girl home to meet his parents isn’t easy for a son.”

“He wants us to meet her? So soon?”

“It’s been going on for a few months now, Mom. Just try to keep an open mind.”

“I always do, you know that.”

But she and Theo hadn’t liked Christina. They’d tried, but they couldn’t. The girl hadn’t been in her home more than ten minutes before Iris realized it.

“From what I can tell she barely finished high school,” Iris reported to Laura after the disastrous visit had ended. “You know I’m not a snob, I don’t believe that everyone has to have a college education. Look at my own parents, Mama worked as a maid when she first came to this country and Papa was a house-painter … But this girl Christina … I don’t think she’s ever read a book or a newspaper. She certainly isn’t interested in politics or the law or any of the causes that drive Steve. I can’t imagine what they find to talk about!” Then Iris had blurted out, to her shame, “She’s not even pretty!”

“Oh, Mom! I hope you didn’t …”

“Don’t worry, I was very nice to her. Although I doubt she would have noticed if I wasn’t. She was too busy trying to figure out how much things in the house had cost.”

“Maybe she was just nervous.”

“She couldn’t take her eyes off your Nana’s silver candlesticks. And it was her opinion that I could get over twenty thousand dollars for that ring Papa gave Mama.”

Even nonjudgmental Laura didn’t have an answer for that. “Did Daddy behave himself?” she asked.

“Your father is a gentleman.”

“In other words, he was aristocratic and Viennese. And icy.”

“I’m sure she didn’t pick up on it.”

“I hope Steve didn’t.”

“He’s too besotted with her to see anything else. What can he be thinking of? He must know they have nothing in common. When I think of all the pretty, smart girls he could have had …”

“But that’s not Steve. He wants a girl he can rescue. And Christina was one of his clients—wasn’t she?”

“Oh yes, she told us all about it. She was overcharged by her landlord and she was evicted and Steve won her case for her. Of course, now she doesn’t have to worry about where she’s going to live because she’s moving in with him.”

“That is quick.”

“Do you know what she told us when she was here? Steve makes her feel like Cinderella because no one has ever taken care of her before. Why would a grown woman want to feel like the heroine of a silly fairy tale? But Steve just sat there smiling and listening to her. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Mom, promise me that you won’t say anything like that to him. He’s in love with her.”

“He can’t be.”

“He says he is. And he means it.”

“She’s using him. Someone has to make him see that.”

“When has anyone ever been able to make Steve see anything—if he doesn’t want to?” Laura paused. “And if you try to talk him out of this … you know what Steve is like.”

Iris did know. She’d learned the hard way that when her brilliant, passionate son felt he had to do something that was foolhardy, or even dangerous, trying to reason with him just made it worse.

“After all we’ve been through with him … now this …”

“Don’t start thinking that way, and don’t let Daddy get started either. This is nothing in comparison to what Steve did during Vietnam—he’s come a long way. Besides, what if Christina really is the right one for him?”

Iris had wanted to cry. “He deserves so much better.”

“Maybe she’s better than you think. Give her a second chance. I don’t think you have any other choice.”

Iris had tried. In the months since that phone call, she had not said one word of criticism against Steve’s girlfriend. She had even invited Christina to come for Thanksgiving.

“But Steve says she can’t make it,” Iris reported to Laura. “And I’m not going to lie, I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry this relationship of his is so hard for you.”

“It’s just …” Iris could hear her own voice cracking. “I thought I didn’t have to worry about him anymore.”

But even as she said the words she knew how ridiculous they were. You always had to worry about those you loved, because human beings couldn’t stay safely in one place. They changed and they grew and they moved on, that was a part of life and
you couldn’t stop it. Even if you were convinced that they were headed in the wrong direction, like Steve. Or like her youngest son, Philip.

Up ahead, the sweating men having finally finished unloading the truck, they climbed back into the front seat and began inching forward. Iris followed them, her mind now switched over from her firstborn to the last of her children.

Philip wasn’t making an overt mistake like Steven was with Christina. What was going on with him was more subtle than that. And more unexpected. That was what made it so hard; because when Philip was growing up, she’d never had a moment’s anxiety over him. He’d been her surprise baby who had come to her after she’d thought her childbearing days were finished, and from the beginning he’d been easygoing and affectionate. And talented. From the age of five, Philip had been something of a piano prodigy.

His grandfather Joseph had been especially thrilled by this. “You can’t tell where genius will come from,” he’d say when Philip had finished playing a Chopin étude for the family. “His grandmother and I aren’t at all musical. Iris, you had talent, but forgive me if I say that even you were not in the same class as our little Philip.” And Iris would agree that her son had surpassed her, and Joseph would go on to predict a great career for the boy. “Yes, yes, yes, I know what the odds are against making a success in classical music,” he’d say as Theo and Iris tried to restrain him. “But someone has to play at Carnegie Hall, and why shouldn’t it be my grandson?” And in spite of themselves, Iris and Theo would let themselves dream a little too.

They were careful to keep these dreams from Philip, and not to push him in any way, but they might as well have saved
themselves the effort. The boy knew what his family was hoping for. And even though Joseph had died by the time Philip entered the Juilliard School of Music, Iris knew that when he walked into his first class Philip was remembering the old man who had had such faith in him. That was why it was so awful when two years later he said he was quitting. “I’ve seen real genius now,” he told his parents. “I’ve heard it in other students. I know I’m not good enough to be one of the best, and I’m not humble enough to be content with second best.”

And so he had left Juilliard and gone to business school. “After all, most musicians are good at math,” he’d told Iris with a sad little grin that broke her heart. Then he’d become a trader on Wall Street, working his charm and winning personality on his clients, and doing rather well.

“But look at the way he lives,” Iris said to Laura. “Always running around. And all the money he makes, doesn’t he have enough? He’s never home … if he isn’t working he’s going out every night to restaurants and nightclubs with those so-called friends who drink too much … and do worse things. And he’s with a new girl every week.”

For once, Laura didn’t try to soothe her. “He’s still mourning for his music,” she said. “He loved it so much, and I don’t think he enjoys what he’s doing now. But he’s not ready to face that yet. We just have to wait until he can.”

“I wish he’d come home for Thanksgiving instead of running off to some overpriced resort.”

“Yes. That might be good for him,” Laura had said thoughtfully.

Iris had thought that was the end of it. But a few days later Philip had called to say he was coming home for Thanksgiving.
Iris had been sure Laura was behind it. It was the kind of thing she would do. It was the kind of thing Anna would have done.