Holding On (Hooking Up) (3 page)

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

We hung up soon after, and I turned to Ryan with a triumphant smile. “I did it. I talked to my birth mother! She’s great, and she’s moving here!”

“Really? Sweetheart, that’s wonderful. And I’m proud of you; you barely had any meltdowns.” He smirked and enfolded me in a hug.

“I know. I’m improving,” I told him smugly.

He smiled at me and leaned in for a kiss.  It seemed I had everything I had ever wanted; even if I hadn’t known I wanted it at the time. Soon, I’d meet my real mother and we’d be a family. It occurred to me that life couldn’t get much better.

Chapter 3

I talked to Maria on the phone several more times over the next month. The floodgates seemed to have opened after our initial phone call, and it was as if we’d known each other forever. And I supposed we had, even though distance had separated us for a time. But that was behind us, and I was over the moon with joy.

The one thing that continued to bother me was my deteriorated relationship with Gran. I felt so full of family and goodwill as of late, I hated not having someone to share my triumphs with. Yes, Gran and I didn’t get along, and she felt saddled with me when she took me in after Shelly and Keith died, but she was still my family.

Over the past year, I had learned that blood ties didn’t necessary mean anything. After all, Isamu was my dad, for all intents and purposes, and he wasn’t true kin. Benjie was not my flesh and blood, but I couldn’t imagine loving him more if he was. Heidi and Kelly were not really my sisters, but we were close enough to feel related.

It was all relative, really. I had always considered Gran to be family, and it was strange to not talk to her and be driven nuts by her on a regular basis. I even missed her badgering me and giving me dirty looks and exasperated sighs. Family meant sticking together in good times and in bad, and we’d had more than our share of bad. For once, something good had happened, and the newfound optimist in me had a feeling Gran would be thrilled to know there was someone out there who actually looked forward to my visits and phone calls. I figured it would be sort of like letting her off the hook. Maybe the lack of pressure would make her finally come around and loosen up. I had learned firsthand what the lack of pressure will do to a stubborn, slightly neurotic woman.

So, I bit the bullet and called her. I almost expected her to ignore my call. After all, the last real contact I’d had with her was when I received the RSVP for my wedding. “Not attending” had been boldly circled in red pen.

But answer the phone she did, and I listened to her voice with a distinct amount of longing.

“Hello?” The culture in her blue-blooded speech rang true in my ears.

I smiled wistfully. “Hi, Gran. It’s me.”

“Hello, Caitlin. How have you been?” Good manners forced her to ask, I knew. But part of me hoped that maybe she really wanted to know how I had been doing.

“Really well, actually. How have you been?”

“Quite busy. I’ve been elected as president of the gardening club, and we’re organizing some fundraisers and garden parties. There’s so much to do. Muriel Bainbridge was elected as vice-president and she isn’t helping me at all.” Muriel was one of Gran’s on-again, off-again friends, another of the socially superior Gran alternated between being close to and gossiping about.

“Well, un-elect her. You’re the president, aren’t you?”

“I would, but we’re on the church board together, and it would just cause friction. And what would Pastor Williams say? So, I’ll handle it, but she’s got another thing coming if she thinks her name will be on the program as one of the organizers.”

“Gran, could I come by and talk to you? I’ve—well, I’ve missed you, and I have some things to talk to you about.”

“Catie, you’re not pregnant already, are you? Only a few months after your wedding? Or were you pregnant before you got married? No wonder you raced to the altar with that boy. And how are you going to support a baby on your income?”

“Gran, it’s not that at all.” I sighed, suddenly remembering why I stopped talking to her in the first place.

“So, are you having second thoughts about your new husband? I knew you were rushing into things by marrying him so soon. You barely knew him. I was sure you’d eventually regret not taking Michael back. He’s single again, you know.” Her voice was smug and it instantly grated on my nerves. She’d always liked Michael, my ex-boyfriend. With her help, he was another person who tried to throw a wrench into my happiness, and he was a sore subject with Ryan and me.

“No, it’s not that, either. Why do you always expect the worst?” I asked.

“Because life isn’t a fairy tale. Fairy tales don’t exist. I’m sorry, Catie, but you live in a dream world.”

“I feel bad for you, Gran, if you’re really that jaded. I’m coming over. Please let me in when I get there.”

“I simply don’t have the time—”

“See you soon, Gran.”

I grabbed my pocketbook and quickly ran a comb through my hair. Even though my fashionable grandmother would throw a fit to see my raggedy shorts, holey t-shirt and beat-up Converse sneakers, I had to move. I wasn’t going to give her a chance to leave before I got there. I wouldn’t put it past her to try, just to avoid me.

“I’m going to see Gran!” I called out as I got ready to head out the door.

“Without riot gear and a bullet-proof vest?” Ryan quipped as he came out of the kitchen and met me at the door.

“They’re at the cleaners. Wish me luck.”

He kissed me quickly and said, “Honey, you’ll need more than luck. You’ll need a miracle.”

I grinned and made my way to the car. He was right.

Gran had always been cold, grim and unloving and it made my childhood years difficult, to say the least. Recently, she revealed how she resented the fact that her daughter, my adoptive mother, died when I was ten and left her saddled with me. She was too consumed with grief to be able to open herself up to an orphaned, frightened, sad little girl, and it showed by the harsh way she handled me. Thank God I had Isamu to show me love and affection. Without him, I’m not sure how I would have ended up. It was actually a pretty scary thought. It was another of the questions I’d be considering lately, what with Maria coming into my life and our similarities. Would I have been as cool and standoffish as she was if Isamu hadn’t taken me under his wing? I didn’t think so, but I was glad I didn’t have to find out.

Gran’s house was as ostentatious and photo shoot-worthy as always. The trees were in full leaf and they shaded her expansive front lawn from the heat of the mid-summer sun. The cinnamon brick walkway was lined with bright red geraniums and the flower beds were precisely edged and lined with cedar. The white vinyl siding gleamed and the black shutters flanking the windows carried no dirt or dust. Not a single thing was out of order.  Of course, she was now the president of the gardening club, so appearances must be kept. It wouldn’t do for a single weed to poke up out of the yards and yards of black gold mulch. I sighed as I looked at it. Something about the military precision of Gran’s gardening made me sad. It appeared as though she was substituting her garden for human contact. It was her way of cultivating something living, but without all the interaction and emotion.

I knocked on the siren red front door with the heavy brass knocker and waited an appropriate four seconds before the door opened and Gran appeared. She even answered the door like an aristocrat.

She looked well. Her hair was coiffed in its usual up-do and her nails were freshly manicured. Her khaki pedal-pushers were starched and crisp. Her pristine white button-down shirt bore fresh iron marks and smelled of starch. Her skin was as smooth and mostly unlined as ever, but then it’s hard to get laugh lines when one never smiles.

She wrinkled her nose at my faded summer garb. “I see marriage hasn’t improved your fashion sense.”

“Nice to see you, too, Gran.” 
Don’t let her get to you, Catie. Don’t let her push your buttons. You’re here for a reason
, I repeated in my head like a mantra.

“Well, come in before you let the air conditioning out,” she directed. The reception I had gotten was so chilly we probably didn’t even need the air conditioner. Still, I dutifully followed Gran inside and flipped off my sneakers just inside the foyer so as to not scuff her freshly-waxed Brazilian cherry floors.

“So, what brings you here after all this time? Are you finally remembering to make time for your family?”

“Gran, that’s not fair. You’re the one who told me you didn’t even consider me family, remember?”

“I remember your attitude, that’s for certain. If you’ve come here to sass me, you can go. I’m a busy woman and I don’t have time for ungrateful, mouthy children.”

I made a conscious effort not to let her get to me, to come in and say what I wanted to without hurling accusations or getting into a fight. It was difficult and I swear I felt my blood pressure rise with every biting retort, but I fought for control and moderated my tone to a respectful, level one. Someone had to be the adult here. Breathing deeply, I looked her in the eye. “Gran, can we please just go into the parlor and talk?” I beseeched.

“Very well — if you insist.” She made yet another disapproving huffing noise and turned away, leading me into the parlor that still looked as though it belonged in a magazine spread. Everything was the same, except that the silver-framed photo of me that usually stood on an antique piecrust table was conspicuously absent. Nice. She’d wiped me right out of her life like she’d wipe away dust with furniture polish, preferring instead to be bitter and miserable, cold and sterile. I guess I no longer went with her décor.

“I see you redecorated,” I said, motioning to the table.

She sniffed a little but defended herself. “I was waiting for some wedding photos, but you never sent any.”

“You could have come over and collected some. As a matter of fact, you could have come to my wedding and taken some pictures yourself. You chose to sit here and sulk instead,” I said evenly. “What did I do that was so wrong you couldn’t even come to my wedding?”

“You didn’t want me there.” There it was. Classic Gran, twisting the situation until she was the victim.

“I invited you, didn’t I?”

“For form, nothing more.” She sat straighter and sniffed a bit, looking down her very self-righteous nose at me.

“Well, at least I learned manners from you, if nothing else.” I was grasping at straws, trying to lighten the mood, hoping she’d appreciate my attempt at humor. To my surprise, it worked. A tiny, thin-lipped smirk appeared on her stern Patrician face.

“Yes, I suppose you did, except you never did learn to stay away from dinner parties you weren’t invited to.” She was referring to the party of hers I crashed last fall when I found out she coerced Michael into coming to Ryan’s apartment to make a scene. It nearly cost me my relationship with Ryan, and for that, I would never forgive him, and had to struggle to forgive her. If Ryan and I hadn’t gotten back together, I’m not sure I ever would have.

“Well, what can I say? I’m a work-in-progress,” I said, offering the proverbial olive-branch and letting her have that one.

It appeared, however, she wasn’t done haranguing me. “So, what did you want to talk to me about if you aren’t pregnant and you don’t need money?” She hadn’t changed a bit, still direct and supercilious. I had been expecting it, but it still took me aback. It had been so long since I’d had to defend myself this way. Turns out I hadn’t missed it as much as I thought I did.

“Gran, I talked to Maria. My birth-mother.”

Her normally firm jaw fell slack and her eyes bugged out of her well-coiffed head. “You did what?”

“Isamu found her and sent her a letter right before the wedding. We’ve been exchanging emails for the past two months, and I finally got to talk to her over the phone. It was awesome. She’s great!”

“So, has she asked you for money yet?”

“No. Why would she?” I was completely flabbergasted by this. I knew Gran was a bit highbrow and smug, but this one took the cake.

“Well, obviously, she’s come from out of nowhere to talk to you after all this time. Sounds a bit suspicious, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t. And we never mentioned money,” I said slowly, taking a deep breath in to steady myself.
Calm down, Catie. Relax.

“She wouldn’t at first. Not until she meets you in person. Then she’ll give you some sob story about how she’s down on her luck or sick or in trouble and tell you you’re her only hope. That’s what those people do.”

“What people, Gran?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“You know what I mean. How many times have I told you to look out for that sort of thing? You fell for it, of course. Mark my words, she’ll ask for money soon enough.”

“I really don’t think that’s the case, but thank you for your words of wisdom, oh ye of little faith,” I chided her stiffly, struggling to salvage this discussion and remain calm. It was a Herculean effort.

“So, did she tell you why she gave you away?”

“Yes, she did,” I said defensively, mentally kicking myself for the tone of my voice, knowing she’d respond in kind.

“And?” she said as she looked down her nose at me again. At that moment, I wished Ryan was here. He had always been able to handle her accusatory stares and frigid innuendos better than I could. He was a cop, after all. He had been trained to stay calm in the face of disaster, and in my book, disaster included nasty in-laws.

“She said I was the product of a one-night stand.” As I admitted what I’d learned, I winced a little inside. She’d have a field day with that one. But what came out of her mouth next was worse than I had anticipated.

“Well, that’s classy. Still, it’s about what one would expect, isn’t it? It just proves the expression ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’.”

“Excuse me?” I said incredulously, a hot flush creeping up my chest into my cheeks.

“Oh, Caitlin, don’t be obtuse. You know what I mean. And you’re way too trusting. It will only lead to hurt. You’d be better off telling her you didn’t want to make contact. It will save you a lot of pain and aggravation in the long run.”