Olive Branches Don't Grow on Trees (17 page)

“She’s
coming with Doug?”  He asked, as if he did not already know the answer to
this question.

“And
Isabella,” Silvia said, nodding her head.

Frank
looked onto the floor for a few seconds and then at Silvia. She assumed that he
was thinking that this dinner was a good idea after all, but there was still
one thing nagging at him.

“You
know who’s going to have to pay for the whole thing? Don’t you?” Frank did not
seem as angry as she thought he would be.  She figured that the combination
of seeing Donna and Angie with having an opportunity to look good in his
son-in-law’s eyes was more important than the price of dinner.

“Well
yeah, Dad, but think of how good you will look in
everyone’s
eyes.”  And when she said
everyone
, she was really only
referring to Donna, Doug, and Angie, but did not want to name specific names.

“That’s
true,” he said, with an expression on his face like he was trying to visualize
how
everyone
would be
responding so graciously to his act of generosity.  And suddenly a look of
concern came into his eyes, and he said, “How will everyone be sure that I paid
for the whole thing?  I want some kind of public recognition.”  He
said this like a preschool-aged boy demanding a treat from his mother for his
good behavior.  But Silvia was prepared for this question.

“I
will say something in a toast I make for Vince.  I will give a special
thanks to you for your generosity, so everyone will know.” 

Frank
seemed satisfied with this agreement and told her to make the reservation.
 After she made her call, she was surprised to find herself going back
into the den to sit in front of the television with Frank.  She would
normally retreat to her room and paint, write emails or plan her move to
Portland.  But she felt something inside that directed her back towards
the den as if, maybe, for the first time in her life, she wanted her father’s
company.

“What
now?” he said to her as if her re-entrance into the room was purely
opportunistic.

“Nothing.
I just thought I’d watch TV with you.” When he realized that she did not want
anything from him, he asked her if there was anything special she wanted to
watch.  Her mind went blank.  She rarely watched television and so
she was unfamiliar with the current programming.  She imagined that most
every channel was showing some terrible reality show.

“Oh,
whatever,” she said.  She was glad when he turned on a nature channel that
was showing a documentary on giraffes.  As long as she could remember, he
liked watching nature and animal shows, and Silvia liked this particular aspect
of her father.

He
began looking around the room like he was uncomfortable and then blurted out,
“I got the worst sweet tooth.  Damn, I wish I’d stopped for some ice
cream.  They have
Breyers
on sale at the ACME.
 Wish I had some now.” 

Silvia
knew that he was fishing for an offer for her to go get some ice cream, so she
told him that she would go and pick some up.  At that, Frank’s face
brightened and he made a special request for mint chocolate chip.  “If
they don’t have that, get chocolate fudge.  
If they
don’t have that, just plain chocolate.”
  She said okay, walked out
of the room, and was almost out of the back door when she heard him say, “If
they don’t have any of those flavors, just call me.” 

“Righto,”
she said, and hurried out of the door.

**********

When
she came back home, he was staring out of the kitchen window anxiously awaiting
her arrival.

“I
got mint chocolate chip,” she said, as soon as she walked in the door.
 Frank looked like he wanted to jump up and down and clap his hands and
shout hurray.  He had the bowls and spoons out and he began digging the
ice cream as soon as she put the carton down on the table.

They
ate their ice cream while watching wild animals on TV, and during one of the
commercials, Frank turned to his daughter and said, “You know something?
 You’re good company.”  He said this as though it was a brand new
realization for him, and in some way, maybe it was.  She smiled as if to
thank him for paying her the compliment. 

“So,
have you given any thought to what you want to do with your life?” he asked.
 She knew what he meant by this strange question.  If he was more
skilled at the art of conversation, he might say something like, “Have you
explored any new career options recently?”

Silvia
knowing full well what her father meant, responded, “I’m thinking of getting a
certification in elementary education and becoming an art teacher.”

Frank
raised his eyebrows and said, “Now you’re using your head,” as if she was not
using her head before.  And then he added, “Too bad that teachers are
getting laid off left and right these days.”

“Yeah,”
she agreed, “but what isn’t tough these days?”  She felt like an old
person saying “these days.”  He nodded in agreement, as he ate some of his
ice cream.

“Where
are you thinking of getting your certification?” he asked.

“I’m
not sure,” she said, not wanting to divulge her plans to move to Portland to
him.  She knew that he thought of her moving around from place to place to
be completely senseless, and she did not want to lessen the respect that he was
now giving her.

“You
can stay here if you want.  It won’t cost you anything.  You can
commute to Rowan.  That’s not far.” 

When
she had considered this option previously, she felt sick in her stomach.
 But now as she sat eating ice cream, watching the nature channel with the
mellow version of Frank, she felt like maybe she could live here.  Maybe
it might not be all that bad.

**********

Silvia
had fallen asleep in front of the television set and was jerked out of her
sleep-state by a particularly loud commercial.  When she awoke, Frank was
lying on the couch, snoring happily.  She decided to let him continue
sleeping on the couch instead of waking him up, knowing that he sleeps much
better on the couch than in his bed.  So she quietly slipped away and went
off to her room.  On her way, she stopped by Vince’s room to find him
talking on the phone to one of his friends.  She needed to clear some
things up with him before the reunion, and now was as good of a time as any, so
she sat on the only chair in his room and waited for him to get off the phone.

As
she waited, she stared at the walls of his room that were mostly bare, except
for a vintage peace poster that hung crookedly near the door to his
closet.  She thought it ironic that he was so impassioned about the
principle of peace, and yet, like all of the
Grecos
,
he was unable to get along with the members of his own family.  She felt
that peace was something that began at home and if it could not be achieved in
one’s very own home, then trying to achieve it in the world would be extremely
difficult, or even impossible.  He needed to know this and he needed to
know this now.  She introduced the discussion by commenting on his poster
for lack of a better idea of how to introduce it.

“Nice
poster,” she said.

“Thanks,”
he said like he was really confused by her remark.

“I
mean it’s a nice symbol and all,” she said trying to clarify her remark.

 He
had no response. He just looked back at her like he had no idea where she was
going with her strange little comment, but his face became less confused when
she said,  “Peace begins at home, you know.”

“Does
it?” he said like he did not trust her words.

“Well,
it has to start somewhere.  It doesn’t come from the air.”

“I
suppose not.”

She
was now beginning to get frustrated at his casual indifference, and so she
began speaking in a loud, slightly angry tone of voice in order to get a rise
out of him.

“How
can you care so much about something like world peace if you’re not at peace
with your own family?  If you want to make peace in the world, you have to
start at home.”

“I
get along just fine with our family,” he said defensively.

“What
about Dad?”

“Who
gets along with Dad?”

“What
about how you can’t stand Doug?  What did he ever do to you?”

Vince
raised his eyebrows, smiled sardonically, and answered his sister by saying,
“What did he ever do to me?  How about what he did to the whole country?
 The whole world!  He’s a criminal like all those Wall Street
bastards!”  He spoke loud and passionate like an Evangelical preacher.

“Oh,
c’mon, Vince,” she said.

“It’s
tough to forgive a bunch of criminals that are never blamed for their criminal
activity.  If anything, they’re rewarded for it.”

“Maybe
he doesn’t really know the criminality of the system he works for.  Ever
think of that?  He does seem naïve, at times.”

“He’s
highly educated.  I think he’s wise enough to know the difference between
right and wrong.”

“But
can’t you, at least, give him the benefit of the doubt?  And if you were
not so busy hating him, you might, one day, have an opportunity to get through
to him.  And that goes for all people like him.  How are you going to
work for world peace if you can’t talk to people like Doug?”  At this last
statement, Silvia perceived a shift in Vince’s facial expression that seemed to
indicate a trace of understanding.  Moreover, he did not refute this last
argument that his sister had made, and thus, she had an opportunity to expand
on this idea.  “You know that diplomats don’t only talk to like-minded
people.  I bet most of the time they don’t even like the people they have
to interact with.  But they know that they have to be diplomatic to
accomplish their goals, and so they are.”    

Vince
looked like he wanted to say something back, but it appeared as though he did
not have a good comeback to this one.  So he just listened to the rest of
what his suddenly didactic sister had to say about peace, love, and Wall
Street.

“All
I’m saying is that maybe if people like you could get through to people like
Doug, we might not be in the state that we’re in.  Maybe if groups of
people didn’t hate each other and encapsulate themselves from each other the
way they do, it might be a different world.  
A better
world.”

Vince
put his head in his hands and looked down at the floor.  Then he looked up
at his sister like he wanted to say something, but could think of nothing to
say.  She could tell by the look in his eyes that she had gotten through
to him, and that was good enough for her.

She
said goodnight and went down the hallway to her room where she collapsed on her
bed after what felt like a never-ending day.  Her ears were ringing from
her tiredness.  She got up to change her clothes and then she did
something with complete unawareness.  She put her clothes inside the
drawers of her old bureau.  Maybe it was the fatigue that made her do such
a thing.  Maybe it was the nice night she had with Frank and the great
talk she had with Vince.  Using the old bureau felt perfectly natural to
her tonight.  She even felt a small temptation to take all of the clothing
out of the crates and put them inside of the drawers of her bureau, but she
resisted.  It still felt too soon. 

**********

Silvia
was glad that Donna decided to meet her at the mall for dinner.  She was
starting to learn all kinds of stuff about the mall.  Probably more
information than she ever wanted to know about the shopping center that she had
devoutly avoided for most of her life.  She was very glad she had
discovered the restaurant at which she was meeting her mother, for it had the
best French onion soup she had ever had in her life.  When she got to the
restaurant, Donna was sitting at a table, dressed in a plain black top and
glasses, reading from an e-book reader, sipping a glass of red wine.
 Silvia gave her mom a hug, sat down, and began buttering a piece of bread
from a basket that was in the center of the table. 

“How
was work?”  Donna asked, turning her reader off and putting it away in her
bag.  Silvia responded by rolling her eyes, which told her mother that
work could have been better.  So her mother, instead of persisting with
more questions about work, asked her daughter if she had looked any further
into the possibility of teaching.

“I
did.  I did.  And I’ve given it more thought.  
A lot more.
 And I think I want to do it,” she said,
her face lighting up. “I would have to get a teacher certification, unless I
opt to teach in a private school, but the pay in private schools tends to be
much lower.”

“A
private school would be a great way to get in, though, and see if teaching is
something you really like,” said Donna, who then continued in a much more
pessimistic tone with, “The only thing with teaching is that it seems like a
tough field to get into these days.  
With all the
lay-offs and such.”