Significant Others (13 page)

Could it be? Could my mother have done such a horrible thing? Knowing I was pregnant with Daniel’s child? Knowing how much I loved and missed him, how I pined for him, and how much Donny needed his father? No wonder she pushed me to marry Stan. To my mother, Stan represented safety, security, status. There was no question he would be a good provider for her daughter and grandson and, indirectly, for her. And Stan didn’t disappoint. He provided for all of us. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for us or give to us.

“Did you love her?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“More than I loved my own life. God, yes, I loved her. I was an emotional wreck the whole time I was over in Europe. I’d begun to think her mother was right. That I wasn’t good enough. That she had moved on. And then when I imagined her with another man, well, that was another kind of hell. There were times when I actually didn’t want to come back, if you know what I mean. Not if there was nothing left for me to come home to. It would have been so easy, you know. I thought about it, too, but I couldn’t risk anyone else’s life. We, the guys, were a team.”

“Do you still have the letters?” I asked, twisting my hands around the sheets.

“Yeah, sure, I saved them. I never showed them to my wife. But I couldn’t destroy them. That would be like letting her go, and this way a part of her stayed with me. But I had to get back to a normal type of life.”

“When did you meet your wife?”

“I found her when I was looking for my sweetheart. I went down to City Hall to check the records, forwarding addresses. Natalie was the office clerk, and she did her best to help me with the search. But one day, after almost a year of trying and following dead ends, she put her hand on mine and said, ‘I think it’s time to give up. You’re never going to find her.’ Her hand was warm and gentle, and she was there and my sweetheart was gone, and one thing led to another. She got pregnant and I married her. It was the right thing to do. It was too late for regrets and longing for what could never be.”

I sighed deeply and thought back to the night before my wedding to Stan. The night when I found out Daniel was still alive. My best friend from Pittsburgh had flown down for the wedding and she was helping me pack for my honeymoon. I hadn’t heard a word about Daniel since he’d left, and when I asked my friend if she had, she hesitated.

“Well, your mother said that I wasn’t—”

“I want to know what you know,” I demanded, interrupting her. “Is he—d-dead?” I held my breath. I was prepared for the worst, but I had to know either way.

“No,” my friend said.

I could still remember the relief I’d felt. I had been certain he was dead. Otherwise, he never would have abandoned me and our son.

“He did come to see me, asking about you,” she said. “And there was a girl with him. She was draped across his chest, all clingy, like, you know, there was already something between them. At least she wanted me to think so. And your mother had made me promise not to tell you if he should come around. She said that it was the best thing for you. That Daniel had ruined your life. And so when he did show up, I told him I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry. Your mother can be pretty forceful. And then he and the girl were obviously—”

I broke down. That was the first I knew for sure Daniel survived the war. I experienced a range of emotions in the space of an instant.
Daniel’s alive. Thank you, God, for bringing him home safely
.
Even if it’s to another woman’s arms.
I was so happy, grateful. I had thought maybe if I flew back to Pittsburgh, if I could just reach him on the phone, tell him where I was, he’d come after me.

But I was on the verge of getting married, and then there was the matter of that girl with Daniel. And our baby. What would Daniel think about being saddled with a baby? He’d made all sorts of promises, the kind new lovers make. We both had. But none of those promises had been kept, because the war had turned the world upside down. And I needed a father for my son. Stan had been there when I needed him. He was wonderful with Donny. Donny had really taken to him. Daniel was obviously ready to move on. So I cried myself to sleep and woke up the next morning, bleary-eyed but resigned to marrying Stan and going on with my life. I walked down that aisle with a smile and never told Stanley. I’d made a commitment to him, and I was determined to stick by it.

It wasn’t an unhappy life. Stan couldn’t have been more adoring. Of course I loved him. I discovered just how much after he was gone. His death devastated me. But something had always been missing in our relationship. Some spark of me that I’d hidden deep inside in a place I’d never let Stan enter.

“Did you love your wife?” I asked Daniel.

“I grew to love her. She was a wonderful person. It was a different kind of love. She loved enough for both of us, you know. I think we can only feel one great love in our lives. And Dorothy was mine.”

“Dorothy,” I said, holding my breath. “Was that her name?”

“She was a beautiful girl. And she had the biggest blue eyes, eyes that were a lot like yours, eyes you could get lost in, and the biggest heart.”

I was going to cry. I had to get Daniel out of here before he saw my tears.

“My daughter will be coming home soon, so you’d better go,” I choked.

Just then I heard the key in the lock and we rushed to get dressed, like a couple of guilty teenagers about to get caught in the act.

****

“Mom?” I called out, walking into the living room and dropping my purse on the coffee table. “Are you home? Aunt Helene just dropped me off.”

“Uh, yes, Honey, I’ll be right out.” I heard a lot of commotion behind the door, giggling, strange noises, and a deep, unfamiliar voice.

My mother was coming out of the bedroom with a man, a rather remarkably handsome giant of a man. He was built like the Incredible Hulk. He looked familiar, but I knew I’d never seen him before.
Hold on here, the bedroom?
My hand flew to my heart.

“I was, uh, just showing, I mean…” My mother sputtered, looking from the Incredible Hulk back to me.

“This must be Max,” I said, trying to regain my composure. Well, I guess they couldn’t wait until the cruise.

“Max?” the man asked, puzzled. “Is that my competition?”

“No.” Mom laughed. “Max is just a man in my building, a friend I met in my bereavement group.”

“Oh, yeah, your sister tried to get me to go to one of those bereavement meetings, but I prefer to suffer in silence. Hi,” said the man, coming toward me. My mother was obviously too flustered to make the introductions, so he stepped up to the plate. Cocking his head, he flashed me a look of recognition, and then he said, “I’m Daniel Moore. You must be Dee Dee’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your mother was trying to introduce us at the dance earlier this evening, but you were a popular partner. We kept missing each other.”

I would definitely have remembered meeting you.

“You must be the one Aunt Helene was talking about,” I said.

“Right, that’s me, the widower, otherwise known as the eligible bachelor. You look just like your mother, by the way, except for your nose,” Daniel pointed out.

“I got my dad’s nose,” I stated.

“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Daniel laughed, tapping his finger lightly to the tip of my nose, like my dad used to do. “It’s a beautiful nose.”

Okay, this man has potential, even if he’s not Max and my mother has become a loose woman.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to live down this nose,” I said, crinkling it.

“Don’t,” he said, squeezing it affectionately.

“Mr. Moore.” I nodded to him.
You two are so busted.
All the telltale signs were there. Her smell was all over him. My mother’s lipstick was smeared. He’d lost the bowtie to his tux, and I was ready to bet if I were to go into the bedroom I’d find it tangled up in the sheets. My mother had taken a man to bed. How did I feel about that? How did I feel that another man had taken my father’s place so soon? A little wobbly. But Mom looked so happy, like a young girl again. Her face was flushed with that well-loved look. A look Daniel Moore obviously put there.
Well, okay, Honey Palladino, you’re just being a prude. This man has put a smile back on your mother’s face. So stop being so unreasonable and selfish and, okay, a little envious.

“Look, I’d better be going,” Daniel said awkwardly, putting a possessive hand on my mother’s shoulder.

Oh, yes, I noticed the way he was touching her.

“I’m going to play golf with my son tomorrow,” he said, looking at his watch. “Actually it’s already tomorrow, and then I’m on the hook for dinner, but I’d like to see you the following morning, for breakfast, if you’re free. Although I don’t know how I can wait that long.”

“No, I don’t think...” Dee Dee objected.

“I make a mean omelet.” Daniel laughed. “Hey, I’m offering to cook for you. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

I looked at my mother. She hadn’t looked this happy since, well she’d
never
looked this happy that I could recall.

“Go ahead, Mom,” I said. And her face lit up because I had given my permission for the breakfast, and maybe for the rest of it.

“Well, okay,” she agreed.

“I’ll be by to pick you up at nine,” Daniel promised, and he was acting as giddy as a schoolboy with his first crush. He looked like he wanted to kiss my mother but thought better of it because I was in the room. And she looked like she wanted him to. Instead, he touched her hand and gazed at her with those gorgeous green eyes. Oh, he was a hunk all right. The Incredible Hunk.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he said wistfully to my mother. She nodded. She was walking on air.

“Honey, you’re invited to come if you’d like,” Daniel offered, rather halfheartedly, I thought.

Oh, yeah, the last thing these two needed was a middle-aged chaperone. A third wheel. Then again, maybe that was exactly what they needed.

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to be packing,” I replied.

Jeesh. My mother was dating. It was beyond weird.

“Honey, it was nice meeting you,” Daniel said before he walked out the door.

“Mom, is this guy Jewish?” I asked, after I was sure he was gone.

She tilted her head and considered the question. “You know something? I don’t even know.” My mother laughed at the absurdity of the question that a Jewish mother would typically ask her daughter. “Your father wasn’t Jewish. And at my age, what difference could it possibly make?”

“Well, then, I hope you didn’t tell him about your Jesus tree. I don’t want him to think you’re crazy, at least not until the second date.”

My mother laughed again. She’d laughed more in the last few minutes than I’d seen her laugh in the past year.

“Actually, we never got around to talking about that.”

“Probably would have been inappropriate under the circumstances,” I said, gesturing to her bedroom. “You two obviously had other things on the brain. I wasn’t wild about the idea of Max, but I have a nice feeling about this guy, Mom. I like him. He seems familiar somehow. He’s substantial. He could be a linebacker. He’s in pretty good shape for an old guy. And those eyes, wow!”

My mother blushed.

“Meeting him tonight is a sign,” Dee Dee said wistfully, looking like she had a secret she wasn’t prepared to share.

“A sign?” I asked, confused. Was she talking about her tree again? What should it matter if she saw Jesus in a tree if it could bring her some comfort? Make her feel less alone in the world.

Chapter Nine: The Q-Tip Brigade

One by one, my mother’s friends were “dropping like flies.” Her words, not mine. Mom’s intimate group of girlfriends, “The Awesome Eight,” had been decimated to “The Fabulous Four,” much like the demise of the Big Eight accounting firms. Mom’s friends used to run in a pack. They were as close as sardines. There was hardly room to maneuver between them. And I was a part of that. I thought my mother’s friends would always be there, for her and for me. But sometimes, as Donny liked to say, life throws you a curve ball.

One of the last friends to go had been Maxine. We called Maxine the Black Widow because she’d already outlived two husbands and was afraid of marrying a third time. She’d been going with Harry, her significant other, for fifteen years. The way Maxine figured, she was keeping Harry alive by
not
marrying him.

I was sure Maxine, who had been in the synagogue choir with my mother, was now in heaven singing soprano with the angels.

“I wish I could have told her to give my love to your father,” my mother had said last week, after we’d had a good cry over the phone when we learned about Maxine’s death. We didn’t even have the finality of a funeral. Maxine had requested that her ashes be scattered over the Pacific Ocean off Hawaii. Although I didn’t think my mother could have survived another funeral.

With my father gone, all the husbands of the Fabulous Four were dead, and friendships had become even more important.

My aunt knew my mother was missing Maxine, so she invited some friends over to her place and arranged for us to drop by. Donny had left Jackson with us so he and his girls could finish their holiday shopping. Jackson was cute, but he was also boisterous—in my brother’s words, “all boy”—and my mother and I had him by the hand so our little whirling dervish couldn’t get into any serious trouble.

My aunt set out a platter of homemade chopped liver and crackers, a vegetable tray and dip, a fruit plate, some home-baked sweets, and diet sodas.

“I’m going to wreck this joint,” Jackson said, pulling away from me.

“Oh, no, you’re not,” I countered, shaking my head. Jackson was big, as big as Donny had been when he was a boy, and honestly I thought he
could
wreck the place if given half a chance.

“Would you like something to eat?” I asked, trying to get my nephew’s mind off thoughts of havoc and pandemonium.

“It’s all rabbit food,” Jackson frowned, eyeing the table suspiciously.

“No, it’s just healthy food. But I do see a brownie over there. Why don’t you go over and get one, but just one, or your mother will kill me.”