The Shadow Wife (23 page)

She and Lisbeth were closer than ever as they talked over wedding plans and shopped for the wedding gown and bridesmaids’
dresses. Lisbeth looked fabulous these days. She was only two sizes larger than Carlynn, and Carlynn persuaded her to try on wedding gowns, as well as the bridesmaid’s dress. She told Lisbeth that it would help her see how a dress would look on her to see it on her twin. But really, she’d just wanted Lisbeth to enjoy the thrill of seeing herself in a wedding dress. Only later did she think it might have been a little mean of her to make Lisbeth see herself as a bride without a wedding of her own in sight.

Lisbeth fell in love with one of the dresses. She couldn’t stop fingering the lace and looking behind her at the long train, and she spent a long time admiring herself in the mirror before she took it off. She tried to persuade Carlynn to try it on, as well, but, although Carlynn also loved the dress, she had never seen Lisbeth so enamored with an article of clothing.

“No,” she said, selecting her second choice for herself. “That one will be yours someday.”

They left the bridal shop and began walking toward the bus stop.

“I guess if Gabe and I ever get married, it won’t be at Cypress Point,” Lisbeth said as they walked.

Carlynn heard the wistfulness in her sister’s voice. She had no doubt that Lisbeth and Gabriel would be together for the rest of their lives, no doubt that they were meant for one another, and yet there would always be that extra burden for them to carry. They would never have the freedom to live their lives as she and Alan would.

“Honey,” she said, putting her arm around her sister’s shoulders as they walked. “We have to have a serious talk about my wedding.”

“You mean about having Gabriel there, don’t you?” Lisbeth asked, and Carlynn knew her sister had been expecting this conversation.

“Yes,” Carlynn said. “Alan and I want him there. He will be your guest. I’m going to insist upon it. It’s my wedding, after all.”

Lisbeth looked at her with affection, but there was doubt in her eyes. “It’s at Mother’s home,” she said. “Mother will make the rules.”

“I’ve been thinking about it, though,” Carlynn said. “Maybe we’re not giving Mother enough credit. I don’t think she’s a racist, exactly. It’s just that all the Negroes she’s ever known have been servants or waiters or other service people. She never had an opportunity to meet them under any other circumstances. We really don’t know how she’ll react. We’re guessing. Maybe you should just show up with him. If we act like there’s nothing amiss, what’s she going to say?”

Lisbeth was quiet for a moment. “I couldn’t put Gabriel in that position.”

Carlynn sat down on the bench at the bus stop. Lisbeth was right. That would be unfair to Gabe, and unnerving for the rest of them as they awaited Delora’s reaction.

“What if Mother knows, and says it’s all right?” Carlynn asked. “He’d come then, wouldn’t he?”

“Of course, and that would be wonderful,” Lisbeth said. “It would also be a miracle, though.” She ran a hand through her blond curls, which she now wore looser and longer, in a style that was so flattering Carlynn wished she’d discovered it first.

“Well, I’m going to talk with her about it,” Carlynn said.

“Good luck,” Lisbeth said. She didn’t sound at all optimistic.

Carlynn called her mother that evening from the phone in her bedroom, and Delora immediately launched into a litany of problems she was having making arrangements with the photographer and the caterer. Carlynn listened patiently, and when Delora stopped to take a breath, she said, “I need to talk with you about something, Mother.”

“Don’t tell me the wedding’s off,” Delora said. There was more of a warning in her voice than there was sympathy.

“No, of course not. Nothing like that. I just wanted…” She
hesitated. “You know, of course, that Lisbeth will be bringing her boyfriend.”

“Yes, I have his name on the list. Gabriel, isn’t it? Shall I put him at the head table, next to Lisbeth?”

“That would be perfect, Mother. But I thought it would be best if you knew a little bit about him before the big day.” Carlynn screwed up her nose as she spoke. She hated this. Gabriel’s color should not be an issue, and she felt as though she, herself, was making it one.

“Well, tell me about him, then,” her mother said. “Where is his family from?”

“Gabriel’s a fabulous person, Mom,” Carlynn said, avoiding the question of family, “but I thought I should let you know ahead of time that he’s a Negro, just so you wouldn’t be surprised when you saw him.”

There was a long silence on the phone line, and Carlynn wondered if her mother had fallen into a dead faint.

“This figures,” Delora said finally, in disgust. “Lisbeth goes out with no one her entire life, and then when she finally does, it’s with a colored man. Well, it’s out of the question, Carlynn. He can’t come here.”

“It’s my wedding, Mother.”

“And it’s my house and many of my friends will be here, and I just won’t have it, Carlynn.”

Carlynn ran her hand over the chenille spread on her bed, trying to think of a different approach. “Mom, he’s really a lovely man,” she said. “He—”

“I don’t care if he’s president of the United States, he’s not coming here.”

Carlynn gritted her teeth. “Lisbeth loves him, Mother. And he loves her. Doesn’t that count for something? He’s a professional. An accountant at SF General.”

“So he thinks he can get a white woman, then? Because he’s an accountant? He’s going to lower Lisbeth to his level, that’s all he’s going to do. And Lisbeth is going to let it happen.”

Carlynn let out her breath. How was she supposed to respond to that?

“If you think I’m going to have someone like that at one of my parties, especially on the arm of one of my daughters, well…I wouldn’t dream of putting any of my guests in that uncomfortable position.”

“It’s not
your
party, Mother. It’s
my
wedding. And it’s Lisbeth you’re putting in an uncomfortable position. You’re making her unwelcome in the home she grew up in.”

“I never said she wasn’t welcome.
She
can come. But she’d better be alone.”

“Mother…” Carlynn’s voice trailed off in frustration.

“You know, I sometimes wonder if that girl is actually mine. I was asleep when they cut her out of me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, I know she looks just like you, but you’re a true Kling, with elegance and bearing and intelligence…”

Carlynn rolled her eyes.

“…but, somehow, Lisbeth turned out to be nothing but trash. Fat trash. I just can’t believe she’s doing this to me. To our family.” Her mother was weeping now, and Carlynn ignored her tears.

She thought of telling her that any differences between her twin daughters were of her own creation, but wisely bit her tongue. “She’s not fat any longer, and you know it,” she said instead. “You saw her just a few weeks ago. She looks great. Give her some credit. She gained weight because she was miserable, but with Gabriel, she’s happy. She’s lost seventy pounds so far, and you didn’t even compliment her on it when you saw her.”

“I don’t care if she disappears,” her mother said angrily, and hung up the phone.

Carlynn stared at the phone in her hand a long time before placing it back in the cradle.

Lying down on the bed, she continued the conversation with her mother in her mind. She thought of telling her that she
envied what Lisbeth had with Gabriel. There was an adoration between Lisbeth and Gabe, a love so caring and tender, it sometimes made her feel weepy to be around it. She knew Alan loved her, but it was different. She supposed that she, as a physician, did not invite the sort of attentive devotion that Lisbeth received from Gabriel. She couldn’t help but wish, though, that Alan would touch her more often, hold her hand in public and talk with her about his deepest secrets and feelings, the way Lisbeth said Gabriel spoke to her.

Rolling onto her side, she felt a pang of guilt for wanting Alan to be someone he was not. He would make a wonderful husband and father, and that’s what truly mattered. And he
did
adore her, in his own way. She was never quite certain, though, if it was her gift or herself that he treasured most.

Carlynn and Alan met Lisbeth and Gabriel at Tarantino’s the following night. It had become their favorite restaurant for a double date, despite the fact that the diners around them were mostly tourists. The sun had not yet set, and from their table near the window, they could see the boats in the harbor and gulls flying above the green water.

She’d told Alan about her conversation with her mother and about Delora’s unwillingness to have Gabriel at the wedding.

“How bad has her eyesight gotten?” Alan had asked, only half joking.

“Not
that
bad,” she’d replied.

They’d gotten serious then, weighing their options and coming up with the only solution that seemed both fair and feasible.

Now, after they’d ordered their cioppino, Carlynn looked at Alan, who nodded at her, letting her know it was time to tell Lisbeth and Gabriel the decision they had made.

“There’s been a change of plans,” Carlynn said.

“Regarding?” Gabriel was lighting a cigarette, but his eyes were on Carlynn.

“The wedding,” Alan said. “We’ve decided not to get married
at Cypress Point, after all. We’re going to have a smaller wedding right here, in the little Episcopal church near my row house.”

“What?”
Lisbeth was clearly astonished.

“It will have to be a different weekend than we’d planned,” Carlynn said, “because the church doesn’t have our date open, but—”

“Stop this,” Gabriel said softly, and they all turned to look at him.

“Stop what?” Lisbeth frowned.

Gabriel tapped the ash off his cigarette as he seemed to collect his thoughts, then he looked at Carlynn. “I know you’re making this change because of me,” he said, “and I don’t want you to do that.”

“Oh, no,” Lisbeth said, understanding dawning in her eyes.

Alan licked his lips. “Look, Gabe,” he said, resting his arms on the table so he could lean closer to Gabriel. “You’re right that you’re the catalyst for the change. But please understand that your friendship and your presence at our wedding are much more important to us than where we get married.”

Carlynn gratefully squeezed Alan’s knee beneath the table. How could she ever have wished for someone better than this gallant man?

“You spoke to Mother?” Lisbeth looked at Carlynn.

Carlynn nodded. “She reacted as you guessed she would,” she said. “And Alan and I are not willing to have Gabriel excluded or to have anyone feel uncomfortable at what is supposed to be a happy occasion.”

Lisbeth turned to Gabriel. “Oh, Gabe,” she said. “I’m sorry my mother is so impossible.”

Gabriel took another drag on his cigarette, blew the smoke into the air, then turned to Lisbeth. “Your mother called me,” he said.

“Oh, no.” Carlynn grimaced.

“How would she know where to reach you?” Lisbeth asked.

“I’d told her that he was the accountant at SF General,”
Carlynn said. “I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I had no idea she’d call you.”

“Not your fault,” he said quickly to Carlynn, then leaned back, saying nothing as their waiter set plates of salad in front of each of them.

When the waiter had walked away, Gabriel continued. “She told me I wasn’t welcome at the wedding,” he said. “But she had a great deal more to say than that.”

“She is a class-A bitch,” Carlynn said too loudly, and a diner at the next table turned to glare at her.

“What else did she say?” Lisbeth looked worried.

Gabriel stubbed out his cigarette and covered Lisbeth’s pale hand with his dark one. “She made me realize that the cost of us being together would be even higher than we imagined. She said that she would cut you completely out of her life if you continued to see me, that you’ll never be welcome at Cypress Point again, ever, whether I’m there with you or not.”

Lisbeth leaned forward. “I’ve told you, I don’t care about any of that,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Do you think in a choice between you and my mother, she stands a chance?”

Carlynn was furious with Delora. How could she hurt Lisbeth this way? Lisbeth adored Cypress Point, and her mother knew it.

“She said that,” Gabriel continued, “if we were ever to get married, she’d cut you out of her will.”

Lisbeth blanched at that. “She wouldn’t do that,” she said. “Her money was also my father’s money, and no matter what she thinks of me,
he
loved me and would have wanted me to have it.”

“I don’t believe Mother would really cut her out of the will,” Carlynn agreed. “I think she’s just saying that to try to control her. That’s the way she is.” She wasn’t sure, though, and she knew quite well what Lisbeth might be giving up for love: millions of dollars and her share of the mansion she adored.

“You know, Liz, I’m just a guy from Oakland,” Gabriel said.
“There are plenty more men out there who are better than me, and who would cost you nothing. If I truly love you, and I sure do, how can I let you lose so much?”

“I want
you,
” Lisbeth said.

“And I want you, too,” Gabriel said, tightening his grip on her hand. “I just need to be very sure you know the risks of being with me.”

“I do,” Lisbeth said.

Carlynn felt her eyes burn.

“Your wedding—” Gabriel looked at Alan and Carlynn “—will be at Cypress Point. Lisbeth will be a beautiful maid of honor, and you will have pictures taken that you’ll show me when you get back to San Francisco. And I’ll be very sad to miss your special day, but the four of us can have a separate celebration when you get back.” He looked at the three of them one by one. “All right?”

“Thanks, Gabe,” Alan said, nodding. Beneath the table, he took Carlynn’s hand and held it tighter than he ever had before.

“H
ERE YOU GO, HONEY.”
J
OELLE’S MOTHER HANDED HER A GLASS
of fresh lemonade, then sat next to her father at the small table on the balcony of the condominium.

“Thanks, Mom.” Joelle was in the lounge chair, where she’d planted herself an hour ago, after her parents brought her home from the hospital. It had been three days since her surgery, and she felt remarkably well. There wasn’t much pain, but she was tender and shaky, and she felt a need to move cautiously. The baby had been quiet during her hospital stay, but he or she was active today, the moving-bubble sensation filling Joelle’s belly a couple of times an hour.

Joelle took a sip of cool lemonade, then set the glass on the flat arm of the lounge chair. “I need to talk to you two,” she said, not completely sure she was ready to have this conversation.

Her parents turned in their chairs to face her.

“What’s up?” her father asked, reaching for a tortilla chip from the bowl on the table. He was wearing sunglasses, and she wished she could see his eyes.

“I’m pregnant,” Joelle said.

There was a moment of silence on the balcony.

“Oh, honey.” Her mother scraped her chair across the floor of the balcony to move it closer to the lounge. She put her hand on Joelle’s arm, her face impassive, unreadable, and Joelle felt some sympathy for her. Ellen didn’t know whether she should be happy for her daughter or not, and she was waiting for a cue from Joelle.

“It’s good and bad news,” Joelle said, “as you can probably guess.”

“How far along are you?” her father asked.

“Eighteen weeks,” she said. “Almost nineteen.”

“Wow,” said her mother. “You’re barely showing.”

“I haven’t emphasized it,” Joelle said. “I’ve tried to wear loose, nonmaternity clothes, but it will be impossible to hide soon. And, anyway, now everybody knows.”

“You poor thing,” said her mother. “You had to have your appendix out while you were pregnant!”

“Well, fortunately, everything turned out okay,” she said.

“Who’s the father?” her dad asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” her mother said quickly. “What matters is that you’re going to have a baby. Something you’ve wanted for so long. Something you thought was impossible.”

She imagined her mother was thinking the same thing as her colleagues—that she had gotten herself artificially inseminated or perhaps had found an egg donor. Something out of the ordinary, since everyone knew the struggle she and Rusty had had trying to conceive.

“I want you both to know the truth,” she said, longing to tell them. “But please keep this to yourselves.” Who would they tell, anyhow?

“Of course,” said her mother.

“Liam is the baby’s father.”

“Liam!” Her mother leaned back in the chair, surprise clear on her face. “I thought you and Liam were just friends.”

“We are.” She sighed and shook her head. “We spent so much time together when Mara got sick. And we became very close.
One night…we made love. Just that one time, but…” She nodded toward her stomach. “That appears to have been enough.”

“Why does it have to be a secret?” her father asked.

Her mother turned to him. “Because Liam is married to Mara,” she explained as though he were senile. “He’s so committed to Mara. I’m actually surprised he would…” Her mother didn’t finish her sentence, but Joelle knew where she had been heading.

“But not surprised that I would?” she asked, then was instantly annoyed with herself. Her mother had meant nothing by her comment, and Joelle knew it. It was simply the truth. Anyone would be surprised that Liam had made love to another woman.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” her mother said.

“I know. It’s just…it’s a mess, Mom. We didn’t use birth control because neither of us figured I could get pregnant. And you’re right. Liam is completely and utterly committed to Mara.”

“Well, so are you,” her father said, rushing to her defense.

“What does Liam have to say about all this?” her mother asked.

Not much,
she thought, feeling the unwelcome anger that had been teasing her lately. “He didn’t know until the appendectomy, when word finally got around that I was pregnant,” she said. “I was never going to tell him.” She smiled at them. “Actually, I was thinking of leaving here. Moving to Berkeley to be near you two, or to San Diego to be near another friend, where I could start a new life. Then no one here would have to know.”

Both of her parents stared at her in silence. “To spare Liam from having to deal with the whole thing,” her mother said. It was a statement rather than a question, and Joelle nodded.

“He’s so screwed up, Mom,” she said.

Her father shook his head. “You’ve always wanted to save everybody, Shanti,” he said. “Even when you were a kid, you’d take the blame for things the other kids did. Do you remember that?”

“Only once,” Joelle said, remembering the time she’d claimed she’d set fire to a flowering shrub near the cabin that served as the schoolhouse. She knew the parents of the boy who had actually set the fire would punish him far more severely than her parents would punish her.

“I can think of at least three or four times,” her father said.

“Are you still planning to move?” her mother asked.

Joelle shook her head. “No. There’s not much point to it now that the cat’s out of the bag. Liam and I are going to have to figure out how to handle this without creating more of a mess than we already have.” So far, though, Liam had shown little evidence that he planned to join her in that task.

While she was in the hospital, Liam had been careful to give her the attention befitting a friend with whom he’d worked for many years and about whom he cared a great deal, and nothing more than that. Paul treated her similarly. She doubted anyone’s suspicions had been raised. She wondered if, now that she was home, she would hear from Liam or if he would continue his policy of no longer calling her at night. Perhaps that would be wise. They would inevitably grow closer with each call, as they had before. She would love to have those calls again—she needed more support from him than she was getting—but that much contact could only lead them down the same slippery slope. “What do
you
want, honey?” Her mother touched her arm again. “What do you wish would happen?” There was such love in her mother’s eyes that Joelle had to look away from her.

She bit her lip. “I want what I can’t have,” she said, her voice breaking, and she began to cry.

“She’s tired,” her father said, talking about her as if she were not sitting just three feet from him.

“Dad’s right, hon.” Her mother leaned forward to stroke her hair. “How about a nap?”

Joelle nodded, letting her mother help her to her feet. She
was
tired. She reminded herself of Sam, when he’d gone too long
without a nap and simply could not maintain his good disposition one minute longer.

She slept for hours, awakening to the unmistakable smell of her mother’s vegetable soup. Although her bedroom door was closed, the aroma still found its way to her bed, and it filled her with longing for her childhood, when everything had seemed so simple and good.

Slowly she got out of bed, her right side aching a bit. She combed her hair in the dresser mirror, thinking that she should tell her parents she’d finally gotten in touch with Carlynn Shire. They would love to hear that she and the healer were becoming friends, and that Carlynn would soon be working with Mara in earnest, for whatever that was worth.

Slipping on her sandals, she walked from her bedroom to the kitchen.

“That smells so good, Mom,” she said.

“I thought you might like some soup, even though it’s warm outside,” her mother said.

“You’re exactly right,” Joelle said, leaning against the breakfast bar. “My stomach still feels a bit queasy.”

Her father came up behind her and put his arm around her waist. “I’ve been thinking, Shanti,” he said. “Good and good and good can’t possibly equal bad.”

“What do you mean?” she asked him.

“You’re a good person,” he said. “And so is Liam, and so is Mara. There’s no way something bad can come from anything the three of you do.”

She was touched by his rationale, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re so sweet, Daddy,” she said. “I’m glad you guys are here.”

Her father looked at her mother. “Hey,” he said, “remember Shanti’s cypress in Big Sur?”

“Yes, of course!” her mother said. “I’d forgotten all about that.” She looked at Joelle. “Do you remember? You’re supposed
to take a cutting from it for each child you have. You know, plant a new tree for the new baby.”

She knew what they were talking about: the Monterey cypress planted on top of her placenta. To be honest, though, she didn’t recall anyone ever talking about taking a cutting from it to plant a tree for a new baby.

“I don’t have to bury the placenta under it, do I?” She tried to keep the teasing tone out of her voice, but wasn’t sure she had succeeded. She decided she would wait a while before admitting to them that she’d contacted the healer. She could only handle so much of her parents’ eccentricities at one time.

“No, of course not,” her father said. “We’ll go down and get you a cutting from it.”

“She really should get it herself,” her mother argued.

“You guys are too much.” Joelle laughed. “Is the soup ready yet?”

As she lay in bed that night, Joelle found herself thinking of Big Sur and the Cabrial Commune. It was more the smell of her mother’s vegetable soup than the discussion about the cypress that brought the memories to mind, and she felt a yearning to go back there, to the place she’d spent her first ten years of life. The troubles of the outside world had been nonexistent there, and the world inside the commune consisted only of friends and forest and fog. It was the place where her father and the midwife, Felicia, had taken the time to dig a hole and plant a cypress to ensure her future. She knew exactly where her cypress was planted—near the northwestern corner of the cabin that served as the schoolhouse. Each of the kids who’d been born at the commune knew which cypress was theirs, and all mysticism aside, it had been a pretty nice custom.

She’d been to the Big Sur area several times in the last twenty-four years, but never to Cabrial. Rusty had shown no interest in visiting the place where she’d grown up, and each time they
drove down Highway One to Big Sur, she would pass the dirt road leading to the commune with an unspoken longing.

Maybe, after she had the baby, she would go.