Updrift (3 page)

Alicia placed her arms around her girls. “These are my daughters, Maya, Sylvia, and Solange. I think Maya and Kate may be the same age. Is she in first grade this year?”

“As a matter of fact, she is. She’s six as of this month,” Cara replied. Kate regarded Maya shyly.

“Maya will be six in July. I’ve been meaning to get down here to meet you but haven’t been able to break away,” Alicia apologized. “We brought you a roast and a cake too, since it’s such a pain to cook and unpack at the same time. Oh, and we noticed you working in your garden, and so we brought over extra plants from our batch of seedlings. Just toss what you don’t want.”

Her mother thanked her. “Do you have time to come in? I could put a pot of coffee on, and we could all have cake. Kate and I will never be able to eat all of that on our own.”

Alicia hesitated, but Maya whispered, “Please?” She smiled down at her daughter. “That actually sounds nice. I don’t suppose anyone will die if I don’t get to the bank today.” The group drifted in the front door and into the kitchen, the two women talking about the plants Alicia had brought, and Kate lagging behind to better evaluate Maya. She liked her, and muscled her sisters out of the way at the table to be by her.

Cara closed her eyes after taking her first bite of cake. “This is fantastic. I take back what I said about Kate and me not being able to eat something like this on our own. I could eat the whole thing myself.”

Alicia eyed her mother’s thin frame. “It wouldn’t hurt you if you did. Sylvia’s the baker in the family. She deserves the credit for this one.” Sylvia beamed.

“My mom’s thin because she doesn’t eat enough,” Kate blurted out. “Grandma says it’s because my dad died.”

Maya stared at her in alarm. “You don’t have a daddy?”

Her mom and Alicia hissed simultaneously. “Catherine!” and “Maya!” they barked. They flashed each other quick smiles of apology.

Cara explained, “George died three years ago in a farm accident.” She shifted her attention to Sylvia. “You’ve got quite a talent, Sylvia. Honestly, this cake melts in your mouth. What’s in the glaze?”

When everyone had finished Kate asked if she could show Maya her room. Her mom agreed but Alicia’s assent came with a stern warning. “Fifteen minutes, Maya. And I don’t want you making a fuss when it’s time to leave.”

Maya barely waited until they were away to pull on Kate’s arm. “What happened to your daddy?” she demanded.

“He fell on a farm and got killed. It was an accident. My mom was really, really sad.”

Maya was thoughtful. “Did you see him when he was dead?”

Kate shook her head. “My mom wouldn’t let me.” She squirmed, wishing she’d never have to think about that time of her life again. “Your dad’s a dentist?” she ventured.

“The best one ever,” Maya bragged. “And he’s very safe so he won’t die.” She studied the contents of Kate’s room. “What toys do you have?” Kate brought them out, which absorbed their attention until Alicia called for Maya to go home.

* * * *

The Wilkes, Cara discovered, lived two blocks from them in Childress. Like her, Alicia’s husband, Jeremy, commuted to Griffins Bay where he worked at his own dental practice. Alicia stayed home with Maya and her two older sisters and she complained about not having playmates around for Maya to stay active and busy. When Cara started her job at the library, Alicia offered to keep Kate at her house.

Cara initially told her no. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Look at it this way, Cara,” Alicia argued. “It gives Maya someone to play with and frees me up. And I don’t want to put my nose in your business but you’re a single mother with a household to support. You can avoid a couple of months of childcare costs this way.”

“I don’t know…It’s a short step between asking for favors and taking advantage of someone, maybe losing their friendship.”

“You aren’t the one asking. I’m offering,” Alicia insisted. “And I wouldn’t offer if it didn’t benefit my family, which it does. I’m giving it to you straight, Cara: It would help if Kate were here to play with Maya.”

She considered agreeing, on the condition if Kate became a burden in any way, Alicia was to say so immediately. Alicia cast a sly glance at Maya. “How about we let the girls decide?” Kate and Maya cheered for the option of being together, of course. Their pleas drowned out her arguments until she gave in, laughing.

By the middle of summer, Dana and her husband, Will, didn’t visit as often; although Dana still came down twice a month. Cara put her to work in the garden or had her help with bigger tasks too hard for her to do alone, like washing windows, painting the porch, or replacing the cement on the front walkway with pavers. Dana chattered steadily about her business responsibilities or client antics or upcoming trip with her sales group, while Cara worked alongside her, half-listening or daydreaming.

Cara was long used to these conversations, which she believed were an excuse for Dana to underscore the contrasts between them. The take-away was unflattering—was meant to be, in Cara’s opinion—and referential to what Dana saw as her sister’s
unfortunate choices
following high school. Substantively, this meant a lot of talking on Dana’s part—about her job, the influential people she knew, and the extravagances she enjoyed—and not much at all about Cara. Even now, when Cara had completed a degree, transferred five states away, and everything was in flux, Dana did not delve.

As she pretended to listen to her sister blather on, Cara wondered if Dana would ever stop thinking of her as a disappointment. The characterization had become unfair—not to mention galling—because when Cara had married young and dropped out of college to have Kate…well that had been when she was twenty. Writing anyone’s epitaph at that age was ludicrous.

And unfortunately, Dana was the emissary on this front for their entire family, which was only the two of them and their parents. But still. Following George’s death, Dana had ended up leading the effort to save her after their father’s campaign had failed. “A library sciences degree? It’s just not likely to lead to prosperity, Cara,” her dad had counseled. “Not that I have any expectation you’ll listen to me, but why don’t you try something in the health care field, or business, like your sister?”

“This is a good fit for my skills and interests, Dad. Besides, most of the jobs in my field are with government, and the government isn’t likely to go out of business anytime soon. Think of the job security angle.”

Her dad didn’t argue with her. Dana did, however.

“Cara, don’t you want more for yourself?” Which Cara took to mean,
don’t you want what I have?

Dana had graduated from college with a degree in business and landed a job with a promising information technology company right out of school. The company experienced moderate success until it stumbled into the lucrative field of healthcare records management, which catapulted the firm to national prominence and significantly advanced the careers of its employees. Like many in her situation, Dana dug in, completing her MBA via online courses and night school; and then committed herself enthusiastically to longer hours as her responsibilities and salary grew. She worked hard, and when she analyzed her station in life—which Cara thought she did too often and too publicly—she had a little too much to say about her own accomplishments.

“All it takes is a strong work ethic, Cara. If you apply yourself you could get somewhere in this world too.”

More than anyone Cara had ever known, Dana saw her life through the filter of professionalism, a quality she believed epitomized the very best of human intercourse no matter the context. According to Dana, process improvement schematics worked just as effectively in romantic relationships as they did in sales project management, and no activity was too inconsequential to benefit from applied business principles. Dana definitely had the coffee maker that ground the beans and brewed the coffee according to a timer specifying when the coffee would be perfectly fresh for her morning routine. Following her marriage to a man who was equally career-driven, Will Fletcher, Dana behaved even more as if she had cemented herself in success and happiness.

So Cara was not surprised after she announced her intent to become a librarian, Dana seized on the chance to advise her. “You’ll never make any real money doing that. Let me have you talk with a few of my colleagues about successful choices they made in your situation.”

Cara stared hard at her sister and swallowed back about ten snarky comments she’d wanted to make. Instead, she settled on, “No. Thank you.”

Dana’s irritation flared. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I don’t think you really understand
my situation
,” Cara intoned. She’d thought but did not say she didn’t believe Dana understood
her
either but decided not to put too fine a point on things. “If you want to help me, talk about something interesting, like a good book you’ve read or your opinion on the national healthcare debacle.” Dana
tsk-ed
and shook her head but held her tongue.

The exchange was familiar to both of them, Cara knew. She found Dana way too eager to give advice and she bristled at the implication she couldn’t make her own way. Dana, Cara was sure, felt she was trying to help and didn’t get why Cara wouldn’t let her. Regardless, Cara always left these interactions upset—as did Dana, she suspected. Which did not lessen her frustration.

In fairness, Cara had never told Dana how repetitive and strident she found her sermons, so she likely didn’t know. Heck, since she did not specifically name her salary and list all her accolades for vendor of the month, she probably thought she was holding back. And actually, Cara understood her sister’s perspective on this front since she saw the practice so widely executed by others. She also remembered how hard Dana had worked to achieve their father’s love when they were both girls, and how violently she’d cried when she fell short of the mark. Dana deserved better, and Cara felt protective of her. She knew why Dana acted as she did.

She tried to shield Kate from the worst of their acrimony, although she saw her daughter take notice anyway. Later, when Dana had changed her ways and Cara felt she could be more open with Kate on the topic of her relationship with her sister, she described Dana as she’d seen her. “Dana was trying to show the best of herself according to a set of rules that rewarded her. A lot of people act that way. But if you examine not what she had, but what she
didn’t
have—a rich home life, long-time friends, interests outside of her profession. She wasn’t working to convince others she was happy, she was trying to convince herself. That’s why she beat us all over the head with her pretty stories.” Cara’s face fell. “What bothered me most was how she didn’t realize her heart and mind were bigger than all that. She deserved more.”

*

Growing up, Kate thought her aunt had quite a bit—cars, vacations, all the freedoms of easy finances—and she couldn’t imagine what
more
Dana might deserve. And while she and her mother never truly lacked, their existence felt precarious by comparison, the fun they enjoyed a ton less…well, fun. Consequently, she was a little jealous of what Dana had and did. She concluded her mother must be too.

She also assumed jealousy motivated her mother’s criticisms, which made her disregard them. She understood her mom’s frustrations—Dana’s condescension was obvious—but she couldn’t blame her aunt for valuing self-indulgence over boredom and drudgery. Why wouldn’t she?

During high school especially, Dana served as an exciting counterpoint to Cara’s practical persona. Her mother’s worries were familiar because she lived with her, and she sometimes found them tedious. Dana didn’t appear to have any worries, or at least, didn’t have her mom’s, and against the backdrop of laundry to do, bills to pay, and no real care over one’s wardrobe or makeup, her aunt’s stories about her travels, as well as her lovely clothing and expensive perfume enveloped her like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. Her teenage self decided quickly she wanted to be like Dana, not her mother.

Later on, she cringed to think of her shallow comparisons of the two women, and the value she placed on Dana’s appearance over her mom’s demonstrations of love and duty. For years though, her mother couldn’t compete, and not just on the fashion and jewelry front. While she knew her mother was proud of her performance at school, Dana’s praise, not her mom’s, rang in her ears as she strived for academic excellence. “Work hard at your studies, Kate, and you can enjoy the same rewards I did.”

Her friendship with Maya, she found, further defined her prejudices and ideals concerning the most important women in her life; and at first her loyalties shifted further toward Dana. She broached the subject one afternoon at Maya’s house. Throughout the dozens of family get-togethers with the Wilkes’, she noticed how no one in Maya’s family could tolerate Dana. Well, they tolerated her, but they didn’t seem to like her much.

“What have you guys got against Dana?”

Maya’s reply was circumspect. “Mom doesn’t like it when she asks her about going back to work.” Kate had seen how Alicia’s choice to leave the work-a-day world completely fascinated Dana, and while her aunt was always careful to introduce the subject, her curiosity provided a spark to the dry tinder of Alicia’s beliefs regarding work and family.

Kate thought Alicia overreacted. “Hmm. I think she’s pretty and has cool stories.” Maya shrugged.

Kate loved the image her aunt put forth of the good life and the path to self-fulfillment, and she continued to listen devotedly to Dana throughout her childhood. Her reward for all her admiration was endearment; Kate found herself cast in the roll of protégé worthy of Dana’s sponsorship, a role she very much came to value as she mused over her own career options and life’s choices.

Eventually, her mother stopped trying to school her beliefs against Dana, which was when she began to notice the difference between her aunt’s vision of happiness and the unhappiness it seemed, in fact, to create. She would not be convinced the benefits weren’t worth the cost, however. Not yet.