The Nature of Love

Chapter 20

     "Of course, Grandma," Leah says. "We're not babies."

     The girls run off to the den. "They're growing so fast," my mother says. "I hardly recognize them from one visit to the next."

     If this is a gibe that I don't bring the children to visit enough, I ignore it. I've got bigger fish to fry.

     "How are you doing, Mom?" I ask. I sit down next to her on the living room couch. "Is the lawyer taking care of everything?"

     "Yes. And Uncle Arthur has been so helpful."

     I nod. "Maybe you should work in the business. Give you something to do."

     "No, no. I couldn't do that. I've never taken care of anything like that. And my volunteer activities keep me busy."

     Volunteer activities. My mother is from a different generation of women, one which consumes all its best creative energies with rummage sales and bake sales. Small efforts compared to what these women could accomplish.

     "How's Steve? Busy working as always?"

     Now's the time. There's no turning back. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Steve."

     "Why? Is something wrong? Is he ill?"

     "No, he's fine. It's just that I've asked him to move out."

     "You've what!"

     "I've asked him to move out – to live someplace else."

     "Jennifer Rubin Silberman! How could you do that!"

     I study my fingernails. Yes, it's a good question. How could I ask the father of my children, a decent provider, not an alcoholic, gambler, womanizer, or wife beater, to leave?

     I raise my eyes to my mother's face. "Because he doesn't know how to love me and he's always at his lab and I'm always alone with the children."

     "Jennifer, that's what a man does. He works hard and provides for his family -- just the way your father did for us. The wife takes care of the children, the home, and her husband's needs. It's only you who insists on working too, having your own 'career,' while your children are young."

     I walk to the mantelpiece. There's a photo of my father in casual clothes, clothes he rarely wore. I don't turn around.

     "Daddy thought my work was important, studying and teaching about women in the United States, helping to preserve their accomplishments. It's you who can't accept that I'm not like you, not willing to focus my life on how polished the children's shoes are and whether each meal is well-balanced."

     "Jennifer!"

     My head whips around. Grey brows are squeezed together and thin lines radiate from her mouth.

     "How dare you insult me!"

     I throw my arms around her. "Mom, I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just trying to explain."

     My mother pulls away. "Do the children know?"

     I shake my head. "I wanted to tell you first."

     "Then we won't speak of this again during your visit. I beg you to reconsider before you tear your family apart. Even you cannot predict where this drastic step could lead."

     My mother leaves the room before I can say anything more. Tears pool in my eyes. I cannot undo what I have started.

***