Eve
I cried. I wept into the pillow. I wept into the pillow. I was under the covers, fully dressed. The room was dark and even the streetlights were enveloped in the nighttime.
Despite everything else that had transpired that day, my mind was stuck on the thought of Jeff with Elaine. It was almost as though that was the only truth large enough to hold my overwhelming heartache. I knew it was smoke and mirrors –there were far graver things to drown in-- but I didn't care, the darkness of most recent infidelity consumed me. I knew from the gift Jeff had chosen and from the sound of her voice on the phone. I knew he was going to leave me for Elaine. That thought stirred the shadows in me. No one could really love me. Clara was right. I was an impostor. I was trying to steal something from her that rightly had belonged to her real mother. Charlie and Jeffery were gone too, in their way. I was completely irrelevant in this family life I'd fought so hard to create.
Mostly, it was Jeff. He saw the truth about my worthlessness, that's why he treated me the way he always had.
The diamond earrings turned over and over in my mind. Each time, it sent a searing pain into me. I was almost 50 years old. I had chosen the life I'd lived. Every step of the way I'd been complicit in securing a pathetic, powerless life for myself. It was shameful. At that moment, I wished so badly that I had a mother to talk to. I had no one. I cried harder. I realized I'd always wanted what I'd been for Clara.
I heard the bedroom door open. I knew it was Jeff and I saw his shadow grow larger as he came close to me. I turned over and faced the other direction. He sat on the bed next to me and put his hand on the covers over my waist. I didn't move, all I could do was cry.
"The boys left." He whispered.
I couldn't speak. I could only cry.
"What's going on?" He asked. He touched my hair. "Sweetheart look at me for a moment."
I was able to stop crying for a minute. "Please leave me alone for a while."
I heard him sigh. "Let me bring you something to eat, let me sit with you. Talk to me, Eve."
I turned and looked at him. I'd been crying so hard for over an hour. My face must have looked horrible.
"Oh Eve. You look so sad."
"I'm not doing the thing we do." I said. "This is different. I honestly want you to go."
"What thing we do?"
"The game we play where I'm angry with you and you seduce me back."
"No. Eve, I want to help you."
I started to cry again. "Just go. You can visit your girlfriend, your lover—whatever she is. Honestly, I don't care. I want to be alone. I'm so sad." I turned over and cried.
He rubbed my back. "I'm not going anywhere, Eve."
I looked at him again. "Please leave me alone. Please."
He nodded and left the room. Several more hours passed. I half slept but mostly I cried. I was completely hollow inside. It was my age. There was no longer any potential for anything. It had all been decided. I heard the door open again. I saw the light from the hallway break through the darkness. I was about to tell Jeff to leave again, but I realized the silhouette was Clara.
"Mommy?" I heard her say. She sounded like a child and I assumed she was drunk or high.
"What is it Clara?" I tried to make my voice sound normal and I did, except for a hoarseness I couldn't disguise.
"May I come in?" her silhouette was frozen in the doorway.
"Of course." Just having to be a mother in that moment shifted my feelings. They moved from self-pity to compassion for her. She came over and sat down on the edge of the bed next to me. I sat up and leaned back against the headboard. I turned on the light on the bedside table. I could see that she wasn't high; she was frightened. I touched her face and she started to cry.
"I'm sorry, darling." I said. "I'm so sorry. I lost control of myself."
She just cried. I held open my arms and she collapsed against me. I wrapped my arms around her and she wept. I could feel myself breaking down over causing her such heartache. I kissed her on top of the head and rubbed her back. "It's not fair," I said. "It's not fair everything you've had to go through." I let her cry for a time. Then she pulled away.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I think I'm like daddy." She looked at me for a moment. "I keep hurting you to see if you'll always love me."
I smiled at her. "I wish what you're feeling were that simple." I smoothed her hair and stared at her. "I had no right to say those things to you." I shook my head. "I don't know what's wrong with me. The thing is Clara. We all love you. Everyone in this family loves you so much. This woman that you're seeing. She loves you, doesn't she?"
Clara frowned and wiped tears from her eyes. When she did I noticed all the silver and turquoise rings. They looked heavy on her tiny body."
"I don't know if she loves me or not." Clara said.
"You're going to be happy, sweetheart. Daddy and I have a crazy relationship. I'm afraid we've made things hard for you kids. But, you're so smart and beautiful. And we do love you."
"Are you leaving daddy?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know."
She fiddled with her rings. "Why does he have to be so selfish? Not just with you but with all of us?"
"I don't know," I whispered, "I must have led him to believe that was all right."
She shook her head and looked away.
I recognized the old defiance. "Why did you just act like that? What did I say?"
"It's the way you say that daddy's behavior is your fault. You can't ever blame him. It doesn't make you a better person, mom. Believe me he's a grown man, he can handle taking responsibility. I wish you wouldn't say the things he does isn't his fault."
I didn't respond. She moved to me again and I held her in my arms. She whispered from against me, "can I sleep in here with you tonight?"
I laughed a little. "Yes. Of course you can. You haven't done that in a long time."
She moved away a little and smiled at me, then her face turned serious. "I'm scared." She said. She examined me with her large, beautiful blue eyes. "I'm so afraid I don't think I can do it."
"Do what?"
"I don't know if I can keep feeling like this."
"Do you want to hurt yourself?"
"No," she whispered, "I'm just scared."
"What will make you feel better?"
"If I stay with you." Her lip started to tremble. "If I know you're still my mother."
"I'll always be your mother. I'm sorry for what I said to you."
She wiped her eyes. "I can sleep in here?"
"Of course." She lightened again. That was something that frightened me. How quickly her mood shifted.
"I'll pull the TV closer to the bed. I'll bring us some turkey sandwiches. We can have a picnic and watch TV together."
"That's what we did when you were little." She started to get up. "Clara, if you see daddy down there. I don't want to see him right now." I expected her to say he'd left the house. I imagined he was making love to another woman.
"I'll tell him it's girls only. What can he say to that?" She opened the door and the brighter light of the hallway illuminated her again. This time I could make out her features. "No boys allowed."
I smiled. Just before she closed the door behind her I called to her. "Clara?" She looked back and I said "I'm so sorry I said those things. I love you very much. I always will."
The next morning Clara got out of bed early. Jeff was going to bring her to the airport for her flight back to California. I got out of bed too because I didn't want to be alone in the room with Jeff while he got ready. Ordinarily, I would have gotten up before them both, made myself look presentable and had coffee and breakfast ready. I didn't. I just put on my robe and went downstairs into the kitchen. Jeff was standing over the counter reading the newspaper.
He looked up at me. "How are you? I made coffee."
"Thank you." I walked past him and removed a cup from the cabinet. I poured a cup and walked into the parlor. The Christmas lights were on and the room smelled like pine needles. I sat on the couch and stared at the scene. It showed evidence of the holiday having come and gone: scraps of wrapping paper, the couch pillows out of place, the toy train half derailed. I smiled thinking of my children then of Frankie playing under the tree. As a child, Jeffery would make his GI Joe climb the up the branches. I was always so afraid he'd pull the tree down. I looked up and Jeff was in front of me.
"I'm not doing what we do, so please don't say anything to make me feel better."
"OK."
"Are you bringing Clara to the airport?"
He nodded. He didn't sit down but he didn't leave either. "Can I get you anything before I go up and get dressed?"
"No." I took a sip of coffee and stared back at the Christmas tree. He didn't leave. I spoke without looking at him. "If you want to go somewhere afterwards, to your studio—wherever—go ahead. I'm going to get ready for school to start. I have a lot of work to do." When he didn't respond I looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on me.
"Are you leaving me, Eve?"
I started to cry and covered my face with my hands. I didn't look at him. "Just go where you need to go. Go be with her. Or where ever you want to go."
"Stop it. Eve can we talk about this?" When I didn't respond, he turned and walked out of the room. I didn't look up until I heard him walking up the stairs. I expected a door to slam, but none did.
After they left I went into my bathroom and ran a tub. I sat on the bench while the water filled. The warm steam felt good on my skin. Once the bath was full I took off my robe and hung it on the hook behind the door. Then, I took off my nightgown. I submerged myself in the hot water. Despite my grief, I gave into my ruminations and allowed myself to imagine him with someone else. I cried. I thought of how alone I was. Again the darkness was creeping in. My respite with Clara was the same as when the children were young. Through my love for them I kept the unspeakable sadness at bay, but it was there. I closed my eyes and tried to remember. I tried to find one memory of my own mother that wasn't filled with fear over losing her.
I remained in the tub, lost and devastated for a long time. I stayed in long after the water had grown cold. When I got out, I slipped my robe on. I tied the belt. I wet a washcloth with cold water and dabbed my eyes trying to reduce the swelling from crying. When I walked out of the bathroom I saw that Jeff was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I don't' know. Waiting for you."
"Was Clara OK?"
He looked up at me. His eyes looked weary and full of sadness. He nodded. "She's better than I've seen her in a long time. You're a good mother."
I scoffed. "That's nice of you to say, but obviously I'm not."
"Stop it." He said. "You love her. You love them all."
I looked away to stop myself from crying. "What do you want?"
"I want us to be together."
I shook my head. "No you don't. You want to hurt me. You don't love me. You don't respect me." I rolled by eyes and felt them fill with tears again. I wiped them with my finger. Just leave me alone. Please."
He walked over to me; stood close.
"Don't," I said. "Please don't touch me. You don't love me. You've never really have. I'm not saying it to act childish. I have to accept things for what they are."
He stood and just watched me.
I started to cry. "At one time, I was like Charlotte. You know that. I could have had a different life than this one."
"I know that." He was examining me. "I know you could have."
I nodded. "If you hadn't—"
"I know you could have. But, I thought you liked your life—most of it. Would you have given up the children? The times we've had—when things were good? You've gone to school and you are a teacher. You have friends."
I looked out towards the window. The snow had stopped falling. The sun was a bright yellow. The sky was blue, no clouds. "That's true but I'm talking about freedom. Something happened when I met you. I went crazy. I can't get away from you."
"Are you leaving me, Eve?"
I swallowed hard. "I feel like I'm standing here and there's an audience waiting. Maybe it's our children, or all the people over the years who've said I'm crazy for being with you. Maybe it's my friends. But, it's the final act and they are waiting for me to finally get it right. To leave you once and for all. To realize that you don't love me."
"Or...maybe I really do love you. Maybe that's why you stay with me. Eve, this is nonsense -- you know that I love you. Despite what a bastard I am."
I shrugged.
"And I know you're in love with me. Even when you say you're not. Even when you tell me you hate me, I know how you really feel about me."
He walked over to me and stood close. "It's not just romantic love. You're my closest friend, the only person I need. I look forward to being with you."
I stepped away and walked over to the table and retrieved a cigarette from the pack. I lit it and sat down on the bed. Jeff sat down next to me.
"OK. It's true." I said. I felt so worn out, sad. "I've always been in love with you. Almost every day I think about when we first met."
He touched my cheek, leaned down and kissed my forehead. I looked at him. "I do. You're the most handsome man I've ever seen. When we're together I feel privileged. Even Jeffery said it. He said that we all admire you. We want your attention." I inhaled the smoke. "And it's the same way with the children. I love them so much and when they are with me all I want to do is care for them. Even now that they're older. I've always loved them more than anything."
"You're a good wife and mother."
I flicked my ash. "The thing is I'm not. I don't even know what a wife and mother are supposed to be. I never had that as a child. I sometimes think I'm just wanting so much—for myself. I'm draining all of you with this expectation. Expecting you to see that I'm the ideal mother and wife."
"What are you talking about?"
"Then, when the kids are gone and I'm back at work and meeting with my various groups—" I looked at him for a long moment. "All of that womanly failure dissipates. All of my attempts-- desperation. It is suddenly gone. I'm not weak. I think a part of me is damaged whenever I'm with you. That's the other side of how much I want you all the time. I'm desperate for you. And then it's gone when, I get in front of a class of kids or meet with my friends from the voter education group--."
He interrupted. "I'm not following you, Eve."
"I'm not making sense...I'm a failure at being a wife and mother. When I'm out of my place as wife and mother I'm a different person. My friends tell me I have to leave you—They say that once I'm far enough away from our relationship, I'll realize it's masochism. That what I do with you is—"
"What kind of friend says a thing like that?
"I get so crazy here with you. I wanted everything to be perfect yesterday." I started crying again.
"I know you did. And it was. Families have problems. You made everything perfect. Clara ruined the last few hours. Not you."
I looked at him and a rage passed through me, "Jeff men don't give women diamond earrings unless it's a serious relationship. You did things like that with me when you were falling in love with me."
"I didn't give them to her. I told you that."
"Then where are they?"
"I'll go to the studio right now and get them."
"Or to the post office box and get another pair from your grandmother's collection?"
"Are you calling me a liar?"
I shook my head. "I don't know – Jeff, I'm a different person when I'm teaching or even when I'm talking with Joanie or Matt. I'll notice it. I'll think. Things are calm, maybe a little boring but I'm not crazy. I'm not desperate or t self-conscious. I even sound like a different person. Smarter, clever."
He was looking at me with disbelief. "What do you mean when you see Matt?"
"Or any of my friends."
"When do you see him?"
"We've stayed friends. You know that."
"No I didn't know that. How often are you seeing him?"
"I don't know a couple of times a week for coffee or we— we do some of the same political--"
"Jesus Eve. That's an affair."
"No it's not. How can you say that? I'd be perfectly fine if you went for coffee with a woman."
"When did you start meeting up with him again?"
"What?" I snuffed my cigarette out in the ashtray. I could see he was angry. I didn't say anything else.
"Jesus Christ. Is he the audience waiting for you to decide to leave me? He's the one who is telling you you're a masochist for being my wife?"
"I just told you I'm in love with you. I told you that you're the only person I want."
He shook his head. "Your hypocrisy never ceases to amaze me."
"Stop it."
"Is he still married?"
"No. They broke up a couple of years ago. Don't call me a hypocrite."
"Jesus Eve. Not fifteen minutes ago, you were acting like you were going to drown yourself in the bathtub—You've been crying for two days, telling me how lonely and empty you are. Now you're telling me that you only feel that way when you're with me...and our children? But you feel smart and clever with your ex-lover? Eve if you want that Goddamned life so bad, why don't you go and get it?"
I started to cry. "Why can't you listen to me?"
"Because you talk in circles. I start feeling sorry for you. I stay home with you, try to care for you and then you snap out of it and tell me that you're with that guy again."
"I never said that! You feel sorry for me and so you stay home? Opposed to? Opposed to doing what the day after Christmas? Going where? Listen to yourself for a minute."
He didn't ay anything.
"What I'm doing is not the same and you know it." I said.
"Eve. I'm a man. This Matt guy isn't sitting around listening to your problems for nothing."
"Maybe he's not like you. Maybe everything isn't a manipulation when it comes to women. He's not the kind of man who would do that."
He shook his head. "You're not that naive and you know it."
"OK I know he would if I wanted to—but I don't want to. Yes. He's the one who says I'm a masochist for staying with you. Who wouldn't? God, Jeff. Who wouldn't say that? I sat with you two nights ago while you consoled your lover over the phone. Right in front of me. So what if I can count on Matt? So what if he's the only man who treats me like a legitimate human being? That doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with him. He's been more of a friend to me than you are."
He looked at me as if I'd slapped him in the face. He didn't change expression. Finally he let out a breath, something had drained from him. He'd never looked at me with such coldness. "You slept with Ed and you've been seeing this asshole for years. We're too old for this. I don't want to be with you anymore."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because I don't." He shook his head. He stared into the room past me. "I don't want to be married to you. I don't want to have to look at you everyday and know you're lying to me."
"Don't say that."
"Eve. Stop with the act."
"I'm sorry." I said. He examined me. I walked closer to him. "Please don't say you don't want to be married to me."
"I don't want you seeing him." He said.
"He's my friend."
"I don't care. Tell me you're going to stop seeing him."
"OK."
"You're my wife Eve but you've never behaved like a wife."
"OK. I'm sorry."
"That's why you feel so lost when you're with me. You're pulled between currents. Once and for all, if you love me then be my wife."
"Don't be so angry with me."
He touched my cheek, kept his eyes on me. Then, he kissed me "just be my wife." He said.
"OK. I'll be a better wife."
"Come over here." He took my hand and led me to his dresser. He picked up something from his tray. He was still holding my hand. I saw that he had my wedding rings. "I want you to wear these from now on."
I felt a liquid fear race through my heart.
"All right?" He asked.
"OK." I nodded.
He lifted my hand and slipped the wedding band and engagement ring on my finger.
"What about you?" I whispered.
"I already told you I've ended things with that girl. I didn't give her the earrings. I didn't call her on Christmas. I'm not seeing her anymore."
"But you always end up unfaithful."
"So do you."