Year of the Monsoon Page 13
Length: 19 inches
Transfixed, Leisa flipped the pages of the small keepsake book to find faded photos of a newborn baby girl, so blond she seemed to be bald.
“I kept these, tucked away all these years,” Eleanor said softly. “I didn’t know if I would ever have the chance to show them to you. I never imagined we’d ever really meet and get to know each other.”
Forgetting her earlier caution, Leisa reached across the table and took Eleanor’s hand. Eleanor opened her mouth as if she were going to say something and then seemed to change her mind.
“What is it?” Leisa asked.
Eleanor looked at Leisa shyly. “I did have something I wanted to ask you.”
“You can ask me anything.”
Nan finished an appointment with a client and turned to her computer to document the session. She glanced at her cell phone and saw that she had missed a call from Leisa. She pressed her hand to her mouth as she stared at the screen, debating what to do. After a long while, she picked the phone up and called Leisa back.
“Nan?”
The silence stretched on for several seconds before Nan spoke. “I’m here.”
“Are you in between clients?”
“Yes. Where are you?” Nan asked, carefully controlling her voice.
“In the car on the way back from Ithaca,” Leisa sighed. “Probably a mistake. One of many lately,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“So, you met her,” Nan said.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She’s actually very nice,” Leisa said.
“I can hear the ‘but’,” Nan said.
“But she has a son about seven years younger than I am. He is a monster, and she completely dotes on him. It’s kind of sickening to watch, because he treats her like dirt. He doesn’t lift a finger around there, and she waits on him hand and foot because he’s diabetic.”
“So what kept you longer than just the weekend?”
“Well, I wanted to spend more time with her,” Leisa said. “I helped clean things up around the house and yard, because I know he won’t do it.”
Nan was again silent for several seconds. “Do you feel like meeting her was the right thing to do?”
“I don’t know. I guess. But they definitely had a plan,” Leisa said.
“What do you mean?”
“They want me to be tested to see if I could donate a kidney to him.”
“They want what?” Nan asked in disbelief.
“He’s on the verge of kidney failure,” Leisa explained. “Apparently, there’s something weird about his blood type or antigens or something, and they haven’t been able to find a suitable donor.” She was quiet for a moment. “That’s probably the only reason she registered to find me.”
“I doubt that,” Nan said. Something about the vulnerability in Leisa’s voice prompted her to offer comfort even as part of her brain questioned why she was being so understanding. “I’m sure she wanted to meet you even if there were also other reasons. What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Leisa said. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“What are you thinking now?”
Leisa was quiet again as she thought. “I’m not sure how I could say no.”
“Simple,” Nan said curtly. “You just say no.”
“You know what I mean. If he has to go on dialysis or dies because he doesn’t get a kidney, how am I going to live with myself?”
“I guess.”
Nan could hear Leisa’s turn signal and the rumble of a truck in the background. “Thanks for being there,” Leisa said. “There isn’t anyone else I could really talk to about this.”
“Not even Sarah?”
Nan’s eyes squeezed shut as she heard Leisa’s sharp intake of breath. She hadn’t meant for that to come bursting out like it did. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That was…” Her voice cracked.
She covered the phone with her hand, trying to muffle the sounds of her crying.
“Who –?” Leisa began. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter how you found out. I should have told you right away when I ran into her.” There was a pause. “Are you all right?”
Nan couldn’t answer right away. They sat silently, listening to one another’s breathing as long seconds ticked by.
“Nan?” Leisa prompted hesitantly.
“No, I’m not all right,” Nan managed to say in a strangled voice. “How do you expect me to be? I’ve tried to be patient, giving you time to work through what you need to work through, thinking that’s all you’re doing. And then I find out you’re… you’re… with Sarah of all people for God’s sake!” Nan shoved her fist against her teeth to stop herself before she said something she really regretted.
“I need to get off the phone,” she whispered, feeling more tears coming.
“Please –” Leisa began, but her voice was cut off when Nan hung up.
“It’s amazing how cruel people can be,” Nan had observed often. She was appalled at the things people said to one another – the hurtful, cutting comments. “Just the lack of common courtesy, and then they wonder why there’s no respect in the relationship.” Trying not to sound judgmental, she would usually point out to her clients, especially in couples’ counseling, that it was not healthy for a relationship when typical arguments included terms of endearment such as “Fuck you” or “Go to hell”.
But Nan knew from first-hand experience how harmful it could be to someone’s self-esteem when they heard things like that on a daily basis. “It’s so easy to start believing you deserve to be spoken to like that,” she had admitted in shame to Maddie more than once, and more than once, Maddie had said to her, “You need to get out of this relationship.”
That had been one of the most wonderful things about meeting Leisa. “She’s kind,” Nan said in wonder to Maddie. “She’s polite. She says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for everything. She makes me feel good about myself. I can’t see her ever saying anything nasty or mean.”
Maddie smiled knowingly. “I told you meeting her would be a good thing.”
Nan cradled her head in her hands. She and Leisa had never had an actual fight. No shouting. No walking out the door. No silent treatment. Any arguments had been discussed and worked out until they had made up. Up until Williamsburg. Now everything felt different between them. Hanging up is not a constructive way to handle anything, she reminded herself as the telephone rang again. “I’m sorry I did that,” she said before Leisa could say anything. “We’ll talk when you get back. I do not want to do this over the phone.”
“I’ll be back tonight,” Leisa said.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter 16
“I DON’T BELIEVE IN ‘happily ever after’,” Nan said as they strolled.
It was about a year after she and Leisa had met. They’d gone to Provincetown for a long fall weekend, flying up to Boston and taking the ferry over.
Leisa tilted her head. “What, you don’t believe people can stay together their whole lives?”
Nan shook her head. “Not happily, and not faithfully. Not both at the same time. I’m sure there are exceptions, but I think they are exceptions.”
They stopped at the marina, watching the brightly painted boats bobbing on the water.
“You are such a cynic,” Leisa laughed.
“Occupational hazard,” Nan replied dryly. “Why aren’t you more of a cynic? Sarah wasn’t faithful to you. None of my lovers were faithful to me. My father may be faithful to my mother – I don’t really want to know – but he isn’t happy.”
“What about Lyn and Maddie?” Leisa challenged. “What about my parents and my aunt and uncle? I don’t know for certain they’ve all been faithful, but I’d be willing to bet they have. And they all truly love one another.”
Nan didn’t respond.
“Listen,” Leisa said as she took Nan’s hand. “We’re going to be one of the exceptions. I w
ill never cheat on you,” she promised. “And to prove I mean what I’m saying, I want to shop for rings while we’re here.”
Leisa clenched her jaw as she remembered that conversation. She rubbed her thumb on the ring on her left hand. It had taken years for Nan to stop questioning if Leisa was tiring of being with her, if she was still happy.
“I keep expecting you to say, ‘I’ve had enough’,” Nan had said over and over.
And Leisa had happily replied over and over, “Not yet.”
When she finally got back to Baltimore Tuesday evening, she avoided driving by Jo Ann and Bruce’s house. She had called them to say she’d be in late and would be by the next evening to get Bronwyn. She didn’t want to get waylaid by their questions about what Eleanor was like. Not now. She pulled up behind Nan’s Mini and sat there for a few minutes, not sure what she would say. She remembered when her heart used to quicken at getting home to Nan, not this painful thudding in her chest. At last, she got out and knocked on the front door.
Nan opened the door after a moment, and stood back silently to let her in. She followed Nan to the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” Nan asked. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Uh, sure,” Leisa replied. “A Coke?”
She sat at the kitchen table as Nan went to the refrigerator.
“Glass?”
“Yes, please.” She waited while Nan brought her a glass with ice and took the seat opposite.
“I’m not sure where to start,” Leisa said when Nan just sat there looking at her. She fumbled with the tab, and poured her Coke into the glass. She took a nervous drink before the foam settled and snorted what felt like half the contents up her nose.
Nan folded her hands. “When did you first see Sarah?”
Leisa thought. “Shortly after my birthday. I went to the gym and she was there.”
Nan nodded. “But you didn’t know she worked there when you joined?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Nan nodded again, her mouth tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Leisa fidgeted, wiping the frost off her glass with a fingertip. “I’m not sure,” she said lamely. “I… I meant to, but…”
Nan’s intertwined fingers tightened almost imperceptibly as she asked, “Was it because part of you was already thinking you might not be coming back?”
“No!”
“Then you were thinking you’d be coming home?” Nan prompted, her voice betraying none of the anxiety she felt inside as she pushed Leisa for an answer for the first time.
“I… I wasn’t…” Leisa stumbled. Her mind flashed back to the morning she’d left for Ithaca, the morning of that damned dream, and all the things she felt but couldn’t say out loud.
Nan looked at her and said very quietly, “I know I’ve been far from perfect lately, but you know me well enough to know there is a line I will not cross. You’re getting dangerously close to it.”
Leisa sat there helplessly, still unable to voice all the emotions churning within her.
Steeling herself, Nan said, “You have some decisions to make.”
“Come in, come in,” said Jo Ann Wednesday evening, impatiently pulling Leisa inside.
Bronwyn loudly scolded Leisa for being gone so long as she wriggled and wagged her stump of a tail.
Jo led the way to the family room where Bron jumped up into Leisa’s lap on the couch, nestling into the crook of her neck.
“So, honey,” said Jo Ann, sitting on the edge of her chair while Bruce lowered his newspaper and looked at her over the tops of his glasses. “Tell us all about her. What was she like?”
“Well, she was really nice,” Leisa said. “She never married my father. He took off when he found out she was pregnant so I don’t know anything about him. She did marry later, but is divorced now. I told you she has a son.” Leisa paused, not sure how much detail to offer about Donald. “He’s okay. Kind of lazy.”
“Does she have other family?” Jo asked.
“Nobody she’s close to. And no one who knows about me,” Leisa said, stroking Bronwyn who snuffled contentedly in her arms.
“Do you plan to see her again?” Bruce asked, watching Leisa with narrowed eyes.
Leisa could feel her cheeks get hot. “Well, yes. He, Donald, is diabetic and is close to being in kidney failure. They asked me if I would be tested to see if I’m compatible to donate a kidney.”
She’d been prepared for some resistance to the idea of donating a kidney. She was not prepared for Jo Ann’s anger.
“They just met you!” Jo declared. “And this is the first thing they ask you? To give up a kidney? You don’t even know what kind of people they are.”
Bruce, who had continued to watch Leisa closely, laid a calming hand on Jo’s arm. “It doesn’t matter what kind of people they are. We know what kind of person our niece is.” But he turned back to Leisa and said, “Did they ask for anything else?”
“No… well,” Leisa squirmed. “They didn’t ask, but she, Eleanor, did say that Donald doesn’t have any insurance and she’s not sure how she’s going to pay for this.”
“You didn’t offer?” Jo Ann asked immediately.
“No,” Leisa hastened to say. “I’m not offering any money. I only said I’d be tested. And if I’m compatible, the donor isn’t supposed to have any financial obligation.”
“Oh, honey.” Jo Ann blinked as her eyes filled with tears. “Is this the only reason they looked for you?”
Leisa didn’t answer. She couldn’t admit to her aunt that she had wondered the same thing. She remembered the baby book, kept squirreled away all these years. It has to be more than that, she said to herself.
Maddie peered over the top of Leisa’s cubicle. “Hey. Medical tests go okay?”
Leisa immediately locked her computer monitor and turned around. “Yeah. It looks like I’m a match.”
“Really?” Maddie came around into the cubicle and sat down. “Are you going to donate?”
Secretly, Leisa had hoped against hope that she wouldn’t be a match, so the decision would be taken from her hands, but “I feel like I don’t really have a choice,” she admitted now.
“You don’t owe them anything,” Maddie pointed out.
“I know but…” Leisa had tried to imagine the guilt of getting a letter from Eleanor one day telling her that Donald had died of kidney failure when she could have done something to save him. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t.”
Maddie nodded, glancing at the dark computer screen. “Anything else you want to talk about?”
Leisa felt the telltale flush in her cheeks but said, “No. Nothing else.”
Maddie nodded again. “Okay.” She got to her feet. “By the way, have you seen Mariela lately?”
With another pang of guilt, Leisa realized she hadn’t spent any time with Mariela since Easter weekend. “No, why?”
Maddie shrugged. “She was asking about you. Said she hadn’t seen you in a while.”
“I’m sorry,” said Leisa. “I’ve been so busy with getting to New York and all this medical stuff. I’ll go talk to her today.”
“Okay. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing, then,” Maddie said as she left.
Leisa turned back to her computer and brought the screen up to a job posting for a social work position with Ithaca social services. She printed off the application and put it in her bag. Then she went looking for Mariela.
Outside on the playground, Leisa spied Mariela sitting on one of the swings, barely moving. Leisa wondered if she knew how to swing and made a mental note to teach her. No one else was swinging. Even after all this time, Mariela often preferred to be alone.
“Hi,” she said, taking the empty swing next to Mariela.
Mariela didn’t respond and didn’t smile.
“What’s the matter?” Leisa asked.
Mariela looked at her sternly.
“Mariela?” Leisa prompted.
“Where hav
e you been?” Mariela asked. “You haven’t been to see me for a long time.”
“I know,” said Leisa. “I’m sorry. I had to go out of town for a few days, and then I got busy when I got back here.” Mariela stared at her stonily. “But, you’re right. It’s not a good excuse. I should have come to find you when I got back.”
She reached over and gave Mariela a little push and then pushed off herself.
“Are you going away?” Mariela asked.
“What?” Leisa dragged her feet in the dirt and stopped the swing. “Why would you ask me that?”
“You’re different,” Mariela replied. “Something is wrong. Like with my mama.”
Leisa frowned. “What do you mean?”
Mariela twisted on the swing to face Leisa. “I could tell when my mama was going away. She got different. Now you’re different.”
“They’re like abused dogs,” Maddie had said to the staff more times than Leisa could count. “The things they pick up on – body language, off-hand comments, your eye contact – they have learned how to read the people around them like you wouldn’t believe. Sometimes their lives have depended on it. They pick up on signals we don’t know we’re giving. Often when they’ve been acting up, we eventually realize it’s in response to something we didn’t even know we were doing.”
“You don’t look the same,” Mariela said.
Leisa tilted her head, puzzled. “You mean my appearance has changed?”
Mariela’s brow furrowed as she struggled to express herself. “Yes… but you don’t look the same,” she repeated. She got off the swing and stood in front of Leisa and placed her hands on either side of Leisa’s face. “You don’t look at me the same. You’re different.”
Leisa took Mariela’s hands in hers. “I guess I am different. I’ve… I’ve had some problems I have to figure out. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you,” she insisted.
“You said you wouldn’t leave.”
Leisa thought for a long moment, trying to remember. “What do you mean?”
“The night you came to get me, you told me, ‘Go to sleep. I won’t leave you.’” She stared hard into Leisa’s eyes. “Are you going away?”