Page 58

WHERE’D IT GO WRONG?

VANESSA

O ne week later…

The incessant ringing of the doorbell penetrated the house from the front door all the way to the backyard where Vanessa was busy in the garden, watering her vegetables and fruit patches.

The strawberries were coming in fabulous, already fat and juicy, but the snap peas weren’t doing so well in this mid-July heat.

She plucked a strawberry, not bothering to rinse it off before popping it in her mouth.

Everything looked great and smelled even better. The dark earth was rich and moist in her hands. But there was no flavor in that berry. None. All the food in this garden, everything she baked, broiled or sauteed, all were utterly tasteless.

She’d experienced this before, the first time she and Santino had split.

It was one of the first things she’d mentioned to her spanking brand-new therapist, Charmaine Drayton-Chang.

Charmaine had been recommended by Dani. She was Jamaican-American, married to a Jamaican-Chinese man who was a couples’ therapist. Vanessa could only wonder if two married therapists ever fought or just talked circles around each other until they were tired out.

During their first session, Charmaine had asked her, “Have you ever the expression ‘mothers love their sons but raise their daughters’?”

Lightbulbs started going off when she’d described what that meant.

Nadine had lavished affection and praise on Bobby but had raised Vanessa to be strong and independent.

It would take more time to figure out exactly why it had happened in her family specifically, but Vanessa’s needs and feelings were always put last. This had not been good for the sense of self-esteem.

Second session: her communication style sucked. That had been a tough one. They’d uncovered the ugly little truth that Vanessa had never been taught how to have a healthy disagreement.

“What do you mean? I argue for a living,” Vanessa had exclaimed.

But at home, being told to never complain, to push through her discomforts or outright pain in stoic silence, meant she hadn’t known how to clearly and calmly articulate when something was troubling her.

Of course, she’d turned around and married a natural-born button-pusher.

Instead of sitting Santino down and expressing her feelings, they boiled and bubbled inside until they suddenly erupted.

It wasn’t that he was never wrong. He was headstrong and maybe he had been immature when they’d married. But Charmaine said it sounded like in Montreal, they’d both made progress, progress she should feel proud of.

The third session had been the roughest so far: Vanessa had grown up interpreting love as being conditional upon her being perfect. And since perfection wasn’t possible for anyone, it was logical to assume she would always fail and would never really be loved, not for who she was.

So long self-worth; she’d hardly known it.

But all was definitely not lost for her. She could work on growing healthy self-confidence and true self-love. It wasn’t a done deal for her relationship with Santino, either, if she wanted it.

“I do,” Vanessa had answered without hesitation. But the look on his face when he’d left now haunted her all over again. That look had said he was done.

Charmaine had also told her it was perfectly fine, maybe even necessary right now, to put a bit of distance between herself and any triggers that made her question her self-worth.

That included the woman who had left off ringing her doorbell and was now pounding on the tall brown fence that separated her garden from the neighbor’s.

“Vanessa,” her mother called through the wooden fence. “Vanessa, I know you’re home. Your car is in the garage. Come and open this gate and stop avoiding me.”

For a moment, she contemplated pretending that she wasn’t there.

Maybe she’d gone for a walk, which wouldn’t be unusual on a Saturday afternoon when she was taking a break from sobbing uncontrollably in the tub.

Maybe she was out shopping or at Pilates class or still upstairs in that bed wrapped in a shroud of abject misery. Who knew?

But, she set the cute watering can from home shopping on the ground next to the garden kneeler, floral green, also from home shopping.

She touched the strings of wampum around her neck, not because they imparted any sort of magic or something stereotypically spiritually Native, but because they made her think of Santino and what he would say to someone who was there to give him shit.

He wouldn’t give two fucks about telling them what was up and sticking up for himself.

She went to pull open the fence door. Nadine stood there, her mouth pinched and her eyes full of indignation at having to be admitted through the backyard.

“Why are you outside in your robe with sunglasses on? You look like a Blues Brother.”

“Hey, Mom,” Vanessa said listlessly as her mother passed through the door.

Nadine walked slowly to the back patio with its neat dark gray paving stones. She surveyed the space, her eyes touching on the table and chairs, the firepit, and beyond to the flowering bushes, the garden and the tall trees waving in the light.

“This is nice. I can’t remember the last time I had an invitation,” Nadine said tersely, sitting down at the table.

“You’ve been invited many times, but I was expected to come to Bobby’s. It is, after all, the center of the known universe. Would you like something to drink?” Vanessa asked formally.

Nadine’s eyes narrowed. Through those tight teeth, she bit out, “Yes, some water.”

She waited, that mouth still scrunched, while Vanessa retrieved the water in a tall glass.

It would have taken her five minutes in the past to seek out just the right piece, something crystalline and expensive, like the set of Waterford (yes, from home shopping) but she grabbed the first thing her hand touched when the cabinet was open.

Nadine looked at the glass from the local discount store, raising an eyebrow. “This glass is chipped. This is what you serve to your guests?”

“Huh,” Vanessa said, bringing the glass to eye level to examine it.

“And so it is.” With a flick of her wrist, she flung it into the grass beyond the patio, where it bounced and rolled out of sight.

The water that had flown out left a wet trail across the paving stones.

“I’ll find you a better one if you’re still thirsty. ”

She would have given anything to have Santino there ready with his phone camera to capture the expression on Nadine’s face. She would have given anything to have Santino. The sharp agony that spread from her belly through her chest at the thought was suppressed with vicious determination.

“Have you lost your mind?” Nadine asked, so shocked she rocked back and forth in her seat, eyes wide.

“Maybe,” Vanessa answered with a shrug. “Fortunately, I finally got a therapist. I’ve got her booked for three sessions a week. She is going to get so rich off me.” She laughed softly.

“A therapist, huh? Someone to tell you everything that’s wrong is my fault, I guess. That’s what they do.”

“We talk mostly about me.”

Nadine shook her head. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Apparently, you’re back with the cheater.”

“Not exactly.” Vanessa leaned back in her chair, stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles. “We tried, and it crashed and burned. He’s actually not a cheater, by the way. I want to love him, but something’s wrong with me, so…here I am again. In my robe.”

The look Nadine gave her could have set the lawn on fire.

“Bobby’s moved out. He’s staying at your uncle’s house.

He says it’s temporary until they can figure things out, but Zoe is hysterical.

I had to leave Everly with the neighbor to come over here because Zoe can’t take care of her.

What I don’t understand is why, Vanessa?

Why would you allow Santino back into your life?

It wasn’t enough that he did what he did to you? ”

Vanessa lifted her sunglasses to have a clearer look at her mother, because surely, she could not be serious.

“Zoe told you that? She said it was Santino’s doing?

” Then Vanessa collapsed into the wooden chair, laughing, and letting the shades drop back on the bridge of her nose.

“Till the bitter end. Did she tell you she stripped naked the first chance she got alone with him? Or that the first time she tried it was at her and Bobby’s wedding?

The fact that you still believe she and Bobby had this perfect marriage and that a few days with Santino was all it took to ruin it is hilarious.

” She laughed again, harder, while Nadine’s lip started to quiver.

“I don’t see what’s funny about any of that.”

She didn’t seem surprised at the information, though. Bobby must have told her. And still, this was Santino’s fault. Vanessa’s fault. As always.

“You’re right. None of it is funny. It’s not funny that Bobby married the wrong person because it’s what you wanted.

Or that we both can’t just ever rest. I can’t be an attorney.

I have to be a partner , after only three years out of law school.

Bobby can’t just be a doctor. He has to be the top heart surgeon in the Northeast. Even your favorite can’t please you. What chance did I have?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have a favorite,” Nadine chided with a dismissive laugh.

“But you do, Mom. You make sure I and everyone else hears about it every chance you get. Bobby has the biggest house. Bobby has the best marriage. Bobby has a baby because he chose the best partner. Zoe’s so mature! Well, look at them now. Look at me.”

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion. You could have had everything he has, but you made your own bad decisions.” Nadine’s shaking fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt.