Chapter Twenty-Two
CATHERINE
Greenwich, 1972
Even though I’d convinced myself that I never should have left home in the first place, I came to realize that everything happens for a reason, and that reason was Ann Marie.
She was the light of my life. In fact, I didn’t even know my life was void of radiance until I had her back with me in the States. It was like my family—my parents and sisters—had been incomplete without her; she brought that much clarity and joy to each of us. Mom cleared out the two guest rooms in the back of the house so we’d have our own private area. I went to see Leonard Hannah, the editor of the Greenwich Times, and begged to have my job back, the one I’d never started. He gladly allowed me to work there and urged me to write about my time in Lebanon, so that’s how I began my column. Paging through my journals and writing about the foods and the culture and the people of Beirut.
“I won’t be able to write about Beirut forever,” I told Leonard.
“Make it a series of articles comparing things over there with things over here. I think it could be interesting to those of us who’ve never taken a leap of faith to save our lives. Lord knows Greenwich has enough people who refuse to go as far as Stamford, let alone the Middle East.”
Gabriel’s initial reaction was to be expected. He was angry and upset with me. He reached out to my father to try and reason with him, but Dad told him that I was a grown woman who made her own decisions. He began calling the house repeatedly, with no concern for the bills anymore, but when he became hostile and threatening, I’d stop taking his calls unless he agreed to discuss our separation. Eventually, he had no choice but to do so.
Three weeks into my reentry—as my cousin Laura called it—Jessie came up to my room as I was getting dressed and brushing my hair. It was a weekday afternoon around 4:00 p.m., and Ann Marie had just woken up from her nap. She was on my bed, making noises and staring at the ceiling. Jessie knocked and entered without waiting for my response.
“What is it?” I asked when I saw the skeptical look on her face.
“There is someone here to see you.”
“Who?”
She closed the door. “It’s Serine Miller and her husband.”
I placed the brush on my dressing table and went to sit on the bed. Belle Haven was a gated community, but Serine and her husband knew countless people who lived there, so there was no way to stop her from coming to the house. That much I’d known for sure. It was a visit I’d been dreading but expecting. Whether Gabriel had put his sister up to it or not, I would never know. She and I had met only once before, at the dinner party my parents had thrown for us after we’d eloped. Mother called it a wedding dinner and threw the affair just before we moved to Chicago in an effort to save face. About a hundred guests, including Serine and her husband, filled the dining hall at the Belle Haven Club and watched my parents pretend they were happy for us. Scotch and vodka work wonders when playing make-believe.
“Should I tell them you’re busy?”
My mouth felt dry. “Is Mother home?”
Jessie shook her head. “At the club.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second. “No, I’ll go down and see them.” I stood. “I’m sure they’re here to see their niece.” I went to Ann Marie on the bed. She was about nine months old then, and the picture of health and perfection. Her thighs and cheeks were deliciously pudgy and soft, her dark hair had grown in enough to hold a tiny satin barrette, and she smelled of talcum powder and rose petals. I leaned in close to her on the bed and inhaled before scooping her up in my arms and walking downstairs.
Serine’s face lit up when I walked into the foyer with the baby.
“Oh my, she is beautiful.” Her eyes were teary.
“Thank you,” I said.
Serine took a step closer. “How are you, CC?”
“I’m good. Glad to be home.”
“I know Gabriel misses you both terribly.”
I placed my lips on Ann Marie’s head and said nothing.
“May I hold her?” she asked, and Jessie appeared out of nowhere.
“Please come sit in the den. Can I pour you a drink?” Jessie offered.
“That would be great,” Michael said. “A seven and seven, please.”
“Have a seat and I will bring it in.” She gestured with her arm for us to leave the entryway.
Once we were seated in the den, I placed Ann Marie in Serine’s lap. “She’s a really good baby,” I said.
Serine smiled and cooed, and I waited for her to say that the baby looked just like her father, but all she did was say how beautiful she was. “Thank you for letting us meet her. I’m sorry we didn’t call ahead. Michael was in the neighborhood, and I thought you wouldn’t mind if we stopped in. I’ve been waiting for some new pictures, and this is so much better.” She looked at me. “Have you spoken to Gabriel?”
Serine and Gabriel hadn’t communicated much over the past year. She’d phoned when the baby was born to congratulate us, and he’d called her a couple of months later on her birthday, and that was the extent of it. But it wasn’t lost on me that she would’ve been one of the first people he would’ve contacted when he found out I wasn’t coming back. I was only surprised it took this long for her to be “in the neighborhood.”
“I have, yes.” I sat on a chair opposite the couch where she and Michael sat. Jessie breezed in with his cocktail and placed it on the coffee table with a coaster underneath. She walked out, but I could sense she was lurking in the hallway.
Serine exchanged a glance with her husband. “We were sorry to hear that things didn’t work out.”
I winced a little. Probably every guest at our wedding dinner was whispering behind our backs and taking bets on how long an elopement like ours would last, having known each other for such a short time. Who were we kidding thinking love and passion could conquer all? I wasn’t naive to people’s comments and gossip, and I didn’t believe that every cloud had a silver lining, but mine did. And Serine was holding her.
“I guess the cards were stacked against us. I still care about your brother,” I said, tapping into the memories of my wedding that were at the top of my mind. “But we are just very different. We share this amazing little girl, though, and he will always be in our lives.” I was disappointed by the sound of my own voice. It was meek and passive and not at all representative of how I felt about my husband, but it wasn’t the right time to vent, and certainly not the right audience.
They stayed for about thirty minutes and were just about to leave when my mom walked in the room. She was still in her afternoon tennis outfit, and Jessie came in with a martini for her just as she took a seat. It was like a well-choreographed play.
Act One: Estranged family members enter the home uninvited. Tensions stir. Decisions are made. Escape plans thwarted. All parties gather and converse.
Act Two: The mistress of the house blows in after a long afternoon of physical exertion. Her housekeeper has her cocktail ready for her as she enters the room and is forced to confront the estranged family members.
Act Three: Tension ensues.
Michael stood and gave my mother a kiss on the cheek.
“How are you both?” Mom asked.
“Happy to meet our niece after all this time.”
“As are we,” Mother said, and I wanted to kiss her myself. Serine was likely oblivious to my mom’s contempt for her brother, since Mother was a champ at masking her disdain. But where Serine was ignorant about my relationship with Gabriel and his attempts to ban me from leaving the country, Mother was not.
“Her father and I are thrilled to have them back,” Mom said.
Serine forced a smile. “I’m sure you are. How lovely to have her named after you.”
Mom smiled. “Will you be staying for dinner?” she asked in a tone that clearly implied the opposite.
Michael shook his head. “No, thank you. We’ve got to be heading back.”
My sister Margaret walked in and waved to them. “Jessie said I should get the baby. She needs her bottle.”
Serine handed Ann Marie off to her. “It must be wonderful to have all this help.”
I nodded. “It is.”
Two months after Serine and Michael’s visit, I got a telegram from Gabriel asking for permission to come see the baby and me, bring her a birthday present, and sign the divorce papers in person.