Chapter 36 - Naomi
“Jackie and I were going through a rough patch,” Jerry explains. “I wanted a career, and she wanted the opposite.”
He sighs. I stab my fork into a piece of chicken, watching him.
“Her father pulled me aside one evening. I think he could tell that we were both unhappy. He gave me this long speech about relationships being about more than just love. He told me that our priorities needed to be in line, and that I wasn’t doing anyone any favors by hanging around.”
“Grandpa said that?”
Jerry nods, chuckling bitterly.
“Yeah. I broke up with your mother the week after that conversation. It was the hardest thing I ever did. I could tell that I broke her heart. I broke my own heart.”
“And she never told you about me?”
He shakes his head, spinning his fork in his plate of pasta. A waiter glances at our table, and a couple at the table next to us bursts out laughing.
I feel like I’m in a bubble. It’s like the world is going on around me and I’m not part of it, I’m just watching it happen. It’s surreal being here, with Jerry, hearing these things.
“I never heard from Jackie after that. I moved to New York, and then down to Atlanta and over to Europe. I tried calling her, but she changed her number. Then, I guess I just stopped trying.”
“That’s understandable, I guess.”
Jerry sighs.
“I think she was trying to protect you. Or maybe trying to protect herself. When I broke up with her, I betrayed her trust. I told her I didn’t want a family, I just wanted a career.”
“So that’s why she never told you she was pregnant?”
“I guess so.” His forehead creases, and his dark brown eyes fill with pain. He looks at me, taking a deep breath. “I wish she’d told me.”
“Look, Jerry,” I say. “Don’t torture yourself about it. It was a long time ago, and by the sounds of it, you didn’t have much choice.”
“I could have tried harder to speak to her.”
“Why would you? You thought you were broken up and that was that.”
It’s strange to be comforting my own father about the one thing that plagued me my whole life. His absence was like a splinter under my skin that I just couldn’t get out. It just festered as the years went on, the pain of his leaving getting worse and worse. And now that he’s here, I’m the one trying to make him feel better.
“I’m sorry, Naomi. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I missed so much.”
I want to change the subject. I glance at his hand and note the absence of a ring.
“You never married?”
Jerry chuckles bitterly. “I was married three times.”
“Oh.”
“I always found some way to fuck it up—sorry. Screw it up.”
“You can swear,” I grin. “I’m a big girl.”
He grins. “I don’t know how to act right now. This is very weird for me.”
“Don’t worry, it’s weird for me too.”
His eyes lighten, and a smile breaks over his face. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re a lot like her.”
“Like my mom?”
“Mm,” he nods. “She was the love of my life.”
His words are like a spear through my heart. Jerry’s eyes mist, and his hand trembles as he reaches for his glass of water. He takes a sip, dabbing his lips with his napkin and clearing his throat.
“Food is good,” he says, nodding to his plate. “Good choice.”
“Yeah,” I say, looking around and trying to ignore the emotion choking my throat. “I found this place a couple years ago. My girlfriends and I come here for birthdays and stuff.”
When he drops me off back home, my mother walks him back downstairs and I sink down on the couch.
That was hard.
Meeting him, spending time with him, hearing his side of the story—it’s hard to take it all in. My entire life, it was one big question mark. And now, he seems so… human. He’s not a monster, or a drug-addicted convict, or an abusive maniac. He’s pretty normal.
A thin tendril of anger curls in my heart when I think about my mother. Why did she never tell him about me? Did she think she was protecting me?
I hear her labored footsteps coming up the stairs before the apartment door opens. Her eyes are shining and her cheeks are rosy. She hums to herself as she takes her shoes off, smiling at me as she brushes past towards the kitchen. I hear the kettle go on, and I take a deep breath.
She was protecting herself.
I think of Jerry’s face when he told me she was the love of his life, and how my mom reacted when he first showed up at my apartment. I think of the spring in her step since he’s been around, and how that compares with the darkness that clouded over her whenever I’d mention him when I was a kid.
Maybe he was the love of her life, too. And by cutting herself off completely, she thought she was protecting herself, and maybe me, from the pain of the heartbreak.
She denied me a relationship with my father, though. For decades.
I look over at her, and then sink down on the couch and close my eyes. I see Max’s face in my mind’s eye. He’s combing his fingers through his hair, smiling that irresistible smile at me. My heart thumps as I imagine his voice, his smile, his touch.
A second later, my heart is breaking all over again. My mother clears her throat and I open my eyes to see her drop a cup of tea in front of me. I smile in thanks, and then I understand.
This is what she was protecting herself from. The heartbreak—the searing pain that cuts through my body every time I think of him. The feeling that the world is just a little bit duller, a little bit less colorful and less vibrant when he’s not around.
Does it last forever?
I pick up the steaming mug of tea and take a sip. Mom sits down in the recliner, staring out the window and smiling to herself. She has her hands clasped over her heart and a smile floating on her lips.
I think my mom was wrong to cut Jerry out of her life. For the millionth time, I wonder if I made a mistake with Max, too.