Life Is A Foreign Language (25 page)

In the kitchen she peeked inside the refrigerator and shut it with a shudder. She couldn’t eat a thing, but prepared a mug of hot tea, which warmed her and stopped the tremors. She went to bed, unable to sleep. The phone rang once more, but again she let it be. It was past two twenty when she glanced at the clock on her bedside table the last time this miserable night. Then she drifted into a restless sleep. In the morning her pillow was damp from tears, her eyes grainy and swollen.

Nina left home early, sneaking away like a thief before Michael could phone. She covered the distance to the airport within the speed limit, staring at the road with eyes that were blind to anything but the sun streaked asphalt. At the airport she left her car in long-term parking and checked in. As she sat near her gate, she remembered with a pang that she hadn’t told her children she’d be in New York for a few days. She dug in her deep handbag for the cell phone, but couldn’t find it. Emptying the entire wealth of the roomy bag, sorting through scraps of paper, wallet, lipsticks, a wad of tissue, but the phone wasn’t there. In her distraction she’d left it at home. She would call the children from the hotel. But Michael couldn’t reach her, and she doubted she’d have the courage to phone him.

When the ten-ten flight was announced, she boarded with relief, comforted to escape for a few days from her problem-filled life. She welcomed being able to lose herself in the masses. Nobody who counted knew exactly where she was.

Chapter 28
 

Nina saw Walter towering over the throng of people come to meet travelers.

His freckled face and shock of sandy brown hair made him stand out in the crowd. He slapped her on the back when she caught up to him, a comradely greeting, more vigorous than warm. Grabbing her carryall, he hurried ahead, leaving her to weave her way, almost running not to lose him in the crowd. Outside the terminal building she was hit by the strong wind, forced to lean into it, and spatters of rain immediately dimmed her glasses. Nearly blind, she groped her way to Walter’s car.

“You made it,” he said as they were leaving the airport. “Must have been a bumpy flight in this weather.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’d like to go straight to the hotel, if you don’t mind.”

“I thought so. Your first lecture is tomorrow at nine. I’ve committed you for lunch with the dean and the head of the medical faculty.”

“Oh Walter, no. I wish you’d asked me. I’m not in the mood to socialize.”

“I can go in your place. No big deal. What about dinner tonight?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll have room service and go over my notes.”

This set the tone for Nina’s stay in New York. She was here to give the lectures. For the rest, she wanted to be on her own.

She checked into the hotel and was given a suite, courtesy of Eastman & Merrill. In the lift going to the nineteenth floor, Walter handed her the schedule for the days ahead. Glancing at it, she shook her head. “Walter, I’m not going to attend these social functions.”

He shrugged. “I’ll cancel them.”

Accompanying her to the suite, he entered and turned on lamps in the living room. Cozy light swallowed the gloomy day.

He handed her an attaché case. “I brought your material. Here are your slides and handouts if you want to stick to your usual format.”

“Thanks. This helps. I’ll look them over.”

“If you need anything, you know where to reach me. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

She saw him to the door and locked it behind him. Alone, she stood in the vast living room, shoulders stooped, arms dangling by her sides. She was in New York, on her own.

Now what?
It was either keep busy or sleep, and she couldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, so she changed into sports clothes she always carried with her, and went to work out for a full hour in the hotel gym. On the treadmill, she set a pace that prevented thinking. Or brooding. Afterward, in her suite, she soaked in the hot tub until she felt drowsy, and the skin on her fingers turned wrinkly.

Dressed in a thick terry cloth robe provided by the hotel, Nina called Danny.

Disbelief was in his voice. “You’re giving lectures in New York? I thought you were retired.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m brain dead.” She chuckled. “I have too much energy to sit in the house and watch the grass grow. I needed an intellectual stimulant. Writing is a lonely occupation; I wanted a change.”

“Well, why not, if it makes you happy, Mami.”

Happy? I’m terribly unhappy.

“Lillian and I had lunch,” Danny said. “She mentioned the twins might visit you when school lets out.”

“Is this still conditional? I thought it was settled.” She sighed. “I’ll call her. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be away for a few days. Let’s you and I talk when I’m back in Cape Coral. Take care, chéri.”

Before dialing Lillian’s number, Nina took a bottle of mineral water from the minibar, sipping while she waited for the connection to go through. Lillian answered, and they exchanged a few words about the twins. When Nina told her she was in New York to give some lectures, Lillian jumped right in. “So, you’re getting back in the swing, Mami. I kept wondering how long you’d last before boredom made you go back to work.” Sarcasm oozing from every word.

“It’s not full-time employment. I’m here for a few days, that’s all.”

“Well, if you’re going to be busy working, what’s the point of the twins coming to visit? I thought you’d be free so you could show them around, travel, do things with them.”

“Yes, Lillian. I’ll be free this summer. We’ll go places, travel, do things together.” Nina sipped the water. “Is something wrong? Anything you care to talk about?”

The line went silent. Nina waited.

“No, Mami, nothing’s wrong.” Lillian’s sigh was audible. “And nothing’s right. Papa’s behavior upsets me. I miss you; I feel an orphan. And I’ll miss my girls something terrible when they leave. A whole month, Mami, can you imagine!”

My poor baby; if only I could carry your pain.
“Chérie, yes I can imagine. I still remember the first time you left to go to England as an exchange student. Half of my heart went with you. But I survived, and so will you. As mothers we have to help our children grow up by detaching from them with love.” With the fingers of her free hand Nina brushed at the tears running down her cheeks. “It’s a healthy separation, Lillian. Look at it this way; you make your mother and daughters happy, and you get to spend some honeymoon time with Jean-Luc.”

“You’re probably right, but I can’t let them leave. I’m not ready yet.”

Nina felt the rapid heartbeats in her fingertips as she clutched the receiver. She breathed in and out a couple of times to steady her voice. “Are you telling me you won’t stick to your promise? That you won’t allow the twins to visit as planned?”

Nina heard a sob. “It’s too early. I’m not sure you’re not going to be too busy to spend time with them. They’re still young. Christmas or next summer isn’t too late.”

“Let me remind you that we’ve already told the girls they can expect to visit me this summer. Have you thought of their disappointment?”

“I’ll talk to them, explain that there’s been a change in plans.”

“There’s been no change in plans. Be honest with them, tell them you’ve changed your mind.” Nina’s voice broke on a sob. “I’m terribly disappointed. I never expected you to go back on your word.”

The phone call over, Nina sat for a long time face buried in her hands, crying with long exhalations, short gasps of air. The girls would be so hurt.
I don’t seem to get anything right. First Michael, now Lillian.

After a while, Nina washed her face and, parched, swallowed the contents of half a can of club soda in thirsty gulps. To ward off the gloom she switched on the TV to a music channel, the volume low.

As always, work was a panacea. Preparing for the lectures, Nina checked the slides and handouts. Standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom, eyes fixed on her reflection she timed her talk—fifty minutes. She could shave a minute here and there to stay within the allotted forty-five minutes.

Nina arrived early at the University for her first talk. She stood behind the podium, letting her eyes wander over the still empty auditorium, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She checked the equipment, placed the stack of handouts within easy reach. Standing behind the podium she watched as people started streaming in. Soon the vast room was filled to capacity.

Falling back on years of experience as a public speaker, she delivered the lectures with professional ease. As always when standing in front of an audience, nervousness was replaced by inspiration. The current between her and the people in the full hall was palpable. The lectures were well received, and afterward she lingered, talking to people who approached her with a question or concern. The combination of lecturing and the personal contact inspired and thrilled her; as usual she felt euphoric. For a few hours each day she came alive with the challenge of passing on her knowledge.

At the hotel she was apathetic, fear of the future her constant companion.

Missing Michael was like an open wound. She wanted his arms around her. She longed to hear his voice, but lacked the courage to phone him, from fear he would reject her. There were moments when Nina almost panicked that she would spend the rest of her life without him.

During these days filled with long, lonely hours, Nina gradually found some clarity about her place in Michael’s life. In one of those moments of deep insight, she now saw that Michael was not the real problem. The root cause was Nina’s low self esteem. All her life she’d felt guilty for having been born. Her father had repeatedly told her how much he resented her for existing. This kind of emotional indoctrination had left indelible marks on her emotions. Andre’s negligent attitude had further undermined her sense of self.

She couldn’t change Michael, nor did she want to. But she intended to change her own attitude or she would surely be deprived of happiness with him.

Some time ago he’d said she was welcome to join his family. A strict upbringing and her stiff sense of propriety kept her from taking him at his word. To join them, she thought, would be intrusive; it would also be too early in their relationship. When he spent time with Cindy or his family, Nina felt excluded and abandoned. Separation from her own family made her sense of isolation grow to the point that she lost sense of proportion.

In this moment of serious soul searching, Nina resolved to control her emotions, not to let them have power over her. It was time to grow up. She wanted to be an equal to Michael, his partner, not this emotionally needy child-woman.

On Friday afternoon, Walter drove her to the airport. “You did a great job. If you get bored or want to do some temp work let me know, I’ll find something for you.”

Nina was satisfied that she had performed well. A split of champagne helped her relaxed during the flight. The plane approached the airport, and by the time she deplaned and located her car, she was shaky from worrying about what awaited her.

She hardly dared hope there would be a message on her answering machine from Michael.

Chapter 29
 

Driving home, Nina encountered the Friday rush hour traffic; vehicles were bumper to bumper on Route 41. Her parched mouth screamed for a drink, and she kept blinking her eyes, gritty from the dry air on the plane. When she thought the traffic would never let up, she came upon a side street blissfully empty. She drove along the quiet residential streets the rest of the way home.

Arriving at her house, she rushed immediately to check the answering machine for messages. Before pressing the “answer” button, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the machine—what if there was nothing from Michael?

From the fridge she grabbed a can of Diet Coke, and drained half of it to quench her thirst. The drink close at hand, she found the courage to listen. The canned voice announced: “You have five new messages.” She wanted to scan through them quickly to find the one from him, if there was one, but she made herself listened to each in turn.

The first message was a hang up. The second was from Danny, recorded that morning—she’d listen to this one later. She rubbed her hands against her jeans to dry them and punched the button for the next message.

“Nina, call me, please.” There was no greeting, no introduction. Michael’s voice didn’t reveal anything, the message was too brief, but at least he had phoned. Nameless fear lumped in her throat.

Instead of calling him immediately, Nina went to collect the mail from the box, aware her behavior was immature—everything about this trip and the reason for it was immature.

On the lanai Nina lit a candle and sank into one of the chairs facing the pool. Picking up the cordless phone, she punched in his number.

“Hello.”

“Michael.”

“Nina?”

“Yes, I’m back. Just got in.”

“I tried your cell phone but kept getting voice mail. You didn’t give the name of your hotel. I didn’t even know when you’d be back.”

“Oops, I thought I told you I’d be back today. By mistake I left my cell phone at home. And I learned the name of the hotel only when I arrived in New York.”

“Yesterday I went by your house. All the blinds were drawn. The house looked so lonely and forlorn.” His voice was husky.

“Well, I’m back now.”

“I thought maybe you’d gone for good.”

“You did? Without telling you? Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you were overwhelmed.”

“I was overwhelmed, and I needed to get some perspective. On us, our situation.”

“Were you scared? Is that why you left?”

“Yes, I was scared and insecure. My hallmark, insecurity.” Her laugh turned to a muffled sob. “Should I decide to leave for good, I’ll tell you first. I would never just sneak away.”

Over the line she heard him breathe. “But that’s exactly what you did, sneak away. I didn’t know what to think. These past days have been rough.”

The ice cold fist of fear clutched at her insides. He sounded so stern, so aloof. “I’m sorry, Michael. I was so mixed up. I’m afraid I acted without thinking.”