The Wedding (34 page)

I don't see how, Jeff ' but I'll try. I promise.

I told her we'd come out the last weekend in April. He was holding his breath, praying she'd agree to do it. His mother was already upset that Jeff had proposed to Allegra before she had met her. Can you do it?

I'll do it, I'll do it. It was two days before the first concert of Bram's tour, a local one fortunately, but it was still going to be a major effort.

We'll just go over the weekend, overnight if you'd prefer. He was willing to do anything to accommodate her, but it meant a lot to him, and she couldn't deny him that. He'd done nothing but help her and be understanding since the day they met. She owed him this much. If you want, we could stop and see your father in Boston on the way back, Jeff suggested, trying to be equitable, but there was an immediate silence.

Charles Stanton is not my father. He was still dying to know why not, and she still hadn't told him. But her comment gave him the opportunity to ask her that night, while they were both cooking dinner. They had it down to a science now. He did the meat, and she did all the trimmings. She was good at vegetables and salads and all the tasty, decorative little goodies, and he loved doing steaks, and chops, and chicken. But when he asked her again, as usual, there was a long silence.

Maybe I should stop asking you? he suggested. She'd been avoiding the questions for two weeks, ever since he'd first heard about him. But I'd kind of like to know why it was so traumatic. Maybe we do need to get this over with. What does your therapist think? Have you asked her? he asked fairly, and Allegra nodded.

She said to tell you. There was another long silence as she put his rice and broccoli on his plate, and Jeff added a slice of broiled fish to it. It made a very appealing dinner. She had also made garlic bread, and a small salad.

Voila! he said with a flourish as they sat down, and Allegra smiled a wintry smile at him. She was thinking of Charles Stanton. And it was as though Jeff had read her mind. Why do you hate him so much, Allie? he asked quietly. What did he do to you, or your mom? Jeff guessed it must have been pretty awful. But she shrugged as she started to pick at her dinner.

He really didn't do anything ' then. ' It's more what he didn't do after. ' I had a brother named Patrick ' Paddy. She smiled, looking up at Jeff. He was my hero. He was five years older than I was. He did everything for me ' I was his little princess. Most brothers beat their sisters up' . Paddy never did. He fixed my dolls when they broke, he put my mittens on, he tied my shoelaces, till ' Her eyes filled with tears; they always did when she talked about Paddy. She still had a picture of him. She kept it in a locked drawer in her office. She couldn't bear putting it on the desk. It still hurt too much almost twenty-five years later. He died when I was five, she said in a strangled voice. He had a rare form of leukemia, which they couldn't cure in those days. And they're not always lucky with it now either. He knew he was going to die. He used to tell me that he was going to go up to heaven and wait for me. Her eyes filled with tears again and Jeff stopped eating and reached out a hand to touch her.

I'm sorry. He felt a lump in his throat as he said it.

She nodded, but went on now that she had started. Maybe Dr. Green was right. It was better to tell him and have it done with. I used to beg him not to leave me. But he said he had to. He was so sick at the end. I still remember it. You're not supposed to remember things about when you were five, not much anyway. I remember everything about Paddy. I remember the day he died. She choked on the words but went on anyway, and Jeff handed her a paper napkin. She smiled at him through her tears, and wished he could have met her brother. She wished he were still alive. She had wished that often.

I think my dad went kind of crazy when he died. He had tried treating him at the end, apparently. I didn't know that, but Mom told me later. But he couldn't do anything. No one could. But that was my father's specialty and it drove him crazy that he couldn't help him. He never thought much of me, maybe because I was so young, or a girl, or ' I don't know ' I don't remember much about him, just Paddy. My father was never really there, he was always working. And then my brother died and he fell apart, and he took it out on my mother. He shouted at her all the time, he blamed her for everything. And somehow, like all kids, I thought it was my fault. I thought I had done something terrible to make Paddy die and my father hate us. All I remembered was his screaming.

It went on like that for about a year. I think he was drinking a lot. My parents fought all the time, their whole marriage fell apart. I used to hide in the closet and cry at night, so I wouldn't hear them fighting.

It sounds awful, Jeff said sympathetically.

It was. Eventually, he started hitting her. I was always afraid he would hit me, and I always felt guilty for not stopping it, but there was nothing I could do. And I kept thinking that if Paddy hadn't died, none of that would have happened, but maybe it would have. He started blaming my mom for everything, he even said it was her fault Paddy had died, and she said she was going to leave him. He told her that if she did, he'd turn his back on us and we'd starve in the street without him. My mom had no family, and I guess she didn't have any money saved up. A long time later, she told me she had a plan, and she started sending short stories to magazines. She saved a few thousand dollars. And one night after he beat her up, she took me and we left. I remember we stayed in a hotel where it was really cold, and I remember being very hungry, and she bought me donuts. She was probably scared to death to spend much money.

I think we hid there for a while, and he never found us, but then she went to talk to him at his office, and she took me with her. Everyone at his office acted like he was a god or something, and he was a big deal at Harvard Medical School. Nobody knew that he used to beat my mother up, or any of it. They just felt sorry for him because of Paddy.

Mom told him she wanted to go away, and he told her that if she did, he'd never see either of us again, and I could die too for all he cared. He said that if we left, I was no longer his daughter. Her eyes swam in tears again as Jeff continued to squeeze her hand, but said nothing. That's what he said, I was no longer his daughter. And Mom said we were leaving anyway. He said we were both dead, as we left his office. And I kept waiting to die after we left it. He didn't say good-bye, or kiss me or anything. He acted like he hated us. I guess he hated my mom just then, and in his head, I was all rolled up with it. My mom said he'd change his mind after a while, and I would always be his daughter. She said he was just really sad about Paddy, and acting crazy. And she told me we were going out to California. We came by bus, and every now and then she'd call him, but he'd never talk to her and even hung up on her.

When we got to L.A., she started writing for television right away. I think she got some lucky breaks, they really liked her stuff. And she told her story to some man at the network one day when I was with her, and he cried while he listened. I think he gave her a lot of work. And about six months after we got here, she met Simon. I was six and a half by then. We left Boston right after my sixth birthday. We had been in the freezing cold hotel on my birthday, and there had been no cake and no presents. Daddy never even said happy birthday or called me. But after everything that had happened to us in the past year, I felt I didn't deserve anything anyway. I felt to blame for everything, but I was never quite sure why. I just figured it was my fault.

For years I wrote to my father, asking him to forgive us, and he never wrote back to me. And finally he did write and he told me that what my mother had done was disgraceful and unforgivable, that she should never have left him. She had gone to Hollywood like a whore, and abandoned him, and that I was living a life of sin and debauchery in California and he didn't want to know me. I tore the letter up so I wouldn't have to see it. And I cried for weeks. But by then, Simon was like a father to me. And eventually, I just gave up on Charles Stanton. She never referred to him anymore as her father. He came out to see me, or I guess he happened to be in California, when I was about fifteen, and for some reason he called, and I wanted to see him. And he agreed to see me. I was so curious about him. I wanted to see what he was like then. But it was just more of the same. I had tea with him at the Bel Air. Mom dropped me off, and all he did was say a lot of terrible things about her. He never asked about me, or said he was sorry he hadn't seen me in ten years or that he hadn't written to me. He just said that I was a lot like my mother and he was sorry to see it. He said that she and I had been very unfair to him and we would pay for it one day. It was a horrible afternoon, and I ran all the way home, I didn't even wait for Mom to pick me up. I just wanted to get away from him. And I never heard from him again, until I was stupid enough to invite him to my graduation from college seven years later. And he actually came, to Yale, and he dumped all over me again, but by then I was kind of fed up with the whole thing. I told him I never wanted to see him again after he insulted my mother at the graduation.

He sent me a Christmas card once, God only knows why, and I wrote and told him I was in law school. And I never heard from him again. He completely abandoned and rejected me. My mom may have left him in Boston, but I was still his daughter. He didn't have to cross me out of his life completely, but he did. And for years, I always had this obsession with wanting to see him, wanting to hear from him, wanting to run after him. But I'm over it now. I don't give a damn anymore. It's over. He's gone, he's not my father. And now my mother wants to put him on our wedding invitation. I can't believe it. But I'm not having my name on the same page as his, I can tell you. He's not my father. And he doesn't want to be either. The only decent thing he could have ever done for me was let me go completely and let Simon adopt me, and when I asked him to do that, that day at the Bel Air when I was fifteen, he said that was rude and humiliating and he would never do it. The guy is a completely selfish sonofabitch, and I don't care how respectable he is, or what a good doctor, he's a miserable human being. And he's no longer my father. He had abandoned her emotionally, and she had paid for it for almost twenty-five years. She was not yet ready to forgive him, and she doubted if she ever would be.

I can see why you feel that way about him, Allie. Why invite him to the wedding? You certainly don't have to. He felt so sorry for her after hearing all of it. Although he knew that she had had a good life and a far happier childhood in the home of Simon Steinberg. But the early loss of her brother, and the rejection of her natural father, had obviously hurt her deeply. And she had looked for rejecting men for years, in order to continue the same story. But at last, after years of help from Dr. Green, she had finally broken the pattern.

My mother thinks I should include him. Can you believe that? I think she's crazy. She's trying to heap her old guilt, and whatever relationship she may have had with him all those years ago, on me, and she expects me to carry it along. And I'm not going to. I don't care if the bastard dies on my doorstep, I don't want him at our wedding.

Then don't have him, Jeff said simply.

Tell Mom. She's driving me nuts over this. She keeps asking if I called him. And I told her, I'm not going to.

What does Simon say?

I haven't asked him, but he's always so obsessed with being fair. That's why I invited my father to my graduation. Simon kept saying that it wasn't fair not to invite him, that he would be so proud of me. But he didn't give a damn. He just came and was rude to everyone, even Sam, and she was only ten years old then. Scott hated him on sight. He never understood who he was. I wouldn't let Mom and Simon tell him. They just said he was an old friend. They know now, but I never used to admit to them that Simon wasn't my father. I was always afraid that it would make me a second-class citizen and they wouldn't love me as much, but the truth is, Simon never treated me any differently than the others. If anything, he treated me better. She smiled, and then sighed, poking at her fish again. And then she looked back at Jeff. I've been very lucky, except for the early days. But they had obviously traumatized her, and it had taken years to recover. So what do you think I should do? she asked Jeff fairly.

Whatever you like, he stressed again, this is our wedding. You do what you want, not what your mother thinks you should do.

I think she still feels guilty for leaving him sometimes, so she wants to throw him a bone to make him feel better. But I don't owe him that, Jeff. Not with my life. He's never, ever been decent to me.

You don't owe him anything. I think I'd tell your mother to keep him off the invitations, Jeff said firmly.

I agree with you, she said, relieved that he at least understood. And I don't care if it is proper to put him on. How proper has he been to me for the last twenty-four years?

He never remarried? Jeff was curious. It was, in its own way, for all concerned a tragic story. And her brother dying must have devastated them all, to the point that they could no longer recover.

He never remarried, Allegra confirmed. Who would want him?

He may not be as disturbed as he was then, you know. That all sounds pretty traumatic.

So was my early childhood. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, relieved that it was all out in the open. Anyway, now you know all my ugly secrets. I'm really Allegra Charlotte Stanton, except if you ever call me that, I'll kill you. Steinberg suits me just fine, she said bluntly.