Year of the Monsoon (20 page)

Leisa used her sleeve to wipe the sweat out of her eyes as she stood to stretch her aching back. She looked around with some satisfaction at the cleaned-out flowerbeds, the raked and mowed lawn and the clean gutters. She glanced up and saw, again, Donald’s pale face watching from an upstairs window. This time, she didn’t bother hiding her disgust as she muttered, “Thanks for offering to come down and help, you worthless lump of shit.”

“Oh, no,” Eleanor had protested when Leisa first offered to stay a few extra days and help out with some of the yard chores, but she hadn’t put up much of an argument when Leisa insisted. Eleanor herself had come out to help on Sunday, but on Monday, while Eleanor was at work, Leisa had continued alone while Donald stayed up in his room, emerging only to get food from the kitchen and take it back upstairs.

“I guess it’s just us for dinner tonight,” Eleanor said with an embarrassed laugh Monday evening as she came downstairs. “I’ll just take Donnie a tray. He’s busy with some project on his computer.”

“I’ll bet he is,” but Leisa didn’t say the words aloud.

Leisa had the table set for the two of them by the time Eleanor returned.

“I almost didn’t recognize the house when I got home tonight,” Eleanor said as she dished out two bowls of stew from the crockpot and carried them to the table. “You got so much done.”

“It wouldn’t be hard if someone would just keep up with it,” Leisa couldn’t help saying.

If Eleanor got the point, she ignored it. “I might have to keep you around,” she said with a little laugh.

Leisa glanced at her but Eleanor was buttering a piece of bread. Leisa looked back down at her bowl and said, “What’s the job market like for social workers around here?”

It was Eleanor’s turn to look up in surprise. “I don’t know, but we could make some inquiries. Is that something you would think about?”

Leisa shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Just thinking out loud.”

“What about your aunt and uncle?”

“Well, it’s not that far away,” Leisa said. “It’s doable for weekends or holidays.” She speared a chunk of beef and said, “How would you feel about… you know, if I were to move up here?”

“Oh, heavens,” said Eleanor, her eyes shining. “I was hoping, maybe, you would want to do this.”

Leisa met her eyes. “You were?”

Eleanor blinked at her. “I have something I’ve wanted to show you.” She got up from the table and went to the living room where Leisa could hear a cupboard door opening and some things being moved about. Eleanor returned a moment later with a small book. She slid it across the table to Leisa. Curiously, Leisa opened the book to find herself staring at a tiny pair of inky footprints. Printed in below them was:

Margaret Marie

Born March 28, 1975 at 2:47 a.m.

Weight: 6 lb 12 oz

Length: 19 inches

Transfixed, Leisa flipped the pages of the small keepsake book to find faded photos of a newborn baby girl, so blond she seemed to be bald.

“I kept these, tucked away all these years,” Eleanor said softly. “I didn’t know if I would ever have the chance to show them to you. I never imagined we’d ever really meet and get to know each other.”

Forgetting her earlier caution, Leisa reached across the table and took Eleanor’s hand. Eleanor opened her mouth as if she were going to say something and then seemed to change her mind.

“What is it?” Leisa asked.

Eleanor looked at Leisa shyly. “I did have something I wanted to ask you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

Nan finished an appointment with a client and turned to her computer to document the session. She glanced at her cell phone and saw that she had missed a call from Leisa. She pressed her hand to her mouth as she stared at the screen, debating what to do. After a long while, she picked the phone up and called Leisa back.

“Nan?”

The silence stretched on for several seconds before Nan spoke. “I’m here.”

“Are you in between clients?”

“Yes. Where are you?” Nan asked, carefully controlling her voice.

“In the car on the way back from Ithaca,” Leisa sighed. “Probably a mistake. One of many lately,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So, you met her,” Nan said.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She’s actually very nice,” Leisa said.

“I can hear the ‘but’,” Nan said.

“But she has a son about seven years younger than I am. He is a monster, and she completely dotes on him. It’s kind of sickening to watch, because he treats her like dirt. He doesn’t lift a finger around there, and she waits on him hand and foot because he’s diabetic.”

“So what kept you longer than just the weekend?”

“Well, I wanted to spend more time with her,” Leisa said. “I helped clean things up around the house and yard, because I know he won’t do it.”

Nan was again silent for several seconds. “Do you feel like meeting her was the right thing to do?”

“I don’t know. I guess. But they definitely had a plan,” Leisa said.

“What do you mean?”

“They want me to be tested to see if I could donate a kidney to him.”

“They want what?” Nan asked in disbelief.

“He’s on the verge of kidney failure,” Leisa explained. “Apparently, there’s something weird about his blood type or antigens or something, and they haven’t been able to find a suitable donor.” She was quiet for a moment. “That’s probably the only reason she registered to find me.”

“I doubt that,” Nan said. Something about the vulnerability in Leisa’s voice prompted her to offer comfort even as part of her brain questioned why she was being so understanding. “I’m sure she wanted to meet you even if there were also other reasons. What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Leisa said. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“What are you thinking now?”

Leisa was quiet again as she thought. “I’m not sure how I could say no.”

“Simple,” Nan said curtly. “You just say no.”

“You know what I mean. If he has to go on dialysis or dies because he doesn’t get a kidney, how am I going to live with myself?”

“I guess.”

Nan could hear Leisa’s turn signal and the rumble of a truck in the background. “Thanks for being there,” Leisa said. “There isn’t anyone else I could really talk to about this.”

“Not even Sarah?”

Nan’s eyes squeezed shut as she heard Leisa’s sharp intake of breath. She hadn’t meant for that to come bursting out like it did. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That was…” Her voice cracked.

She covered the phone with her hand, trying to muffle the sounds of her crying.

“Who –?” Leisa began. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter how you found out. I should have told you right away when I ran into her.” There was a pause. “Are you all right?”

Nan couldn’t answer right away. They sat silently, listening to one another’s breathing as long seconds ticked by.

“Nan?” Leisa prompted hesitantly.

“No, I’m not all right,” Nan managed to say in a strangled voice. “How do you expect me to be? I’ve tried to be patient, giving you time to work through what you need to work through, thinking that’s all you’re doing. And then I find out you’re… you’re… with Sarah of all people for God’s sake!” Nan shoved her fist against her teeth to stop herself before she said something she really regretted.

“I need to get off the phone,” she whispered, feeling more tears coming.

“Please –” Leisa began, but her voice was cut off when Nan hung up.

“It’s amazing how cruel people can be,” Nan had observed often. She was appalled at the things people said to one another – the hurtful, cutting comments. “Just the lack of common courtesy, and then they wonder why there’s no respect in the relationship.” Trying not to sound judgmental, she would usually point out to her clients, especially in couples’ counseling, that it was not healthy for a relationship when typical arguments included terms of endearment such as “Fuck you” or “Go to hell”.

But Nan knew from first-hand experience how harmful it could be to someone’s self-esteem when they heard things like that on a daily basis. “It’s so easy to start believing you deserve to be spoken to like that,” she had admitted in shame to Maddie more than once, and more than once, Maddie had said to her, “You need to get out of this relationship.”

That had been one of the most wonderful things about meeting Leisa. “She’s kind,” Nan said in wonder to Maddie. “She’s polite. She says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for everything. She makes me feel good about myself. I can’t see her ever saying anything nasty or mean.”

Maddie smiled knowingly. “I told you meeting her would be a good thing.”

Nan cradled her head in her hands. She and Leisa had never had an actual fight. No shouting. No walking out the door. No silent treatment. Any arguments had been discussed and worked out until they had made up. Up until Williamsburg. Now everything felt different between them.
Hanging up is not a constructive way to handle anything,
she reminded herself as the telephone rang again. “I’m sorry I did that,” she said before Leisa could say anything. “We’ll talk when you get back. I do not want to do this over the phone.”

“I’ll be back tonight,” Leisa said.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Chapter 16

“I DON’T BELIEVE IN
‘happily ever after’,” Nan said as they strolled.

It was about a year after she and Leisa had met. They’d gone to Provincetown for a long fall weekend, flying up to Boston and taking the ferry over.

Leisa tilted her head. “What, you don’t believe people can stay together their whole lives?”

Nan shook her head. “Not happily, and not faithfully. Not both at the same time. I’m sure there are exceptions, but I think they are exceptions.”

They stopped at the marina, watching the brightly painted boats bobbing on the water.

“You are such a cynic,” Leisa laughed.

“Occupational hazard,” Nan replied dryly. “Why aren’t you more of a cynic? Sarah wasn’t faithful to you. None of my lovers were faithful to me. My father may be faithful to my mother – I don’t really want to know – but he isn’t happy.”

“What about Lyn and Maddie?” Leisa challenged. “What about my parents and my aunt and uncle? I don’t know for certain they’ve all been faithful, but I’d be willing to bet they have. And they all truly love one another.”