“It’s a boy.” Her voice was much too cheery for so early in the morning.
I rubbed my eyes and switched the phone to my other ear. “I’m sorry Mother, it’s five A.M. and I’m just not awake yet. You’ll have to repeat that.”
“Honestly Jewel, anyone would think you haven’t been paying attention. You’re brother’s new baby was born this morning. It’s a boy. His name is Sampson, but I think they’re going to call him Sammy. Isn’t that just the sweetest name? Aren’t you excited? I just can’t wait to meet him. Jewel? Jewel, are you even listening to me? Aren’t you excited?”
I sighed. Of course I wasn’t excited. “I’m sorry Mother, of course I’m excited. It’s just so early and I haven’t had any coffee yet this morning.” I always seem to apologize whenever I talk to her. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you call me back in a few hours? That’ll give you time to get all the details and me time to get awake.” I harbored a secret hope that she would get so carried away that she wouldn’t call back at all.
As soon as she hung up I climbed into the shower and gave in to a nasty crying jag. That was normal. I cried after most of her calls. She was just so damned selfish. She never could see how obvious it was that she loved Willoughby best and how much it hurt me every time she rubbed my nose in it. Will never much cared. As long as he was her Golden Boy he was happy. He did everything right, even when he fucked up she found a way to turn it into something positive. I, on the other hand, couldn’t do anything right. My accomplishments always paled by comparison, and she never missed an opportunity to point out how much more accomplished Will was.
By the time I was out of the shower, finishing up my first cup of coffee, and just getting my composure back the phone was ringing again. She always had perfect timing.
“Go check your E-mail. Hurry honey, I sent you a picture. He’s just an angel. He’s absolutely perfect.”
That baby couldn’t have been more than three hours old, and she lived almost five hours from Will, and she was already sending out pictures? “I’m sorry Mother, my computer isn’t booted up yet and I was just getting Thomas’s breakfast started. I’ll check it as soon as I get him off to school.”
“Oh, of course dear. You’re not feeding him cereal I hope; you know how important a good breakfast is.” She took every chance she got to remind me that she disapproved of every parenting choice I ever made. “Well anyway, call me when you’ve had a chance to look at that beautiful baby.”
“Are you okay Mom?”
“Yes honey. I’m just having a rough morning. Do you want syrup or honey on these?”
“Honey. Who was on the phone?”
“Your Gran. Will’s new baby was born this morning. She wanted me to check my E-mail. Evidently she’s already sent out pictures.”
“Oh. Is it a boy or a girl?” He drizzled honey strategically. “Can I see the picture?”
“I suppose. After you eat your breakfast.”
The baby’s head looked sort of squished, he didn’t have much of a chin and his face was mottled angry red and pasty white. His eyes were squinched shut and his pale lips were pursed. The topic line read “5 pounds 3 ounces.”
Thomas grinned. “He’s cute.”
“Okay, you’ve seen the picture. You’d better get your shoes on, the bus will be here soon.”
That evening Thomas asked, “What did they name the baby?”
“Sampson, but Gran says they’re going to call him Sammy. She sent some more pictures and promises to send video clips just as soon as she can get up there for a visit, some time next week probably.”
“Sampson? Really? Why did aunt Jenny let him give the baby such an ugly name? I mean it was bad enough that he named the first one Jebediah, but at least that’s a family name.”
“When your uncle Will and I were kids Gran told us that she wanted to start a family tradition of giving all the kids what she called interesting names. I think Will just wants to make her happy.”
He scratched out something on his math homework and squinted at his book for a minute. “I don’t think that’s fair.”
“What don’t you think is fair?”
“Giving kids weird names. Dealing with the stupid crap that other kids do is hard enough, why would anybody want to make life any harder for their kids?” With that he slapped his book and glared at the paper he had been working on.
When I checked my E-mail that night I had three more pictures of Sammy and a sound clip of him crying. The E-mail read, “Isn’t that just the most adorable little cry you ever heard?”
The next day, at work, I told my friend Rebecca about the baby, and the early morning phone call, and all the E-mails. I’ve known Rebecca for twenty years now. Fifteen years ago we made a pact to be allies in the Maternal Wars and to do anything and everything necessary to prevent each other from turning into our mothers. It was our agreement to be Godmothers to each other’s children and, if necessary, to defend each other’s children from ourselves. She knew all of my Maternal War stories and I knew all of hers.
“Okay, don’t work yourself into a lather. You knew this one wouldn’t be any better than the last. You remember what she did last time?” Rebecca handed me a tissue and miniature candy bar.
I crumpled the tissue and glared at her feet, “Yeah. She threw Jenny’s baby shower on my birthday.”
“On your thirtieth birthday. And, she spent the whole day telling everyone how excited she was that she was going to have a grandbaby.”
“Yes, but in all fairness I guess I’ll be pretty excited when Thomas gets married and starts having babies.” I stuffed the candy bar into my mouth and smeared the rumpled tissue with blobs of melted chocolate from my fingers.
“Come on. You know better than that. She already had a grandbaby by then, Thomas.”
I folded the foil wrapper from the candy bar into a little triangle. “I don’t think it would bother me so much anymore if she’d just treat Thomas a little better.”
Mom hadn’t been to visit Thomas at all in the three years since Jebediah had been born, but she had been to visit Jebediah five times. Even that wouldn’t have seemed so bad if it hadn’t been for the fact that we lived two hours closer to her than Will did, and she had drive right by us to get to Will’s. She usually called from her cell phone to say that she was driving through town and thinking about us.
Rebecca reminded me of all those on-the-run phone calls. “Did she ever even consider turning one of those trips of hers into a family get together? Did she ever offer to take Thomas with her so he could spend a little time with her?”
“What, and spoil her baby time?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Now quit moping around.” She handed me another miniature chocolate bar.
“You’re right. I guess I could actually have the dreaded conversation with her.”
“Be Serious Jewels. You know that won’t do you any good. It’ll just piss her off and you’ll still end up crying in the bathroom.”
I chewed on my bottom lip and gently kicked the base of her chair. “Well something has to change. I’m miserable. Maybe if I piss her off enough she’ll just quit calling.”
“I’ll tell you what, why don’t I take you out for a drink tonight? Thomas can fix himself a sandwich for dinner and we’ll have a girl’s night out. How’s that sound? Flirt with some greasy bar flies, shoot pool, drink ourselves stupid, and toast our mothers funerals. How about it?”
“As much fun as a hangover sounds, and I’m sure it would just be bliss, I think I’ll stay home tonight. I want to spend some time with Thomas.”
Before I got to plan out my evening my cell phone rang.
“Hi Honey. Listen I’m on my way to visit Will and meet my new grandbaby and I was thinking I should stop along the way and pick up a gift for him. Do you know where I can find something cute between there and Will’s? The place I used to stop closed down.”
“You’re coming right through town and you aren’t planning on stopping to spend any time with Thomas but you think I’m the one you should call for toy store advise? What’s wrong with you?” My ears were ringing.
“Do you have your period Jewel? You should talk to a doctor if your PMS symptoms are getting this bad, it’s not healthy to let your hormone levels get too out of whack you know.”
“Mother. This isn’t about my hormones. This is about you totally ignoring Thomas and treating him like he’s a second rate grandson the same way you treat me like I’m a second rate daughter. I might not be Will but I am your daughter and Thomas is a good kid. He deserves to be treated well, why can’t you do that?” I felt like someone had flipped my stomach upside down.
Mom sniffed, “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I’m going to stop while I’m in town and buy you some dinner. You can tell me what’s really bothering you over dinner. How are you dressed, do you need time to go home and clean up before going out? I know how you like to dress casual but I’d like to go someplace decent.”
“I’m busy tonight. Maybe you should actually plan out a visit with us and give me some advance notice.”
“Nonsense. You can always make a little time for your mother. What on earth could you possibly be doing that’s so important? I’m coming by your place. Expect me around seven. I was planning on going to a hotel tonight and visiting Will and the baby tomorrow, but maybe I should just stay with you tonight. Yes, I think that would be best. You sound upset and you could probably use some momma therapy. Besides, by the time you get done explaining to me why your doctor isn’t treating your PMS it’ll be too late for me to get back on the road. I’ll see you this evening dear.” She hung up without giving me a chance to protest.
“Look at this adorable giraffe.” She wasn‘t even in the door yet. “Won’t Sammy just love him? Oh, and you have to see the blankie I got for him. I found the sweetest little store, just wait till you see everything I got.”
“You said you were going to be here at seven. It’s almost nine. I cooked dinner for us but it’ll have to be reheated.”
“Come look at these.” She brandished a bag of baby accessories. “I’ll take you and Thomas out for dinner afterwards.”
“Thomas already ate Mother. It’s a school night. I can just reheat dinner for us.”
As usual the mention of food caused Thomas to appear. “Hi Gran.”
“Hello darling. Be careful; don’t hug so tight. Your mother says she’s going to reheat dinner, don’t you think we ought to go for dinner instead?”
Thomas grinned. “I ate already. But I could eat again.”
“I’m sorry mother but it’s too late for Thomas to be going out tonight. I don’t mind reheating dinner but if you’d rather go out that’s fine too. I’ll still be here when you get back.”
Mother shrugged. “Well if you’re going to be rigid about it I can order us some pizza. Where’s the best place to order from?”
While we waited for pizza Mother showed us three bags worth of baby toys, clothes, bedding, and odds and ends. This process involved a lot of “Isn’t this the cutest –whatever-it-was- you’ve ever seen?” When she ran out of cutest things to show us she insisted on showing us the website Will made for the sole purpose of documenting little Sammy’s life. There we found pictures of everything from the actual birth process, which made Thomas shout and cover his eyes, to pictures of little Sammy’s first poopie diaper. Also available were short video clips of dear little Sammy wailing at top volume, Jenny breast feeding, which also made Thomas shout and cover his eyes, and Will kissing little Sammy’s toes. Mother oohed and ahhed over every picture and video like she’d never seen anything so wonderful in her life.
While we were eating Mom’s phone rang and she stepped out of the room. Thomas pulled a pepperoni off a slice of pizza, stuffed it into his mouth, and said, “Gran sure is excited. Did she get like this when I was born?”
Not even close. “Grandmothers are supposed to get excited about grandbabies. It’s part of the job.” She sent me a packet of adoption agency pamphlets.
“Jewel.” Mother called from the other room. “Could you come in here please?”
Mother was sitting on the sofa. Her cell phone was on the floor by her feet. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go. That was Will, Sammy’s in the hospital. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong yet. He just stopped breathing. Will needs me.”
“I’ll drive you. Let me tell Thomas to get some shoes on and we’ll go.”
“That’s okay dear. I can drive myself.”
“Seriously Mom, let me drive you.”
“I know you want to be there Jewel but think about what’s best for Will and the baby. They aren’t going to need you and Thomas under foot. I’ll call you and keep you up to speed.”
I got the call the next morning. “The baby didn’t make it. Jenny’s a mess, but you know our Will, he’s holding things together.”
Oh my God. “What can I do Mom? I can be there by this afternoon. I can take Jebediah or I can come there and help take care of him. Whatever Will and Jenny need.”
“No, they don’t need a bunch of people over here. I’ll take care of things. I’ll call you and let you know when the services will be.”
After I got off the phone with Mom I sat Thomas down and explained to him that the baby had died. He was devastated.
“What? How? He was only two days old. I didn’t even get to meet him.” His voice trembled.
I wrapped my arms around him. “I know Honey. I didn’t either, but we can say goodbye to him at the funeral, Gran’s going to call later to let me know when it will be.”
“I wanted to give him my old teddy bear.” He picked at a loose thread in the arm of the sofa.
“You still can. We can take it to the funeral with some flowers.”
“I’d like that.”
The funeral was held three days later. It was a quiet affair. Very few people were invited, only close family members. Thomas’s teddy bear wasn’t the only stuffed animal but it was the only one that wasn’t new. Several people hugged Thomas and Jenny thanked him for the bear.
At the reception Mom hugged me. “He’s a very sweet boy, that son of yours. I’m taking his old bear home with me. Everyone was very touched that he brought it.”
“I haven’t really invited you to spend any time with us lately have I?”
“No dear, you haven’t. But I haven’t really volunteered either, have I?”
“I’d really like it if you could come and spend some time with us. Thomas could use some Gran therapy.”
“That sounds wonderful. I think I could use some Thomas therapy.”
9 comments:
Certainly this is a story I can relate to. LOL Actually, sad to say, I think a majority of people in this country can relate to this story. I've heard a ton of bad mother or bad grandmother stories and naturally, I have my own.
I am enjoying your story so far, Orianna, especially the scene with her best friend. Darn funny. I was chuckling aloud a couple of times when the friend's remark caught me off guard. Good stuff.
I have no idea where you're going with this of course (maybe you don't either and that's why you're stuck now) but I would say when a story is so familiar to so many readers, it can be a very good thing unless it isn't. Heh
What I mean is, if the plot is too predictable, then that's a bad thing. I love surprises in stories especially when they make a great deal of sense. Often the twists in familiar stories give me a new perspective on an old problem. I suspect the same is true for most people. So where's the twist come in?
It could turn out that the "golden boy" gets his fair share of nettles from this mother from hell. Maybe even more than the girls simply because his mother seems to have been consuming his life one way or another. Of course, that storyline has been done before but I was thinking of something like having the brother accidentally send an email to his "list" that includes his mother and sisters.
The email could detail his woes, especially concerning mom, and it could be to his new lover (as in he's cheating on the wife who just gave birth). If you really want it to snap, you could make the new lover a male. LOL Then, perhaps because I haven't had the best of experiences with mothers, maybe the mother commits suicide but the children are left not knowing if her reason was because she was crushed to find out how her children see her or that she was crushed her son turned out to be gay and hiding it from her.
I was thinking of a poem a few days ago that probably got me headed in this direction. Sometimes I think of the title first and in this case it was Things We Should Have Said. I pitched the idea because I thought it sounded more like a short story rather than a poem. You're welcomed to the title if it's any help.
You're a good story teller, Orianna. I'm sure you'll come up with a great ending for this. Personally, I'm rooting for the evil mother to croak or fly away on her broomstick somewhere, but I won't complain if that doesn't happen. Heh Thanks.
Thanks PB. Of the two that I'm working on right now I like this one best. The other story is more "interesting" it's about a male-male-female triad who want to have a baby and how one of the men is struggling because his parents won't accept his partners or their desire to have a family.
I think I like this one better because it is easier for most readers to relate to. Also I've been more successful at injecting a rich sense of reality into this one.
This story is actually VERY close to reality for me. That's my mom, she did give us really wierd names, and I really did get a 5A.M. phone call that went pretty much the way this one did. Also I do have a best friend that I share momma war stories with and we do shore each other up. In fact she's enjoying this story a bit too much if you ask me ;)
The problem I'm having is coming up with "the straw that breaks the camel's back." I don't know what pushes Jewel over the edge and makes her confront her mom. I think I know how that confrontation will play out and how the story will end... which is probably why I can't write it... I'm just hung up on how I get from here to there.
I finally finished it and edited the post to update to the finished product.
I hate to say this but it felt a bit like a cheap way out of this story. Not that the child died but that the Mother seemed to have such a complete human being makeover.
I think either she has to be less of a total selfish bitch earlier in the story or the story needs to end a bit differently. In my experience, selfish people don't generally discover that there are other people in the world just because of one trauma. I think she'd still be every bit as selfish, dead grandchild or not. Just doesn't seem believable to me. Just my opinion naturally.
I will say this story struck a nerve with me. Maybe I'm taking it a little too personally.
I had a really hard time with this ending... The part of me who lived through all of this (not the death of the baby, but all the rest) wanted to paint the mother in the worst possible light and end with her bullying Will and Jenny into holding a private memorial service for only mom, will, jenny, and jenyy's parents and then having Jewel cut all contact with her for it. But that felt too harsh and unsatisfying as a writer.
In writing this story I wanted to write something that most people could identify with and I didn't feel like many people would be able to identify with that ending. Also, I was worried that writing it that way would sound WAY too venemous... If my prof. slams me too hard for this ending I'll revise to the original ending and see if he likes that better.
This ending was a cheap way out, for sure. I'm so damned BAD at endings! *Grrrrrrrr* This story was harder to end than anything I've written so far. I think mostly because I'm so close to the subject matter myself, can't see the forest for the trees.
I'm turing it in today. Wish me luck!
Since you're turning it in today, I'm probably too late to comment. But this is about the story, right? Not the grade.
For me,you've got the story (though the ending feels like you pulled it out of a bag of endings and attached it, but it is for another story) down well. I think now, if you were thinking of publishing, you need to (besides find the right ending) go through the words and try to tighten up the sentences, get rid of extraneous stuff, focus only on what is essential for the reader to get to the end.
For example - the chocolates and the tissue. If they have some sort of symbolic meaning, it doesn't carry through the story. Like if this is something she doesn't get from Mom some subtle link needs to be in other parts of the story. If this is just a detail to make it more real, then instead of "handed me tissue and a miniature candy bar" you should tell us the kind of candy.
About the ending. Well, first, I don't have this kind of of mother so I can't relate as well. I just can't imagine she'd be driving through town, not stopping to visit, and yet would call. I could see her unintentionally hurting the daughter, but not going out of her way to do it. But that's my limited experience I guess.
But the other way to think about it is that this is the daughter's version of the story. Perhaps Mom has a version that makes the daughter not so pure and long suffering and makes herself (the mom) nobler. Perhaps, the daughter might recognize the neediness of the mom and perhaps her own overreaction to mom which perhaps has caused mom to be more sarcastic.
The ending might be less of a complete seeing of the light, and more of a first step toward softening, with some thorns still lurking. There's hope, but it is potential, not fully realized.
Good story. Hope you get a good grade. And some good ideas from your prof.
After being told, by everyone who's read this so far, that the ending needs help I changed it... only slightly, but it changes the tone of the ending. This is the ending on what I turned in this afternoon.
At the reception Mom hugged me. “He’s a very sweet boy, that son of yours. I’m taking his old bear home with me. Everyone was very touched that he brought it.”
“I haven’t really invited you to spend any time with us lately, have I?”
“No dear, you haven’t.”
“I’d really like it if you could come and spend some time with us. Thomas could use some Gran therapy.”
“That sounds nice. Maybe I can make some time in a few months. Will and Jenny will need me more than ever now.”
Hah! Very clever. Enjoyed it but then I'm a sucker for irony especially ironic endings to short stories. You saved the whole story with that ending. I think it's quite believable now. Cheers!
Thank you :D
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