“Of course that’s not true. Your sister and I had a quarrel, as you know, but we love each other,”
Ella said.
“Is it true that you gave Scott a call and asked him to dump Jeannette?” Avi asked with a grin,
apparently enjoying the subject immensely.
Ella glanced at her husband with widened eyes, but David raised his
eyebrows and flipped his
hands open to indicate it wasn’t he who’d told them such a thing.
With practiced ease, Ella gave her voice the authoritarian tone she used when giving instructions
to her children. “That’s not quite right. I did speak with Scott, but I did not tell him to dump your
sister. All I said was not to rush into marriage.”
“I’m never going to get married,” Orly announced with certitude.
“Yeah, as if any guy would want to have you as his wife!” Avi snapped.
While she listened to her twins tease each other, for reasons she couldn’t
understand Ella felt a
nervous smile settle on her mouth. She suppressed it. But the smile was there, carved under her
skin, as she walked them to the door and wished them all a nice day.
Only when she returned to her seat at the table could she get rid of the smile, and she did that
simply by allowing herself to sulk. The kitchen looked as if it had been attacked by an army of
rats. Half-eaten scrambled eggs,
unfinished bowls of cereal, and dirty mugs cluttered the counter.
Spirit was pacing the floor, eager to go out for a walk, but even after two cups of coffee and a
multivitamin drink all Ella could manage was to take him out into the garden for a few minutes.
Back from the garden, Ella found the red light flashing on the answering machine. She pressed
the button, and to her great delight Jeannette’s melodious voice filled the room.
“Mom, are you there …? Well, I guess not, or you would have picked up the phone.” She
chuckled. “Okay, I was so angry at you I didn’t want to see your face again. But now I’m cool
about it. I mean, what you did was wrong, that’s for sure. You should never have called Scott.
But I can understand why you did it. Listen, you don’t need to protect me all the time. I’m not
that premature baby who needed to be kept in an incubator anymore. Stop being overprotective!
Just let me be, okay?”
Ella’s eyes filled with tears. The sight of Jeannette as a newborn baby flashed across her mind.
Her
skin utterly red and sad, her little fingers wrinkled and almost transparent, her lungs attached
to a breathing tube—she was so unprepared for this world. Ella had spent many a sleepless night
listening to her breathing just to make sure she was alive and would survive.
“Mom, one more thing,” added Jeannette, like an afterthought. “I love you.”
On that cue Ella let out a deep breath. Her mind shifted to Aziz’s e-mail. The wish tree had
granted his wish. At least the first part of it.
By giving her a call, Jeannette had done her part.
Now it fell upon Ella to fulfill the rest. She called her daughter’s cell phone and found her on her
way to the campus library.
“I got your message, honey. Listen, I’m so sorry. I want to apologize to you.”
There was a pause, brief but charged. “That’s all right, Mom.”
“No, it’s not. I should have shown more respect for your feelings.”
“Let’s leave it all behind, shall we?” said Jeannette, as though she were the mother and Ella her
rebellious daughter.
“Yes, dear.”
Now Jeannette dropped her voice to a confidential mumble, as if afraid of what she was going to
ask next. “What you said the other day kind of worried me. I mean, is that true? Are you really
unhappy?”
“Of course not,”
Ella answered, a bit too quickly. “I raised three beautiful children—how can I
be unhappy?”
But Jeannette didn’t sound convinced. “I meant with Daddy.”
Ella didn’t know what to say, except the truth. “Your father and I have been married a long time.
It’s difficult to remain in love after so many years.”
“I understand,” said Jeannette, and, oddly, Ella had the feeling she did.
After she hung up, Ella allowed herself to muse over love. She sat curled up in her rocking chair
and wondered how she, hurt and cynical as she was, could ever experience love again. Love was
for those looking for some rhyme or reason in this wildly spinning world. But what about those
who had long given up the quest?
Before the
day ended, she wrote back to Aziz.
Dear Aziz (if I may),
Thanks for your kind and heartwarming reply, which helped me through a family crisis. My
daughter and I managed to leave behind that awful misunderstanding, as you politely called it.
You were right about one thing. I constantly vacillate between two opposites: aggressive and
passive. Either I meddle too much in the lives of loved ones or I feel helpless in the face of their
actions.
As for submission, I’ve never experienced the kind of peaceful surrender you wrote to me about.
Honestly, I don’t think I have what it takes to be a Sufi. But I have to give you this: Amazingly,
things between Jeannette and me turned out the way I wanted only after I stopped
wanting and
interfering. I owe you a big thank-you. I, too, would have prayed for you, but it has been such a
long time since I last knocked on God’s door that I’m not sure if He still lives in the same place.
Oops, did I speak like the innkeeper in your story? Don’t worry, I’m not that bitter. Not yet. Not
yet.
Your friend in Northampton,
Ella
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