Intentional Fallacy (Book 5)

Chapter 10

I felt better once I'd taken a shower and changed my clothes. I chose something I knew he'd like. I put on a rust colored wrap dress and fixed my hair so it was soft and waves fell around my face. I was starting to hate myself for the events earlier in the day. I knew he had been angry, but I couldn't figure out what had come over me. It must have been that those diaries stirred up old feelings of suffering. The terrible truths were there but they were ancient. None of it was happening at that moment, nor had there been any violence or threats in over fifteen years. There was infidelity but that came with being married to an artist. I was glad he would be home for dinner. I was glad to make it for him and fix things between us before he left in the morning. I fixed my hair and applied make up. It seemed foolish to fix myself up before I went into the kitchen and fried a steak, made potatoes au gratin, a salad – all the foods he loved. It was a masochistic circle just as my children always implied. They couldn't understand why I entertained his childish needs, why I sometimes acted more like a mother than a wife. It particularly bothered my sons which was a surprise to me. I always supposed the reason my daughter criticized me less was because she didn't feel trapped by the same expectations. She'd left home, gone to college, lived in Berkeley. Her choices were plentiful while mine had been singular. My eldest son, Charlie, particularly found it distasteful. That was ironic because his wife was like me and in that way, he was like his father. I'd explained many times that when I was growing up that was how it was. That was how men acted. That was what women did.

I went downstairs and into the kitchen. It was nearly four o'clock. As I walked into the front room, the phone rang. Instead of picking up on the extention near the couch I went into the kitchen and picked up. I was afraid it was jeff, still angry with me. Canceling.

"Hello?"

It was Kate Sanford, my son's future mother in law. My son Jeffery had just gotten engaged a few weeks before, over Christmas. I'd spoken with Charlotte's mother at least five times since then. She seemed more exited about the wedding arrangements than the kids. I found her annoying, a woman content to live a mediocre life. And, I thought, as a result became more childlike.

"Eve? It's Kate Sanford, Charlotte's mother." Her voice sounded less animated and enthusiastic.

"How are you Kate?"

"Are you in the middle of something." I looked up at the clock. I still had a couple of hours before Jeff got home. I was already dressed and ready. I would rather have gotten the call over with then have to call her back.

"No. Not at all. How are the wedding plans going—I want to tell you again that Mr. Lambert and I are more than willing to help out—help pay for it. It seems like it's getting ot be a big event and we want it to be special for the kids."

She was silent for a moment then I heard stifled sobs. 

 "Are you all right Kate? What's happened?" My mind always shot to the worst possible scenario. This time I imagined the kids driving back from Boston, sliding off the road. I imagined she was calling to say they had been injured or worse. I could hear the urgency in my own voice, "Kate. What's happened?"

"I guess Jeffery called it off."

That was how it always had been. Hearing bad news after expecting horrible news was a relief. It was a relief that my son broke off his engagement to a wonderful girl that he seemed to have been completely in love with.

"But why? What happened?"

"I don't know." She paused, "I don't know Eve. He called it off. Charlotte called me. She was hysterical. She said she hasn't eaten for days. She can't get any work done—you know she's in New York on an apprenticeship with a magazine—"