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CHAPTER 16

“What kind of book is that?” My mother asked. “I’ve noticed you writing in it every night. Surely, it isn’t a diary, or is it?”
“No, it isn’t a diary. I’m writing a love story about the handsome soldier who rides up in a jeep and rescues the lonely girl from her boring life.” I gave her a sly look and a smile.
“Is JB the handsome soldier?”
“Mom, JB is like a brother. I said I’m writing a love story. It just might turn out to be good enough to get published. Anyway, one thing certain is that I’ll always enjoy reading it and, maybe someday, my children will too.”
“You’re getting a little ahead of the story, aren’t you?” she muttered as she prepared dinner. “Besides, you don’t know anything about writing books. How do you know you aren’t wasting your time and paper on something that will eventually end up in the trash can?”
“Oh come on Mom. Encourage me! It’s a good idea. Don’t you ever look back to the times when you were young and had boyfriends? Don’t you ever wish you had written down everything about those wonderful times, so you could remember them after the romance had dwindled down to a dying ember?”
There was a pause in the conversation. I looked over at Mom. She was gazing out the window, completely lost in her thoughts. Our conversation must have recalled something about the past — perhaps a lost love.
“Mom, what are your thinking?”
She looked over in my direction and moved away from the window. As she turned the chops in the frying pan, she began her story. “I had a lost love. I was only 16 at the time. He was a young doctor in a Brooklyn hospital, near our apartment house. He was deeply in love with me….so much so, that he begged my parents to let me enroll in the nursing school at the hospital, where he was practicing. It was all so exciting.” Her face brightened and her eyes sparkled for a few short moments. “I so wanted to be a nurse and was very flattered by his attention — but my parents said he was much too old for me. Our only alternative was to meet each other on the sly. One night my father caught us together. He was so angry and determined to break up the romance that he quit his job and moved the family from Brooklyn to a little farm in New Jersey, where he was sure the doctor would never find us. But he did, because I wrote to him and told him where we were. My father was so angry, he couldn’t see straight. I have no idea what he told the doctor. All I remember is that my doctor left and I never heard from him again. All my life I’ve thought about him and how different my life could have been. I could have been a nurse and married to a doctor! I probably would have had a beautiful home, expensive clothes , jewelry and a fancy car. All my hopes and dreams vanished that one day on the farm.”
I got up and put my arms around her. “Oh Mom, I’m so sorry. You never talked about that time in your life. I always suspected that you weren’t very happy and there was very little, if any, romance in your marriage. I don’t ever remember seeing you and dad hugging or kissing. All I remember are arguments and seeing you pushed around. Why in the world did you stay in the marriage if you were so miserable?”
“I stayed for you and your brother. Besides, you father is so jealous of me that I never would have been able to meet or marry any other man. You know how controlling he is. I’m not strong enough to stand up to him and defy his orders. The very thought of the consequences scares me to death. Oh well, so much for the lost love in my life…..”
She just stood there with a few tears rolling down her cheeks. “I have to set the table for dinner. Why don’t you put away your papers and tell your father dinner is ready.”
I wiped away the tears, gave her a little squeeze on her arm and left the room.
I had learned a whole new chapter in my mother’s life. Our sad little discussion helped me understand why my father wouldn’t let her buy clothes or spend any money on herself that would improve her appearance. He did not want her to look attractive and feel good about herself. Before Mom got married, she was very beautiful — but later she was unable to lose the weight she gained during her two pregnancies. She was a little on the plump side and, I suppose, that if she had a happy home life, she could have concentrated on losing a few pounds and looking like the beauty she once was.

That night, it was very difficult to get to sleep. The discussion that I had with my mother before dinner kept playing and replaying over and over again in my mind. There appeared to be more to the scenario than she told me. The more I concentrated on our conversation, the more memories were shaken from the dusty crevices of my mind. I began to recall incidents that caused me to wonder if, because she had lost her love, she was taking her revenge out on other people who were in love. There seemed to be a definite pattern within the family circle.
When I was about five years old, my dad’s brother lived next door to us. He appeared to be happily married to a jolly, and fairly attractive heavy-set woman named Ella. I clearly remember hearing her tell my mother that she had a boyfriend in Baltimore who she visited a couple of times a month because my uncle was not very romantic. A few months later, my uncle filed for divorce and Aunt Ella moved to Baltimore. Uncle Tom’s life was totally miserable after the divorce. Although he remarried, he never seemed as contented as he was with Aunt Ella. Recalling this first incident led me to wonder if my mother had played a part in the divorce — other than being a witness at the divorce proceedings.
And then there was Uncle Larry, who was handsome and a great dancer, but who remained single until he was almost 50. He fell head over heels in love with a school teacher from another city and, because he did not have a phone, he told his girlfriend to call him at our house. I was right there when the phone rang and heard my mother telling Uncle Larry’s girl that she was his wife and to stop calling him. Not only did she stop calling him, but he never was able to meet with her to explain.
How many other times had that game been played? I sat up in bed and tossed my bathrobe over my shoulders. A chill had run through my body and goose bumps had come up on my arms and legs. Had this all been a part of an unhealthy motive to compensate for her unhappiness? I was beginning to feel like a victim that had landed in her web of deception. Of course, this has been happening to me. The web is slowly being wrapped around me. My love affair would eventually be crushed, as well.
Parts of the puzzle were slowly bringing together the big picture. Initially, Mom made it a point of telling me that Bob was too old for me — which was similar to the excuse her parents used. Then, after I started bringing JB to the house, she said she thought that he was married. How could she make such a statement? Did she send an inquiry to the vital statistics office in his state? On another occasion, while searching for a button that fell in her waste basket, I picked up a crumpled response to a letter she had written to a parish priest regarding the character of a sailor who had attended church with me a couple of times. I couldn’t believe what she had said. I was angry at the time, but left it pass to keep peace in the house.
Now Bob is the major target. My parents objected to our dating because he was said to be fast and bragged about his conquests — an accusation I found hard to believe. Bob always treated me with respect and it was years before our affair blossomed into intimacy. When it did, I was the aggressor who led him on.
I thought of talking this over with JB but, after carefully considering the consequences of sharing my suspicions, I decided not to involve him. He had become very friendly with my parents and often visited with them. Recently, although it may have been just my imagination, I had a feeling that JB was falling in love with me and would want to be around to pick up the pieces if my love affair with Bob ended. He might not be motivated to help resolve my problems, especially if it were not to his advantage.
I crawled back under the covers and decided to let this whole predicament smolder a little longer.

Next — “War”