Wildflowers 03 Jade Page 5
I thought for a moment. We had seven, but I didn't say so.
"My mother," I continued deciding to ignore Star's interruption, "is not one of those women who look prettier or more radiant when they get angry. She looks . . . scary, at least to me.
"'Believe me,' she cried, 'your father is not concerned about your getting less or more. He has his own agenda in this divorce and you and I are not at the top of the list. Why do you think he's fighting so hard to win custody? Because he wants to be responsible for you, to be burdened by your needs? Hardly. It's a negotiations ploy, that's what it is.'
"'What's that mean?' I asked.
"She was quiet for a moment, nodding to herself and smiling before turning to me.
"'He thinks I'm not as smart as he is. Most men make that mistake, but I've been in plenty of negotiations with men and I know how the opponent thinks and maneuvers,' she said.
"I hated the idea of her referring to my father as the opponent, but I could see that's what he was to her now, nothing more.
"'He thinks if he carries this ridiculous motion for custody to court and we actually have a trial date scheduled, I'll give in to his financial demands and take less.'
"'I thought the money part was all just about settled,' I said.
"'It would have been if there wasn't this wrinkle,' she replied. That's what I was now, a wrinkle.
"'I don't understand,' I said.
"'He makes more money than I do. I want my share of that as well,' she explained. 'I'm entitled to it and there are other assets that he thinks are only his. Then, there's the house. Eventually, it all will be worked out, but until then, he's playing this new game.'
"'What am I, a checker on a checkerboard?' I asked.
"'Exactly,' she said. 'I'm glad you understand. I knew you would. We've got to be more like sisters now than mother and daughter, sisters fighting the same cause, hating men who are selfish and who will belittle us,' she told me.
"But in my mind, I saw her treating me like a checker on that board as well. I just didn't say it then. I was afraid her anger might drive us off the road if I did.
"As soon as we arrived at the restaurant, my mother became the mother I knew most of my life. She claimed she had brought me there to have a heartto-heart, but she spent most of her time talking to people she knew in the business world. In between she had to explain who all these people were and why it was so important to touch base with them, as she put it.
"When would she touch base with me? I wondered."
"Why didn't you ask her instead of wonder?" Star questioned.
"I don't know. You're right, of course. I should have confronted her then and there, but I didn't. I ate; I listened and I found myself drifting away, like some shadow of myself, becoming more and more invisible. That's what this divorce does to me, it makes me invisible, no matter what they say about how important I am.
"Every once in a while, my mother would return to the subject of our family crisis and rant about my father as if she just remembered she was in the middle of this legal action to end their marriage. She drank more than I had ever seen her drink. Usually, one martini was enough for my mother, but she was lit up like a movie marquee, advertising her anger, her determination and her pride, so she drank another and then nearly half of a third.
"Her eyes looked droopy to me by the time they served dessert. Suddenly, she was so weird. She was just staring at me and she reached across the table and took my hand.
"'Jade,' she said, her eyes tearing up, 'we've got to stick together on this. You don't know half of what I've been through these past few years. Your father is so different from the man I married. He's obsessed with himself, with his work. Nothing matters more, not you, not me, nothing,' she said.
"She pulled herself up, took a deep breath and said, 'My attorney is going to want to speak with you very soon. I want you to be cooperative and answer all his questions as fully as you can and keep in mind the things I've told you tonight.'
"'What sort of questions?' I wanted to know. "'Questions about our life, your life. They won't be hard questions. Just answer them and remember, Jade, in the end I'll always be here for you.'
"I was afraid to ride home with her. I thought we might be stopped and she would be arrested for DWI, but somehow we made it home. In the hallway, she hugged me once. It was something she hadn't done for a really long time.
"It made me cry and made my stomach ache. I didn't want her to be so sad, but I didn't want to hate my father either. I had a lot of trouble falling asleep that night.
"Despite how much she had drunk at dinner, my mother was up as early as usual the following morning. In fact, she left before I went down for breakfast. She had some meeting in San Francisco and had to fly up there for the day.
"I didn't feel like getting up and going to school. My head felt so heavy and I was exhausted from tossing about, swimming from one nightmare island to another. I decided I would stay home and just rest.
"There was a knock on my door and my father peered in.
"'Still in bed?' he asked. He was dressed in his jacket and tie, looking as spruced up as ever.
"My father is more than just handsome. He's . . . distinguished, like a United States senator or an ambassador. He's about six feet two and has just a touch of gray at his temples which, along with his perennial tan, brings out the soft aqua blue in his eyes.
"I've always looked up to my father, thought of him as someone special, like a celebrity. He's been in the newspapers a lot, and magazines have featured his buildings and put his picture in the articles.
"He has always seemed strong and successful to me. It was one thing to see him angry and firm with my mother, but another to see him sad and weak with me.
"He came into my room and sat on my bed, lowering his head like a flag in defeat and folding his arms on his legs as he wove his fingers through each other. He stared down at the floor for a long moment.
"'I'm sorry you have to go through all this,' he began. 'I don't want you to dislike your mother and I especially don't want you to dislike me. I know she's probably been working on you, trying to get you to take sides.'
"He looked up at me quickly to see if he was right and I had to look away which was the same as admitting it was true.
"'I know she's doing that and it's cruel and wrong of her. She's not herself these days. She's intent on getting her way and that's all that matters to her.'
"'Why?' I asked.
"He studied me for a moment and nodded as if he had decided I was old enough or smart enough to understand.
"'For some reason,' he said, 'defeating me makes her feel more like a woman of substance, it strengthens her self-image. I can't tell you why she feels that way. I haven't done much to frustrate her ambitions, have I? She wanted a full-time executive position with her firm. I said fine. Go ahead. I won't stand in your way. I'll pay for nannies and servants and do whatever is necessary to let you pursue your professional goals.
"'But it wasn't enough for her. She wanted more. She wanted to dominate. You know how the Mathewses are,' he continued, now talking about her parents. 'Her father and mother's pictures are right beside snob in the dictionary. I never told you how badly I was treated by them when we were courting. I was just starting out and of course, no one could predict whether I would be successful or not. And my family didn't have a high enough social standing for them, either. To this day they still think your mother has married below her station in society.
"'She can't help herself. She's inherited too much of that,' he added.
"He reached for my hand and looked me in the eyes and said, 'I don't want you to become a Mathews snob, Jade. You have a lot more than most girls do, but it's no reason for you to look down on anyone and lose out on real friendships. Just think,' he said dropping some of the poison seeds into the garden, 'does your mother have any real friends, any close friends? Anyone she knows and pals around-with these days is just as snobby or even snobbier than she is.
"'Soon my attorney will ask to meet with you. You've met Arnold before on social occasions, so you know you don't have to be afraid of him or his questions,' my father said.
"Here I go again, I thought.
"'What sort of questions?' I asked.
"'Simple questions about your life. Just answer everything honestly,' he said and rose smiling. 'It will be easy and all this unpleasantness will be cleared up.'
"'All this unpleasantness?' Was that all it was to him, just some unpleasantness? To me it was utter disaster.
"'I know you can't be enjoying it,' he said. He started out. 'Say,' he said from the doorway, turning back to me, 'why don't you pop over to my office this afternoon after school. I'd like to show you the model of my last project. You'd probably enjoy seeing it. It's a four-hundred-million-dollar project. You'll be proud of your dad when you see what's involved,' he said.
"I couldn't remember the last time my father had invited me to his office. In fact, I think I had been there less than a half a dozen times. He has beautiful offices on the twenty-first floor of a building on Wilshire Boulevard. The view from his office is spectacular. You can see the ocean and on clear days, Catalina Island.
"'I'm not going to school today,' I said just before he closed the door behind him. 'I have a bad headache.'
"'Oh?' he said, looking at me with concern. 'How long has this been going on?'
"'About three months,' I replied, pinpointing the date of the Last Supper.
"He studied me and then nodded.
"'That's why I want to put an end to this stupidity as quickly as I can. Your mother puts up a big front, but she'll be happier being totally free,' he added. 'It's what she wants. Unfortunately, it's who she is,' he added and left, leaving me feeling as if he had taken all the oxygen out of my room along with him
"Later, I was sorry I stayed home from school. There is nothing more dreary than an empty house filled with the echoes of people fighting and hissing at each other like a pair of snakes. The walls, the shadows in every corner, the bong of the grandfather clock, the long whistle of a teakettle, every sight and every sound seemed hollow. I felt like I was on the set of a movie. Nothing was real to me anymore. All the pictures of them together that still hung on walls or were in frames on tables were illusions. Even the family photos looked phony.
"All these smiles, I thought, were false. Suddenly my parents' faces resembled balloons that had lost air, whereas I felt I was floating away, drifting into the wind, belonging nowhere anymore, like you three," I said, looking from Cat to Misty to Star, "an orphan with parents."
I took a deep breath and held my head back to keep the tears from slipping down my face. Cat cleared her throat. Everyone was looking at me, waiting.
"So," I continued, smiling, "now it really began. Two days later, my mother picked me up at school and brought me to her attorney's office.
"'You didn't tell your father about this, did you?' she asked me as soon as I got into the car.
"'No,' I said,-but I hadn't told her about him planning to schedule a meeting between me and Arnold Klugman, his attorney, either.
"'Good,' she said. Not that we have to hide anything. It's just better this way.'
"Better for whom? I thought. Certainly not for me. I was literally trembling as if I were in Aspen in February without a jacket or boots."
"Where?" Star asked.
"Aspen. It's a place where a lot of rich and famous people go skiing," Misty said.
"Well, excuse me. I haven't even seen snow up close much less slid down a hill on stupid sticks," she muttered.
"Have you ever read the fable of the Fox and the Grapes?" I asked her.
"No, why?"
"You might appreciate it. This fox is trying desperately to get his mouth on these grapes on the vine only they're too high and he can't get to them so he turns around and says, 'They're probably sour anyway.'"
She glared at me.
"Your father might be right about that snob thing:' she said.
"I'm not a snob, but I'm not ashamed of what I have and who I am:' I said.
"What was it like at the lawyer's?" Misty asked quickly to stop any more bickering.
"It was horrible," I said. "Her attorney has these really plush offices in Beverly Hills. I took a look around at the three secretaries, the rich oak paneling, the expensive paintings and rugs and thought the divorce business must be pretty good. Everyone treated my mother as if she was the most important client they had. She loves all that stroking. I guess she should have been born into royalty. What a waste of regal posture and dignity.
"Her attorney, Mr. Fishman, was a tall, lean man with beady dark eyes and heavy eyebrows. He had a smile that reminded me of ice because it slid on and off his face so easily. After my mother introduced us, he asked me to take the seat in front of his large, dark cherry wood desk and then after my mother sat, he sat and rubbed his palms together before clapping his hands once like some magician who was going to lift a black velvet cloth to reveal the missing diamond or the end to this marital madness that was destroying us all.
" `Well, Jade,' he began, 'you know your mother has hired me to help her get through this very difficult situation. Divorce is never pleasant, and your mother wants to make every effort to see that you come through this unscathed.'
"He looked at my mother to see if she approved of the way he had begun and she smiled.
" `Jade is a very bright and mature young lady,' my mother told him. 'She'll do what has to be done and do it well.'
"'I'm sure she will,' he said with that chilly smile. "I kept thinking I'm sure he doesn't really care. I said nothing. I stared at him and waited.
"'What I want to do today is make you aware of what is going to happen and what you will be asked to do,' he said. 'The judge is going to have a psychologist evaluate your family situation to produce a custodial assessment. We have learned today that Dr. Thelma Morton will perform the evaluation. I am familiar with her. She is a very competent and fair-minded person and I think you will like her. Besides her testimony, there will be testimony from some of your mother's friends and someone from your school.'
"'Who?' I demanded.
"He looked at his folder for a moment.
"'Your guidance counselor, a Miss Bickerstaff,' he said.
"'Why her?' I asked. I didn't particularly like her. I thought she was cold and officious and I had always suspected that she didn't really like being around young people.
"'She and I have met on two occasions for parent- teacher conferences,' my mother explained. 'Your father couldn't be there either time even though they were both very important meetings, remember?'
"Neither she nor my father had been to the last meeting, the one where colleges were being discussed, I thought.
"'So we have your school officials, family and friends, and Dr. Morton,' Mr. Fishman catalogued. 'They will be the witnesses in the courtroom. The judge relies on their testimony a great deal, and of course, on what you will say to him
"'I can tell you right now,' he said, 'because of your age, he'll most assuredly ask you which of your parents you prefer to have custody and why. Most likely,' he added, seeing the look on my face, 'this will occur in camera, which means privately, usually with a court reporter present. It's rare for a child, even a teenager, to testify at trial,' he said flashing that cold grin at me.
"'You can't be pressured,' my mother commented, obviously referring to the fact that my father would not be present during the interview with the judge.
"Is she for real? I thought. What is all this if not pressure?"
"I'm glad I didn't have to do that," Misty said.
"I'm not. If a judge had asked me, I would have told him I didn't want either one of my parents to have custody," Star said.
Cat's eyes flashed in silent agreement.
"'Do you unders
tand everything so far?' Mr. Fishman asked me.
"I shrugged. It wasn't calculus. What was there to understand? I knew what he wanted me to do and I didn't like it.
"'In all my custody cases, and I have had a number, actually more than ever recently,' he added, nodding at my mother, 'Hike to meet like this in a casual way with the child or children,' he explained, sitting back and pressing his long fingers into a cathedral.
"Casual? I thought looking around at his impressive office, the walls covered in books and plaques with framed degrees. Hardly casual.
"'What I'd really appreciate hearing are your concerns,' he said.
"I simply stared at him coldly. He looked to my mother.
"'Maybe you'd feel more comfortable speaking if it were just you and I,' he said, swinging his eyes conspiratorially to my mother and then back to me.
"'Actually, I'd feel less comfortable,' I told him. That icy smile returned, stiffer, colder.
"'I appreciate how difficult this is for you,' he said. 'Let me assure you it's not our intention to drive your father completely out of your life. Your mother has no opposition to reasonable visitations, trips, vacations.
"'What we want to do,' he continued, 'is maintain as much normalcy in your life as possible under these trying circumstances. You're comfortable in your home, comfortable with your world as it is right now, correct?'
"'Hardly,' I told him.
"'I don't mean the confrontational atmosphere. I'd like you to stop for a moment and try to separate yourself from that and ask yourself how can you best keep the good things about your life, your world? Just think about that, okay? And when you are asked questions by others, think how your answers will support that, okay?'
"I looked at my mother.
" I'm not losing the house,' she said firmly. 'No matter what he and Arnold say.'
"'You won't,' Mr. Fishman assured her.
"She looked at me as if that was the point. If she keeps the house, then won't I want her to have custody so I could stay in my room? As if my room, my things were all that mattered, I thought.
"'Let me give you an idea of what sort of questions you might be asked,' Mr. Fishman continued. 'Think hard. Who seems to be around more when you need advice? With whom would you rather share your most intimate thoughts, your problems? Who understands you more? Who's been there for you more?