Deep Ravine
Chapter 4: Opening Up
"Just thought I'd warn you," Tom-Tom declared, breathless from running. "Mom's on her way. And she's a little bit angry you haven't wanted her around."
At fourteen, Mai's brother was tall and lanky, a cheerful, well adjusted boy, eager to please and quick to love.
"And you didn't stop her? I can't handle her, Tom-Tom...not now. She'll ask too many questions. She'll…"
"Hey, take it easy, sis. I'll stay here with you." He pulled her in for a hug. "Mom's in one of her determined moods. Nothing could stop her but death." Letting go, he looked about the room. Miyako lay on the floor, a soft blanket beneath her, hands and feet in the air, grasping and kicking. She was a beautiful baby and Mai could see affection for her swell in Tom-Tom. He picked her up, holding her like an expert, placing kisses on her face with unabashed enthusiasm. "I love this kid," he proclaimed with pride.
Tom-Tom was a good brother. Mai recalled his birth, how she had hated and loved his presence, resented him and embraced him both. Now, she wouldn't trade the boy for anything. He was a positive force in her life and a real joy.
Mai laughed, though it sounded more like a harsh bark. "I think she's attached to you too. Tom, could you see about tea and something to eat? Mother will complain if I'm not the perfect host. And Zuko will have a fit if I don't eat."
"Okay; do you want Miya back on the blanket?"
"No, I'll take her."
She was fed and clean and content and lay in Mai's arms without protest, a smile on her face, her one dimple revealing itself. Mai smiled back and stroked her cheeks, running a finger across her lips.
"I love you too," she whispered. "I'll bet it doesn't seem like it sometimes. I'm having a hard time and I don't know why." Mai kissed her daughter's forehead. "I'll make it right, though. I'm trying, Miya. I'm trying so hard."
"You look distraught, Mai. What's the matter? Is there something wrong with the baby?"
She hadn't heard her mother enter the room. Her lack of awareness angered Mai. And her mother's presumption did as well. They weren't close enough for that kind of access, for the woman to walk straight into Mai's and Zuko's rooms without knocking or giving some kind of indication that she was there.
"I don't recall hearing a knock."
"That's because I didn't. I'm your mother, for Agni's sake. Aren't we beyond that?"
"When did that happen?"
Akira huffed, smoothing down her robes and then her hair. She was dressed impeccably in the latest style, nothing out of place. An attractive woman, Akira had been taught to make the most of her appearance, to enhance it with makeup and fine clothes and jewellery. And she'd taken to her training like a young bird takes to flight. Her graying brown hair was upswept, gold dangled from her ears, nails were painted a soft red, the lines on her pretty face disguised as much as was possible. She looked good. But with a swiftness that startled Mai, the daughter saw the mother in a merciless light, saw her as an aging woman, saw her cracks and flaws in plain relief. Mai was now what her mother was then. Time played those tricks on everyone, changed roles, took away power. Mai had no reason to be upset by Akira. The daughter was in control now. She had the power.
"Clearly, you're still out of sorts. I'm not here to argue. I'm here to see my granddaughter. It's almost as though you've been keeping me from her." The woman waited for Mai to dispute her words. She said nothing. "I can take her for a few hours, you know, if you're tired." The offer was a genuine one. Mai could hear that.
"We have a nurse." Akira's face looked as though Mai had reached across the room and smacked it. The younger woman felt bad suddenly and softened her words. Compassion and kindness were never bad things. Her power must be wielded well, though old habits were hard to break free of. "But maybe sometime, if you want. That would be a help."
"All right then, good; may I hold her?" Akira moved closer and reached her arms out.
Mai nodded, relinquishing Miyako. Part of her felt as though she'd rid herself of a burden and then guilt stabbed her hard, one of her own darts through the heart. She watched as her mother spoke to the infant in quiet tones, her features softened by the honest smile she wore. It reminded Mai of Tom-Tom's infancy, how her mother took to the boy as she had never taken to Mai. Of course, Mai could not recall the first months of her life, how much or how little Akira had cared. But her toddlerhood and childhood were replete with rejection rather than acceptance, coldness rather than warmth, disappointment rather than pride. No matter what her mother might do now, how good she might be with Miyako, how much Tom loved her, Mai would not forget.
"She's grown so much in four weeks. Before we know it, little Miya will be walking."
And maybe by then I'll be me once more.
"Let's not rush things, Mother."
"No, you're right. But it does go by quickly. I look at your brother and gasp sometimes. How did he get to be fourteen years old? He's nearly a man."
It was Mai's turn to soften her expression. "He's a good kid, a good brother. You did something right with him." The words emerged before she could retrieve them. Harmless on their own, it was all about emphasis and the unspoken implication that Akira had done nothing right with Mai.
Akira pressed her lips together tight and jutted her chin out. She held her tongue, however. Did she realize something about her daughter's state of mind? Had she recently learned that sometimes saying nothing is better? Or was she simply too angry and hurt to think of a suitable response? Mai didn't care. But she was glad Akira had not mounted an attack. She lacked the energy to retaliate with her usual sharpness.
Tom-Tom eased the tension when he rejoined them. The teenager set a heavy tray down. "No fighting," he ordered good-naturedly. "Mom, would you like some tea?" He poured for Mai first, handing his sister the cup.
"Yes, dear; thank you."
He poured again before edging the tray toward Mai. "Eat."
"Yes, master."
Mai reached for a sandwich. She nibbled its edges and fought the urge to spit it back out. It felt like paste in her mouth. A swig of tea forced the offending bits down her throat. When Tom's attention was distracted, Mai snuck the partially eaten sandwich back onto the dish. She felt like a small child trying to pull something over on one of her parents.
Akira had no problem finishing her sandwich and reached for a second without hesitation. "These are wonderful. I didn't realize how hungry I was."
Miyako wriggled about on the sofa and Tom-Tom put a hand on her tummy to steady her. "Don't want you falling off, do we, Miya?"
"Mai and I were talking about me taking Miya for a few hours here and there. Won't that be lovely, Tom-Tom?" She narrowed her eyes then as though something had just occurred to her. "Wait a minute; why are you here? There's school today. I watched you leave this morning."
"Oh, that; yeah, well, I decided visiting Mai and Miyako was more important." He shrugged. "It's not a big deal."
"We'll get a letter. I hate those letters." She let out an exasperated rush of air. "Really, Tom-Tom, I thought better of you. Wait, did you come here to visit or to warn Mai about me?" The boy fidgeted with the black sash of his school uniform and would not meet his mother's eyes. "Am I that bad? You have to warn your sister that I'm coming?"
"Look," he blurted. "Mai's, she's not well, I mean, she's having a bad time right now and I thought that maybe she'd want to prepare herself a bit for your visit. You and Mai don't exactly get along. And she doesn't need the stress. It's not good for her or the baby."
He sounds so mature, like a grownup and so protective.
Mai's love for her brother had never been stronger than at that moment.
"Oh, so you're a physician now? And when did that happen? I guess your father and I missed it." Getting up from her seat, Akira gave Tom-Tom a withering look before turning her attention to Mai. "You can deal with him for the rest of the day." She bent down to kiss Miyako before striding across the floor and closing the door with a bang. Perhaps the import of her son's words would hit her later. Mai was grateful that Akira hadn't questioned her more about this 'bad time'.
"Guess I screwed up." Tom-Tom threw himself against the back of the sofa. "I'm sorry, Mai. I just wanted to….." He slammed a hand against his forehead. "I'm such an idiot."
"I know." Mai giggled for the first time since Miyako's birth. "You remind me of Zuko right now."
"You laughed."
"I did."
"That's a good thing."
"It is. Thank you, Tom. You're welcome to stay in the palace. But I need a nap right now and Miya is going to need a feeding soon."
He took the hint and stood up, bringing the baby to Mai. "I'll go find Zuko or Iroh. You sleep."
Mai grabbed his hand and held it for a moment. "Mother doesn't handle initiative or disobedience very well. But she'll get over it."
"I'm not worried, Mai, not about that."
And then Tom-Tom was gone, his words echoing in her mind. It seemed that everyone was worried about her. Mai was more worried than all of them put together. She was the only one who knew the full extent of her depression, the terrible depths of her despair. Maybe it was time to let someone else know. Mai felt ready, or as ready as she would ever be.
~~~~0000~~~~
When the nurse arrived later in the afternoon, Mai slipped away from her rooms and went in search of Iroh. Swamped with duties, Zuko would be occupied until dinner time. She found the general turned tea maker and businessman sitting by a window in the library.
"Mai! Is this a happy coincidence or were you looking for me?"
"It's one of my favorite spots." That was true before. But she hadn't given the library or books or the view of the garden any thought for weeks. She hoped that would change soon too. Mai wanted and needed some semblance of normality back in her life, her normal, the normal she shared with Zuko and the new normal they needed to create with Miyako. "But I was looking for you."
"I'm flattered. What can I do to help, my dear?" Iroh shifted over a bit so there was room on the window seat for Mai.
She sat, adjusting her robes, taking her time, gathering up the tangled threads of her thoughts, trying to make a coherent whole of them. Both stared outside, watching the waning sun fight its way through thick foliage, dappling the grass below. The chatter of birds and the hum of cicadas were constant and soothing. Mai felt the urge to sleep again. She pushed it aside. "I need to talk. And Zuko, he, he'll get too upset. You're calmer and I need that right now." Iroh nodded, giving her permission to continue. "I'm scared." Her voice broke and Mai pressed a hand to her mouth.
"I know," he acknowledged, patting her free hand. The old man gave Mai an encouraging smile. "Take your time; I've got all day."
"I don't think I love Miyako like I'm supposed to." That was difficult to voice aloud. "I worry that I never will. I worry that I'm bad. I worry that Zuko will come to despise me." Mai took a huge breath before continuing. "My rational mind says all that is nonsense. But you can see that I'm not like most new mothers, can't you?"
"Hmmm…." Iroh stroked his long, grey beard. "I've not met many new mothers. My wife, she died soon after Lu Ten was born. She only held him once." Mai watched emotions dance their way across the old man's face. Though his grief had been tempered by time, it had never gone away, not entirely. "Ursa, she was overjoyed when Zuko was born. He was a bright spot in an otherwise troubled life." He shrugged then before shaking his head. "But every person is different, Mai, every woman, every experience. I know you want some sort of guideline to measure yourself against. But I'm not sure I can give that to you." He held her hand now and the warmth of his skin comforted Mai. "I wish there was a label we could use, something for you to hold on to. I wish I knew other women who feel as you do right now. I'm certain they're out there."
"I wish that too. I'm so sad and so tired and all I really want to do is stay in bed forever. But I don't sleep well and I ache and I get angry and sometimes I resent Miyako so much. She's my daughter, my baby and sometimes I wish she would disappear." Once the tears began, Mai could not stop them. They fell down her cheeks and off her chin, dripping onto her scarlet robes, making a dark patch.
Iroh took her in his arms and held her. He said nothing, just let her weep. She sobbed into his chest until whatever well tears sprung from dried up. Shuddering, she pulled out of his embrace.
"I'm sorry," she muttered. Mai felt exposed and raw, the opposite of her usual composed and reticent self, like someone who had changed outfits after wearing the same one for years. This new one did not fit well.
"Don't be sorry, Mai. It's good to cry."
"What am I going to do? What if I never get better?"
"Look at all the changes your body went through while you were pregnant. I'll bet we don't know half of what goes on inside. Perhaps, after you had Miyako, your body didn't return to its regular state. Maybe it takes some women longer. Maybe your body and your mind still have some adjustments to make. Be patient. Zuko and I are here to help. And no one thinks you're crazy. And we know you love Miyako. Despite those feelings, you wanted her and you want her now. I can see that."
"Really? You can?" She sounded so vulnerable and childlike, so dependent on Iroh's reassurance.
"Yes, Mai, I can. I don't say what it isn't true."
She half believed him. And that was better than not believing at all.
"No, I don't suppose that you do."
"Have I helped, even a tiny bit?"
"I'm not sure right now, honestly. But I don't feel worse."
"Mai, I think you should talk to Zuko." Iroh lifted a finger, halting her protest. "Give him a chance to help or a chance to listen at least." She nodded while looking reluctant. "I have an idea that I'm going to pursue."
"What idea is that?" Iroh struggled for a moment, torn between telling and not telling. "I'm going to write to Katara and some other people I know, see if they've encountered your symptoms before."
Mai felt a surge of hope then a surge of fear. What if Katara had encountered something similar before? What if these other people had? There might be hundreds, thousands of women like Mai. Or, what if none of them had ever met anyone like Mai, had never heard of a case like hers? She might be completely alone. And what was more terrifying than that?
~~~~0000~~~~
Miyako fussed at bedtime. She squirmed in Mai's arms as though getting free was all she wanted. Frustrated, Mai passed her over to Zuko.
"I don't know what's wrong with her. I've tried everything."
Zuko had no luck either and decided to simply put Miyako down in her bassinet, crying or not. All her needs had been met. She'd been held and kissed and sung to. Slightly embarrassed, Zuko had rasped some old lullaby dredged from the depths of his memory. It had only made the infant cry harder.
"She'll fall asleep eventually; she has to."
Both of them hated the sound of her crying, the sound itself and whatever her wails might represent. Their inability to soothe made each feel like a failure. The idea that neither Daddy nor Mommy could always make things right was a blow to each, though Mai already felt insecure when it came to their daughter.
"I guess," Mai shrugged. She imagined Miyako crying forever and ever, the ceaseless sound of her screams echoing throughout the palace. Mai's mind took her to dark places these days, far darker than any she had visited before, even during her most trying times; Zuko's banishment, the Boiling Rock.
"She will." Zuko sounded more confident.
He hugged her from behind, arms encircling her waist, placing gentle kisses on her neck. It felt good and Mai pressed her body tight against his.
"I had a talk with Iroh today."
"Oh?"
"It helped, a bit, I think. He's going to ask around, write to some people he knows, about my…." A laugh escaped, brief and bitter….."peculiar situation."
"Katara?"
"She's one of them, yeah."
"Good, that's good." He cleared his throat before resting his chin on her shoulder. "You can talk to me."
"Yeah, I know." She savored the feel of his breath on her skin. "You won't hate me, will you, no matter what I say?"
"Never." Zuko turned his wife about so that he could stare into her eyes. "Never," he repeated. "Tell me everything."
Mai led him to the bed, pushing him down gently before curling up behind him. She wasn't brave enough to watch his face while she talked. She feared what might show in those eyes of his, the most expressive eyes she had ever seen; the most beautiful too.
"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice muffled against the solid wall of his back.
"I'm ready." Zuko's voice was sure and steady and Mai took comfort in that.
And then she began.