Chapter 53 Love, It Wasn't My Fault
Carmen shows Brennan to the bathroom right off the kitchen so she can splash some water on her face and do anything else she need to do.
"Temperance - you just take all the time you need," suggests Carmen through the bathroom door. "There's no schedule here. Just a couple of friends sitting down for a meal. Whenever you are ready, we'll go back to the living room where I am sure the guys are talking about whatever guys talk about. Cars, or sports, or computers … cars."
"Dongles?" Carmen hears Brennan say through the door.
"Yes! Even dongles. And I don't even want to know what that means!"
"You know, you remind me of someone I know - but I just can't put a finger on it."
"Maybe we knew each other in a past life."
"Oh, I don't believe in past lives."
"That's okay, I do. And neither of our belief systems have any effect on the existence or nonexistence of past lives anyway - or anything else for that matter. We are inconsequential. So it's not worth getting all worked up about. Know what I mean?"
"I DO know what you mean. And I agree. In my work I deal with things that can be proven, usually beyond a reasonable doubt. Scientists who research and theorize about that which cannot be proven or disproven baffle me. How can one live without results?"
"I … do not …. know, Temp. Can I call you Temp?"
"Sure. Just don't call me late for dinner, ha!" she laughs at her own joke. "I'm sorry, my dad used to say that all the time when someone asked to shorten his name - Max or Maxi or Maxi million - I never really understood what was so funny about it. But there you have it."
"You have everything you need in there?" asks Carmen.
"Yes, I am fine," says Brennan splashing cold water on her face. "Could you please tell Booth that I am okay. There's nothing to be concerned about."
"Sure. Be right back," Carmen leaves the kitchen and is back in less than three minutes. "Enrique would like to know if you are up for a little wine - or something a little stiffer?"
"Ohhhhhh - a really cold beer would be good right now," Brennan answers, taking a break and sitting on the toilet lid, her elbow leaning on the paper roll and her forehead in her hand. WHAT is going on with me, she thinks to herself. Ruling out food allergies - because she hadn't eaten anything. Ruling out ovulation - because she'd just had her period, peri menopause was ruled out by the doctor. THis doesn't seem to be neurological, but it wouldn't hurt to get checked out.
Carmen delivers the drink order to Enrique and returns to the kitchen just as Brennan is closing the bathroom door behind her. "Oh, don't close that door - the kids will think there's someone in there are refuse to use it until I prove otherwise," she explains.
"How do you do it, Carmen?" Brennan asks.
"Do what?"
"Always have the kids at the forefront of your mind - always be one step ahead of them?"
"Always put the garbage can on top of the kitchen counter?"
"Precisely. How do you know what to do?"
"It takes a lot of planning. I talk to myself all day long. I ask myself, what can I do while the kids are awake or, better yet, when they're asleep, is it more important to shower or nap if I get a free half hour, do I have enough in my bag to entertain the kids if we get stuck in the grocery store check out line or rush hour traffic, they want ice cream - but what has their sugar intake already been today, do I have enough snacks to keep the munchies/whineys/tantrums away?"
"Wow," says Brennan, visibly impressed. "I have enough trouble taking care of just one person - I can't imagine being responsible for two whole other people in addition."
"I find comfort in knowing that women have raised children for centuries. Some successfully, some not so successfully. But the population hasn't turned out too awfully terrible. And if all those women survived it, surely I can too."
"That is a very anthropological approach, Carmen. I can respect that."
"Thanks, but I'm no hero, Temp. I have many friends that I lean on, and my sisters. Enrique does more than most husbands, so I feel fortunate to have his supportive. Oh, and my moms' group is always there for me. I could never do all this on my own."
"And the rest is all trial and error, Sweetie Pie. Trial and error. Emphasis on the error part," Carmen leans back against a counter top and takes a moment just to look at Brennan. "No one is really born a natural mother," she says cocking her head to one side. "That's a bunch of HORSE PUCKIES created by men to manipulate women into being responsible for all things domestic - including birthing, clothing, feeding, educating, loving, disciplining, defending and supporting the offspring. Which, of course comes on top of clothing, feeding, training, loving, obeying, satisfying, and supporting the man of the house."
"When did you figure all that out?" Brennan asks, intrigued. "And was it too late by then?"
"Oh, I knew about it well before I fell in love with Enrique. Did you know that many cultures, tribes, and communities in human history were matriarchal societies? I could get you a list, if you'd like to see it. I did my master's thesis on this topic."
"Oh, no, Carmen. I'm quite well read on this topic myself. Being an anthropologist …" she chuckles.
"Oh I am so sorry! Forgive me for running on like this. Enrique rarely has friends over that I connect with. It's nice to have someone here who understands and is interested."
"So … knowing everything you know - the denigration of women to the status of domestic, nursemaid, housekeeper, geisha, teacher, cheerleader, servant … not to mention the inequitable expectations regarding your financial independence which. in most cases, disappears … You were aware of all that …"
"Yes, fully. Still am."
"Yet you Still chose to get married? That baffles me," Brennan says, a look of confusion on her face.
"Oh, that. Well, I'm not responsible for that - I was drugged."
"What? You mean Enrique used gamma-hydroxybutyric acid or benzodiazepines (Roofies) to get you to marry him?"
"No, silly. Try adrenaline, dopamine, fenylethylamine, endorphin and oxytocin. All drugs my own body used against me to get me to participate in the continuance of the human race."
"No way!" Brennan can't believe she's on the receiving end of these comments. It's like she's talking to herself, a much more emotional and lively self. One that is MARRIED.
"Yes way! I was drugged. It wasn't my fault!" Carmen is flashing a fabulous smile and enjoying every moment of this conversation.
"Temp, all my friends think I'm crazy for looking at life this way, but come on, look at the woman in her right mind would willingly choose marriage and all that other stuff unless she was in a drug-induced stupor that lasted through a courtship, an engagement, and the first five weeks of marriage? Seriously."
"Your point is valid considering the evidence. I concur. Then why have you stayed married, now that the adrenaline, dopamine, fenylethylamine, endorphin and oxytocin have worn off?"
"Oh, they haven't completely worn off. I have surges every now and again. But the thing is I love this man. He is a good and wonderful man. He's a fantastic father to our children. He is a beautiful man … and he loves me. He loves me - all the time. I don't know how he does it, because I can be a major witch. Yet, he always finds me beautiful. And he says the sweetest things that melt me when I least expect it. Not real frequently, mind you. But … I am in love with him - and THAT Is over and above the adrenaline, dopamine, fenylethylamine, endorphin and oxytocin."
Brennan stands there in the kitchen letting everything Carmen has just said swim around in her head.
"I was a very independent woman when I met Enrique, still am, actually. However, being with him long enough - and truly KNOWING him … and then loving him … I had to make a choice. Everyone else was getting married and having babies. I was the outlier. So I chose between guaranteed independence, self-sufficiency, financial freedom, mobility, and many other things - but no Enrique. That was choice number one. Choice number two was living with the potentiality of losing my identity, my figure, my professional position, my financial freedom, my independence, my life as I knew it - but getting to have Enrique be a part of it in a committed, legal marriage. What I have found is that I have lost very little, very little. And gain so much more. More than I ever could have on my own. And I don't just mean babies, Temperance."
"I've talked you rear off enough for two evenings! Let's go see how the guys are doing …" Carmen says.
Brennan doesn't say anything at first, she's deep in thought though still also very tired.
"What is your masters degree in?" Brennan asks.
"MBA: Corporate Law, emphasis on contract negotiations."
"And how does your thesis of matriarchal cultures fit under that umbrella?"
"All politics mirror mankind's first politicking. The battle between the sexes. If you study historically how the women and men negotiated their roles through out the centuries, you understand the base issues at the core of ALL negotiations. It's quite fascinating. At least it was to me," she finishes.
Brennan starts to yawn and puts her fist in front of her mouth. "It is clear that this topic is fascinating to you. I find that I am enjoying this conversation more than I have any others between two women in quite some time."
"And here I thought I was putting you to sleep!" They both laugh. "Let's join the men before they get out the cigars and stink up the place …"
"I love a good cigar …"
"I'm not gonna touch that with a ten foot pole …" smirks Carmen, grinning slyly.
"CARMEN! You're horrible!" replies Brennan, slapping her on the arm.
"No, I'm FUN," Carmen replies with a twinkle in her eyes.
