New York City Mama
The day after supper out with my parents, I sent a next-day delivery letter to Naomi, telling her I was coming in a few days, what my flight number was and when I'd be there. I said I was coming with a friend, and staying for a week. Then I went back home and spent some serious time with my family so I didn't have to think about the upcoming trip.
Xavier was right. Being at the airport did make it more real. I found myself silent, nervous and unable to sit still as we waited to board the plane. I think I walked the entire airport during the wait, Xavier following behind with a concerned look in his eyes. But he didn't say anything, and that helped the most.
The plane trip was almost as bad. At least we had a movie to watch, some inane comedy that had me laughing nonetheless. I ate both my and Xavier's bags of pretzels without thinking about it, and drank too much Coke. Pepsi. Something caffeinated. Then it was time to land, and I clung to the armrests with claw-like fingers.
I knew right away which woman at the airport was Naomi. She looked just like me. Curly brown hair, hers to her waist. My brown eyes. Her skin was a bit darker, and her mouth poutier, but I saw no other difference. She wore a lovely dress, gauzy and a pale rose with embroidered flowers over it, and sandals that laced up to her knees.
On seeing me, her eyes grew wide, and a nervous smile washed over her face. "Ruth," she called out in a lovely, fluty voice.
Before I knew it, I was in the next room, in my birthmother's arms.
"I can't believe it," she said as we boarded the cab, my luggage in the trunk. I sat in the middle, between Xavier and my birthmother, and kept looking between the two with a wide grin. All my fear had gone away. This woman was so familiar, and it was so right to be with her again. "Look how grown up you are! I wish I had looked this good at 21."
I laughed. "I'm sure you were, Naomi-mom. Now I know what I will look like at your age, and I am quite happy. But enough on me. Tell me about you. Tell me what you do. Tell me if I have family. Where do you live? What's your favorite place in the city? What do you like to eat? Tell me if I'm going too fast."
"Too fast? You ask questions like I did when I was a kid! I can keep up just fine! Maybe we should be worrying about Xavier, though."
"Don't," he said, laughter in his voice. "Seeing Ruth this happy makes me happy. This reminds me why I fell…" He paused.
"Fell in love with her? Don't worry. I'm not so orthodox that I think Ruthie can only fall in love with Jewish men. My life has taught me to have an open mind, when it comes to love." She blushed. "As you will see when we come to my home…where I hope you will have an open mind…"
"My heart-sister Mary is an ex-con and divorced mother, and my other heart-sister is a minister in training. I am pretty open to life's varieties."
"Good. Good." She breathed out, as if in relief, and I wondered what she was like, who she loved that made her worry that I'd not approve. Was he a different color? Before I could mention that Mary's ex was Latino, she continued, "As for me, well, I'm an artist who owns her own gallery. I look for new talent and help bring it out into the open. You'll see my gallery on this trip, I hope? I call it New Blue Skies. You do have family, as I married a while after…" She paused, then continued, "None of them could replace you, know that, darling Ruthie, but I couldn't hold my life, and I wanted you to have brothers and sisters. You have a younger sister and brother. Rebecca's an actress in training, and Alex is still torn between law and being a firefighter. I have pictures."
"Well, let's see them!" Xavier and I chorused.
"Or, since we just got to my place, maybe you can meet them!" she said, as the taxi pulled to the curb. Brownstone row houses stood before us, and one had a rainbow flag before it and flowerpots in every window. The driver got my bags out, took the far and tip, and left with a cheery wave. Turning, she led us to the house with the rainbow flag.
Wait. Did this mean my mother loved women?
Now I was really intrigued. If she loved women, how did she have two more kids? Xavier grabbed the bags before I could move, and gestured with his chin for me to go forth, follow Naomi-mom. So I did.
The lobby was bright, white with blue and yellow highlights. Windchimes danced on either side of the window above the door, and a table on one side of the lobby held colorful glass bowls filled with stones, glass beads and shells. A staircase ran up to a second, then a third, level, with balconies looking down to the lobby. "Freddi redid this place top to bottom. She's an amazing architect, and it's only because of her that we can afford to live here."
"It's pretty," I said, looking through a door to a white Art Deco living room with aubergine and silver highlights . I liked the giant fireplace and cute little silver drinks trolley best, I think, or maybe the enormous white carpet on the black slate floor.
The rest of the house was just as nice, and Xavier and I found she wanted us to stay in the attic guest rooms. "Save money, get out of the hotel," she insisted. "I know your parents, and they aren't rich, are they? Nor are you two."
"My parents do well," Xavier said, in a quiet tone. I realized, with a start, that in all the time we'd dated…I'd never asked about his parents, nor seen pictures of them, and he had never volunteered any information about them. I vowed to ask that night. "But I think I would, as well as Ruthie, love to stay here."
"Oh, definitely," I said. "I only picked a hotel because I don't know our meeting would be like this. So…right."
She was beaming as strongly as I was. "I know! I was expecting you to be nervous, or to immediately fire at me why I didn't trey harder to find you. That I should have remembered your parent's names…"
"Can I ask why you didn't?" I said softly.
"I am sure they told you the story of how they got you," she said. I nodded. "Good. So you know what kind of attitude I had back then. Sullen. Or, rather, depressed. My beloved had died, before we could be married. I was of the mind to not live, and, sad to say, I took it out on everyone who loved me. Including you, a helpless baby. I should have known better. But I didn't."
The door opened and slammed, and a familiar voice cried out, "Mama! I'm home! Has the prodigal daughter arrived yet, or do I have time to make myself up? Dance practice was a beast! Simply horrid!"
"She's here, Rebecca," Naomi called back. "Where's Alex?"
"Picking up Chinese with Freddi and Anton. Should be home in 10."
Imagine my surprise to see the flashy golden haired Rebecca from my school dashing into the living room. She stopped cold on seeing us, her eyes growing wide, and she dropped that familiar pink duffel bag and began to laugh. "This is unreal!" she cried out. "The goodie-goodie Christian right winger is my sister!"
I felt the usual twinge of annoyance at seeing her, but it was followed by curiosity and a desire to make peace, to make Naomi happy. "Come on, Rebecca, that was only the first two years of college. Ivy and Cindy trained me out of those knee-jerk ways. I'm far more open-minded than I used to be, and, apparently, I'm Jewish by blood."
She paused, looked at me carefully, then nodded. "Okay, because preaching here would be so not cool."
"I promise, I have no calling to be a preacher."
She grinned. "Good. I'll be back. Shower. Dance." Grimacing, she took up her bag and dashed up the stairs.
"She's just like I was at her age," Naomi said. "We take after the artiste stereotype as if it's a guideline of behavior." She laughed.
I placed chin in hand. "Hmm. And I'm a literature/journalism major? Does that make me a hard-hitting artiste?"
That had everyone laughing.
I couldn't stop smiling, laughing. This was so wonderful. I had not one family, but two, and I was going to meet the rest of them. My brother, my sister, my mother's lover, and the mysterious Anton. To think I'd been afraid in the airport, on the plane. How silly I had been…
And then the door opened again, and I was leaning forward, eager to meet the rest of my family.