62. Daughter-in-law
(Rosa's story, Part 2B of 2)
"Two months later, at Karl's urging, I did Maud the courtesy of informing her in person that I'd gotten married that morning, and was moving out, then and there. Considering our history, you might think I took a certain bitter satisfaction in blind-siding her with the news, but all I felt in that moment was a tired grief and a great impatience to be gone. Barricaded in my room, I filled two new suitcases with my belongings while Karl held Maud off, stoically absorbing the storm of her insults and curses. When I was packed, we gave her in farewell an envelope containing the receipt for July's rent, and enough cash to tide her over for a month. She would've dearly loved to throw it in our faces, I'm sure, but she settled for screaming at our backs that I wasn't to come crawling back to her when our marriage failed, as it inevitably would. She was done with me.
"We'd managed to keep Maud completely in the dark about our engagement by telling absolutely no one. I didn't wear the diamond ring Karl bought me, not even on a chain around my neck, and, in public, we tried to behave no differently than we had before. Sometimes though, Karl could not quite contain his new happiness, and Natalie, picking up on the change in him, guessed the truth. She swore not to breathe a word to a soul, and I believed she'd kept her promise, until, that is, I saw my restaurant family gathered in the courthouse chapel for our civil ceremony. I thought I understood, then, why she'd advocated so strongly for a morning wedding, but no one, it turned out, had to rush back to the restaurant. It had been closed until evening, and a wedding breakfast, complete with champagne, cake, and gifts, awaited us. Despite its being thrown together in a matter of days, no bride ever had a better, more joyful reception, and when, the party over, we were showered with rice as we drove away, I didn't feel at all as if I'd eloped. I'd had my 'big day,' just as every girl dreams of.
"For Karl, though, the day had been less than perfect. He would've liked his mother to be there, but as it was reasonable to assume she'd want to meet my family if she knew of our engagement, he'd reluctantly kept it from her. Understandably, he didn't want our marriage to come as a shock to her, either, and so, we compromised: he told her he was getting serious about a girl he'd been dating for a while, and asked if he could bring me along the next time he visited. She said she'd be delighted.
"I'd had some experience of Estelle Baer, having waited on her the previous fall when Karl treated her to dinner at the restaurant. I remember being struck by her upright carriage and polished manners. She was handsome rather than beautiful, tall like her son, and, though well into her fifties, toned and trim. Her clothes, hair style, make-up — everything about her spoke of refinement and good taste. I envied her air of command and self-possession, and when later I learned she'd managed a large, busy office before taking a well-earned retirement earlier in the year, I wasn't the least surprised.
"Watching them together that evening had been at once heartwarming and bittersweet. The strong, loving bond between mother and son contrasted sharply with my relationship with Maud, and yet, as I was to discover, their closeness had resulted from similar circumstances. When Karl was eight, his father had died of an especially aggressive cancer, leaving Estelle to raise their only child alone. She'd responded to this tragedy by devoting herself single-mindedly to Karl's upbringing, working a demanding job to provide him not only with the basic necessities of life but also with certain small luxuries — vacation trips, private lessons, entertainments and the like. Karl had been mindful of his mother's sacrifices, and repaid her by being a son she could boast of, and, as an adult, someone she could lean on, in her turn, for companionship and concern. That summer, he'd moved away from home to live closer to work, but he still drove out to see her regularly, and, as was their tradition, had vacationed with her in the Bahamas between Christmas and New Year's.
"Most women, I know, would be content just to rub along well enough with their in-laws, but I was a girl who still longed for a mother, and I nursed the secret hope that I would, in time, have some share of the maternal love Estelle bestowed so lavishly on Karl. Our first meeting, however, was nothing short of a disaster. Karl had no sooner ushered me into her House-Beautiful living room than Estelle's gracious smile faltered. She recovered quickly, and made me welcome, but I couldn't help but be aware I'd failed to make a good first impression. Matters didn't improve over lunch when she learned I worked as a waitress, and not for the commendable purpose of socking away money for college. Asked what I planned to do after graduation if I didn't mean to further my education, I did myself no favors by talking vaguely about possible internships and evening classes. Karl came to my rescue, making it sound as if my flailing about for direction was a deliberate voyage of self-discovery, but Estelle regarded me dubiously all the same. Shortly afterward, she happened to recall she'd recently run into Karl's high school girlfriend, lovelier than ever, and did he know she'd finished up her MBA? At Wharton, no less. She'd sent him her best regards…
"I remember staring fixedly through the passenger-side window on the drive home, too mortified to speak. Karl begged me not to let his mother's blunt manner upset me; she had a tendency of coming on too strong, she didn't mean anything by it. But it wasn't simply that Estelle Baer hadn't taken a liking to me; it was how thoroughly she'd dismissed me as an acceptable girlfriend for her son. I'd seen myself reflected in her eyes: immature, graceless, unaccomplished, weak. And the worst of it was, I couldn't fault her judgment. I agreed with her. I wasn't Karl's equal, I had little to offer him, I had no business marrying him. These, and similar sentiments, had been whispering through my head since the start of our engagement. It had only needed Estelle's disapproval to make them deafeningly loud.
"I choked out that I was sorry, I couldn't go through with the wedding, after all. I'd changed my mind.
"He didn't react at once. Then, very calmly, he repeated, 'You've changed your mind. And your heart? Has that changed, too?'
"I had to admit it hadn't.
"'Well, then,' he said, 'there's room for discussion.'
"He had me explain my reasons, and when I was done, he agreed I was being unfair — to myself. Everything I'd described as a character flaw he saw as merely a function of my youth. It was, he said, like blaming a caterpillar for not being a butterfly, or a bud for not being a flower. I was still growing, still evolving. As for my not being good enough for him, would he have accepted my offer if he'd thought that? Did I think him easily deceived, or incapable of looking out for his own best interest, because, he assured me, he was neither. He asked that I show the respect I claimed to have for him by honoring his choice, even if I thought it wrong-headed. 'It's not for you to judge whether or not you're worth loving,' he told me. 'That's my purview, and I've given my answer. The only question you should be asking yourself is whether you can be happily married to me. Base your decision on that.'
"I let myself be comforted, particularly as, by then, he had more than words at his disposal to soothe me. Self-doubt continued to nag at me, but when it hit, I focused on Karl's reassurances, and managed to keep the negative thoughts at bay. It helped, as well, that, at Karl's prompting no doubt, Estelle was a kinder, gentler version of herself the next time we met. As our wedding day approached, she was no closer to embracing me with open arms, however, so we kept our plans secret.
"We had a brief, wonderful honeymoon on the Maryland shore. On our return, Karl thought it best for him to break the news of our elopement to his mother alone, and, coward that I was, I let him. He came back a long afternoon later, and, though he tried to hide it, I could see Estelle had put him through the ringer. She'd felt so 'betrayed' at being excluded, so 'hurt' at being deprived of her proud-mother-of-the-groom moment that, to mollify her, Karl had agreed to let her throw us a 'real' reception. As it was to be her 'gift' to us, she insisted on making all the arrangements and assuming all the expense, herself. The result was a stiff, formal affair more to her taste than ours, but as the party had always been more for her sake than ours, we went through the motions gladly enough. The guests, seeing Estelle in all her glory, could be forgiven for taking away the impression that she genuinely reveled in her son and new daughter-in-law. My more modest hope, and Karl's, was that she was truly reconciled to the marriage.
"It soon became clear, though, that all was not forgiven, and that I was to bear the brunt of her displeasure. The first few months, she barely condescended to speak to me, and was forever sneaking these odd, assessing looks at my waistline. It was only when she began to soften slightly toward me, and stopped being so obsessed with my figure that I realized what she'd been looking for. When I confronted him, Karl admitted she'd jumped to the conclusion that I was pregnant, and had added insult to injury by refusing to believe his denials. I didn't embarrass him further by asking if she suspected me of getting pregnant on purpose. Her chill politeness made her opinion of my character all too obvious.
"She had to acquit me of tricking Karl into fatherhood, but she remained no less skeptical of my motives. The fact that I gave up my waitressing job and couldn't give her a good reason why fed neatly into her suspicion that I'd married Karl solely for a cushy place to land. I couldn't bring myself to tell her I'd felt obliged to give notice because of Maud. My mother had been coming in to the restaurant once or twice a week to harangue me in full view of the diners, disturbing their peace and provoking my co-workers to come to my defense. It had grieved me to turn in my apron, but the restaurant stood to lose business on my account, and I couldn't have that. Later, Maud worked out where we were living, and started to hassle us on our doorstep, so, once the lease on the apartment was up, we rented a small house a long walk from any bus stop, effectively putting ourselves out of easy reach. That proved enough to discourage Maud, finally, and we didn't see her again.
"Estelle was, of course, curious to know who 'my people' were, and it was another strike against me that I wouldn't open my heart to her on the subject. Karl explained that talking about my family was painful for me, but she only bristled at my 'shutting her out,' and, most hurtfully, based on nothing more than my withholding the details of my estrangement from Maud, she decided that my mother was the one of us more sinned-against than sinning. 'Whatever you perceive as the offenses she's committed against you,' Estelle saw fit to lecture me, 'the woman gave birth to you, very likely in agony. You owe her for that. Respect. Gratitude. Remember: you wouldn't be here if not for her.'
"Looking back after all these years, I'm indignant on my younger self's behalf, but, at eighteen, I suffered her hostility in silence, largely out of consideration for Karl. I was intent on repaying his faith in me by being the very best wife possible, and that meant, at the very least, not causing a rift between him and the mother he loved. I hadn't entirely given up hope, either, of eventually winning my way into Estelle's good graces. I was prepared to be humble, and to work hard, but, just as with Maud, no matter how I tried, I never met with her approval.
"She found fault with everything I did, though she was subtle about it in front of Karl. When she came over for dinner, for example, she'd inspect the table setting before sitting down, always managing to find a fork, glass or plate that 'could be cleaner.' She'd pick at the food I'd cooked, claiming she wasn't very hungry, only to take a second or third helping of the salad or side-dish she'd brought to share. She'd wrinkle her nose, and ask if I purchased store-brand items, or marked-down produce, if I always checked expiration dates. If we ate at her house, she'd have doubled whatever recipe she was making, and pressed the leftovers on Karl as we left, so he'd have 'something tasty' to eat over the coming week.
"My housekeeping didn't measure up any better than my cooking. My kitchen was so poorly organized, she had to empty the cupboards and re-order everything, herself. She'd go through the refrigerator, and throw away anything that, in her estimation, was rotting, spoiled or unhealthy. She'd be overlong in the bathroom, and, when she came out, she'd have conveniently 'forgotten' to return the cleaning products or rubber gloves she'd used under the sink. Karl had given her a key to our house, for 'emergencies,' but she dropped in unannounced all the time, hoping, I think, to catch me lounging around in my pajamas and fuzzy slippers, my nose in a novel, and a box of chocolates on my lap. One day, I came home from running errands to find she'd not only replaced the living room rug with one more to her liking, but rearranged the furniture as well.
"And then there were her backhanded compliments and 'kindly-meant' critiques of my appearance. She pronounced me 'pretty enough' but not a patch on any number of women Karl might have married. The way I dressed left much to be desired, too; she bought me 'nicer' clothes that were invariably styled for someone much younger or older than me, leaving me the choice of looking like a middle-aged frump or an overgrown child. She even went so far as to suggest I change my hair color, since Karl had always shown a marked preference for blonds.
"If, after months of continuous digs and slights, I had any illusions I'd made a dent in Estelle's disapproval, that changed the day my passport arrived in the mail. 'What could you possibly need that for?' she asked, suspicious and scornful at once. 'Planning to travel the world, are you?' I explained I needed a passport for the family trip to the Bahamas after Christmas. 'Oh,' she said, dumbfounded for a moment. 'I didn't realize you were coming.'
Bonnie could hold her tongue no longer. "What an awful woman!"
"Yes," Rosa said, somberly. "She could be a real piece of work. But happily, something happened while we were in Eleuthera that caused a sea change in our relationship."
"What did you do? Save her from drowning?"
"No, no. Something much less demanding. I simply got pregnant."