"I heard Mommy and Grandma talking," Jessica said. "Grandma was crying and said you hate her."
Crystal set the necklaces down and turned around. "What did your mother say?"
The present forgotten for the moment, Jessica looked at her aunt intently. "Mommy said she didn't think you hated Grandma but that she would talk to you again and Grandma said not to because she understood why you hated her." The young girl tilted her head, the mannerism reminiscent of her mother. "What did Grandma do that you hate her, Aunt Crystal?"
"Um" Crystal scrambled to find the right words to dodge the question. "I don't think you should be eavesdropping on adult's conversations." "She said she's sorry," Jessica said. "When she was crying. She told Mommy she was very sorry."
Crystal turned away and picked up the necklaces again. "You certainly made quite a mess out of these," she said, trying not to think about what her niece was saying.
"Once, my friend Katie and I were fighting 'cause she pushed me too hard and I fell down and cut my knee and Mommy said that because Katie was sorry that I should forgive her and I did and now we're friends again. Are you gonna forgive Grandma?"
Crystal turned and looked at her. "I don't know," she said. "What happened between your grandma and I is different." Moving over to the bed, she sat down and picked up the sticker sheet that came with the make-up center. "Things between adults aren't as simple as they are between kids. Now, let's get this put together so we can get out there and get some cake and ice cream, okay?" She quickly found two pieces and connected them, hoping to distract Jessica. Looking only at the picture on the box, the young girl found the adjoining part and handed it to Crystal. "Good. See? We'll have this finished in no time."
Despite her success in getting Jessica to drop the subject, Crystal found herself unable to stop thinking about it. Sitting in the living room later, she glanced at her mother often enough that Laura noticed and gave her a questioning look. Crystal shook her head as if to say nothing was going on and stared down at her plate. For the next several minutes she concentrated on looking everywhere but at the couch where her sister and mother were sitting. She poked at the ice cream on her plate until it was nothing more than a lumpy, melted mess before setting the plate on the coffee table.
"Here, I'll get that," Patty said, rising to her feet and taking the plate. "Thomas, if you're done with yours, give me your plate, wash your hands, and then you can open the rest of your presents."
"They're clean," he protested.
"No, they're not," Patty said in that unmistakable mother tone. "Go on. Jess, yours could use some soap and water too." "I'll help clean up," Laura said as the kids took off down the hall.
Crystal thought about helping but it was clear Laura had it under control as the clutter disappeared from the coffee table and floor. She had a sense of being watched and turned her head to catch Margaret looking at her. The older woman turned away quickly but not before Crystal caught the look of sadness on her mother's face.
By the time darkness had fallen, Crystal had become progressively quiet, giving one or two word answers. She and her mother continued to sneak glances at each other, caught more often than not by Patty or Laura if not by one another. The tension was building within her and Crystal found herself struggling to control it. Questions that could only be answered by one person repeated themselves over and over in her mind, refusing to be quieted. They grew louder and louder until Crystal knew it was time to give them voice. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for what was to come and stood up, her eyes staring directly at her mother. "I want to talk to you."
The room fell deadly silent save the electronic sounds coming from Thomas' video game. Even ten year old Jessica understood to some degree the magnitude of the moment and watched the adults intently. Patty was the first to break the silence, getting to her feet and standing protectively between her mother and sister. "Crystal, can I speak to you in the kitchen for a minute?"
Laura rose as well and stood next to Crystal. "Are you sure?" she asked in a low voice.
Crystal wanted to say no, to say she reconsidered, but it was too late. Reluctantly, she nodded. Sword or olive branch, it had been extended and now there was no taking it back. "I'm sure," she said.
"Patty," Margaret said, holding out her hand. "Help me up."
"Perhaps the kitchen would be a good place to talk," Laura suggested, casting a glance in the direction of the children. "I don't think this is a good time for this, regardless of which room it's in," Patty protested as she used both hands to help steady her mother.
Clenching her jaw to keep from snapping at her sister, Crystal pushed past her and stormed into the kitchen, smacking the heel of her hand into the swinging door. Her annoyance at Patty's overprotectiveness of their mother was quickly replaced by the nervous realization of what was about to happen.
The louvered door that separated the kitchen from the living room swung open to reveal Margaret with Patty right behind her. Standing behind Patty, a concerned Laura looked in. "I want to talk to her alone," she said when Patty followed their mother into the kitchen.
"I'm staying," Patty said firmly, guiding Margaret into the nearest chair.
"No," Crystal said. "It's between us." She moved to the far side of the table, wanting to put as much distance between her and her mother as she could.
"It's okay," Margaret said to her eldest daughter. "Go be with the children."
Crystal shrugged casually at the warning look given by her sister, rebellious defiance welling within her. Patty looked as though she was going to protest again, but finally turned and entered the living room.
Unable to make out the words, Crystal heard Laura's voice, then Patty's through the closed door. Feeling the floor shake, it took a second for her to figure out the kids were running down the hall. She made a mental note to ask her lover about it later, then turned her attention to the woman across the table from her. Taking a deep breath, she raised her eyes to meet her mother's, seeing the same sad look she had witnessed earlier. The venomous words that had longed to come forth for so many years caught in her throat, refusing to come out at the moment when they could have done the most damage. "Damn you, Doc," she muttered, turning away and walking over to the window. Part of her wanted so much to lash out, to verbally rip her mother into shreds. After all, it felt good to list off every one of her mother's failings in her therapy sessions with Jenny. What was holding her back now? "Do you know how many times I wished I had never been born?" she asked, still staring out the window. "That I never had to go through the hell that was my life?" Turning around, she leveled an accusing glare at her mother. "Did it ever occur to you all those nights you sat there sucking down that whiskey that maybe your kids needed you, even just a little?"
"Crystal, I know I failed you and your sister"
"Oh, you got that right," she said, cutting her mother off. "You know what happened to me after I ran away?"
Margaret's head dropped, her eyes glistening. "Your sister told me," she said quietly.
"Did she tell you how I had to have sex with men to get enough money to eat?" Part of her took a perverse sense of pride in her mother's visible flinch but at the same time another part felt hollow, a painful emptiness that all the hateful words in the world would not cure. Kicking the chair leg with her foot, she pushed it out enough to slump onto the vinyl cushion. "I did what I had to do," she said softly. "I couldn't go back to that hell." Folding her arms in front of her, Crystal stared down at the table. "I used to dream that someday you'd take us away from him, that you'd stop drinking and be a mother like everyone else had. One that paid attention to them, that made sure they had clean clothes for school, that made dinner for them instead of making them get it themselves." Ignoring the tightening in her chest, Crystal pushed on, gazing down at nothing. "Why?" Swallowing hard, she lifted her head to look at her mother. "Why couldn't you be like the other mothers? Why couldn't you have cared about us as much as you cared about that damn whiskey?"