"You know perfectly well your father and I haven’t the faintest desire to run your life. If we had, we’d have started long ago". Her mother paused, looking at Erica, one hand absently turning a pencil by hitting first one end and then the other against the desk and sliding it through her fingers.
She was on the point of saying something else when Erica broke in suddenly, "Mother…"
"Yes?"
"Do you remember what Miriam said about Charles not wanting a son-in-law at all if it was a question of my getting married?"
"A lot of what Miriam says is pure nonsense".
"Is it?" She herself had not taken the idea very seriously until now, but she had been listening to her mother for the past few minutes with a growing feeling that something was wrong somewhere, for while her father was as prejudiced as her mother on the subject of Jews, at the same time, he was a great deal less conventional. He could not possibly be as concerned with the purely social aspect of the problem, since he was such a thorough-going individualist, so that, strictly speaking, he actually had fewer reasons for objecting-unless there was another motive still unaccounted for.
Erica said at last, "I’m not so sure that Charles doesn’t want to run my life, and I’m beginning to wonder if he ever will want me to marry anyone".
To Erica’s surprise, her mother answered calmly, "I doubt if Charles will ever think anyone is really good enough for you, if that’s what you mean, but Marc Reiser is hardly a fair example. After all, what matters most to your father is your happiness, and no one in his senses could possibly imagine that you and Marc have even a reasonable chance of being happy. There’s too much against you". She glanced at Erica and then went on in a different tone, "There’ll be someone else, Eric-someone who’ll really belong and who’ll mean far more to you than Marc Reiser ever could and who wouldn’t put you into an impossible position simply by marrying you".
"Marc has never said anything about marrying me. He’s never even said anything about being in love with me". Although she knew it was useless, because her mother’s theories on the subject of Marc Reiser were so wildly at variance with the facts that they were literally discussing two different people, one real and one imaginary, she added, "You keep forgetting that the person who’s going to take the most convincing is Marc, not me-or you and Charles".
"Then just what does Mr. Reiser think he’s doing at the moment?" inquired her mother.
"Maybe, like Miriam, he doesn’t think, he just hopes".
"Really, Erica", said her mother, exasperated.
Erica picked up her lipstick and said as she unscrewed the cap, "As for there being ’someone else,’ the only answer to that is that I’m in love with Marc".
Her mother said nothing but went on silently turning the pencil through her fingers.
"I can understand why you and Charles feel the way you do and why it would be hell for either of you to be married to a Jew, in the world in which you’ve lived, but I’m not you and your world isn’t the same as mine, and what I simply cannot see is how you can expect me to feel the same way. One of the things which seems to appall Charles most is the fact that if I married Marc, my husband could not be admitted to his club. I don’t care about clubs!"
She got up, took the green and white print dress which was lying on her bed and as she pulled it over her head, Erica asked suddenly, "What did you mean when you said that you couldn’t do anything with Charles? You agree with him, don’t you?"
"Yes, so far as your marrying Marc Reiser is concerned. Yes, I know", she said impatiently as Erica’s head appeared and she saw that her daughter was about to protest again, "but neither of us has ever seen you so worked up about anyone else, you’re obviously not yourself and there’s no telling what may happen or what you’re likely to do in this state", she added, her face drawn with anxiety. "You’re in love with him, or you think you are, and you’ve said absolutely nothing to give us any grounds for thinking that you wouldn’t marry him, or that you even realize what you’d be letting yourself in for".
"Listen, Mother", said Erica, staring at her. "The first night I ever went out with Marc, he asked me where I wanted to go and I suggested a restaurant over on the Back River. It’s quite a long drive to the Back River, and when we finally got there, there was a sign on the gate saying ’Select Clientele’."
In a voice of sheer despair her mother said, "And you expect us to help you and treat Marc Reiser as though he were anybody else, when all he has to offer you is that sort of thing for the rest of your life!"
"I only told you that to make you see that I do know what I’d be letting myself in for, and so does Marc. The second time I saw him he said it was better to be on one side or the other than out in the middle where you get it both ways…".
"Then why doesn’t he leave you alone…".
"I don’t want to be left alone", said Erica after a moment’s silence. She realized now that to have expected her mother and father to treat Marc as though he were anyone else was to have expected them not only to change character but to alter their scale of values, which was obviously out of the question and far more than she herself was capable of doing, even supposing she had been willing to try. They were not to be blamed for doing everything in their power to shield their daughter against even the possibility of a lifetime out in the middle and for acting in what, in all sincerity, they conceived to be her best interests.
It was a complete deadlock.
Her mother went on at last with a visible effort, "What I don’t agree with is the way Charles is going about it. This is your home, and although I can’t imagine your father and me and Marc Reiser having much to say to each other", she observed with a slightly different expression, "whether we happen to care for him or not, he is a friend of yours and you should be able to invite him here. You might just as well be living in a boardinghouse…" she said, and broke off, remembering that she had said it before in another connection altogether. Then, because Margaret Drake was nothing if not honest, she made herself go on. She said wearily, "Well, it’s true, and certainly that part of it is not your fault".
Erica was standing by the window, so that her mother had to turn her head toward the light in order to look at her. The long rays of the sun drove straight into her mother’s face, and for the first time, Erica could see how tired she was. She was tired out.
In spite of everything Margaret Drake had been saying, Erica knew that left to herself, she would have followed a different course. She would have said what she thought, but having done that, she would not only have invited Marc to the house but she would have done her utmost to regard him objectively and to be fair to both Marc and her daughter.
Erica said suddenly, "It’s Charles who’s behind all this! It’s our fault, not yours. Why should you have to be dragged into it?" she asked desperately. "You can’t do anything, you’re just caught…".
"I can’t stop unless you do, darling", said her mother, smiling faintly. "I can’t help being dragged into something that concerns both my husband and my daughter. You’re such a baby in some ways, Eric".
A moment later she remarked, "I always wondered what would happen if you and Charles came up against each other. I don’t understand you as well as he does, and I don’t understand him the way you do, but I couldn’t just sit by and watch you killing the best in each of you, even if I weren’t involved in it myself. Your relationship with your father was a very fine thing, Eric", she said, glancing at Erica and then back to the window again. "There’s one side of him which you’ve been able to bring out, but which I’ve scarcely been able to touch since we were first married".