Amazing Grace

Chapter 16

Sarah's new flat on Clay Street was in a small Victorian house that had recently been renovated and painted. It was a duplex, and was neither elegant nor pretty, but Sarah knew it would look better to her when she unpacked their things. The first room she unpacked was the children's. She wanted them to feel at home the next day when they returned. She put out their favorite possessions and treasures lovingly and slowly, afraid that something might have broken in the boxes, but nothing had. So far, everything looked okay. She spent hours unpacking books, and two hours organizing linens and beds. They had gotten rid of so many things, that their lives suddenly seemed very spare. It was still hard to believe that, thanks to Seth's incredible perfidy, everything in their lives had changed. The articles that had continued to appear in the local and national press had been humiliating beyond belief. But humiliation or not, what she needed most was a job. She had called some contacts, but needed to make an all-out effort in the next few days.
And then, while she was going through some papers for the benefit, she had an idea. It was far below her skill level, but at this point, she was going to be grateful for any job she could get. She called the head of the neonatal unit on Wednesday afternoon, while both her children were taking a nap. She had cut Parmani's hours down as much as she could, and once she found a job, she was planning to increase them again. The sweet Nepalese woman was gentle and understanding. Her heart went out to Sarah and the children, and she wanted to do everything she could to help. By then, she had read all the articles too.
The head of the neonatal ICU gave Sarah the name she wanted, and promised to put in a good word for her. In order to give him time to do that, she waited until the next morning, until she got a message from him that the call had been made. The woman's name was Karen Johnson. She was the head of development at the hospital, in charge of fund-raising on a major scale, and whatever investments the hospital made. It wasn't Wall Street, but Sarah thought it could be an interesting job, if they had a spot in the department for her. When Sarah called her, Karen gave her an appointment for Friday afternoon. She was very warm and welcoming, and thanked Sarah for the enormous contribution she'd made with the benefit for the neonatal unit. They had made well over two million dollars. It was less than she'd hoped, but still a slight improvement over the year before.
Parmani came in on Friday afternoon and took the children to the park while Sarah went to her appointment at the hospital. She was nervous about it. It was the first time in ten years that she had gone to a job interview. The last one she'd had had been on Wall Street, before she went to business school, where she met Seth. She redid her ré sumé, and included the benefits she had organized for the hospital. But she knew it would be hard to get a job, as she hadn't worked since she completed business school. Since then, she had married Seth and taken care of her children. So she was out of the business loop.
Karen Johnson was a tall, spare, gracious woman with a Louisiana accent, who was kind and interested during the interview. Sarah was candid about the reverses she'd had, Seth's indictment, the fact that they were currently separated, and that she needed employment for obvious reasons. But more important, she had the abilities they needed.
She was more than capable of handling their investment portfolio, and then suddenly she panicked, worrying that they might think she might be as dishonest as her husband. Karen saw the look of anxiety and humiliation come over her face, and correctly guessed the reason for it. She was quick to reassure her, and offered her sympathy for the problems they were having.
“It's been very difficult,” Sarah said honestly. “It came as a terrible shock …I had no idea what was going on, until the day after the earthquake.” She didn't want to go into the details of the case with her, but they'd been all over the newspapers anyway. It was no secret that Seth was going to trial for fraud, and was currently out on bail. Everyone in the country knew what he'd done, if they read the papers or listened to the news.
Karen explained to her then that she had an assistant in the department who had recently moved to L.A. There was in fact a job opening in the development department, but she was quick to say that hospitals weren't known for the salaries they paid. She mentioned a figure to Sarah, which sounded wonderful to her. It was modest, but it was something she could count on. And the hours were from nine to three. She could be home when her children woke up from their naps, and still have the afternoons and evenings with them, and weekends of course. At Karen's request, Sarah left three copies of her ré sumé with her. Karen said they would get in touch with her the following week, and thanked Sarah warmly for her interest in the position.
Sarah was excited when she left the building. She liked Karen, and the scope of the job. The hospital meant a lot to her, and the kind of investment portfolio that Karen had described was right up her alley. And she liked the prospect of fund-raising too. All she could do was hope now that she would get the job. Even the location worked well for her. The hospital was within walking distance of her new home. And the hours would give her time to spend with her children. The only drawback was the salary, which wasn't terrific, but it would have to do. And on her way home, Sarah had an idea.
She drove down to the Presidio and looked up Sister Maggie at the field hospital. She told her about the interview she'd just had at the hospital. Maggie was thrilled for her.
“That's fantastic, Sarah!” She admired her courage in the face of everything she was going through. Sarah had just told her that they had sold their house, she and Seth had separated, and she had moved into the flat on Clay Street with her children. It had only been a few days since they last talked. Things were moving fast.
“I just hope I get the job. We can really use the money.” Two months before she would never have had to say those words. They would have been inconceivable to either her or Seth. How quickly everything had changed. “I love that hospital. They saved Molly's life. That's why I do the benefit for them.” Maggie remembered Sarah's speech right before the earthquake, and Melanie's performance.
“How are you and Seth?” Maggie asked her, as they walked into the mess hall for a cup of tea. Things were a little slower at the Presidio these days. A number of the residents had been able to go home, to areas of the city that had electricity and water again.
“Not so good,” Sarah said honestly. “We hardly spoke to each other before we gave up the house. He's living in an apartment on Broadway, and ever since we moved to our new flat, Molly keeps asking me where Daddy is.”
“What do you tell her?” Maggie asked gently, as they sat down with their cups of tea. She liked talking to Sarah. She was a good woman, and Maggie was enjoying her friendship although they didn't know each other very well. But Sarah had bared her soul to her and trusted Maggie completely.
“I tell her the truth, as best I can. That Daddy isn't living with us right now. That seems to work for her. He's coming to take them out this weekend. Molly's going to spend the night with him. Oliver is too little.” She sighed then. “I promised Seth I'd be at the trial with him.”
“When is it?”
“It's set for March.” It was still a long time away, nine months. Long enough for her to have the third baby she had been hoping to start with Seth, and that now they would never have. She couldn't imagine putting their marriage back together. Not now anyway. She felt too betrayed.
“That must be stressful for you both,” Maggie commented, looking sympathetic. She was always so kind. “How are you doing with forgiveness, by the way? I know that's not a small endeavor, particularly in a case like this.”
“That's true,” Sarah said quietly. “To be honest, I don't think I'm doing so well with that. I'm so angry sometimes, and so hurt. How could he do it? We had such a wonderful life. I love him, but I just don't understand how he could do something like that, and be so dishonest. He has no integrity whatsoever.”
“Something must have gone very wrong. It was certainly a shocking error of judgment. And it sounds like he may pay a terrible price for it. Maybe that's punishment enough. And losing you and the children must be the final blow.” Sarah nodded. The problem for her was that she was paying the price too. She had lost her husband, and her children their father. But worst of all, she had lost all respect for him, and doubted she could ever trust him again. Seth knew it, and had barely dared to look her in the eye before he left. The look on her face had said it all.
“I don't mean to be hard on him. It's just such a terrible thing. He blew our whole life apart.” Maggie nodded, thinking about it. It was definitely hard to understand. Greed probably. And the need to be even more than he was. It was like some terrible character flaw in him that had surfaced, and turned into a tidal wave that had taken everyone with it. But Sarah looked better than Maggie had hoped. She almost said something to her then about her own problems, but she wouldn't even have known where to start. The big blue eyes looked into Sarah's, and the younger woman saw something deeply worried there. “Are you okay?” Sarah asked her, and then Maggie nodded.
“More or less. I have my challenges too sometimes.” She smiled. “Even nuns have nutty thoughts and do crazy things. I forget sometimes that we have the same human frailties as everyone else. Just when I think I have things all figured out, and think I have a direct channel to God, He turns the sound off, and I can't figure out what I'm doing or where I am. It reminds me of my own failings and humanity and keeps me humble,” she said cryptically, and then laughed. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm talking about.” She had been so confused lately, so tormented, but she didn't want to burden Sarah with her problems. She had enough of her own. And there was nothing to do about what was troubling Maggie. She knew it. She just had to put it out of her mind. She had promised God and herself that she would.
They walked back to the field hospital then. Sarah said goodbye to Maggie, and promised to come back and see her soon.
“Let me know if you get the job!” she called out as Sarah walked away. Sarah wondered if she'd get it. She was qualified certainly, but her luck hadn't been running strong of late. Maybe this time it would. She needed the job. No one had responded to the ré sumé's she had sent out in case the hospital job didn't pan out, although she hoped it would.
Sarah drove back to the house on Clay Street then, and was happy to see that Parmani and the children were home from the park, as she walked into the flat. Molly squealed in delight and ran to her, and Oliver crawled across the floor with a big grin for his mom. She tossed him up in the air, and sat down on the couch with him on her lap, as Molly cuddled up next to her, and Sarah realized again that whatever else had happened, the greatest blessing in her life was them. And as she started to get dinner ready, she thought about how nice it had been to see Maggie that afternoon. She wondered what the problem was that she'd been referring to. Whatever it was, she hoped it was nothing major. She was such a kind woman, and such a remarkable soul that Sarah couldn't imagine a problem she couldn't solve. She certainly helped Sarah with hers. Sometimes all it took was a willing ear and a good heart, although Sister Maggie offered far more than that. She tossed in wisdom, love, and humor too.
Melanie's ankle was still bothering her when she came back to L.A. at the beginning of September. It had been hurting for the whole two months she'd been on tour. She had gone to see a doctor in New Orleans, and another one with Tom when he visited her in New York. Both orthopedists had told her it would just take time. At her age, most things were easy to repair, but hopping on and off stages and running around the country for two months doing oneor two-night stands was hard even on her. She finally went to see her own doctor when she got back to L.A., and he said it wasn't healing as well as it should have. He told her she was working too hard. That was nothing new. She had described the tour to him, and what she did when she was on it. He had been horrified. She was still wearing the big black boot, because the ankle hadn't healed, and the boot gave her some relief and protection from further damage. The only time her ankle didn't hurt was when she wore it. Onstage, even in normal street shoes now, even flats, the ankle always killed her.
Tom was worried when she called him on her way home. “What did he say?”
“That I need a vacation, or maybe I should retire,” Melanie teased. She loved how attentive Tom was. Jake had been such a jerk. Tom wanted to know everything about her, even what her doctor had said when he ran another X-ray. “Actually,” she answered him, he says there's still a hairline crack, and if I don't take it easy, I could wind up with surgery and pins in my foot. I think I'll pick ‘take it easy.’ I don't have a lot to do right now.” Tom laughed.
“Since when do you not have a lot to do?” She had taken care of everything on her desk when she got home the day before. Melanie was always busy. And Tom worried about her.
Her mother asked her the same questions about the ankle when she got home. Melanie shared with her that the doctor said it wasn't a big deal. Unless she went on tour again, then it might be.
“It's starting to look like a big deal,” her mother said casually. “Every time I look at you, the foot is swollen. Did you tell the doctor that? You can't even wear high heels.”
Melanie looked sheepish. “I forgot.”
“So much for being grown up at twenty,” Janet added. Melanie didn't have to be completely grown up. In some ways, she was just a kid. It was part of her charm. And she had a flock of people around her to take care of her. In other ways, Melanie was far older and had matured from years of hard work and discipline in her career. She was both woman of the world, and enchanting child. Her mother would have preferred to convince her she was still a baby. It gave her all the power, but in spite of Janet's efforts, Melanie was growing up, and becoming a woman in her own right.
Melanie tried to take care of the ankle. She went to physical therapy, did the exercises they gave her, and soaked it at night. It was better, but she was afraid to wear platform shoes or high heels, and when she stood for a long time in rehearsal, it hurt. It was like a constant reminder now of the price she paid for the work she did, and that it wasn't as easy as it looked. The money, fame, and razzle-dazzle of her business didn't come easily. She had performed with a nasty injury all summer, getting on stage with it at night, traveling constantly, and having to make it look as though everything was fabulous, or at least fine, even when it wasn't. She thought about it all one night as she lay awake in bed, with her ankle hurting, and in the morning she made a call. She'd had the name and number in her wallet since she left the Presidio in May. She made an appointment for the following afternoon, went to meet him by herself, and told no one.
The man she went to see was a small rotund man with a bald head and the kindest eyes she'd ever seen, except Maggie's. They talked for a long, long time. And when Melanie drove back to the house in Hollywood, she was crying. They were tears of love, joy, and relief. She needed to find some answers now, and all of his suggestions had been good. And the questions he had asked her about her life had plunged her into ever deeper thought. She had made only one decision that day. She didn't know if she could do it, but she had promised him and herself she would try.
“Something wrong, Mel?” Tom asked her when he came to pick her up for dinner that night. They went to a sushi restaurant that they both loved. It was quiet, pretty, and the food was good. It had a serene Japanese look to it, and as Melanie looked across the table at him, she smiled.
“No, something right, I think.” She told him about the meeting she'd had that day with Father Callaghan. She said Maggie had given her his name when she said she wanted to do volunteer work. He ran two orphanages in L.A., and a mission in Mexico, and was only in L.A. part of the time. She'd been lucky to call him when she did. He was leaving the next day.
She told Tom about the work he did, mostly with abandoned children, young girls he rescued from brothels, boys who'd been selling drugs since they were seven or eight. He housed them, fed them, loved them, and turned their lives around. There was a shelter for battered women, and he was helping to build a hospital for people with AIDS. He worked with similar people in Los Angeles, but his real love was what he did in Mexico. He had been doing it for more than thirty years. Melanie had asked him what she could do to help him. She had wanted to volunteer in L.A., and thought he might ask her to write a check to help with the missions in Mexico too. Instead, he smiled at her, and invited her to come and visit there, and told her he thought it might do her a lot of good. It might give her answers she was seeking and had talked to him about, in her own life. She had everything in the world to be thankful for, she told him, success, fame, money, good friends, adoring fans, a mother who did everything for her, whether she wanted her to or not, and a boyfriend who was wonderful to her, a really good person whom she loved.
“So why am I so unhappy?” she had asked the priest, with tears running down her cheeks in rivers. “I hate what I do sometimes. I feel like everyone owns me, except me, and I have to do everything they want, for them … and this stupid ankle has been killing me for three months. I worked on it all summer, and now I can't get it better. My mom is mad at me because I can't wear heels on stage and she says it looks like shit.” It was all jumbled in her head as it came tumbling out like building blocks from a child's dump truck. Her thoughts were scattered all over the place. She could identify them, almost, but she couldn't make sense out of them, or make anything useful out of her concerns. He handed her a couple of tissues, and she blew her nose.
“What do you want, Melanie?” Father Callaghan asked her gently. “Never mind what everyone else wants. Your mom, your agent, your boyfriend. What does Melanie want?”
Before she could stop them, the words blurted out, “I want to be a nurse when I grow up.”
“I wanted to be a fireman, and I wound up being a priest instead. Sometimes we take other paths than the ones we expected to take.” He told her he had studied to be an architect, before going into the priesthood, which he found useful in the buildings they were putting up in the Mexican villages where he now worked. He didn't tell her he had a Ph.D. in clinical psychology that was even more useful to him, even in his dealings with her. He was a Franciscan, which worked well in his chosen line of work, but he had toyed with the idea of being a Jesuit. He loved the intellectual side of his Jesuit brothers, and enjoyed heated debates with them whenever the opportunity arose. “You have a wonderful career, Melanie. You've been blessed. You have a tremendous talent, and I get the feeling you enjoy your work, some of the time anyway, when you're not performing on a broken ankle, and no one is exploiting you.” In her own way, she was no different than the girls he rescued from brothels in Mexico. Too many people had been using her. They just paid her better for it, and the costumes were more expensive. But he could sense that everyone, including her mother, was pumping her to do their bidding, until the well ran dry. It had started to run dry for Melanie on her last concert tour, and all she wanted now was to run away and hide. She wanted to help others, and get in touch with what she'd experienced in the Presidio after the earthquake. It had been a time of epiphany and transformation for her, and then she had to go back to real life.
“What if you could do both? Do the work you love to do, when it's not overwhelming, maybe even on your terms. Maybe you need to take some of that control away from others. You can take some time to think about that. And take some time out of your life to help others, people who really need you, like the earthquake survivors you helped with Sister Maggie. Maybe the balance in your life would make more sense then. You have a lot to give people, Melanie. And you'd be amazed at what they'll give you back.” Right now, no one was giving her anything, except Tom. She was being bled dry.
“You mean like work with you here in L.A., or in your mission in Mexico?” She couldn't imagine being able to find the time. Her mother always had plans for her, interviews, rehearsals, recording sessions, concerts, benefits, special appearances. Her life and time were never her own.
“Possibly. If that's what you want. Don't do it to please me. You make a lot of people happy as it is, with your music. I want you to think about what would make you happy. It's your turn, Melanie. All you have to do is get in line, step up to the booth, and get your ticket. It's waiting for you. No one can take that away from you. You don't have to get on the rides everyone else wants you on. Get your ticket, pick your ride, and have a little fun here for a change. Life is a lot more fun than you're allowing it to be. And no one should take that ticket away from you. It's not their turn, Melanie. It's yours.” He was smiling at her, and as she listened to him, she knew.
“I want to go to Mexico with you,” she said in a whisper. She knew she had no major engagements for the next three weeks. She had a few interviews lined up, a photo shoot for a fashion magazine. She was recording in September and October, and was scheduled to do a benefit sometime after that. But none of them were things that couldn't be changed or canceled. All of a sudden, she knew she had to get away, and it might do her ankle good to stop working for a while, instead of trying to hobble around in high heels to make her mother happy. Suddenly, it was all too much. And he was offering her a way out. She wanted to take that right he was talking about. She had never done what she wanted in her whole life. She did what her mother told her, and what everyone expected her to do. She had always been the perfect little girl, and now she was sick of it. She was twenty years old and wanted to do something that meant a lot to her for a change. She had a feeling this was it. “Could I stay at one of the missions for a while?” Melanie asked him, and he nodded.
“You can live in our home for teenage girls. Most of them have been prostitutes and drug addicts. You wouldn't know it to look at them, they look like angels now. But your being there might do them a world of good. And you too.”
“How do I get hold of you when you're down there?” she asked, feeling breathless. Her mother was going to kill her if she did this. Although who knew, she'd probably try to turn it into a golden press opportunity. She always did.
“My cell phone works, and I'll give you some numbers,” he said, jotting them down. “If it doesn't work for you to come down now, it might be easier for you in a few months, like next spring. This is pretty short notice in a life like yours. I'll be there till after Christmas, so come whenever you want, and stay as long as you feel like it. Whenever you show up, Melanie, we'll have a bed for you.”
“I'm coming,” she said with a look of determination, realizing that things had to change. She couldn't keep her mother happy forever. She needed to make her own decisions too. She was tired of living her mom's dreams, or being her dream. She needed her own. And this was a good place to start.
She was deeply pensive when she left the meeting. Father Callaghan hugged her, and then made the sign of the cross on her forehead with his thumb. “Take care of yourself, Melanie. I hope we see you down there. If not, I'll catch up with you when I get back. Stay in touch.”
“I will,” she promised, and she thought about it all the way home. She knew what she wanted to do, she just didn't know how to pull it off, even for a few days. But she wanted to go for longer than that. Maybe even a few months.
She told Tom all about it over their sushi dinner. He looked impressed and stunned, and then just as quickly, worried.
“You're not going to join a convent, are you?” She saw panic in his eyes and, as she shook her head and laughed, relief.
“No, I'm not. I'm not a good enough person to do that. Besides, I'd miss you too much.” She reached out across the table and took his hand in hers. “I'd just like to do this for a while, help some people, clear my head, get out from under the pressure of all my obligations. I don't know if they'd let me, and my mom will have a fit. I just feel like I need to get away, and figure out what's important to me, other than my work and you. Father Callaghan says I don't need to give up my career to help other people, he says I give people hope and joy with my music. But I just want to do something more real for a while, like in the Presidio.”
“I think it's a great idea,” Tom seconded it. Ever since she'd gotten back from her tour, Melanie looked drained, and he knew her ankle was still hurting her a lot. It was no wonder after running around on it for three months, and dancing around on stage, taking pills at night, and cortisone shots like football players trying to fool their bodies into thinking they weren't injured and could play. Tom had learned a lot about the pressures she lived with, and the heavy dues she paid for her fame. It looked like too much to him, and he thought her going to Mexico for a while sounded like just what she needed, for her soul as well as her body. What her mother would say about it was another thing. He was coming to know Janet well, and how she controlled everything in Melanie's life. She tolerated him now, and even liked him at times, but Janet always kept her daughter on a very, very short leash. She wanted Melanie to be a puppet, while she pulled all the strings. Anything that interfered with that had to be disposed of immediately. Tom was careful not to cross her, or to challenge her overwhelming influence on Melanie's life. He didn't think it could last forever. But he also knew that if Melanie challenged her mother's control now, Janet would go insane. She wanted to give up that power to no one, least of all to Melanie herself. And Melanie knew it too.
“I think I'll set it up first, and talk to her about it after I do. So she can't stop me. I have to see if my agent can get me out of some stuff, and my manager, without letting her know. She wants me to do everything, as long as it gets national press, major publicity, and I'm on the cover of whatever it is. She means well, she just doesn't understand that sometimes it's too much. I can't complain, she really made my career happen. She's had all this in her head since I was a little kid. I just don't want all of it as much as she does. I want to pick and choose, not get buried by all the shit she makes me do. And there's a lot of it!” She grinned at Tom. He knew Melanie was telling the truth. He had seen it at close range since May. Just keeping track of what she did exhausted him. And he had as much energy as she did. But he hadn't broken his ankle performing in Vegas. That had taken a toll too. It all had. Melanie had been looking exhausted, and now suddenly she had come alive again after her meeting with the priest.
“Would you come down and visit me in Mexico?” she asked Tom hopefully, and he smiled as he nodded.
“Of course I will. I'm so proud of you, Mellie. I think you'd love it, if you can pull it off.” They both knew her mother would be a fearsome opponent, and deeply threatened by any sign of independence from her daughter. This was going to be tough on Melanie. It was going to be the first time she had made a major decision on her own. And this was a big one, particularly since it had nothing to do with her career. That would frighten Janet even more. She didn't want Melanie distracted from her goals or, more important, her mother's goals. Melanie was not supposed to have her own dreams, only her mother's. That was changing. And change was going to scare her mother. Big time.
They talked about it on the way home. Janet was out when they got there, and they discreetly went to Melanie's bedroom and locked the door. They made love, cuddled up in bed afterward, and watched movies on TV. Her mother didn't mind his spending the night occasionally, although she didn't want anyone moving in, for herself or her daughter. As long as whatever guy in question didn't get too cocky, or have too much influence over Melanie, Janet was willing to tolerate his existence. Tom was smart enough to be discreet, and never face off with her.
In the end, he decided to go home around two in the morning, so he could get to work early the next day. Melanie was asleep when he left, but before she drifted off, he told her he'd be going. She smiled sleepily and kissed him. She woke up early the next day, and started making calls to further advance her project. She swore her agent and manager to secrecy, and both said they'd see what they could do to get her out of the commitments she had, most or all of them made by her mother. They both warned her that her mother would hear about it fairly soon, one way or the other. Melanie said she was going to talk to her about it, but only after she canceled her commitments, so there was nothing Janet could do. Her manager told her that her stay in Mexico would be a great press opportunity for her, if she was willing to exploit the trip a little.
“No!” Melanie said firmly. “That's the whole point. I need to get away from all that bullshit. I need some time to figure out who I am and what I want to do.”
“Oh Jesus, not one of those trips. You're not thinking about retiring, are you?” her agent asked. Janet would kill them all if that happened. She was a decent woman at heart, she just wanted her daughter's career to be the biggest thing since the birth of Jesus. She loved Melanie, but she was living vicariously through her. Her agent had thought it was a good thing that Melanie was trying to cut the umbilical cord a little. It had to happen sooner or later, and it was healthy for her. He had seen it coming. The problem was that Janet didn't, and she was guarding that umbilical cord with her life. No one was going to touch it. And only Melanie had that right. “How long are you thinking?”
“Maybe till Christmas. I know we have the concert in Madison Square Garden on New Year's Eve. I don't want to cancel that.”
“That's a good thing,” he said, sounding relieved. “I probably would have had to slit my wrists on that one. Till then, it's all pretty minor stuff. I'll get on it,” he promised.
Two days later, both her agent and her manager had done what they had said they'd do. Melanie was free and clear until two weeks after Thanksgiving. Some of it had been rescheduled, and other things just had to be canceled, to be addressed at some distant, later date, if ever. None of it was a big deal. This had been the perfect time to do it. All she'd be missing were the press opportunities that came up at parties and benefits she'd be invited to. And there was no way to predict those. Janet liked her to do them all. And Melanie always did. Until now.
As expected, Janet wandered into Melanie's room two days after all of her engagements had been canceled. No one had said anything to her yet, and Melanie had told Tom she was going to tell her mother that night. She was planning to leave the following Monday and had already made her reservations. She wanted to spend the weekend with Tom before she left. He was a hundred percent behind her. And he was planning to come down to visit her when he could. He was excited about what she was doing and wanted to volunteer some time too. He had a strong urge to help his fellow man, as she did, and wanted to balance a serious career with the humanitarian traditions that he firmly believed in.
Three months wasn't a long time to be apart, but he said he would miss her. What they had was solid and good, and could withstand the distraction of their respective obligations. Their relationship was going full speed ahead, and was turning into a great thing for both of them. They were kind, compassionate, intelligent, and supportive. They couldn't believe their good luck in having found each other. In many ways, they were so much alike and inspired each other in constructive ways. Together, their world had grown. Tom was even thinking of taking a week or two off himself, and volunteering at one of the Mexican missions with her, if they gave him the time off work. He loved working with kids, and in high school had been a Big Brother to a boy in Watts, and another in East L.A., and was still in touch with both. This was just his kind of thing. As a kid, he had dreamed of joining the Peace Corps, and had later chosen a career path instead. But now he envied what she'd be doing in Mexico, and wished he could spend three months there himself.
“That's weird,” Janet muttered to her, glancing at a stack of papers in her hand. “I just got a fax that says your interview with Teen Vogue was canceled. How did they manage to screw that up?” She shook her head and glanced at her daughter, looking annoyed. “And I got an e-mail this morning from the colon cancer benefit, saying they hope you can do it for them next year. That was in two weeks. It sounds like they dumped you for someone else. They said Sharon Osbourne is going to do it. Maybe they thought you were too young. Anyway, you'd better get out there and shake your booty, girl. You know what all that means? It means they're starting to forget you, and you were only on the road for just over two months. Time to show your face and get some press.” She smiled at Melanie, lying on her bed and watching TV. Melanie had been thinking about what she had to pack for her trip to Mexico. Not much. And she had half a dozen books on her bed, about Mexico, which miraculously escaped her mother's notice. She glanced up at her mother, and wondered if this was the time to tell her. It wasn't going to be easy, she knew, whenever she did. The proverbial shit was going to hit the fan.
“Uh … actually, Mom,” Melanie spoke up just as her mother was about to leave the room, “I canceled those two things … and some others … I'm kind of tired …I thought I'd go away for a few weeks.” She had been debating about telling her mother up front how long she was going to be away, or letting her know as time went on. She had not yet figured that out. But she had to tell her something, since she was about to leave. Janet stopped in her tracks and turned to frown as Melanie lay on her pink satin bed.
“What's that all about, Mel? What do you mean, you're ‘going away for a few weeks'?” She looked at her as though Melanie had said she had just grown horns or wings.
“Well, you know … my ankle … it's really been bothering me …I just thought … you know … it might be good to get away.”
“You canceled commitments without asking me?” Melanie could see that the fan was speeding up. The shit was near.
“I was going to talk to you about it, Mom, but I didn't want to bother you. The doctor said I should stay off my feet.”
“Is this Tom's idea?” Her mother was now glaring at her, trying to figure out where the evil influence had come from that had led Melanie to cancel two engagements without consulting her first. She smelled heavy interference.
“No, Mom, it isn't. It's just something I want to do. I'm tired after the tour. I didn't want to do that benefit, and I can do Teen Vogue anytime I want. They ask us all the time.”
“That's not the point, Melanie,” her mother said as she approached the bed with fury in her eyes. “You don't cancel commitments. You talk to me, and I do. And you can't just disappear off the face of the earth because you're tired. You have to keep your face out there.”
“My face is on a million CD covers, Mom. No one's going to forget me if I'm gone for a few weeks, or don't do a colon cancer benefit. I just need some time to myself.”
“What the hell is that all about? This has to be Tom's doing. I see that kid lurking around. He probably wants you all to himself. He's jealous of you. He doesn't understand, and neither do you, what it takes to make a major career and keep you right up there on top. You can't lie around, f*cking around and watching TV, or with your nose in a bunch of books. You need to be out there, Mel. And I don't know where you think you're going for a few weeks, but you can cancel that plan right now. When I think you need to get away, I'll tell you. You're fine. Now get off your dead ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself with that ankle. It's just a small crack, for chrissake. And that was almost four months ago. Get up and get moving, Mel. I'll call Teen Vogue and set the interview up again. I'll leave the benefit alone, because I don't want to piss off Sharon. But don't you ever cancel any of your commitments again! Do you hear me?” She was trembling with rage, and Melanie with terror. She felt sick listening to her mother. It was all there. Janet thought she owned her. Whatever her intentions, good or bad, Melanie knew that her mother's constant control would ruin her life, if she continued to allow it.
“I hear you, Mom,” she said quietly, “and I'm sorry you feel that way. But this is something I need to do for myself.” She bit the bullet then and jumped into the deep end. “I'm going to Mexico till after Thanksgiving. I'm leaving Monday.” She almost winced as she said it, but managed not to. This was the worst it had ever been, although they'd had some major run-ins, whenever Melanie tried to make her own decisions or exercise some independence.
“You're WHAT? Are you insane? You have a million bookings from now till then. You're not going anywhere, Melanie, unless I tell you to. Don't you dare tell me what you're going to do. Let's not forget who put you on top here.” Her voice had, with her mother's help, but it was a cruel thing to say, and Melanie felt it like a blow. This was the first time she had stood up to her mother in just this way. And it was anything but pretty. Melanie wanted to crawl under her covers and cry, but she didn't. She held her ground. She knew she had to. And what she was doing wasn't wrong. She refused to let her mother make her feel guilty for wanting some time off.
“I canceled the other bookings, Mom,” she said honestly.
“Who did that?”
“I did.” She didn't want to get her agent and manager in trouble, so she took the blame. She had told them to do it, which was what mattered. “I need this time away, Mom. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but it's important to me.”
“Who's going with you?” She was still looking for the culprit, the person who had stolen her power from her. But in fact, only time had. Melanie had finally grown up and wanted at least some control of her own life. It had been a long time coming. And maybe Tom's love had helped her.
“No one. I'm going alone, Mom. I'm going to work in a Catholic mission that takes care of children. It's something I want to do. I promise I'll come back and work my ass off when I get home. Just let me do this without going crazy.”
“I'm not going crazy. You are,” Janet shouted at her. Melanie hadn't raised her voice once, out of respect for her mother. “We can turn it into a press opportunity if you want to do it for a few days,” she said hopefully, “but you can't go running off to Mexico for three months. For chrissake, Melanie, what were you thinking?” And then she thought of something else. “Is that little nun in San Francisco behind this? She looked like a sneaky little piece of work to me. Watch out for that type, Melanie. She'll have you joining a convent next. And you can tell her that if that's what she has in mind, it'll be over my dead body!” Melanie smiled at the mention of Maggie, however rude.
“No, I went to see a priest here.” She didn't tell her the connection was through Maggie. “He runs this great mission in Mexico. I just want to go there, have some peace, and then I can come back and work as hard as you want. I promise.”
“You make it sound like I'm abusing you,” her mother said, bursting into tears as she sat down on her daughter's bed and Melanie put her arms around her.
“I love you, Mom. I appreciate everything you've done for my career. I just want something more than that in my life now.”
“It's the earthquake,” Janet said, shaking as she sobbed. “You have post-traumatic stress. God, that would make such a good story in People, wouldn't it?” Melanie laughed as she looked at her. Her mother was a caricature of herself. Her heart was in the right place, but all she thought about was publicity for Melanie, and how to make her career even bigger than it was, which would have been hard to do. She had already done everything she had set out to accomplish, but her mother still couldn't let go, and have her own life. That was the essence of the problem. She wanted to live Melanie's life, not her own.
“You should go away somewhere too, Mom. A spa or something. Or London with some of your friends, or Paris. You can't think about me all the time. It's not healthy. For either of us.”
“I love you,” Janet wailed. “You don't know what I gave up for you…I could have had a career, I gave it to you … all I've ever done is what I thought was best for you.” It was a two-hour speech, which Melanie had heard too often and tried to head off at the pass this time.
“I know, Mom. I love you too. Just let me do this. I'll be good after that, I promise. But you have to let me figure things out for myself, and make my own decisions. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm twenty.”
“You're a baby,” Janet said angrily, mortally threatened.
“I'm a grown-up,” Melanie said firmly.
Janet spent the next few days alternately crying, complaining, and accusing. She bounced between grief and rage. She could feel the early signs of power slipping from her, and she was totally panicked. She even tried to get Tom to talk Melanie out of her plan, and he diplomatically said he thought it might do her good and thought it was noble of her, which only enraged Janet further. It was a nightmarish few days around their house, and Melanie could hardly wait to leave on Monday. After spending the weekend with him at her own house, she spent the last night at Tom's apartment, just to get away from her mother, and only went back to her own home at three A.M., to sleep before she left for the airport the following morning at ten. Tom had taken the morning off to drive her. She didn't want to leave in a white stretch limousine and attract attention, which her mother would have insisted on, if she'd had her way. She probably would have called the press and leaked the story, and might still anyway.
The scene with her mother as she left was out of a bad soap opera, with her mother clutching her and crying, saying she would probably be dead when Melanie got back, since she had been having chest pains ever since Melanie told her she was leaving. Melanie told her she'd be fine, promised to call her often, left all the pertinent phone numbers, and ran out the door to Tom's car, with a backpack and a duffel bag. It was all she was taking with her. She looked like she was escaping from prison as she slid into the car beside him.
“Go!” she shouted at him. “Go! Go! Go! Before she runs out and throws herself on the hood of the car.” He took off, and they were both laughing as they reached the first stoplight. It felt like a getaway car to both of them, and it was. Melanie almost felt high at the prospect of leaving and what she'd be doing when she got to Mexico.
Tom kissed her when he left her at the airport, and she promised to call him when she arrived. He was planning to come down in two or three weeks. But in the meantime, Melanie knew she would have lots of new adventures. Her three-month sabbatical in Mexico was just what the doctor ordered.
She was sitting on the plane, just before the doors closed, when she decided to call her mother. She was getting to do what she wanted, and she knew it was hard for Janet. Melanie knew it felt like a huge loss to her. Losing her control over Melanie to any degree was frightening for her, and Melanie felt sorry for her.
Janet answered at the house, and sounded depressed. She brightened noticeably when she heard her daughter's voice.
“Did you change your mind?” she asked, sounding hopeful, and Melanie smiled.
“No. I'm on the plane. I just wanted to give you a kiss. I'll call you from Mexico, when I can.” They made the announcement then to turn off all cell phones, and she told her mother she had to get off. Her mother sounded tearful for a moment.
“I still don't understand why you're doing this.” It felt like punishment to her, and rejection. It was much more than that to Melanie. It was a chance to do some good in the world.
“I just need to, Mom. I'll be back soon. Take care. I love you, Mom,” Melanie said as a flight attendant reminded her to turn off her phone. “I gotta go.”
“I love you, Mel,” her mother said hastily, as with a last kiss, Melanie turned off her phone. She was glad she had called. This trip had nothing to do with hurting her mother. It was something she needed to do for herself. She needed to discover who she was, and if she could exist on her own.