The Sins of the Mother

Chapter 7


When they woke up in the morning, they were in Elba. It was a small sleepy island, which was famous because Napoleon had been imprisoned there. After an early night, all the adults got up early. The young people had stayed up late watching movies, and there was no sign of them yet.

Phillip and John ate a hearty breakfast and took off in the tender to go fishing. John had a sketch pad with him, just in case. Olivia had looked for signs that Phillip was angry at her, but he appeared to be in a good mood, and kissed the top of her head before he left. She was relieved. Amanda said very little and went back to her room after breakfast. She said she had a headache, and Olivia realized that she and Phillip hadn’t exchanged a word, but that wasn’t unusual for them. Sometimes they didn’t speak to each other for hours, or pay attention to each other all day.

After breakfast Sarah waited for an opportune moment to talk to Liz. Amanda had gone to her cabin by then, to go back to bed. Olivia was reading e-mails from her office, and checking faxes, the boys had gone fishing, and the kids were still asleep. It was as good a time as any to give her sister-in-law bad news. She turned to Liz, as they sat on the lounge chairs on the deck, and she looked serious when she did.

“I read your manuscript,” she said, and then fell silent for a minute. It sounded like a drum roll to Liz. She dreaded what was coming next.

“And? What did you think?”

“Honestly?” Sarah hesitated for only a fraction of a second. “I hate to say it, but I don’t get it. It’s a children’s book, a fantasy. But kids don’t read books like that. There’s nothing real or allegorical about it. I don’t think there is anything to it that anyone will want to read.” She looked apologetic as she said it, but she was very clear.

Liz nodded, trying to fight back tears. She didn’t want Sarah to see how hurt she was. “It came straight from my heart. I was hoping it was good. It just went in a whole different direction than I usually go, and I couldn’t tell.” Now she knew. She had struck out again.

“You need to go back to what you did before,” Sarah said in her professor’s voice. It had the sound of total authority. It was the same voice that now and then reduced a student to rubble. What she said sounded written in stone. “Some of your early short stories are really good. This just isn’t. I’d like to tell you that it is, but I really can’t. You’ll embarrass yourself if you try to sell it. Your agent will throw it back at you. The concept is interesting, but the story doesn’t work. It’s like a parody of Alice in Wonderland, and the reader can’t tell if you’re kidding or nuts.”

“Nuts, I guess,” Liz said in a flat voice as Sarah handed it back to her, and at that exact moment Olivia looked up from her computer and saw her daughter’s face, and knew what had happened. She couldn’t hear what Sarah had said, but Liz looked devastated as she shoved the manuscript to the bottom of her bag as though it were a garbage can, where her manuscript belonged. It made Olivia’s heart ache seeing Liz’s face. She wanted to take her in her arms and kiss it better. Instead, she bided her time, finished her e-mails, and waited until Liz walked past her on the way to her cabin. She was going to hide the manuscript in a drawer, and destroy it when she got home. Olivia stopped her as she walked by, and patted the seat beside her.

“Can we talk for a minute?” Olivia asked her gently, and Liz smiled, with her mouth, not her eyes. Her eyes said she was devastated, and she tried to look cheerful for her mother. She didn’t want her to know how upset she was. Olivia knew her better, she was her child after all, whether she’d been an absentee mom or not. She wasn’t blind to who they were or what mattered to them.

“Sure, Mom. What about? Something wrong? Granibelle okay?”

“She’s fine. I talked to her last night. Some ninety-year-old guy moved into the apartment next to hers and she thinks he’s cute. You never know.” They both laughed at the report. But she was still beautiful and full of life, even at ninety-five. “I’m not sure exactly what Sarah said to you, but I can guess. I just saw her hand your manuscript back to you, and I want you to remember something. Sarah is a major, major intellectual snob. She’s steeped in academia, and whatever she’s published probably sold six copies to her friends. She has absolutely no idea what would sell commercially. I don’t want you to take whatever she said to heart. Show it to someone else, like your agent.”

“She said it wasn’t good enough to even show him and I would embarrass myself if I did. It’s just another one of my endless flops. Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

“I do worry about it. This is about you. I love you, but I just have an instinct here that she’s wrong. I love Louis XV furniture, and no one loves antiques more than I do. I don’t sell antiques, I sell the most commercial low-priced stuff there is, and it sells like hotcakes and has for fifty years. I’m not telling you that what you wrote is Louis XV, but that’s all Sarah knows. You may have written a terrific piece of commercial art that could be a major best seller. Sarah wouldn’t recognize that if it bit her on the ass.” Liz burst out laughing through the tears that had sprung to her eyes. “You need to ask someone who knows commercial fiction. She doesn’t.”

“She said it’s crap, in so many words.” Liz’s lip trembled, and Olivia took her hand and raised it to her lips and kissed it.

“That means you would flunk her class at Princeton. But Princeton is not the world.” She kept a tight grip on Liz’s hand. “Do you see this boat? We chartered it for a fortune, and we can afford to. We could even buy it if we wanted to, and that’s from selling decent commercial goods, not fine antiques. But what I sell looks great, people love it, and they come to our stores all over the world to buy it. Commercial literature is what sells, Liz, not the kind of stuff Sarah thinks you should write. Will you let me read it? I promise I’ll be honest with you. But I just have a feeling it might be good. You’re a smart girl, and a great writer, and I trust your instincts too, and I can tell you’re excited about it.”

“I was,” she said in a dull voice, as two tears rolled down her cheeks. “What if you tell me it’s as bad as Sarah said?”

“Then you’ll write something else. It’s not the end of the world. Listen, some of the lines of furniture I’ve designed have been pretty bad. It’s all about trial and error, and having the guts to try again.”

“That’s what I don’t have,” Liz answered honestly. “I always fail. And I’m scared to try again.”

“Try not to be. You have so much more talent than you think.” Olivia held her hand out then, for Liz to give her the manuscript, and Liz hesitated. “I want it now, please. If your literary snob of a sister-in-law can read it, so can I. Besides, I think what she said was mean. Maybe she’s jealous because she doesn’t have the imagination you do.”

“Believe me, Mom, she’s not jealous. She just thinks it stinks.”

“I’m betting that she’s wrong,” Olivia said firmly, but Liz still didn’t move. “Look, let me make this clear to you. I’m a powerful woman. People all over the world are terrified of me. So what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you doing what I say?” Liz laughed at what her mother said.

“Because you’re my mom and I love you, and I know you’re not scary, you’re just a big fake. You just pretend you’re scary.” Olivia laughed at what she said.

“Just don’t tell my competitors that. I hear they’re scared to death of me. So give me your book.” And with that, Liz finally pulled it out of her bag and handed it to her mother with a look of pain.

“If you hate it, just don’t tell me how much. We’ll throw it overboard together, or have a ceremonial book burning or something.”

“We’ll see. I’ll be honest, but polite, which is more than I can say for Sarah. I’m not sure calling someone’s book unreadable is considered good manners in the publishing world. Maybe we should discuss her wardrobe with her. She looks like she got it at Goodwill.” Liz laughed again. “And I don’t think she shaves her legs. She’s lucky your brother is crazy in love with her. A lot of men would think hairy legs and Birkenstocks with hiking shorts are not so cute. Maybe John needs his eyes checked. I’ll have to mention that to him,” Olivia said with a pensive look, and then stood up with Liz’s book in her arms.

“Thank you, Mom. It’s okay if you hate it. I kind of expect it now, it won’t come as such a shock. I was really excited about it, until I showed it to her. I thought I had done something special and unique, but I guess not.”

“Don’t be so quick to accept defeat,” Olivia scolded her. “If you believe in this book, fight for it. Don’t just lie down and give up.”

“I can’t fight for it if it’s no good.”

“How many bad reviews did Shakespeare have? Or Dickens? Victor Hugo, Baudelaire, Picasso? All great artists get bad reviews. Let’s not give this up quite so quickly. And no matter what I think, good or bad, you should still call your agent when you get back. He’s the best judge of what sells.”

“I haven’t spoken to him in three years. He’s probably forgotten who I am.”

“I doubt it—your short stories were great. You have talent, Liz. You just have to be persistent and keep at it.” And then she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “We’ll make Sarah eat her words.” She kissed Liz on the cheek then, and took the manuscript to her cabin and put it in a drawer. She didn’t want Liz changing her mind and taking it back before she had a chance to read it. She was going to read it that night, and was glad Liz had finally agreed to give it to her. Her heart ached for Liz over what Sarah had said. She had been brutal. And Olivia did wonder if she was jealous of Liz, or maybe she was such a purist that she didn’t know a piece of popular fiction when she saw it. She was far too lofty in her academic ideas. In any case, Olivia intended to see for herself. Liz was so excited about it that something told Olivia it was good.

When she went back up on deck, the young people had appeared and were having breakfast. The girls wanted to go swimming, and Alex wanted to explore the area on a jet ski. As soon as he said it, his grandmother tapped him on the shoulder with a serious expression.

“Don’t forget you owe me another ride.”

“Sure, Grandma, as soon as I finish eating.”

Olivia sat down and chatted with them, and they told her about the movies they watched the night before. Olivia had never heard of either of them, and she told them she’d have to start watching movies with them, if she wanted to be up to date. That sounded fine to them.

Sarah was reading a literary magazine, and Liz smiled at her mother over the young people’s heads. She was grateful for what her mother had said. It may not have been true, but it was kind. She was sure that Sarah was right, and her mother would probably echo her opinion. It seemed unlikely to her now that the crazy fantasy story she’d written was any good. She’d been delusional, as usual, and had failed again. It was familiar to her. Success at anything would have come as a surprise, not the reverse.

Olivia went off on the jet ski with Alex after breakfast, and she had a ball with him again. The girls and Liz swam to a nearby beach. They had a late lunch, when Phillip and John came back from fishing. And this time they had both caught several very decent-sized fish and were very pleased. The chef cooked three of them for lunch, and everyone tasted them and approved.

Olivia suggested they go ashore and explore Elba after lunch, but no one was interested. The kids lay in the sun and went swimming. Sarah and John took one of their frequent naps, and Amanda kept to herself with a book. And Phillip went fishing with one of the crew. And when the kids came back from swimming, Olivia played Scrabble with them again. She was having a great time. And while they were playing, John came back on deck, and started sketching the landscape around them. His drawings were beautiful, and he seemed lost in his own world as he did them.

They had an early dinner that night so they could get under way again. They were night-sailing to Sardinia and planned to be in port by morning. This time all the women wanted to go shopping.

And for some reason during dinner, Phillip and John started telling stories about their childhood, and Liz joined in. They talked about a trip to Disneyland they’d taken, when Olivia had been away. A house they’d rented during spring break in Aspen, a dog they’d found but the owners had reclaimed. An outrageous prank they’d played on a neighbor and been forced to apologize. The stories were funny, and one led into another, but what upset Olivia was that she had been there for none of the stories, vacations, jokes, or events. None of the stories included her, only Joe and Granibelle. It made her realize how much she’d been away and how much she’d missed, and by the end of dinner she looked genuinely sad. It had been the most powerful way to illustrate to her how badly she had failed them, and how little she’d been around. She felt terrible hearing about it now. Alex had noticed the look on her face and spoke to her in an undertone after dinner.

“Are you okay, Grandma?” He looked worried. He was a very sensitive kid, and he was very fond of his grandmother.

“I’m fine.” She didn’t want to tell him why she was upset, and he gently put an arm around her. They put some music on then, and everyone danced for a while, and then as they began to cruise again, the girls brought out a new game Olivia had never seen and they taught her to play, while Phillip and John played liar’s dice, and Sarah and Liz joined in for money. Phillip was the big winner with twenty dollars. And Olivia won a round of the new game. Amanda had gone downstairs again to read her book. John asked his brother if she was feeling well, and Phillip said she was fine, so John didn’t pursue it.

It was another fun evening, and the adults went below before the kids did, and Olivia stayed to keep them company and keep an eye on them. She didn’t want anyone falling overboard while they were under way. And finally Sophie and Carole went to watch a chick flick in the theater, and Alex stayed with his grandmother to chat for a while.

“Are you okay, Grandma?” he asked her again. They shared a tender bond, even more than she did with the girls.

“I’m fine.” She decided to be honest with him then. He was old enough to understand. “I missed a lot when my children were young. I was working all the time, and I’m sad about it now. And you can’t change history and fix your mistakes. That’s a good thing to keep in mind. It’s better to get it right the first time around, because that’s the only chance you’ve got.”

“I think you did it all right. Everyone seems fine.”

“I hope so. But they missed having their mother around. And I missed out on a lot too. Your grandfather and great-grandmother were around more than I was.”

“Yeah, but if you hadn’t done all that, we wouldn’t have all this,” he said, pointing to the boat with a grin, and she laughed.

“That’s true. But that’s not what’s important,” she reminded him.

“No,” he conceded, “but it sure is nice. I love this boat, Grandma. Thank you for taking us on it.”

“I’m having a great time too,” she said, happy that her grandson was enjoying it. They all were, and Amanda was just being herself, and enjoying it to the degree she did anything. She was not a team player, and the Graysons were a formidable team. “What about you?” Olivia asked Alex. “Are you okay? Everything the way you want it in your life?” She liked keeping in touch with him, and knowing what he cared about and what was going on. She had good talks with Sophie often too. She wasn’t quite as close to Carole, who was more flighty, and a little lost sometimes like Liz. She and Sophie had more in common.

“I’m okay,” Alex said, but he sounded half-hearted.

“But?” Olivia decided to pursue it. She loved the boy.

“I don’t know. You said you weren’t around when my dad and Phillip and Liz were kids. My parents are around all the time. They never go anywhere, except with me. But in a way, even if they’re around, they really aren’t. Some of my friends say their parents hate each other. I think mine like each other too much. They’re always sitting in a corner whispering, or kissing, or in their room ‘taking a nap.’ I know they love me, but sometimes I feel like there’s no room for me in their life, just for them. They’re so tight, there’s no space for anyone else. Sometimes I sit around at home and I have no one to talk to. At least your kids had each other. I just have me.” It was the dilemma of the only child, but more than that, Olivia understood what he was referring to. Sarah and John’s ongoing romance shut everyone else out of their world, even their son. Olivia sympathized with Alex.

“That’s a hard one. You’re lucky you have parents who like each other so much. But I can see that it would make you feel left out.” Even on the boat, they were constantly disappearing to their cabin, and it was easy to figure out what they were doing. Living in a house with them had to be lonely for Alex, and it sounded like it was. “Have you ever said anything to them about it?”

“No, it’s not going to change. They’ve always been like that, and I’m leaving for college in a year anyway. After I’m gone, they can do whatever they want. That’s why I want to go away, even though Mom wants me to stay in Princeton. I want to get out. But she’d be really upset if I told her why.” Olivia suspected that was true. “And … oh I don’t know … I’m just ready to leave and move on.” She sensed that he was going to tell her something else, but he changed his mind and didn’t.

“Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. And I don’t want you to tell them what I said.”

“I won’t. But maybe you should sometime, just so they know how you feel.”

“They only care about each other,” Alex said, sounding sad. “I wish I had a brother or sister.” It struck Olivia then as she thought about it that life was so ironic. She had been an absentee parent much of the time, so John made a point of being at home with his son all the time, but he was so crazy about his wife that they wound up shutting out their son, who was just as lonely as he might have been if they weren’t around. She realized that we’re all blind to the errors we commit, no matter how glaring they are to others, or the people we hurt when we commit them. In the end, Alex’s childhood was even lonelier than his father’s had been—at least her children had had their father and grandmother paying attention to them. Alex had no one, except two parents who were crazy about each other, to the exclusion of all else.

Alex and his grandmother talked on deck for a long time that night, as the boat motored toward Sardinia in the moonlight. The night sails seemed peaceful and beautiful to Olivia, and when Alex went to bed, Olivia went to her cabin, got into bed, and picked up Liz’s manuscript. She could hardly wait to read it.