Fall 2002 Charles River Review: The Other Side

Kimberly She stared out the window into the backyard as she washed the dishes from lunch. She had always held mixed feelings for the window. On one hand, she appreciated the view of the small plot of land that belonged to the house--she had liked being able to watch her son David grow up and move from sandbox to swingset to throwing a ball with his friends to smoking those cigarettes he never realized she knew about. But there was something taunting in the way the glass blocked her from the yard, while simultaneously showing her what she was missing. She always swore that the window made the grass greener, the sky bluer, and the world more peaceful. She knew that the moment she stepped out onto her back patio, she'd be able to hear the other children in the other yards yelling, the sounds of phones ringing and cars passing. She would notice the crab grass and dandelions, and realize that her small attempt at a flower garden contained more weeds than flowers. There was as much work to be done outside as there was inside. Ever since David had reached the age when he took her watchful eye as a personal affront, she had rarely ventured into the backyard or paid it much heed. Even now she stared out at the branches of the dogwood tree without really seeing them.

She remembered David playing with his friend in that tree. They had been chasing each other around its base. She had been busy washing empty glasses of milk, enjoying the feel of the afternoon breeze blowing through the opened window. When she glanced out, David and his friend were trying to climb the tree's branches. She knew this was David's favorite challenge--who could reach the top first--and that he often practiced by himself to make sure he always knew the best route. She looked out again when David yelled in triumph. His friend hadn't gotten very far, and it was clear he wanted to call the game off. David whooped, and then there was a frozen minute of silence. She swore the bile rose up in her throat before he even showed signs of falling. She remembered gripping the edge of the sink as David's small body dropped from one of the higher branches. She didn't scream when he hit the ground, but she heard the thud of his body meet the earth as if he had fallen at her feet. She had run out the back door even before David had started crying. She had kissed his face and smoothed back his hair, all the while making sure not to move him. He had been all right--only a broken arm and a few scrapes and bruises--but he never climbed that tree again.

"Dear, what's your name?"

She sighed as she watched the scene of her holding David under the tree disappear.

"My name's Gwen, Mother. Don't you remember?" She knew her mother-in-law didn't. The question had become a bitter complaint over the past two years since she moved in.

"Gwen? That's a pretty name. Is it short for Gwendolyn?"

"No, Mother. It's just Gwen. Plain Gwen."

Gwen turned to her mother-in-law, who was seated at the kitchen table. She had a child-like smile on her face and no recognition in her eyes. Gwen wondered what sound her mother-in-law would make if she fell from a tree. Would it be loud? Would Gwen be able to hear each brittle bone break? She couldn't imagine hearing anything, but she was sure it would be final. Gwen took a long breath in and turned back to the sink. She placed the glass she had been clenching onto the drying rack and stared at it for a short moment. Just that morning, her husband, Dan, had told her about his upcoming business trip to Chicago--mentioned it in between gulps of orange juice as she buttered her morning toast. He was leaving on a Wednesday, returning the following Tuesday. "It's perfect timing too. There's a neurologist there who's made a lot of advances in the field. I've already made an appointment to talk to him about Mom." Dan hadn't understood why Gwen had looked away in silence. He asked her to mark the dates on the calendar, kissed her on top of her forehead, and then left for work. She had written "Dan in Chicago" across the days of his trip and above the penciled, "Gwen's birthday." She had wanted to go to New York that weekend, visit David, do something other than go out to Regina's for calamari and chicken parmesan.

Gwen grabbed the glass she had just set down to dry and filled it with water. She drank it quickly, hoping it would fill the emptiness in her stomach. After placing the glass back on the rack, she looked over at her mother-in-law.

"Should we see what's on TV, Mother?"

"Oh! You have a television set? You must be very lucky. We almost got one once, but Ed always said there were better things to spend our money on. We had to feed all those boys, you know. You can't imagine how much they eat!"

Gwen helped her mother-in-law out of her chair and held her arm as they walked the few steps into the family room, where she helped her settle into the armchair that Dan had favored before it began to smell of his mother's aged body.

"Thank you, dear. That's very kind of you. I guess this body of mine isn't what it used to be." Her mother-in-law's smile spoke more of confusion than gratitude. It was a smile Gwen had seen countless times before, one that used to encourage a protective sympathy in her.

"This is a nice room. Is this your house? Look at all this space! There never seemed to be enough space with all those boys running around. Ed used to say that we could get the biggest house in the whole town, and there still wouldn't be enough space. Of course, we couldn't afford much, but we got by fine. Just fine."

Gwen turned on the television, changing it to a program she preferred. Her mother-in-law wouldn't be able to follow what was going on anyway and would end up staring off into a world only she could see.

"Oh! A television set! You must be very lucky, especially to have one so big! We almost got one once, but Ed always said there were better things to spend our money on. We had to feed those boys, you know. They eat so much!"

Gwen turned away from her mother-in-law and began dusting and cleaning. She had always thought that the seventh wonder of the world was a messy house. It seemed no matter how often she cleaned--no matter how many things she straightened, picked up off the floor, put away--the next day there was always a new layer of dust, and her husband's glasses, dirty socks, and papers reappeared, just in different places. She looked down at the floor and realized she had procrastinated long enough. The rug needed to be vacuumed; the wood floor needed to be mopped.

Gwen climbed the stairs to the second floor to look for the vacuum cleaner. She paused in the doorway of David's old room. She remembered sitting by his bed and taking his temperature when he was sick and pulling up a chair to his desk to help him with math problems. How many years ago was that? David had long since gone to college, graduated, and moved to New York City. She couldn't suppress the feeling that while her son had grown and moved on, she had remained behind. She had a hard time imagining herself outside of the house. Gwen had tried to explain this once to her husband, but it had come out wrong and Dan misunderstood. "If you need to get out of the house, Gwen, I'm sure we can find a service that provides trained nurses who can watch my mom for a few hours."

Gwen moved downstairs and continued her search for the vacuum. As she passed the family room, she paused, about to ask her mother-in-law if she had seen it. Realizing the irony of the situation, Gwen laughed and shook her head. She went in and picked up the copy of Reader's Digest that was lying on the coffee table. Her mother-in-law loved the magazine, even though she wasn't able to read any story through anymore. Gwen suspected it was more comforting than interesting. She looked at the worn pages and the picture of the boy holding a puppy on the front. It was an old copy, but the cover always delighted her mother-in-law. Gwen traced the lines of the little boy's face and wondered at being able to experience that feeling of renewed joy each time she looked at something. She placed the magazine on her mother-in-law's lap.

"Oh, thank you, dear. What is this? Well, would you look at that! For a moment there I thought that was one of my boys. Look at that smile! We never had a dog, of course--Ed was allergic--but I could swear that young boy was one of my own! Isn't he just precious."

"Yes, he is, Mom." Gwen smiled and rested her hand on her mother-in-law's shoulder. The doorbell rang, startling both Gwen and her mother-in-law. Gwen opened the front door and found her neighbor standing on the porch, holding a stack of flyers.

"Gwen! Hello!"

"Hello, Linda, want to come in?"

"Oh sure, but only for a few minutes. I have a lot of houses to hit before Eric gets home from school."

Gwen led Linda through the family room toward the kitchen. Linda stopped next to Gwen's mother-in-law.

"Mrs. Henry! Hello, Mrs. Henry!" Linda spoke in a loud voice, enunciating each syllable. "How are you?"

"Oh. Oh, I'm just fine. Thank you, dear."

"Good! Good to hear!" Linda patted her shoulder and then looked up at Gwen with a sympathetic smile. They moved into the kitchen, where Gwen offered Linda coffee.

"Oh, no, thanks. Your mother-in-law looks great. She seems much better to me."

Gwen smiled thinly and asked, "So what are all those papers you're carrying?"

"These are the reason why I'm bugging you this afternoon. They're invitations for a block party in two weeks. We thought we'd have one last hurrah while the weather's still nice and before the holiday season starts up. Here, take a look." Linda handed Gwen one of the orange flyers. "I was counting on you to make that casserole. The one with the pasta and vegetables? Everyone loves it. Oh, and if it's not asking too much, your lemon bars are to die for. Would you mind?"

"Sure, I can do that."

"Great! Hey, how've you been? I haven't seen you around as much anymore."

"Things are going well. I guess I'm just tied up with Dan's mother. I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone."

"I can understand that. It must be tough. Listen, I've still got to talk to Janice and that whole side of the street, so I better run. Thanks again for offering to help out. The block party's going to be a lot of fun."

Gwen walked Linda to the door, and just as she was leaving, Linda turned. "You and Dan are coming, right? Bring the mother. She can sit and watch and eat cake. She'll love it."

"I'll talk to Dan. I don't know what his schedule is."

"Oh, of course. See you later."

Gwen watched Linda cross her front lawn, and then she slowly shut the door and walked back into the family room. She sat down on the sofa.

"Oh, hello. What's your name?" Her mother-in-law looked slowly around. "Where am I?"

Gwen turned away, pretending not to hear. She knew that in a short while, her mother-in-law would forget she had even asked.

After she had found the vacuum cleaner and done as much housework as she could tolerate, Gwen removed a package of ground beef from the refrigerator and set about making dinner. She let her hands work slowly through the meat, massaging in onions, seasonings, and bread crumbs. The meat's texture reminded her of the many rainy afternoons she had made play-dough for David's eager hands. He loved creating monsters, dinosaurs, and other creatures. As he grew older, the monsters developed facial features, hair, and tentacles, and the dinosaurs grew necks that stretched up even as they began to sag down from lack of support. Gwen had wanted to keep them all, preserve them in a shoebox and store them in her closet out of reach. But David was always excited to destroy his creations and start over, until he became bored and mashed everything together in a large ball.

Gwen broke off a chunk of the meat, rolled it between her palms, and placed the perfectly shaped meatball into a frying pan. She worked automatically, turning on a burner underneath a pot of tomato sauce, measuring the pasta. She brought out vegetables for the salad and began preparing the carrots. The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mom, how are you?"

"David!" Gwen smiled and brought the phone closer to her ear.

"So is Grandma driving you crazy? Is she running around and climbing the walls?"

"You're funny. She's actually watching TV at the moment."

"Should've guessed. You sure she's not running a betting ring on who wins The Price is Right? Just kidding. So how are you, Mom? What's going on? How are things?"

Gwen forced a smile. "Oh, things are well. You know how it is. It's always quiet around here."

"How's Grandma?"

Gwen was surprised by the ball of unshed tears that formed in her throat. "Grandma is Grandma. She's . . . oh, David. She's getting worse, but it's a slow deterioration. I swear, no one seems to notice but me. Your father has convinced himself that she's going to get better."

"Oh, Mom, I'm sorry. I know how hard it is for you. Have you talked to Dad about the nursing home yet?"

"I tried, but your father wouldn't hear of it. He seems to think that if she's around family--around people she knows--she'll somehow snap out of it. To be honest, I wouldn't be able to do it, anyway. I just keep thinking that if I were her . . . the nursing home's a lonely place. She really should be with family. She should be here."

"I guess so. So how is Dad?"

"He's fine. Still working."

"Has he been helping out with Grandma at all?"

"He tries to on the weekends, but it's hard for him."

"It's hard for you too."

"I know, but it's different when it's your own mother."

"Hmm, I guess." There was a brief silence and then David continued. "The main reason why I'm calling is about Thanksgiving."

"Oh really? Did you talk to your boss about getting Wednesday off?"

"I did, and he gave it to me, but--"

"Oh, that's wonderful! We can do a little Christmas shopping and go to Benny's for lunch."

"Mom, I'm sorry, but I'm not coming home for Thanksgiving. Lisa's family invited me to their place, and I accepted. You know, Lisa and I are really serious, and I think it's important for me to go home with her."

"Oh. You know you can invite Lisa here. It wouldn't be a problem. She can stay in your room and you--"

"Mom, Lisa's family is expecting us."

"But I was . . . You want to spend Thanksgiving with strangers?"

"Mom, I know her family pretty well. Her parents come into the city a lot. I haven't met her older brother, though, or her grandparents. Plus some of her aunts and uncles and cousins are going to be there the day after, so it'll be good to meet everyone. It's important to her."

"I see." Gwen was thankful that her voice didn't break. She took a deep breath. "I understand, David. It's important that you go. Do you think you'll marry Lisa?"

"I don't know, Mom. We've talked about it, but . . . I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, that's nice. I'm glad. I'm happy for you. You'll have to bring her here for dinner sometime. Sometime soon."

"Sure, Mom, that would be nice. I'll talk to Lisa about it."

After hanging up the phone, Gwen brought her fingers to her forehead and massaged her temples. She stayed that way until her breathing quieted, and then she lifted her head and turned to finish chopping the carrots. As she moved on to the lettuce--tearing chunks of the green leaves in half and throwing them into the bowl--she heard the garage door open and the sound of Dan's car pulling into the garage. She turned as the door to the garage opened and Dan walked into the kitchen. He headed for the kitchen table and put his briefcase and suit jacket down on top of it. He picked up the mail and started leafing through it as he asked Gwen how her day was. Before she could answer, he walked into the living room to see his mother. Gwen turned back to her salad, unperturbed by the nightly ritual.

She could still remember a time when she had become more and more excited with each passing hour, when she had anticipated the moment when Dan would walk through that door and gather her up in his arms, practically lifting her off the floor. Of course, that was before she had become too big with pregnancy, before they had moved to this house, before her mother-in-law had moved in. Gwen found it hard to believe she had once been so happy.

"Dinner almost ready?"

"Mmm hmm. The pasta just needs a few more minutes. You can start bringing your mother to the table."

As Dan talked to his mother, announcing dinner, Gwen pursed her lips. He was always loud and overly cheerful, as if he were talking to a small child he was taking to the circus.

"Dinnertime, Mom! Are you hungry?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, I think I am."

"Can I help you out of that chair? Here, use my arm."

"Thank you, dear. You know, it's hard with this old body of mine. It just isn't what it used to be."

By the time Dan had his mother seated at the table, Gwen had three plates of steaming spaghetti ready. She placed one plate in front of her mother-in-law.

"Here you go. I used your recipe for the meatballs. There's also salad and bread if you want it."

"Thank you. Now what's your name?"

"Gwen."

"Gwen's my wife, Mom."

Dan's mother looked at him in confusion. "You're married? Why that's wonderful! I didn't know you had gotten married, Johnny."

Johnny was Dan's older brother, who called once a month to thank Dan for taking care of their mother. Johnny was unmarried and lived about an hour away, but he never seemed to find the time to visit on any other day than Christmas. Gwen was certain that was only because of the promise of presents and free food. Inevitably, Johnny left with arms laden with leftover turkey and stuffing, and a new sweater, a package of socks, and some new gadget.

Dan didn't bother to correct his mother. Instead, he smiled at her and patted her hand. After dinner, Dan led his mother back into the family room and turned on the TV for her. He returned to the kitchen, helped Gwen bring the dishes to the sink, and then sat back down at the table.

"She seems better."

Gwen ignored the comment as she continued to wash the dishes. At one time, Dan had promised to get a dishwasher. That had been years ago.

"What do you think, Gwen? Gwennie?"

"I think she's the same. She has her good days and her bad days."

"But she seems more aware to me."

"Dan, you don't get better from Alzheimer's."

"You don't know, Gwen. They haven't really figured out the brain yet. Not really."

Gwen placed the plate she had been washing more forcefully than she intended onto the drying rack.

"You seem a little tense this evening. Bad day?"

"It's nothing."

"You were pretty quiet during dinner. Did something happen today? You seem angry at Mom."

"I'm not angry at her, Dan. I just think . . ."

"What?"

"Dan, it's just . . . I just think you're kidding yourself. I think you're in denial."

Dan was visibly surprised. "Denial? What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"No, Gwen, what do you mean?"

"I don't want to fight about this."

"We're not fighting. I just want to know what you mean by that."

"She's not getting better, Dan. She's getting worse. And she's going to continue to get worse, and her mind is going to deteriorate even more, until one day she won't even know who she is or what she is or where she came from or the difference between you and a boy on a magazine cover!"

"Jesus, Gwen. That's harsh. Do you know how hard this is for me? Do you have any idea what it's like to look at her? To look at this person who looks like your mother, but isn't? And have her always mistake you for your brother? And Johnny does nothing! Nothing! And I'm the one taking care of her. I'm the one looking after for her!"

There was a crash as Gwen slammed the glass she was holding into the sink. "You? You are the one taking care of her? You call leading her to the kitchen table and to her bedroom taking care of her? I am the one who has to look after her all day! I am the one who has to deal with her questions. The same goddamn questions every five minutes! She confuses you for Johnny? She doesn't even know who the hell I am!"

"Calm down, Gwen. Calm down. There's no need to get so emotional."

"Yes, there is, Dan! I look out for her all day. I take care of her, and she doesn't even know it. She doesn't even care. It's like I work so hard, I do everything I can--give everything--and then . . ." Gwen breathed in uneven gasps as tears fell down her face. "And then that's it. She's gone. She doesn't come back." As she wiped the tears from under her eyes, Gwen realized she was talking about David, not her mother-in-law.

"Gwen, you're not making sense. What's wrong?"

Gwen shook her head slowly. "Dan, have you ever thought how I feel? Have you ever thought what it's like for me to take care of your mother every day by myself? Do you know what it's like? I feel trapped. Like I can't leave."

Gwen sighed and looked at the broken glass in the sink. She heard her mother-in-law's quavering voice.

"Johnny? Johnny, is everything all right?"

Even with her back turned, Gwen could sense Dan's hesitation. She heard him turn and address his mother.

"Everything's fine, Mom. Everything's fine."

Gwen walked over to the backdoor and went outside. She felt the shock of cool, nighttime air, and paused to taste it. She headed toward the dogwood tree, and standing at its base, reached out and touched it. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the smell of the bark and the branches and the leaves just beginning to turn. Then, slowly, she let it go. She smiled and then looked back at the house, where the light from the kitchen cast a warm glow over the patio. She had never looked through the window from this side before. The kitchen looked warm, happy. She almost expected to see a young, smiling woman appear, moving about her evening chores, content in her world. Instead, she saw Dan leaning over the sink, collecting the shards of glass. As a cool breeze ruffled her hair, Gwen wrapped her arms around herself and walked back to the house.