More from Charlie's Diary

I don’t know what to think.  If this were a soap opera instead of real life, I’d probably have a nervous breakdown and start having an affair or something.  Nikki says I ought to “confront” my father.  Karen thinks I ought to try to track down my sister.  But I’m really not that interested; I spent so many years repressing my curiosity and feelings about the whole thing that I don’t have the energy.

Every summer my father would fly out to see my sister for two weeks.  He would call home every couple days, but he never mentioned her.  As I grew older, I wondered if my father’s first marriage was simply an elaborate ruse designed to fool either my mother or me or both of us.  Maybe he had a girlfriend that he saw once a year.  Maybe money that supposedly went for child support was just his fun money.  My mother was easy to fool, because it never occurred to her that people would say things that weren’t true; that would defeat the whole purpose of communication.  You’d have thought this would have been great for me, but I stopped taking advantage of it because I felt too guilty; it was liking stealing cookies from a blind child's lunchbox.

This was before I knew the story of his first wife and the Trashing of the Offices.  Janet said that she’s not surprised with all that was going on in those days.  There were even parties where people would pair off with someone else’s spouse.  Not that she ever did; it creeped her out and anyway she’d never been invited to one. At the time, everyone in her crowd had young children and they were all too tired.  She supposed she should have suspected something when Doug told her he thought it would be “interesting.”  But at least he’d had the decency to wait until the kids were teenagers.

Kate, of course, was very concerned and kept asking me how I felt about things.  I said I didn’t know.   She kept eyeing the box of tissues and offering me tea.  Then she asked me if I wanted to go out and get a drink or a hot fudge sundae.  I opted for the sundae.  We didn’t talk about It, but just about stuff, like the kids, and how Janet’s cats are adjusting to the rectory, and what we were doing for Thanksgiving.  Strangely enough, I felt much better.

Karen and Nikki want me to get more information from Aunt Pooh.  I decided we could all go over to see her; she loves to tell stories and this certainly is a good one.

Charlie Starts a Diary

I can’t believe what happened!  I can’t put it on the blog, but maybe if I write it down as if I were blogging it I’ll feel better or something.

Aunt Pooh was an at-home mom who wrote in her spare time and was active in the women’s movement.  Today, she’s won awards for her writing and teaches at the community college.  My Uncle Joe is a therapist, which Ed says was lucky for my cousins, who had to grow up in a house with writers and feminists hanging around all the time and making protest signs in the living room.

Aunt Pooh gave me a nice cup of pumpkin spice tea and organic oatmeal cookies.  “Well now, I always wondered how long it would take you to notice your birthday.  I figured that if you were like your mother, you’d have spotted it years ago.  But you take after the rest of us.  Too busy with life to worry about numbers.”

“Well, I never needed to see it.  I thought I knew when I was born.  But why did everyone tell me I was a year younger?  I could have been driving or drinking or voting!”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.  Not lying to you, but not arguing with your mother.  She was upset enough.”

“Upset about what?”

Aunt Pooh signed.  “Charlie, for someone who reads so much, you are showing a real lack of imagination . . .  Do you remember when you got married, and your mother’s dress fit perfectly except in the stomach area?”

“So we got it altered.”

“And if you look at the wedding pictures, you’ll see how big her bouquet was.”

Fortunately, I’d put my cup down or I would have dropped it.  “You mean my parents had to get married?”  I don’t know which was more shocking, that my mother had been pregnant at her wedding or that she had lied about it.  “But why . . .”

“Oh, Charlie,” Aunt Pooh shook her head.  “Your mother was so innocent.  She was so wrapped up in her science and numbers that she didn’t know what could go on with people.  She didn’t see consequences and when they turned up, she was dumbfounded.  But there’d been enough scandal already.  She didn’t want it to follow you for the rest of your life.”

“What scandal?”

“You know your father was married before and that you have a half-sister.  Didn’t you ever wonder why she never came to visit?”

“I gave up asking.  My mother always changed the subject.  And it made me too sad to think about it.”

“Well, your mother’s office was next to your father’s.  One thing led to another and his wife found out.  She stormed into the Chemistry Department, trashed his office and your mother’s and got a quickie divorce.  Very bad business decision on her part, but she agreed because your father offered to pay very generous child support and not have her arrested, which he could have done.  And then she moved; she was probably too embarrassed.”

“What did Grandma and Grandpa say?”

“There was all kinds of stuff happening at the time.  Everyone was getting divorced either for ‘personal growth’ or because they found someone else.  You know how your grandmother was, always looking for the positive.  So she threw herself into planning the wedding and then the baby shower.  Dad said that your mother could always support herself and a baby if she had to.  You know, they never understood poor Louie.”

Poor Louie!  I never thought of my mother like that.

I’ll have to think about this and talk it over with Karen and Nikki and maybe Janet and maybe Kate and maybe even Ed.

And I’ll have to think about something else to put on the blog. 

Did I miss a year?

It’s been a tradition in my family to give the children literary names.  Betsey was named for Elizabeth Bennett, David Copperfield’s aunt, Betsey Trotwood, and Jane Austen.  My mother was Louisa for Louisa May Alcott.  I have three names, Charlotte Emily Anne, after the Brontes.  Cilla was supposed to be Belinda Harriet as a salute the Barbara Pym’s heroines in Some Tame Gazelle, but she was born on Thanksgiving, so we decided to give her a Pilgrim name, and she is Priscilla Temperance.  Josh escaped, because Darcy is a girl’s name and you can’t really name your son Mister.

Betsey did not believe that I had two middle names.  “That’s weird.”  So I dug out my birth certificate.

“See, right here.    ‘Charlotte Emily Anne Somerville born November 12 . . .’”  Then I noticed something.  My birth certificate said I was born a year earlier than I was.  I guess I’d never read it. 

That was weird.

Ed joked that I had married him under false pretenses and that maybe we’d have to get married again like Rob and Laura Petri had.  Unfortunately he said it in front of the girls, who were all set to have another wedding.

Karen thought there might be some romantic story behind it and Nikki said it was probably a clerical error.  She had had to have her daughter Jennifer’s birth certificate changed because it said “Hennifer” and her nephew is Matthew David instead of David Matthew, since her sister didn’t want to go to the trouble to change it.

Nikki is probably right, but I decided to call my Aunt Pooh.  That is my mother’s sister, who was named after Ursula in Women in Love.  When she didn’t like it, my grandmother explained that Ursula meant bear, so she decided to call herself WinniethePooh, but somehow it degenerated into “Pooh.”  Aunt Pooh has four children, my cousins Meghan, Joanna, Bethany, and Jim.  When Jim realized that he had been named James so he could be called “Jamie,” he rebelled.  I think my uncle was relieved.

When I called Aunt Pooh, she said she’s been dying to have a nice visit and could I come over to her house and how would Saturday be?

I was puzzled, but I said “Of course.”

It’s always nice to see Aunt Pooh.    

Boo!

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday.  I loved dressing up and going out at night.  Of course, until I was ten or so, my friends and I all went with a parent. .

Unitarian Christmas just seemed to get lost in a blur of inclusive celebrations – a Hanukah party featuring  pancakes without maple syrup, which we kids threw at each other; a Thanksgiving Seder, with readings from The Mayflower Compact and other Puritan writings instead of Exodus; and a Solstice Ceremony, which my father refused to attend.  There weren’t a lot of males there; afterwards my mother and her Unitarian girlfriends and their daughters would go out to a diner.  The grownups would talk about the Goddess and lament that the church hadn’t attracted any Wiccans.  Usually someone would complain about all the Christmas chores she still had to do, and they would laugh and say, “What are you, a Jesus freak?”  It was fun but a little uncomfortable to see the moms this way, laughing and talking and having a good time.


When my mother was a child, she had lived in a suburb that was really The Country.  There were cornfields on two sides of her house.  She and her friends would go into the fields, pick corn, shell it, and on the nights before Halloween, go out without adults, sneak up to windows of houses, throw the corn, and run away.  (It was animal corn, so it was hard, like the decorative Indian corn you see in stores, although in the summer, when it was soft, she and her friends would eat it.)  The bolder ones would ring the doorbell.  The kids loved this story and would have loved to try it, but fortunately there aren’t any cornfields around.

As usual, the girls had started planning their Halloween costumes in September.  Perhaps because she had been cheated out of a first communion veil, Cilla decided to be a bride.  Betsey couldn’t decide between being a vampire or a zombie until Josh decided that he wanted to be a zombie.  So vampire it was.  It would involve lots of makeup, perhaps because Betsey felt she’d been cheated out of being allowed to wear lipstick for the wedding.

In our town, Trick or Treat night is always the Friday or Saturday before Halloween, so the kids won’t be kept up too late on a school night.  This makes Halloween rather anti-climactic, but I always make a Halloween dinner, which we eat by candlelight; pumpkin soup from the intellectual deli and grilled cheese sandwiches imprinted with a jack-o-lantern. (I got the stamp in a set, with stamps of a smiley face,  Santa, an Easter egg, and a turkey.)  We have tomato juice to drink, since it looks like blood.

Karen asked me if I wanted to come over and try to contact Margaret with a Ouija board.  I said we always watch scary movies together, and why didn’t they come over here.  Maybe it makes me a wuss, but after The Exorcist, which gave me nightmares as a child, I’m afraid of them.  I asked Karen if they were going to have pea soup.

I would have told Karen that it would probably be more worthwhile to say a prayer for Margaret on All Saints’ Day, but I didn’t want to be an obnoxious churchlady.

 

Post Nuptial Post Mortem

Karen and Nikki came over Sunday afternoon for Part 2 – Discussing the Wedding.  The people at Epiphany had loaded us up with leftovers (telling us to “Come back, now.”) as well as the paper and plastic.  (Somehow this doesn’t sound as elegant as china, silver, and glasses, but I don’t want to give a false impression.)

We all agreed that the wedding had been beautiful, although Karen, who is becoming quite the Methodist thanks to her detective work, thought the chanting was “kind of creepy – no offense.”

I had to agree. “But Kate went High Church because when she was community organizing in the slums, she needed to escape to another world for an hour a week.”

“Well, she certainly did.”

Allison and her family had left in the morning.  “Do you think she’s healed now?”  Nikki asked.

“I sure hope so.”

“You’re nicer than I am.  I wouldn’t give a rat’s as . . .butt.”

“Well, she’s family.  Courtney and Dylan are calling Kate ‘Grandma.’  Maybe back home, they’ll call her ‘Pastor Grandma,’ but that’s not my problem.”

“Speaking of family, your dad seemed to hit it off with Missy.  She started getting all sentimental and telling him how awful she felt about breaking up Janet’s marriage and would she ever forgive her?”

“He must have loved that.”

“Actually, he didn’t seem to mind. He told her she should try to get to Janet through Kate.  He called her ‘the other one.’  Why doesn’t he like Kate?  She’s such a sweetheart.”

“In his mind, there’s got to be something wrong with anyone who would love Janet if they weren’t related to her and had to.  Plus, he thinks clergy are either crazy or hypocrites.”

“What about Unitarian ministers?”

“He thinks they’re bleeding heart liberals and tree huggers with more education then common sense, but they’re interesting to talk to.  Were you eavesdropping?”

“I was at the table next to them, and they’d gotten loud.  Ed’s dad was getting a drink or in the bathroom or something.”

“It’s too bad he wasted his time with Missy,” Nikki said.  “He probably could have gotten some wedding sex with one of the single churchladies.”

“She’d probably have tried to convert him.” 

Cilla picked that time to walk in the kitchen.  “I thought the bride and groom were the ones who had wedding sex.”

I gave her one of the homemade white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.  “Why don’t you take Betsey and Josh cookies, too?  Here, I’ll put everything on a tray for you.  And here are some napkins from the wedding.”

“Can I have two?”

“Of course you can.  Now run along.”

Karen and Nikki were trying not to laugh.  “You missed a teachable moment there.  Does she understand about Janet and Kate?”

“She has a new grandmother and she got to be a flower girl and that’s good enough for her.  Anyway, one of her friends has two dads.”

“And she got two cookies.” 

That would work for me.

Beautiful!

The wedding was beautiful.  The weather was beautiful.  The church was beautiful.  The Parish Hall was beautiful.  The brides were beautiful.  The bridesmaids and flower girl were beautiful.  The junior ushers were beautiful.  Nobody spilled anything on themselves or had to go to the bathroom just before it was time to walk down the aisle.  (Betsey and Courtney, who had been watching wedding movies for weeks, had been concerned that they were going to have to help the brides go to the bathroom.  But the dresses were tea length, so it wasn’t necessary.  I told them I would take care of holding back anybody’s hair if she was throwing up.)

Ed ended up taking Kate and Janet down the aisle at the same time.  Kate said she needed someone to grab onto and she was afraid she would knock Janet over.  Ed said he had finger marks dug into both his arms.

 The Peace took fifteen minutes.  By the end of the ceremony, everyone over the age of twenty was crying, except the priest and the brides, who were beaming. 

The reception was beautiful.  The parishioners had outdone themselves with the food.  Everyone brought his or her specialty, so it was a giant potluck.

One of the ladies from Epiphany came up to me and said how lovely the children had looked and did my family have a church home?

“Oh, yes.  We go to Trinity.”

“Oh . . . Well, I’m sure it’s very nice.  I hope your enjoyed our service.  We really go all out.”

Kate saw what was happening and came over.  “Evelyn, you look lovely.  Did you try Dominick’s little quiches?  You know he’ll want your opinion.”

“Oh, of course.  Now don’t be a stranger,” she said to me as she hurried off.

“I was afraid this would happen,” Kate apologized.  “I should have said something to them about sheep stealing.”

I just laughed.  “We just have to keep them away from Cilla.”  I was not ready for “Please, please, please can we go to Grandma Kate’s church?” probably with some doctrinal arguments. 

I had been worrying about my father and Doug.  But I guess their mutual dislike of Janet made a bond.  Since Doug is not a dancer, my father even danced with Missy.

There were two bouquets to throw.  Betsey, Cilla, and Courtney dragged my father up, and he caught Janet’s.   “Yet another grandmother to come,” Karen remarked to me.

“What's one more?,” I said.  “But her daughter can do the wedding.” 

 

Just Before the Big Moment

Dylan escorted Allison and Josh escorted me.  The girls tried to look serious, but they were too excited.