Chapter 5

When the alarm called Kate to duty, the warm body in her arms made her reluctant to rise. But she had a family to feed, which was much better than preparing breakfast for one. “Do you want to come to the kitchen with me, dear?”

“Can I? ... Please.”

“You certainly may! Bathroom first. Can you go by yourself?”

“Yes, Memere.” And she did, showing a dressed Kate her washed hands. After Kate had her own bathroom time, they went down to the kitchen. Cat sat on her phone book at the kitchen table while Kate described the breakfast preparations. “Memere, I wish I lived here with you all the time.”

“I’d enjoy it, too, dear. But Papa and Maman have work to do in Chicago.”

“I could stay.”

“You’d miss Maman. Besides, right now, Maman makes the rules for Cat. You think, no Maman, no rules, don’t you?”

“Yes.” It sounded like Memere didn’t think so.

“Well little girls need rules. Now, I don’t make rules for you, because Maman does, and I trust her for the rules to be right.” Cat didn’t think the rules Maman made were right. “If you were my little girl, I’d be the one making the rules. And you might think my rules were far stricter -- were far harder on you. Ask Tante Kathleen. Once, she was my little girl and she thought my rules were very hard on her. And she didn’t eat half the pickles you do, not one tenth.”

“No?” Maman, however many rules she made, said no when she meant no. Memere was a little like Papa. Sometimes Papa spoke a long time, and it meant no.

“No, she didn’t. And ask Papa. Little boys need rules, too, and he was once my little boy. He didn’t think I was easy. So, I like you here on visits; I like being an indulgent grandmother; I wouldn’t be so indulgent if you were here permanently. Anyway,” [it was time to change the subject] “you talk about being in your Maman’s stomach. Have I ever told you about the time you were here when still in your Maman’s stomach?” Kate didn’t like ‘stomach’ for ‘belly,’ but Jeanette had obviously made the choice, and this was Jeanette’s child, not hers. For that matter, it was Jeanette’s belly.

“No?” Memere was going to tell her. Cat’s vocabulary, which included ‘portcullis,’ didn’t include ‘rhetorical question.’ Living with her father, though, she had heard plenty. Anyway, she enjoyed the stories Memere told, and there was something special about being with her in the kitchen wearing nightie and slippers when everybody else was asleep.

“Well, dear, it was Christmas time. And I already knew that Maman and Papa, who weren’t your Maman and Papa yet, wanted to have a baby.” [‘Were trying’ just might raise the question, ‘how were they trying, Memere?’ Giving that talk, when it was time, which wasn’t now, was Jeanette’s responsibility. And she didn’t envy her. Been there, done that, with another girl who was intelligent and inquisitive.] “Anyway, that Christmas both Maman and Papa looked as though they were keeping a secret -- a happy secret. Then, one night at dinner, they told us. They were going to have a baby. They told Pepere, and Tante Kathleen, and me. Charles wasn’t here at the time.

“And Pepere was happy to hear that they would have a baby and he would be a grandfather. He said that the finest gift that Christmas never made it under the tree. Because you were in your Maman, and she -- of course -- didn’t go under the branches of the tree. And Tante Kathleen was happy. And I was very happy, indeed. But, you know what?”

“What Memere?”

“I don’t think any of us were as happy as Maman and Papa were. Not about the news, of course; they already knew. But they were very happy that they would have a baby. And, months later, they did. And the baby was you! Then, they were even happier. And Tante Kathleen and Charles came to see you. They saw you baptized. Have you seen a baptism in your church?”

“I think so.”

“Well, you were a very tiny baby, and the minister sprinkled water on you and gave you the name Catherine Angelique. And, since my name is Katherine -- spelled with a K, I’ll show you -- you were named for me. I felt quite honored. And, then, you came here that Christmas with your family. I mean with Maman and Papa. And we were all glad to see you. As I said, as the pictures showed, you were teeny-tiny. You didn’t walk yet, and everybody wanted to hold you. I held you, and Pepere held you, and Tante Kathleen held you.”

“And Sharl, and Maman?”

“Charles wasn’t here again that year. We didn’t see Charles much until he had ended his residency. That’s the last stage of a doctor’s education. They can get very little time off then, and you saw him more than we did. And Maman held you sometimes, mostly when you were hungry. But we all felt that Maman and Papa got to hold you when you weren’t here. So we wanted to get our chances. Charles turn is now. You are such a big girl that I couldn’t pick you up. But he gets to lift you up way high.”

“You need to get dressed, Cat.” Jeanette had appeared.

“You could leave the next morning’s costume for me, dear. As it was, we’ve been up for more than half an hour. Would you like scrambled eggs and bacon? I’m afraid it isn’t real bacon; I got in the habit when Russ was here.”

“Probably better for us. Yes, thanks. Think Cat should eat like this and dress afterwards?”

“If it doesn’t break any hard-and-fast rules, dear.” Not that she thought it did. Jeanette wouldn’t have brought it up if she weren’t going to permit it.

“Do you want to eat like this, Cat, and dress after breakfast?”

“Please, Maman.”

“Very well, you may.”

“I’ll get you a plate, too, Cat. Only a little eggs, but you can have more if you want them.”

“I’ll carry them in. Bob’ll be along in a minute.” Katherine’s policy was probably better than filling Cat’s plate and letting Bob finish the remains. Better for both of them.

At about the same time, Kathleen was going into the bathroom as her brother came out. When she got back to her room, she was grinning.

“You think you’re welcome here? When you go into the john, look who really rates.” Charles looked around, before shaving. The holder for a glass and toothbrushes held two toothbrushes, one of them short. He smiled at that.

“I’m not going to feel rejected,” he told Kathleen back in her room.

“I’d think not. I come second to Cat, and I’m Mom’s own flesh and blood. Now, when she spends time in your lap, then I feel jealous.”

“Liar! I’ve never held your mother in my lap.”

“You have definitely spent too much time in this house.” They went downstairs together and went into the kitchen for their food. “Really, Mom, you rise first and eat last. Don’t you think you should join us?” Kate followed them back.

“Really dears, have you looked out the window?”

“Build an ark.”

“Unless someone has made important plans for today, I suggest we spend it inside.” There were nods. “The thing is that I have a ham, and I planned to serve a feast sometime during this visit.”

“As opposed to the gruel we’ve subsisted on so far?” asked Bob.

“Thank you, dear, but I was wondering whether Kathleen and Jeanette would join me in the preparations. You two could keep Cat amused, and we could have the feast as a noon dinner. Does that seem reasonable?” She got nods. “And, dear, Cat needs to brush her teeth and get dressed.” Although this was addressed to Bob, Jeanette took her up.

“We’re not enforcing the nudity taboo on Cat, Mom. On the other hand, Jeanette doesn’t want me forcing a violation of it, either. Then Cat decides.”

“And, some time, dear, she will. Quite suddenly, if experience is a guide. Jeanette is a wonderfully thoughtful mother.”

“I think so, and she has the greatest respect for your wisdom. So to speak, she wants to be a modern-day version of you rather than of her own mother.”

“Well, dear, I’m not certain that either is the height of wisdom. Whatever her mother did wrong, she did end up with Jeanette. Nobody is always wrong, not even mostly wrong. As for me, I read the books, but that was decades ago; all the advice is certain to have changed.”

“That means, Kate, that your advice will be the newest scientific breakthrough when Cat has a child.”

“Really, dear, cynicism about pediatric advice is widespread, but from a pediatrician?”

“We’re the most cynical of all. Parents have one, two, maybe a few, children. They wonder what would have happened if they’d done something different. We have hundreds of patients. We see all sorts of child-raising patterns succeed and all sorts fail. Jeanette is a great example. Apparently, her mother did everything in her power to crush her self-image. She’s a strong, confident, woman.”

‘Well, dear, she is that. And she’s trying to raise a strong, confident, daughter.”

“And, so far, succeeding. Sometimes, a confident girl, much less a strong one, embarrasses her parents. But it’s better than a shrinking violet. With apologies to our, non-shrinking, Violet.”

“Apologies accepted, Bob.”

“Dear, would you mind terribly going up to my room and getting the kitchen timer? It’s on my night stand. We’re going to need it.”

“Better than paring vegetables. My kitchen work starts now.” When Kathleen came back with the timer, Jeanette and Cat were right behind her. Charles sat down in a chair with a pile of books. Soon Cat was in his lap. The three adult women went into the kitchen. “Now that you have the timer, why was it out of the kitchen?”

“My memory is going, dear. Could it be Alzheimer’s?”

“Not if you can remember to cook like you have been doing. Are you claiming you don’t remember why the timer was up there? Because an Alzheimer patient wouldn’t have remembered where it was.”

“Well, dear, Jeanette was afraid that Cat might not wake up in time to get to the bathroom. So, as the responsible adult, it was my job to wake her. Actually, I don’t sleep through the night either. My bladder wakes me, but I might keep the four-hour schedule. It’s somewhat more convenient. Sorry about that, dear, if it makes it harder for Cat to wake up when she gets back home.”

“Well, it either will or it won’t. I actually figure that the number of wet sheets I’ll have to change is written in heaven. All I can control is when they occur.”

“Very sensible thought, dear, even if it turns out to be incorrect. Motherhood is a journey, not a task. Feeling you’ve failed -- even that you’ve succeeded -- leads to useless frustration.”

“Speaks the woman who has Bob Brennan as a son,” Kathleen said, “Must be consoling. Now, what should I do?” Kate assigned their tasks, sitting at the table. She began her own preparation of the ham with a jar of cloves.

“What I want to hear,” said Jeanette when she had the rhythm of scraping carrots down, “is this business of your enlightened self interest.”

“Well, dear, it should be clear. I’ve had a basically happy life. I lost Russ, of course, and still cry over that. But I had Russ for decades. More happiness there than tears. I’ve been gifted, of course. As I told you, children are potluck. I was lucky in mine. Both, despite what Kathleen pretends to believe.

“Still and all, I’ve worked with what I’ve been given to be happy. You are the luck of the draw, Cat doubly so. Maybe triply so, because Bob was luck, too. But, I made you welcome, I tried to make your visits here pleasant. And I think I’ve succeeded more than failed.”

“You’re always a lovely, welcoming, hostess.”

“And I get your visits, don’t I? And, these days, your visits include Cat. I don’t think you regard these visits as chores. Oh, they involve chores; they involve Amtrak, for heaven’s sake. But you don’t seem to dread them from one year to the next. Cat enjoys them, so telling Cat that you are going to visit Grandma Brennan doesn’t involve screams of complaint.”

“No complaints whatsoever. A few screams, maybe. You’re her favorite person. She loves these visits.”

“And, while you might think I spoil her too much, you enjoy the visits partly because she does, too. So, I get what I want from you, and I get what I want from her. I can’t have my husband back; I can’t have my youth back. But the humanly-possible things that I want, I get. Every part of that which isn’t luck is pure selfishness.”

“And this is the woman who talks about my sacrifice. I’ve got what I wanted. Since my marriage, I’ve got nearly everything that I wanted. Some of it took a little while, but what I wanted most, I got early on. We could have married a year earlier, but not sooner than that, not when I was still in high school.”

“Well, Jeanette, aside from your perverse interest in marrying Bob,” Kathleen said, “you put your academic career on hold.”

“Dear, you drive that argument into the ground. Fight with your brother all you want, but you don’t want to fight with Jeanette. Use a little of the selfishness I’ve been preaching. What draws her to Bob is what draws you to Charles.”

“Indeed, the first time I saw Charles before The Kitten’s baptism,” Jeanette said, “I was struck by the resemblances. Differences, sure, but he is a lot like your brother and how your father was. Tall, deep voice, sense of humor.”

“That’s really beside the point, dear.”

“Charles can sing. He has a lovely singing voice.”

“Intelligent.”

“Dears, none of that matters. The particulars which attract a woman might be quite different. You didn’t look for the best singer you could find, dear. If you had, a medical school would be a weird place to look.”

“Well, no.”

“However different the particular attractive features, the attraction is the same. I said that we could have wished that you’d given your heart elsewhere. When you gave your heart to Charles, though, that defined the situation. Well, Jeanette gave her heart to Bob. Aside from my pleasure in her company and her child, my selfishness, she could have done worse. Don’t blind yourself. He may have a weird sense of humor, but he is not nasty, an alcoholic, or a wife-beater.”

“He supports me.”

“Yes, dear, but you supported him for years.”

“You don’t understand. Yes, his paycheck pays the bills, and once mine did -- with generous help from you and your husband. But back then, even before we were married, he kept me steady. He hugged me when I needed a hug. Had he been a perpetual student and we had never had a child because I needed to keep working, even then I’d have needed him more than he needed me. If I need his care less now, it’s because he’s helped mend me.

“You talk about the language study,” Jeanette continued. “You want to know how that came about? Well, it was the third thing I studied after the wedding. The first was a course he was taking, Studying with him was all sorts of fun, but he was a junior, after all. He stopped taking courses without prerequisites. He asked me what I wanted to study next.

“Y’know, Pastor Jim had talked to us about what we assumed from the families in which we grew up. He wants this, but she wants that. This isn’t too dangerous, ‘cause they are conscious of it and can compromise. What’s more dangerous is he thinks this is what it means to be married and she thinks that is what it means to be married. Well, I wasn’t too worried. I wanted us to be a family, and you were the family I most wanted to be like. Anyway, once Bob asked me if I minded that he said all the graces.”

“Jeanette! You didn’t let him?”

“You’re as bad as he was, Kathleen. I was glad to let him say grace. What he didn’t ask was whether my picture of family was one where somebody said grace at dinnertime. Because it wasn’t. But, since this was the Brennan pattern, and the Brennan pattern was what a real family looked like, I was glad. I teased him about it later, but I only teased. I never suggested that we stop. Since I wanted to be a family, I put my foot down on some issues. I know that you keep a neat house, Katherine, but you don’t seem to have taught him that.”

“I gave up, dear. He did a good wash, really. I let him clean his own room on his own schedule except for every other month. Which was often the only vacuuming he did. He was always better about personal hygiene, dear. Although I remember telling him that simple respect for a date required that he shower and wear clean clothes whenever he sees her. That rule may have been enough. He already showered before Church.”

“Well, anyway, he never claimed that vacuuming was an un-Brennan activity. Nor washing dishes, which considering that you had an automatic dishwasher and we didn’t, would have been a valid claim. I think I’ve lost my point.”

“Welcome to the family.”

“It’s not only your family, Kathleen. Anyway, Bob was giving me my free choice as to what I should study next. He regarded that as giving me total freedom. If I had opted for how oppressive the patriarchy was, he’d have got the books out of the University library for me. But, being Bob, he didn’t for a moment consider that I would want to study nothing. Anyway, the thing I did want to study was typing. I’d taken a little, but far from enough to qualify for office work. He clearly didn’t think that was a real study, but -- since it was what I wanted -- he agreed to buy the computer course which turned me into a decent typist. Believe me, there is all the difference in the world between a typist and a file clerk.

“When I had a job which involved typing,” Jeanette continued, “I was getting far more practice typing than I wanted. He asked me what I wanted to study next. Well I’d taken two years of high-school French. I took French in the first place because Bob had. Then I learned he had switched to German in college.”

“He didn’t tell you that, dear? He told us. I thought he told you everything.”

“He told me a great deal. Much of it was about his dreams.” Some of it was about her, and a lot -- just when he got back from his first year of college -- was about his version of their agreement to date others. It wasn’t a time to discuss his decisions about curriculum. “Remember that year we weren’t dating and that summer he was back on road construction. Anyway, I took two years of high-school French which qualified as one year of college French. I took second-year French. I didn’t like the results. I really didn’t have the vocabulary I should have. Nor the accent. Also, I was never going to get credit for studying East Asia, Tradition and Transition, lovely as that study had been. So, to get the knowledge which my transcript already said I had, I started learning French vocabulary on my own, starting from the list in the back of the book I’d studied, For a while, I worked on my speech in the language lab. You heard about that.

“So, I wasn’t denied studies in French because I married a Brennan. I may have slighted my studies in French because I was dating a Brennan, but I wouldn’t have learned that much more. I studied French because Bob kept asking what I wanted to study. I very much wanted to be married to Bob Brennan. I -- when pushed as to a subject -- had a slight preference for improving my knowledge of French.”

“I didn’t think he was that insistent, dear. I didn’t think your marriage was like that.”

“He wasn’t. As I said, he made assumptions. And it wasn’t only him. I said ‘I’m studying French.’ You all, your relatives out to several degrees, said ‘What Jeanette is is a person who is studying French on her own.’ And, to be perfectly honest, I came to enjoy it. When I really wanted something from Bob, I got it. When his assumptions were comfortable for me, I went along with them. The typing was one example. He did not consider that acceptably intellectual, but it was what I wanted. Cat was another. We got to the time we could afford either to send me to school or to start a child. He was certain that sending me to school was more important. I asked ‘Is this for me?’ If it was for me, then it should be what I wanted. And then he, you too, talks as if it was one more sacrifice I made. It was a decision I made. A very selfish decision.

“You took art history because the field interested you?” she asked her mother in law.

“Yes, dear.”

“And you took an MAT because it was something you could do with that education?”

“And because staying on campus was suddenly much more attractive. I’d met Russ, you see.”

“Throughout none of that time had you ever considered, let alone desired, teaching third grade?”

“Not really. I took the job when our finances were in a jumble. I couldn’t work as a secretary, even were my typing up to yours.”

“So, you spend the majority of your life in work you never particularly intended. I, on the other hand, have spent my adult life, or nearly all of it, as Mrs. Bob Brennan. Which is the position of which I dreamed for the preceding several years. I have a lovely daughter, a girl whose attention you covet -- both of you. I live a comfortable life, economically. I’m getting an education, a much better education than I would have received if I’d gone straight on. Really, you think college is more than a degree; it’s an experience. So, I get an educational experience that far surpasses what I could have received had I not married Bob. And, because it is a little later than it might have been, you call that a sacrifice. That’s fourth or fifth on my priority list, but it’s still better than what I gave up.”

“Then you are happy, dear?”

“Very happy. I cry sometimes, who doesn’t? You can’t be ecstatically happy all the time, but I have my moments. I’m usually content. I’m tired of hearing about my sacrifice.”

“Well, sacrifice or not, dear, you came into our family at an awkward time and made our cause your own.” Kate said. “That made you a Brennan. If our cause was yours, your cause, always, is ours.”

“At an awkward time for your family. It was a life-saver for me. And it was my coming in that made it awkward.”

“Still, Jeanette,” said Kathleen, “whatever you said, you put the family ahead of yourself. That makes you part of the family.”

“Whatever I said?”

“You said, ‘What’s better for Jeanette?’ then laid out that your working and being sure of Bob’s education was better for you than another year of school.”