Twelve

I CAUGHT MRS. ANDERSON on her way to the floor and settled her gently. I didn’t attempt to revive her. I figured everybody could use the peace and quiet for a minute. I turned her over to Miss Stevenson and while she and one of the security guards tended to Mrs. Anderson, I took the opportunity to wrap Melody in my arms and surreptitiously text Lissa. “Dealing w/ Mel’s Mom. Not good. Available for lunch?” I got a message back almost immediately. “Ready in 20 min. Say where.” I comforted Melody and whispered to her.

“Do you love me, Melody?” She nodded into my shoulder. “Will you let me help?” Another nod. “Think of a place to have lunch with your mom and text it to Lissa. Can you do that? That’s all you have to think about. Don’t let anything else upset you. We love you and we will never let anything bad happen to you.” She reached up and gave me a quick kiss then turned her back on the action while she got out her phone.

Miss Stevenson was giving Mrs. Anderson a sip of water out of one of Doc’s stock of water bottles. I decided that if I was ever going to take control of the game, this was the time. My lover needed me, but she needed her mother, too. I knelt beside Mrs. Anderson and quietly took over from Miss Stevenson. I helped her to her feet.

“I’m sorry this has been so hard on you,” I said. “Melody loves you so much; she’d never intentionally do anything to upset you and I guess I stumbled into it with both feet. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.” I turned Mrs. Anderson to face Melody. Mel’s back was still to us and she was talking on the phone. “Look at her, Mrs. Anderson. You must be so proud to have a daughter like Melody. She’s beautiful, kind, smart. She’s everything that I love. And I understand why you are upset about the painting.” I turned her toward the wall to look at what I’d painted. Every time I looked at it, I nearly cried. There was just something about it. But I knew what I had to say.

“There just is no way that I could capture that beauty and kindness with my brush. I really tried. I poured all the love in my heart into that painting, but just looking at her standing there and then looking at the painting, I can see how far short I fell. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do better.”

Melody’s mother was silent, maybe for the first time since she arrived at the college today. I think that for the first time she actually looked at the painting and she began to see what I was seeing.

“It’s just so ... intimate,” she whispered. “It’s so hard to see my daughter grow up and not be my little girl any longer. I never wanted to think of her in ... that kind of way. I just want to protect her. She is so precious to me.”

“We’re artists, Mrs. Anderson. That doesn’t mean we’re libertines. It doesn’t mean we don’t love. When I caught Melody and Lissa in that pose, I knew what it meant to be in love.”

“You caught them? You mean you didn’t put them like that?”

“No. We’d just finished making love and I turned and they were there, just like that. It was so beautiful I sketched it right there.”

“You were... ? Here?”

“Oh, no! Haven’t you ever had an experience that was so intense and beautiful that every time you closed your eyes you could see it again? I painted this from memory.” I heard a quick intake of breath behind me and had the impression it was Doc. He was the only person that wasn’t in my line of sight.

“And my little girl was ... with a ... woman?”

“We are with her and she is with us. You want to meet her, don’t you? She’s having lunch with us.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Oh, more than that. She loves Melody like you wouldn’t believe. Every time I see them kiss my heart nearly bursts. It just overflows with love and passion.”

“Are you a poet, Mr... ? I’m afraid I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Tony Ames and I’m not a poet. I’m just in love with your daughter, Mrs. Anderson.”

“And this other woman?”

“And with Lissa. My dad calls it a ménage à trois. Are you familiar with the term? It means a household of three.”

“Your parents know about this?”

“We introduced them this past weekend. Melody has been so excited about introducing us to you, but a little frightened about how you’d respond. I’m sorry I spoiled it with this painting.”

“It’s not ... not really awful. You are obviously very talented. But it’s ... it’s ... I can’t bear to see my daughter in such an intimate setting.”

“Parents are never supposed to see their children like this, are they? I think it’s a shame. It’s not there to titillate or make people uncomfortable, but what parent wouldn’t want to know how happy and peaceful her daughter was. We should be able to share that with our parents, don’t you think.”

“I suppose ... I ... that makes some sense. You are a very well-spoken young man.”

“I can only speak from my heart. My father told me this weekend that when I left for college, he and Mom vowed that they would love who I loved and respect the decisions I made in my life. I think that works in every direction, don’t you? I love Melody and I vow to love who she loves, and that includes you. There’s never really just two people in a relationship, even if they are a couple instead of a ménage à trois. There is always your family, the family of your partner, your children, your parents and siblings. It seems that when we fall in love, we isolate ourselves when we should be reaching out to embrace the loves of our loves. Lissa and I love Melody with all our hearts, and we want to love you, too.”

I’d tried to keep my voice calm and low key while I talked to Mrs. Anderson, but I wasn’t going to mislead her. Talking to my mom and dad this weekend had helped me to see how deep our family ties go. I gradually understood that my depression was causing me to raise barriers between my parents and me when I should have been building bridges. I was determined to start off as right as I could with Melody’s family. And Lissa’s, too.

“Perhaps we should go to lunch and meet the rest of the family,” Mrs. Anderson said softly. “Tony. Will you help me talk to Melody?” I nodded.

“Sweetheart,” I said. Melody turned around and looked at me with my arm around her mother. I smiled at her. That was all it took. Melody rushed to us and wrapped her arms around both her mother and me and hugged us fiercely. “Your mom wants to meet Lissa. Where are we going for lunch?”

I watched Melody and her mom as I hobbled down the street behind them. Lissa and Melody had chosen well. It was still early for lunch at Becky’s Café, so there wouldn’t be a crowd, and it was just far enough off campus that there wouldn’t be many kids there during class break. The food was light and genteel—not too expensive, but not fast-food, either.

Mrs. Anderson had shrunk away from her rage and as soon as she apologized to the Dean, Doc, and Melody, Melody wrapped her in a hug that showed me there was genuine affection between the two. I was afraid for a while that it wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t fathom what had really set her off. She just didn’t seem like the kind of person to fly off the handle like that, but once she did there was no way to back down. I wondered how I figured out how to defuse the situation and whether it would last when we added Lissa to the mix.

Mother and child is a more explosive relationship than any other, in my book. Maybe Lissa would have insights that would help us out. I didn’t remember the battles between my mother and me. Dad told me about them the summer after I graduated from high school. It seemed that when I was around three or four, I went through a phase where I’d blow up at anything. Mom was at the end of her patience and between the two of us, we could go from “I love you” to a nuclear explosion in two sentences.

Dad said he was worried that we’d build up long-term resentment for each other and that he had to intervene. But he didn’t join our confrontations. As soon as he heard the explosion, he would sweep in on me from wherever he was in the house and get down on the floor at my level and hug me. He’d just keep saying, “I love you, son,” over and over until I calmed down. Then he’d turn and do the same thing with Mom. He never criticized us or joined the argument. He never took sides. He just put a different feeling in between us. Mom would wrap me up and say, “I love you,” and we’d all calm down. It wasn’t long that as soon as I blew up, Mom wouldn’t wait for Dad. She’d just wrap me in her arms and say, “I love you.”