Chapter 36: Anne's Christmas

Christmas was just what I needed. Restful, happy. The whole study group was home, we had a wonderful reunion. We found we all had new friends, new lovers. We were just as close, but somehow we didn't end up in bed. On the other hand, Frank, a junior now, was busy catching up with his old girlfriends, some of whom spent the night. Ralph had his own girls, usually in the afternoon.

I spent hours with Mom and Dad, telling them about college, the group, our plans for Still Waters Art. I had a folder of Will's latest drawings Alex had made copies of, including some of the Nudes and Erotics of me. The whole family loved them. So do I.

The Explicits got a different reception. I wasn't prepared for it, but it was clear Mom preferred to think I wasn't one of the models. We were looking through them and I could see her getting horny. We came to a bald mons: mine.

"She shaved for this?" Mom asked.

Dad caught my eye. He was watching me.

"Looks like it, doesn't it?" I said. I made a note of that, and let it go.

We had family Christmas dinner. After we cleaned up, Mom and Dad took a love break. Frank, Ralph and I went upstairs, too.

"Where's that folder of pictures of you?" Frank wanted to know.

"Dunno. Not here."

"I saw it in Mom and Dad's room when we went by," Ralph said. "They'd been looking at it."

"Don't worry," I told Frank, "we'll borrow it back later."

.oOo.

On December 29, Marianne and Martin had just left, and I was just settling into bed. I was dropping off when my phone rang.

"Anne, it's Mary. I'm at Denver airport. Can I come and stay with you a while?" Her voice was on the edge of breaking. I knew she was almost ready to scream and cry.

"Sure. Of course. What plane are you taking? When does it get here, I'll meet you."

"Oh, Anne, thank you. I'd have had to go back to school; I couldn't bear that. It's Flight 63, gets there at 3:47. Oh God, I can't do that, get you out of bed at three o'clock. I'll get a room, you pick me up in the morning."

"Mary, shut up. I will meet your plane here at 3:47 or whenever it gets here. You be on it or I'll hunt you down and kill you."

"Oh, Anne. I love you."

"Me too. What happened? Or should I wait?"

"Mom went nuts. I'll tell you when I see you. Bye." She hung up.

I went to Mom and Dad's room. They were still awake, so I sat on the end of the bed.

"What's up?" Dad asked. Mom was sprawled all over his chest.

"Mary called. Said her mother went off her rocker."

"You ask her to come here?"

"She called to ask if she could. I said, 'of course'. I'm going to meet her plane, quarter of four this morning."

"Good, you did the right thing. Need us for anything?"

"No. Just don't call the cops when you hear noises in the early morning."

I went back to my room, set the alarm and called the airline. They expected the plane to be on time. When the alarm woke me I took a quick shower. I drove to the airport and got some machine coffee while I waited for the plane to land.

Mary looked gaunt, red-eyed — not just from the late hour. She had a wild look in her eye, like The Bay in that picture.

"God, you look good. How do you manage it?" she said.

I took her in my arms and hugged her. "Come on, hon. I'll take you home."

We were both pretty quiet on the way. When we got to the house, the lights were on downstairs. We took off our coats, put Mary's bag in the front hall. Mom was in the kitchen in that silly tee-shirt that leaves her ass bare. There was hot chocolate in a pot and she was stirring something. She came to us, took Mary in her arms.

"I'm so glad you came to us, Mary. Sit down, eat something. I'll bet you're starving."

Mary's face brightened some. "I am. I forgot about dinner and there's no food on the plane." She sat down suddenly. "I just cried. All the way." Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Anne, tissues, please. Mary, have some of this chicken soup. And here's some corn muffins."

"Mom, you sound like Saul with your chicken soup."

"We got more from the Jews than Jesus, Anne."

Mary mopped her face, blew her nose and started putting the soup away. She ate soup and muffins like a starving person, drinking cocoa by the cup and glass after glass of water.

"I'll probably pee all night. Thanks. I did need that."

"Do you want to talk, Mary? Or sleep first?"

"I guess I better get some sleep, Anne. I'm not really rational right now, and lack of sleep won't help. Talk tomorrow. You got a spare bed?"

"You want to sleep alone? Or with me?"

"Oh, Anne. With you. I've been sleeping alone for more than a week. You know I hate it. You don't mind, Ms. Stilwell?"

"Sandy, Mary. Of course not. Hasn't Anne told you how we live here?"

"Yes. Just wanted to make sure. Thanks"

We went to bed about five, slept till noon. As we snuggled in, Mary drew me close and whispered 'Thank you' in my ear and fell dead asleep. I lay wakeful for a while, then dropped off myself. Off and on, as I dozed and Mary slept, I could feel her tears run down my skin.

When we woke, I hugged Mary for a long time, wordlessly. Finally, she got up. "Gotta pee." When she came back, I was sitting on the edge of the bed. She pulled on a pair of panties.

"I'm hungry again. And I need to talk."

I put on a tee-shirt and we went downstairs. Mom was putting away the remains of lunch. She was wearing a singlet. When she saw Mary in her lacy jazz pants, she pulled off her singlet and gave it to Mary.

"Well, you look a lot better than you did last night. Put this on, you're worse than naked in those panties. I might make a pass at you myself, and Frank will be along soon."

She grabbed a tee-shirt from the laundry basket and put it on while Mary struggled into the singlet. Mom is a size smaller than me, and in her own panties and Mom's singlet Mary looked like her body had simply been covered with white paint. She grinned at me and sat down at the table. It was the first time she'd lightened up, but it didn't last.

Mom started putting together eggs and bacon and toast for us. Mary drank coffee with a thousand-mile stare.

When the food was in front of us, Mary and I dug in. Mom sat down with us.

"Whenever you're ready, Mary. Tell us about it," she said.

Mary ate for a while, and some of the far-away faded from her eyes.

"Christmas was great. I'll tell you about that later. I got home from the ranch last night. Went to my room. Mom was there. She'd searched my room and found the folder Alex made for me. Like yours, Anne. Have you seen it, Sandy?"

"Yes. I loved it. Joe and I have it by our bed when the kids don't steal it."

Mary sort of snorted. "Huh." She shook her head, looked at me and smiled ruefully.

"Well, anyway, you know what was in it, then. She had it open on my dresser. When she saw me, she closed it and waved it at me and started screaming. Her eyes were wilder than any horse or animal I've ever seen. She called me everything she could think of. Whore, Slut, Bitch, a lot more. The worst thing she could think of was to call me 'Un-chaste'. That's a little weird, but that's her. I dodged her and locked myself in my room. She started banging on the door and kept on screaming. Sometimes I couldn't make out what she was saying, she just howled.

"I packed my bag. And called a taxi. I wasn't sure how I was going to get out when the cab came, you know? She was raging up and down outside my room. Hitting the door. I thought about yelling back at her, but I knew that wouldn't work. I thought about slugging her, knocking her down so I could escape. I really did. And for a minute I really wanted to. But I couldn't have, really."

Mary was crying again. I shoved a box of tissues across the table.

"Then I saw Dad's car come in the driveway. I wasn't sure what that was going to mean. I mean I didn't know if he was going to help mom or just fade into the background like he always has, or what. But I knew I had to leave right then. No more time. So I grabbed my suitcase and opened my door. Mom was just starting to hammer on it with the folder again. She almost got me, but I ducked. I really believe that, if she could have, she would have hit me with it. I got around her and ran down the stairs.

"Dad was in the front hall, wondering what was going on. Mom followed me down, still screaming and trying to hit me. She started calling him names, too. I dodged around Dad, headed for the door. He had his coat off. Then he called my mom's name. I've never heard him speak like that. You know how, in the movies, these sergeants say things so you feel like you have to do it? Voice of command. Anyway that was Dad. Not shouting. Made me stop, too, before I got the door open.

"He called her name and she shut up and stopped in her tracks. He told her to go sit down and wait for him. She did it. I couldn't believe it. And Dad took me in his arms and held me. I can't remember the last time he did that.

"Anyway I told him I was going to come here, and he told me to go ahead, let him know where I was... Oh, I need to call him and leave a message. Anyway. That's it. The cab came, I got to the airport and called you, Anne."

Mom said, "Call right now. Get that out of the way, then let's talk."

Mary called, left a message that she had gotten here safely, left the number. We took coffee into the living room. I brought the box of tissues. Mary and I took the couch, Mom sat in her favorite armchair.

"Anne. I can't thank..."

"Shut up, Mary."

"You too, Sandy."

"Mary, at Thanksgiving and since she's been home now, Anne's talked about nothing but you and the rest of your gang. You're as much a part of our family as Frank and Ralph. You do for family. That's all. Now, you've told us what happened. I want to know how you feel."

"Rotten."

"How, rotten? What kind of rotten?"

"I always... mom and Dad took good care of me. They really have always wanted what's best for me and really let me do mostly what I want. But we've never been close. I live with them. I love them both..."

We waited while she snuffled and blew and thought.

"... I've been here, what? Less than twelve hours. And you're more family to me than they are."

The tears streamed down her face, fell unheeded between her breasts. The singlet was getting wet.

"Shit," she said. "All my life, mom's been on my case. Be chaste. Wear a bra. Don't show your legs. Don't be pretty. Stay away from boys... Be... Fucking... Chaste." She pounded the arm of the sofa with each word.

"And Dad never said a word. He let it all go down, never interfered. Let her do it to me.

"And then, last night. I don't believe it. He faced her down. The bastard. Why now? Where the hell has he been?" Mary was sobbing. I moved over and put my arm around her. She put her head on my shoulder and drenched my shirt for a change. After a while, she calmed down, sat up and mopped her face and chest.

"I've got to call Aunt Bessie," she said in a determined voice.