The Trouble with Being Born: A Novel

Mother

61 “Did you hear about Esther Tolson? She died last month.” “No, I didn’t hear.” “She was my cousin, my mother’s brother’s daughter. I don’t know if that makes her a second cousin to you or not. She had cancer. A quick cancer, thankfully.” I don’t remember Esther Tolson. Harry’s memory is so good. He’s as sharp as a tack. “You remember Esther, don’t you? She was married to that Samuels fellow, Walter Samuels from LaMotte. A good-looking man. Your brother knew him, was sweet on his sister, Lottie. Charlotte Samuels. Tall and skinny, like her brother. She died in nineteen seventy. Anyway, Walter liked the ladies, and wasn’t careful who knew about it. I don’t know why I’m telling you this; it was so long ago. Jeff must be bored silly.” “No, I’m fine.” “Esther never talked much, and after Walter started running around, she talked even less. I think Esther came to your dad’s funeral, Frances. She was a big woman, used to wear her hair up high. Do you remember? She raised the two children, Martha and Mabel, without any help from old Walter. Walter died in nineteen seventy-five in a car accident. He wasn’t by himself. Esther moved to Saint Louis to be with Mabel. They buried her here, not next to Walter in LaMotte.” “Is Frances coming? Where’s Frances?” “She’s right here, dear. This is her son Jeff.” “Oh. I see. Is Frances coming? Where’s Frances?” Mother 62 mother I feel so sorry for Harry. Ethel’s been getting senile for a while, and Harry told me she often wakes up in the middle of the night screaming at him. Or else she wakes up and tries to get out of the house. He won’t put her in a nursing home. His daughter Linda helps him, but I wonder how long he can keep her at home. “I’m right here Ethel. I’m right here.” She looks at me like she is trying to remember something. “Oh, I see,” she says, then looks down at her nervous hands. It’s quiet for a while. I can hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. “I didn’t go to the funeral,” Harry says, “because Ethel had had a couple of bad nights, and I was just too tired.” Poor Ethel. I wonder how much of the conversation she understands . I look over at Harry. He’s looking out the window into the distance. It must be so hard for him. Jeff clears his throat. He bends over and rests his elbows on his knees. He’s not having a very good time. “I heard it was a nice funeral. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to pay my respects.” “Hello? Dad? Hello?” “In the living room, hon. Visiting with Frances and Jeff.” Linda must be home. I haven’t seen her in at least ten years. “Linda does all the grocery shopping now. Most of the cooking too. I don’t know what I’d do without my Linda. I’d better go see if she needs any help.” Harry stands up. I need to go to the bathroom. It must have been all that ice tea. I want to meet Linda first. “Frances, you don’t have to get up. I’ll be right back. Would you like more tea?” “No, no thank you. I just want to stretch my legs. We were in the car all morning.” “Jeff, are you okay? Can I get you another coke, or a beer.” “Yeah, I’ll take a beer.” “You’re driving you know.” “Geeze Mom, just one beer.” “You’re from Colorado, right. You like that Coors?” “It’s okay.” “Well, we’re close to Saint Louis. Budweiser country.” “Bud’ll be fine.” Harry goes into the kitchen. I’m not sure what to do. I want to see Linda, but I 63 mother don’t want to leave Jeff in here alone with Ethel. I have to go to the bathroom. Not badly, but soon. Linda comes through the kitchen door and stands in front of me. I’m pleased that Jeff rises quickly out of his chair. Linda is smaller and older than I remember. It’s been ten years, but her face has aged...