After the Reunion Read Free Page A

too late. She drove around and around the underground parking lot beneath the giant market, looking desperately for a space, and finally found one so far away it belonged to another store. Then the endless walk through thick carbon monoxide fumes from all those cars, trying not to breathe, knowing it would seem twice as long on the way back with a loaded cart. Adeline remembered everything Peter had ever liked to eat or drink and had put it all on the list, planning to send him home with a CARE package. Kate ate very little because she wanted to stay thin, and although she always very politely took cookies home, Emily was sure she gave them away.
    Emily was sort of sorry both her children were coming to dinner on the same night, because when they were together they seemed to have secrets from which she and Ken were excluded. Elusive, smoky-voiced Kate, whose eyes held you at a distance … Emily had often wondered who, if anyone, was ever let into Kate’s world, except for Peter, and she wasn’t even sure about him. Peter was unfailingly polite and respectful to his parents because he felt that was the way one should be. It had little to do with feelings. Sometimes Emily wondered if he had any feelings at all, so deeply were they hidden. He refused to admit fear or vulnerability or even doubt of any kind. If he asked you a question, and he asked many, it was to learn. He was careful to tell you often that he wanted to learn as much as possible. He wanted to learn so that he could become a success. Neither Kate nor Peter ever touched their mother if they could help it; they never kissed her. They of course allowed her to hug and kiss them if she wished to. That was the only polite way to treat one’s mother. But they slapped each other on the back, they laughed and winked and cast each other shorthand looks covering a whole life from which other people were excluded. They were like two children who had to hold on to each other to keep from drowning.…
    Two little wet heads, sleek as baby seals, bobbing above the surface of the water. A turquoise swimming pool … bare little tan arms, the bright orange life jackets locked away in the utility closet …
    And a mother who never came when Kate screamed …
    Emily cleared the visions from her mind and marched determinedly across the underground parking lot, pushing her heavy grocery cart. Tonight there would be a delicious dinner, and everyone would have a really nice time. All of that was a long time ago, when she was almost a child herself. Maybe they didn’t even remember.
    How could they not remember? Kate had been the one who told Ken. And then Ken had gotten a baby-sitter and driven Emily to the mental hospital and made her sign herself in. The children certainly remembered she had left them; she’d been gone six months. After that Emily had been so busy with her own problems, trying to get well, that it had never occurred to her to find out if what had happened had really hurt them. She’d been so busy being a good mother, driving Kate and Peter to the events of a crowded Southern California day; school, lessons, social life, sports—and trying to work out with her analyst why she still resented them, until she didn’t resent them at all, not a shred of resentment remained.
    Except for those few moments when she realized they had their whole lives ahead of them and hers was over. And that they were so much braver than she had ever been.
    Back home, Adeline helped Emily unload the car. “God, it’s hot,” Emily said.
    “Sure is. I can’t stand the heat.”
    In the kitchen Emily drank a can of artificially sweetened iced tea and glanced through the mail while Adeline finished putting the groceries away. She didn’t know why she always felt she had to stay in Adeline’s presence, instead of having the tea by the pool or in her room; but something, that same unnamed guilt perhaps, made her follow Adeline around, trying to get on her good side.
    “I forgot to