Eve

I knew everything couldn't be perfect, but I'd told myself it would be. I wanted to correct all the things that had gone wrong in our family. I wanted the ghosts to be exorcised. I wanted it for the children first and foremost. I'd always longed to give them the perfect home life. I wanted it for Jeff too, even though he might not have recognized it as something missing in his life; he was getting older and if he didn't make a connection with his children soon, it would be too late. Of course, I imagined it for myself. Not Ozzy and Harriet. Not the Brady bunch. But we'd all been closer; we were family. The times I'd spent with my closest friend Joan's family made me long for something similar. Of course I knew about the problems Joan had with her own mother. Still, Joanie, her children, her husband...their love for each other, they're belonging to each other was a visible fact. The only child—it seemed to me—that enjoyed a true relationship to both Jeff and myself was Jeffery. Clara and Charlie had been wounded by our family's past. It was an ugly past. At one time, I'd thought of it as passion, even—as much as I loathed to admit it—even the violence. When Jeff and I got back together after eight years apart, I'd taken his past cruelties and dressed them in a web of lies. I'd convinced myself it had been passion that was responsible for the violence.

Jeffery and Charlotte were the first to arrive. They'd flown in two days before Christmas so I got to give them my undivided attention. Their flight from Boston didn't leave until 3:00 in the afternoon. It was nearly 7:00 when they arrived. I'd told they I'd pick them up at the airport but Jeffery insisted it was just as easy for them to take a cab. That way if their flight was late, I wouldn't have to wait at the airport. I wouldn't have minded.

I saw the lights of the taxi as it pulled into the driveway. I ran to the door and stood on the porch as I watched them exit the cab. Charlotte was thin and tall. I could see she had long hair. She was wearing jeans and a leather jacket. Her long hair hung down over the dark coat. She stepped back as Jeffery walked around the car and took her hand. Jeffery waved and I was so happy to see them both coming into the house. As soon as Charlotte met me at the porch, I knew she was the girl Jeffery would marry. I already loved her like a daughter. I'd always been someone to take people into my heart. I'd done the same with Charlie's wife, Peggy. Although very different than Charlotte Peggy became a daughter to me too. We were close from the beginning. And, when Peggy had my two grandchildren, I loved her even more. Charlotte stepped on the porch and smiled at me before giving me a hug.

"Hello sweetheart." I said as I pulled away.

"It's very nice to meet you Mrs. Lambert. Jeffery's told me so much about you. Thank you for inviting me to spend Christmas with you."

When we pulled away, I said "you're so lovely, Charlotte. Welcome." I took her hand and led her into the house.

Jeffery came over and kissed me on the cheek. "Hi mom."

After the kids went upstairs and changed clothes, they came down and I fixed them sandwiches and sodas. I suggested to Charlotte that we look at family photographs so she could see Jeffery as a child, his childhood.

Jeffery raised his eyebrows and looked a little embarrassed.

"Would you like to do it another time, darling?" I asked him, but as I did Charlotte turned to him and put her hand on his arm. "You don't mind do you?" she asked. She was so pretty and sweet. I watched her and Jeffery simultaneously. Her long dark blonde hair hung down over her paisley shirt, lavenders and green that brought out her emerald eye color. Jeffery looked helpless, it seemed to me she could ask him anything and he would oblige. I'd seen him with other girls, of course. In high school he dated a girl named Susan for over a year. They had a sweetness too, but not a deep, indelible love. The kind that was so tenuous that, as a mother, I almost didn't want it for my son. Heartbreak would be so devastating. At the same time, of course I wanted it for him.

"It's up to you kids. Can I get you something else? A coffee while you decide."

"Mom, the pictures are fine. It will be fun."

Charlotte looked back at me, smiling. Her eyes were full of light and life. She shrugged "Ok. Can't I help you bring them down, Mrs. Lambert."

That would be helpful, Charlotte. Thank you." As we walked up the stairs I put my arm around her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you're here sweetheart."

"Me too." She said.

We sat for over an hour looking at family albums and boxes of old pictures. I think Charlotte was even more taken with Jeffery after seeing him as a baby. He was a sweet, handsome child.

"You were so adorable," Charlotte held a picture of Jeffery and Charlie when they were about five and four. Just about when we moved to Chicago and I'd married Jeff.

"Let me see darling," I said to Charlotte. She handed me the picture. I inspected it then put it back on the table so she could see it. "Do you see how Jeffery is looking at Charlie? He always thought Charlie was God and often paid dearly for it."

"He was pretty cruel wasn't he?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know about cruel."

I picked up another photograph. It was of me and our first nanny, Elise. She looked so young and so did I.

"Is that you, Mrs. Lambert?" Charlotte asked. When she looked at me her green eyes sparkled. I could tell she was enjoying getting to know more about Jeffery.

"Yes. We had this incredible estate out in the country back then. Do you remember it Jeffery?"

"Not really. Let me see." Charlotte handed him the picture. "Maybe."

"You weren't so young. You were almost seven when we moved here. You should remember."

Jeffery shrugged his shoulders and motioned with his hands. "I don't know. I don't."

"We were out in the yard. Clara made the boys put on shows with her. Charlie hated it. You were so sweet, darling. You put up with them both."

"Mrs. Lambert, you look like a movie star here." She held another picture. It was actually my wedding picture. You wouldn't have known by looking at it because Jeff and I only went to the courthouse. I remember the dress, it was a taupe silk and chiffon. I had made it myself back in Oregon where Charlie and I lived until he was four. We had to move in with an older couple because I had no place to go being pregnant. Back then it was much worse for a woman to be pregnant outside of marriage and with a married man's baby no less.

I studied the picture for a moment. "That's so nice of you, Charlotte. I wish I had been half as pretty as you are."

Charlotte looked down, embarrassed. Jeff seemed to instinctively want to make her feel comfortable again. He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it gently.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," I didn't mean to embarrass you.

I heard the front door open. "I think Mr. Lambert is back from work." I said and saw a quick moment of judgment in Jeffery's eye. Back from work at eight o'clock at night was simply a euphemism for his father coming home after being with another woman.

"Stop," I whispered to Jeffery. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

I got up from the table and walked into the living room. Jeff entered and I took his coat for him. "Darling, Jeffery and Charlotte are here. They got in this afternoon." I hung his coat up and then walked over to him. I peered into the other room and saw them engaged in a private conversation.

"Where were you?" I whispered.

"I was working."

I shook my head and looked down. He took my hand and we walked further into the front room where we were out of sight.

"You didn't have to today." I said, "We both know it. I wanted you here with us." I usually didn't care but I could feel myself starting to cry. It was because I wanted him to be with our family this holiday. It was the first time in a long time that all three children would be home.

"Don't cry," he said softly. He lifted my chin and looked in my eyes. "Don't cry. I was just working."

I bit my lip and nodded. He moved closer to me and touched my hair. Then he put his hand on my cheek before he leaned forward and kissed me. There was something about the arrangement that caused a passion to flare. I hated myself for the pattern of hurt and desire. Perhaps it had just been that way so long. Or, maybe it was part of the sexual revolution that had seeped into my subconscious. Maybe it was like what swingers do. Except it was only him doing it and he'd done this our whole relationship. He touched my cheek then softly touché my neck. He kept his eyes on me.

"Don't" I whispered and shook my head.

He kissed me again. "You look beautiful. Don't be upset with. Not tonight. Let's enjoy our family. Why don't we take the kids out? Downtown?"

"It's late. I've already made them something for dinner."

"Well we'll drive downtown and show them the skyline. All right?"

I nodded. I looked at him for a moment. Then I moved to him and kissed him.

That night when we got into our room, I went into the bathroom and changed into a silk night gown. I brushed my hair and stared at myself a moment. I wondered if he really thought I was beautiful or if it was part of the dance we did together. Pulling away, hurting, drawing back in, yearning. All of it. Was it just what he told me to seduce me back into his favor? Or, could he still see the innocent, gullible girl I had been thirty years before? I still saw the same man he had been. And the very things I hated about him were the things I wanted. Not the affairs. Certainly not the violence in the past. But the strength and confidence. I wanted the words he said to me. Once we began our affair when I was only twenty four, it seemed he'd drawn out a need in me. It was a hunger for his idealization. I always wanted to know what he was like with other women just to confirm that a part of what he told me was the truth. If it had been the same as with me, the spell would be broken, but he swore it wasn't.

When I came into the room, he was sitting on the small couch by the picture window. It had begun to snow since we'd been back and the falling flakes under the street lamp a little ways away looked like something magic. It caused an unidentifiable yearning. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking scotch. I sat down on the settee next to him.

"You look pretty," he remarked. "Do you want a drink?"

I shook my head. "No--Isn't Charlotte lovely?"

He seemed preoccupied. "She is."

"Do you ever think that Jeffery is the only one of us who turned out all right?"

"What a thing to say, Eve." He swallowed down the rest of his scotch and snuffed out his cigarette. He turned to me and moved closer.

I smiled at him and bit my lip. "What are you doing?

He kissed my neck and I let out a sharp breath. "You see how disturbed we are?" I said, "we are, aren't we?"

He wasn't listening. He moved his hand over my silk night gown, caressing my back and over my breasts. He moved my hair and kissed my neck again. He moved his hand up and touched my hair. He pulled away from me.

"You always make love to me, Eve. I don't think you've ever said no to me." His eyes were fixed on mine.

"Of course I have." I said.

"No. I don't think you ever have."

"Well maybe I should tonight. There's a first time for everything."

"Too late." His eyes were intent. He touched my neck and then his hands moved over my body again. I held my breath and closed my eyes. I exhaled. I moved towards him and kissed him.

"Let's go to bed," he whispered. "I love you, Eve."

After he undressed, he got into bed with me. I touched his face. "I want you to make love to me the way you make love to other women." I was serious. I wasn't sure how the thought had come to me, but I had always wanted to know.

He pulled away. "Jesus, Eve. Why would you say something like that?"

I moved and softly kissed his lips so he'd know I wasn't attacking him. "Really. I'm being serious. I want to know."

"It seems like an admission of guilt if I were to."

"only if you see it that way. You can't pretend just for tonight? You can't pretend I'm one of your other women?"

His eyes filled with an unfamiliar look. His expression grew serious. "you really want me to Eve?"

I felt myself shudder. Suddenly it turned into something else. I suppose it was the change in him from intimate to physical. I felt my heart race with a kind of fear. It was a comfortable fear, but unsettling none the less. I nodded. "I want to know."

At that he changed completely. He didn't kiss me or touch my face. He wasn't trying to seduce me, he didn't tell me I was the only one he loved. He didn't withhold, waiting for me to say I loved him too. I felt as if he was taking me, not trying to convince me. When he made love to me it was full of hunger and almost anger. At one point I looked away. I felt myself crying. I didn't know why. It wasn't the thought of him with another woman. It was the intensity of the act. It was overtaking me. Almost too much. When he noticed I was crying, he turned my face to him, his expression didn't change. He frightened me, there was no love or understanding. He kissed me passionately. He continued to touch me without asking me if I was all right. The way he treated me felt more like power and anger than intimacy. Afterwards, I felt myself trembling. I thought we were finished but he was breathing heavily against my skin, kissing my shoulder. He moved his hand over my stomach and then down. As he touched me, caressed me he kept his eyes on me.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"Shh." He said. He kissed my shoulder and then my neck. I felt myself release. I took deep breaths and let them out. I was both self-conscious and unable to control my body. Afterwards I felt too embarrassed to look at him for a few moments. He didn't notice at first, he lay next to me and traced my stomach with his finger.

"Is that how it is?" I whispered.

"Yes" he kissed my cheek, "that's how it is."

"oh."

"You see the difference? You see how much I love you and need you? You're not like that to me."

I didn't see it. I didn't know what I saw or felt. Finally I looked at him.

"What is it?" he asked. His affection and compassion for me had returned. "What are you thinking, Eve?"

"Do you remember before our marriage ended... you thought I was having an affair? That was what caused so much rage in you? That's when you really began to hurt me. Do you remember?"

"Don't" he whispered kissing my shoulder. "Every time we share something exceptional, you have to do this. I'm not violent with you Eve. Back then our marriage was hell. That was more than 15 years ago."

"I'm not bringing up the violence."

"Well then, what are you bringing up?"

"Do you remember before the night at the lake,  how sick you were and you thought I'd put something in your food. It was a terrible time. You'd beaten me so much and wouldn't let me leave you. You wouldn't let me see any of our friends and you'd plainly chosen the girl you were seeing over me. You had no remorse. You were sure I'd had an affair. You were sure I'd poisoned you—even the doctor wondered whether I had? Then, the night at the lake. You were going to kill me. You followed me down to the water. You said you were going to drown me because you thought I was having an affair. You were sure I was sleeping with someone and you said if I was you'd kill me. You found evidence—a man's glove I think."

"Why are you doing Eve?"

"I did have an affair." I said. He sat up and leaned against the headboard. I sat up next to him. I was facing him, keeping my voice steady and calm. "I slept with Ed." His expression changed. I didn't know if it was anger, hurt or disbelief. Maybe it was all three. Ed was and continued to be his closest friend. He'd known Ed longer than he'd known me, going on thirty years. They still went for drinks several times a week. We'd gone away with Ed and his wife Elizabeth on vacations. Ed's subtle flirtation with me had never waned but had moved squarely into acceptable.

"What are you talking about Eve?" His speech was measured. He kept his voice low.

"It wasn't once, Jeff. It went on for months. While you and I were married. In the guest cottage. Ed would come over while you were in your studio or out with that student you were sleeping with. I'd lay in bed with him naked, all afternoon sometimes. There were so many afternoons that Ed and I made love just right there  in the guest house. Even at his wedding he teased me. He said he wished he had whisked me away after I left you. Wouldn't that have been something?"

"Are you fucking joking?" he asked. I knew if anything would have caused him to hit me again it would be that. I also knew he'd never do it with our grown child in the house.

"No I'm not kidding. I'm perfectly serious."

He shook his head. He looked so hurt I almost regretted telling him.

"And, Jeff." He looked up at me again, "I did poison you. I didn't want to kill you. I wanted to leave you before you killed me."

He shook his head. "You make me sick." He got out of bed. "If it's true—about Ed-- I'll never touch you again. Do you understand me Eve? I will never touch you again."

He sounded like I used to sound.

I didn't say anything.

He glared at me. "Why do you hate me so much Eve? I've given you what you wanted. I've provided for you and our children." He started putting his clothes on. "You know how much I love you. Jesus Eve I've been madly in love with you all these years. You've always known that but you're such a liar, blaming me for everything." He looked at his hand. "you don't even wear my fucking wedding ring." He took his off and threw it across the room.

"Those are the same words I've said to you over the years. No one would offer you sympathy after all the affairs you've had. So what if  I slept with your friend."

"Shut up Eve."

He put on his socks and shoes, picked up his keys off the dresser. He started out of the room but turned back. "Aren't you going to ask me where I'm going?"

"I don't care." I said, lighting a cigarette.

"I'm going to Ed's right now."

I shrugged my shoulders. Ed was worse than Jeff. So Jeff would wake Ed up two days before Christmas, barge into his home and insist on confronting him. I imagined Elizabeth getting up, putting on some expensive robe and standing beside Ed bewildered as Jeff said what he needed to say. I imagined all of it and for whatever reason, in that moment, I didn't care.

"Merry fucking Christmas." He said and stormed out.