Эд Макбейн - Mothers and Daughters

It did not begin.

Because Amanda knew.

Because she knew suddenly, or perhaps she had known all along, she knew as the argument with Matthew mounted, she knew as she tried to control her rising rage, knew as she felt her hands tightening, knew when her fury finally exploded against his cheek, knew that she would never, never finish the composition.

And, knowing this, was dead.

And sat dead at the piano and looked at the keyboard in despair. And knew it was false, all the years of false work on it, knew she would never finish it and never wanted to finish it, and sat dead inside because now there was nothing. Now there was nothing to hope for. And knew. Knew it wasn’t really very good, never had been any good, knew she would never be satisfied with it, and knew it would always be unfinished. Like her life.

Unfinished and incomplete.

And she didn’t know why.

But she sat dead at the piano and wondered what she needed, and hated Matthew for having made her realize suddenly she would not finish the suite. Lifelessly, she stared at the unresponsive keys, and wondered what was to become of her. And wished that her son were here with her, wished she had not sent him visiting today of all days when she needed visual proof that she had at least accomplished something in her lifetime. But she was alone.

In a little while, the rain stopped.

Kate was still in her nightgown when she came downstairs later that afternoon. She walked into the living room cautiously, almost as if she expected what was about to come. Amanda was sitting in an easy chair near the window, her face in calm repose. The sky beyond and outside had been torn apart by the wind. Tatters of clouds streaked the horizon, blue patches showed spasmodically, the day was indecisive, lacking the clean look or smell that usually follows a furious storm. The house was very still. Amanda sat in the chair and stared across the room at the piano, large and black in the opposite corner, silent.

“Mom?” Kate said.

Amanda looked up.

“Are you all right, Mom?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Dad back yet?”

“No.”

Kate took a chair alongside her mother’s and pulled her legs up under her.

“I can see through that nightgown,” Amanda said. “Don’t you think you should wear a, robe around the house?”

“Well, there’s just the two of—”

“Put on a robe,” Amanda said.

“I’ll be getting dressed in a few minutes,” Kate said.

Amanda nodded once, briefly. She didn’t seem angry at all, or even irritated. Her face was absolutely calm. Kate looked at her face and tried to remember if it had always looked so calm, so... so lifeless. Suddenly, she could not remember.

“I wish the weather would make up its mind,” she said.

“Why?” Amanda asked. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Well, I have a date tonight, but that isn’t—”

“I thought you might be rushing off somewhere,” Amanda said.

“No. No.”

The room was silent again.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about you, Kate,” Amanda said.

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes.” Amanda nodded. “What do you plan to do in the fall, daughter?” she said.

The word sounded strange to Kate’s ear, the word “daughter” delivered in such a curiously cold way. She didn’t answer for a moment.

Then she said, “Well, we’ve already talked about this, Mom.”

“Yes, I know we have. But it wouldn’t hurt to—”

“I’m going to get a job somewhere,” Kate said.

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll see about going to college.”

“You should go to college, Kate.”

“Maybe I will. I’m just not sure yet.”

“You should go,” Amanda repeated.

“Mom, I’m not sure I want to go. Maybe all I want to do is get married and have children and—”

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this European trip,” Amanda said. “You haven’t had time to think of anything else. Agnes has been accepted by three colleges, do you know that?”

“Well, Mom, she knows what she wants to do. I just don’t.”

“You should know by now. You’re almost eighteen, daughter.”

The word “daughter” again, curiously rankling, and a sudden wall between them, so that Kate felt they weren’t really talking to each other, they were simply hurling words and sentences that neither understood nor cared to understand. In that instant, she decided she should leave the living room. She began to rise, but Amanda’s words stopped her.

“What do you expect to do, daughter?” she asked. “With your life?”

“I’m getting a job in the fall. I already told you...”

“I see.”

“I thought you knew that.”

“Yes, I knew.”

“Well... that’s what my plans are. For now.”

She frowned, confused. She didn’t wish to seem solicitous, and yet she suddenly felt that perhaps she’d overestimated her mother’s intelligence. Perhaps her mother hadn’t really understood the first time they’d discussed all this. “When I get back from Europe, I’ll begin looking,” she said.

“Yes, I understand,” Amanda said.

“Well,” Kate said, and she shrugged, but the frown remained on her forehead. She sat in silence and thought, Why do I have to know what I’m going to do with my life? I’m going to take a job. Isn’t that enough for now?

“What kind of job do you want, Kate?”

“You know,” Kate shrugged.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Receptionist. Something like that.”

“I see. In New York?”

“Yes. Mom, we’ve already—”

“I see.”

The room was silent. Amanda kept staring at the piano.

“Kate,” she said, “I want you to go to college.”

“Well, maybe I will. After I—”

“I want you to go this fall. When you return from abroad.”

“I don’t think I want to do that, Mom.”

“I don’t think this is a question of what you want to do,” Amanda said. “This is a question of what’s best for you.”

“Well, I think it’s best for me to get a job and—”

“Yes, and what makes you think that’ll be enough?” Amanda asked, leaning toward her. “What do you hope to be, Kate? A wife, Kate? A mother, Kate?”

Again, she felt a rage inside her, a rage at the way her mother was using her name, Kate, Kate, like a battering ram, Kate, Kate. “Well... well, wh... what’s wrong with that?” she asked.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Kate, and bright, and it’s wonderful for a young girl to be going abroad, but if you don’t mind my saying so, I’m being perfectly honest with you, I think you’re going to need more than a husband and a houseful of children.”

“Well, I’m... I’m not getting married right this... this minute. I mean, I’m only seven—”

“Yes, but it seems wasteful to me, Kate... oh, not that working in New York wouldn’t have a certain amount of glamour and value, I suppose... but I’d hate to see you wasting six months of your life, perhaps a year, when you could be preparing for something important in that time. You could go to school right here in Talmadge, you know. There wouldn’t be any real reason for leaving Talmadge. Your grades are good, Kate. I’m sure if you applied even now—”

“Yes, but that’s not what I want,” Kate said, somewhat dazed. “I may go to college later, but right now I want to find a job.”

“Yes, I understand, dear,” Amanda said.

“Well, that’s all there is to it then.”

“I think you should ask yourself, Kate, what you want to become.”

“I...”

“You’re old enough now to be thinking of the future, daughter.”

Kate nodded and said nothing.