Chapter 48 #3
It was obvious the question had yanked Pearce from some parallel universe, of which he was the center, into the present reality, where he was only one of the group.
To be answered, the question would require at least some measure of humanity, some degree of introspection, and some reawakening of memory.
Theo had, in effect, fired a poison dart at the heart of Pearce’s self-obsession.
Others at the table, especially family members, waited with total attention, eyes fixed on Pearce, as he stumbled toward an answer. Even Asher and Brooke weren’t sure what he might say or how he felt about his mother.
“She was a nice woman,” he said finally, followed by a long pause, a shrug, and a tilt of the head.
“She was, I mean, hell, I guess you’d say she was a good mother.
She had a favorite son, for sure. He was the golden boy, and I was the rebel.
” Pearce nodded toward Asher. No one laughed. Asher offered no reply.
Theo, however, nodded toward a framed photograph on a sideboard near the table. “Is, uh, is that her in the picture?” The woman in the picture was looking directly into the camera — smiling countenance, gentle self-assuredness, steady eyes. She was holding two little boys, one in each arm.
“Yeah. That’s her. Long time ago. We were just little kids.”
“Which one is you?”
“The one on her right.”
“It looks from here like she loved the two little boys just the same.”
It was a daring statement to make, being as it was a direct challenge to Pearce’s previous assertion about his mother’s favoritism.
“Well, it didn’t feel like it. And there’s no doubt she adored her little artist. She was a nice lady, but I don’t think she really understood the value of things.”
Before Peare could say anything further, Theo broke in. “That, uh, that is a most interesting phrase, ‘the value of things.’ What do you mean by that? Where does one go to learn the value of things?”
Pearce snorted with impatience and disdain. When he finally spoke, the words reeked of condescension. “What is this, twenty questions? You’re kidding, aren’t you? Everybody knows the value…”
Pearce’s phone buzzed. He reached for it eagerly, relieved that the inquisition had been interrupted. He raised his left hand, index finger pointing upward, as if to signal, “Hold on. This is important.”
The others listened in. They had no choice.
Pearce rolled his eyes in disgust. “You’ve got to be kidding me!… How did it happen?… What the hell? You damn well better have insurance on your crew. I’ll be right there.”
Pearce finished the call. He held up his hands in mock exasperation as though he hated that he must leave such good company. Once again, he scraped his chair noisily away from the table, rose, and turned to leave without a word of thanks or good wishes. He never acknowledged his daughter.
The front door closed loudly behind him.
What followed was an awkward silence and a collective sigh of relief, as if a cactus had just left a room full of balloons.
Asher broke the silence. “Y’all, I’m so sorry. I don’t really know what to say. That’s just the way Pearce is. We had hoped for a better version of him to show up this evening, but what you got, I’m afraid, was typical Pearce.”
Theo replied promptly, even cheerfully. “Well, nothing at all took away from the most delicious Thanksgiving meal I have ever had in my life. Here’s to Brooke, the chef, and to Minnette, the sous-chef.”
He raised his glass, arched his eyebrows, and looked at Minnette, whose expression brimmed with weariness and hurt. Everyone joined the toast and tried to pretend that Pearce had never been in the room.
When glasses were returned to the table, Brooke announced dessert. “Maybe we can get some sweetness back into the evening.”
Plates were served and coffee poured. Theo turned to Minnette. “So, Minnette, same question to you. Pick up where your father left off. What was your grandmother like? What did she value?”
Conversation, congenial this time and steeped in praise of Gammy, continued until more than one pair of eyes showed signs of drowsiness.
Asher finally thanked everyone for joining them, insisted over the objection of willing volunteers that he would clean the kitchen, and turned on porch lights for safe passage down the front steps.
Theo touched a palm to Brooke’s cheek as he repeated his gratitude for her hospitality. He did the same with Minnette. He told Trina how happy he was to finally meet her and expressed his hope that they might visit again sometime soon.
“There is a fine musician who performs on the sidewalk where I live. Maybe you could meet me there one night to hear him sing and play. If he does a really good job, we’ll leave him a big tip.”
She kissed his cheek again.
Theo and Simone left Glissen House and walked down South Broadway together. When they reached the music school, they parted ways, Theo to continue home and Simone to retrieve his cello before doing the same.
As he walked up the stairs to the apartment, Theo heard Christmas carols in the distance, amplified down the Promenade from one of the few bars open for business that night. He turned to look at the river and the lights on the western shore.