You Don’t See Me - 6. Chapter 6

“Leave confrontation to the lost souls on Jerry Springer.

In our family, we suffer in dignified silence.”

Eloise

Eloise had snapped at Guadalupe and cut her finger on a rose thorn, all in one morning. It was an uncharacteristic loss of control for the usually calm and collected mom. She tried to keep her focus on the tasks at hand, but she couldn’t help the feeling of frustration scratching away at her brain. Patrick wasn’t answering his phone, and she worried that her words of wisdom had been lost on unreceptive ears. She wondered if perhaps she had babied him too much, what else could explain his complete lack of common sense? Someone from her generation of women-made-of-steel couldn’t understand—couldn’t even for one second fathom—the constant moping around and whimpering for attention from a spouse whose eyes were wandering in other directions. How did she manage to raise a son so weak? She finished her floral arrangement, then decided to re-clean the already pristine refrigerator, just to give herself something to do. She didn’t want to “meddle”, as Patrick loved to call it, of course she didn’t. But when she saw the obvious glaring issues her son was facing, as well as the very simple solutions that could fix everything, how could she not intervene and help her favorite child?

It boggled her mind that he couldn’t just take her advice and do what was necessary in the current situation—look the other way while working on himself, instead of slowly imploding his marriage. How come he had to be such an emotional cry baby about everything? Men cheated, so what. It wasn’t the end of the world. The important thing was to figure out how to keep it all together, and not let all the hard work go to waste. Not allow things to fall apart, leaving him with absolutely nothing. If Patrick could just get over his misguided ideas of love, he might lose some weight and get his marriage together. Yes, she decided she would talk to him once again, and find a way to convince him of what he should do before his marriage was on its last gasp of breath. It wasn’t meddling, mothers simply knew best.

She got into her Mercedes and hit the road. When she arrived and typed in the usual codes before entering the big house, she was shocked to find Patrick sprawled out on the living room couch. An empty wine glass nearby, a bottle of her pills alongside crackers with brie cheese on the table. The sight made her stomach turn. She briskly walked into the kitchen, poured a glass of ice cold water, then walked back to her son and emptied it all over his peacefully sleeping face. He immediately shot up in shock, the cold water electrifying his system.

“What the hell!” he yelled out, as she stood calmly staring at him.

“Isn’t your husband coming back today? What in the world possessed you to lay here like a drunken slob? It’s almost noon.”

“What are you doing here, mo-th-er?” he asked, enunciating it as if it were a dirty word. Breaking it down into something unknown, instead of something warm and nurturing.

“What am I doing here? I’m trying to save your marriage,” she replied. “Have you called that therapist whose number I gave you?” He sighed then walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a hand towel to dry off his wet face.

“Not yet,” he replied, still grumpy. “I can’t believe you just did that,” he muttered to himself.

“And what exactly are you waiting for?” She asked and he scoffed.

“I don’t know, divine intervention. A sign. Inspiration. Something that would make me think this marriage is even worth fighting for.” She grabbed the hand towel from him, then smacked him in the face.

“What the…what is your problem!” he shouted once again.

“You sound truly pathetic, Patrick William Harrison. This is not how daddy and I raised you. Go take a damn shower before I speak with you. If I came in and saw you like this, I’d divorce you on the spot,” she spat out. “Go!” she shouted when he didn’t move. He sighed, irritated, but finally moved towards the bathroom.

Eloise picked up the food and wine and threw it in the trash. She then rinsed off the wine glass, cleaned the table, and shooed Silk and Satin off the couch. Afterwards, she opened the fridge and pulled out a cucumber, cutting up two slices. When Patrick came out of the shower, she dragged him to the couch, pulled his head in her lap and placed the cucumber slices on his puffy red eyes. And with a cold wet cloth, she gently massaged his forehead and the rest of his face.

“Marriage isn’t easy. Understanding another human being doesn’t come with instructions, as much as you wish it did. But self-destruction isn’t going to lead you anywhere. Remember anytime your daddy would go to work, even if I had spent the entire day in sweatpants, an hour before he would come back I’d shower, put on nice clothes, makeup and perfume. Presentation matters, honey. Even if you’re married for 20 years. Even if you’re comfortable. As a matter of fact, especially if you’re comfortable! Nobody is going to fancy you just because they love you. Attraction doesn’t come from obligation. Love can last, but attraction can fade if you let yourself go.” Patrick sighed, his body tense.

“You make it sound like my eating and feeling miserable had led to…you know what, and not the other way around,” he complained.

“No, I’m saying you’re not helping yourself get out of the situation with your response. Everything in life comes down to how you respond to it. You can make a win out of any loss, you just need to have the correct response. Giving in to misery for more than a few hours is not the correct response.”

“Well, I was thinking I might confront him when he gets back. Get everything out in the open.”

“Confront him? Leave confrontation to the lost souls on Jerry Springer. In our family, we suffer in dignified silence.”

“Ahh yes, your passive aggressive tactics have worked wonders on dad,” Patrick replied sarcastically, making a rapid head movement that almost knocked off his cucumber slices, but Eloise held his head firmly in place.

“Haven’t they? We’re still together, after all these years. We gave you two a beautiful and stable home. What else do you want? This unattainable happiness that you seek, it doesn’t exist Patrick. There is only this, and playing your cards right.”

“Surely a happy marriage rests on good communication,” he countered, exasperated with her know-it-all attitude.

“Says who? Divorced people and single therapists. A happy marriage rests on turning a blind eye to many things and knowing how to pick your battles. Trust me, this here is not a hill you want to die on. This…this is nothing. You still have all the cards, you have everything. The house, the husband, the dream vacations, access to his bank accounts. What are you going to have if you leave? Of course you can work for daddy, but let’s face it you’re pretty accustomed to an easy going lifestyle. You are not going to like having to support yourself. And if you think Ford is bad, just wait until you get out onto the dating scene at 35 as a gay man who’s divorced. Don’t get me wrong, I love you more than life, but trust me, you’re not going to have men knocking down your door sweetheart,” she said and he took off one of the cucumber slices and gave her a pointed look.

“You know what, I’m not even insulted. I’m so used to your cold and cruel language, that this isn’t even shocking,” he said, and laughed. “It’s because of you that I’m like this,” he went on. “I’ve been doing all these evil things because I can’t open my mouth and let him know he’s hurt me. Because I’ve never seen you do that. You’ve always just swept everything under the carpet. Let it eat you up from the inside,” he said emotionally, as she patted his head with the wet cloth trying to appease him, then took off the cucumber slices and looked him in the eyes.

“When it comes to marriage, I know what I’m talking about my dear. Now get up, get dressed in something nice, and cook your husband dinner before he gets home. Plaster a smile on your face, and pretend you’re extremely intrigued with every detail of his business trip to Miami. Then take care of business in the bedroom, of course. Tomorrow morning, get up before him and go work out. Sign up for a class with Chloe. Go get a facial. Get out of this house and out of your damn feelings, and the man you know and love will return to you, because he’s already yours,” she said so convincingly that anyone would have believed her. He nodded slowly then stood up, and she smiled as she heard his feet pattering upstairs into his bedroom closet.

“Oh and hun, I’m leaving you a business card on the table!” she called out. “It’s this gorgeous young man I met at the nail salon. An aspiring actor, he wanted me to connect him with Ford but between you and I, that’s not a good idea. But I think you should give him a call and spend some time with him. He could teach you a thing or two about looking good!” She pulled out Jude’s business card and placed it on the kitchen island feeling extremely satisfied with herself. What would the world be like without caring mothers, she thought to herself as she walked out.