The Face In The Mirror (20 page)

As I lowered your veil to send you on your way to your father, and Derek
escorted me to my seat, I suddenly felt lost. Selfish-me wondered, ‘Who will I be
now?’ And I prayed that you would still need your mama.

When I rose to see you begin your path down the aisle to begin your life with
Mitchell, I saw a beautiful woman, not my little girl. You looked like an
angel. Your dress was perfect for your tall, thin frame. Your strawberry-blonde
hair was pulled up in a perfect style to show your face, to show the glow that
Mitchell put there. And as you approached, Granny took my hand and
whispered to me how beautiful and happy you looked. I had to blink my eyes
to keep my tears away.

But she was right. I couldn’t imagine you ever being more beautiful. And
then… oh my goodness, Renee, I prayed that you saw what I saw when I
looked at Mitchell. A man in a suit is classic, a man in a tuxedo is stylish
and elegant - but it was the look on his face. It was full of love, and I knew
once more, that you were beginning a life with the man you were destined to be
with.

I fought hard with myself not to cry. Mitchell marked the page, and closed
the book. He put it aside and pulled me closer.
“I didn’t see it.”
“See what, love?” he asked.
“The look on your face, I couldn’t focus on you, I would have cried. I only
saw Ashley standing there as my maid of honor, waiting. I couldn’t look at
you,” I said.
“You did, you have, and you will,” he said and I turned to look at him.
I saw it then. I saw love on his face and I thanked God, again, for
mulligans.

Roxanne called the week before Thanksgiving to invite us for the holiday
meal. I was home, working on recipe ideas, when the phone rang. I didn’t
recognize the number so I answered it. Note to self – VOICEMAIL!

“Hello, Renee. Your father said to call and invite you and your husband to
The Manor for dinner. Chef Ben from LaVilla Roma is coming to prepare a
feast,” she said in tone just shy of bragging, “So, I just know it’ll be
scrumptious, and it’s Rowena’s first Thanksgiving. Wayne said he really wants
you and your husband to come.”

What a personal call
, I thought as she continued. “Your father wants,” “your
husband,” “The Manor,” and I thought about Rowena; she wouldn’t ever
remember whether I was there for her first Thanksgiving or not. As Roxanne
spoke, I listened and realized what it was about her that I didn’t like. Aside
from the fact that she and my father had an affair, she was nothing more than a
debutante wannabe with a redneck pedigree.

And then, suddenly, I felt the devil crawl in my body and take over my
tongue.
“Mitchell, Roxanne. My husband’s name is Mitchell. We already have plans
for the holiday, but thank you for asking
for
my dad,” I replied in a snarky tone.
“He will be disappointed,” she said, but I heard the stupid smile on her
face. She didn’t really want us there.

When Mitchell arrived home that evening I was busy, happily preparing
dinner. I had a devious smile on my face when he came in the kitchen - I could
feel it.

“Oooh, that looks dangerous, should I be scared?” he asked.
“Not. At. All,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I poured us both
a glass of wine. He was patting the place beside him on the sofa, but I sat on
his lap instead.
“I am officially on my dad’s shit-list, probably achieved the top-notch
honors, but who cares…”
“What have you done, now?” he laughed.
“Well, I reckon I hurt sweet Roxanne’s feelings, or that’s what she told my
dad.” I told him about the call earlier and that I’d just hung up with my dad,
right before he came in.
“I haven’t talked to him since the reception, but I always figure the phone
works both ways. When I picked it up and said hello, I could hear the bitchy
bite to his tone.”
“I am disappointed to hear that you have other plans for Thanksgiving,” I
said repeating my dad’s words, deepening my voice as I did to imitate him but
not very well.
“Wait,” Mitchell said, “we have plans for Thanksgiving?”
“Well, we damn sure will
now!
” I laughed. “Anyway, he went on to scold
me and tell me that I shouldn’t have been short with Roxy because she couldn’t
remember your name.”
“Mitchell, Dad. Roxanne kept calling him ‘your husband’,” I told him in
my sweetest voice. “I was just reminding her that my husband’s name is
Mitchell. And by the way, not once, but every time she extended the invitation
she said ‘your father’. Never did she say ‘we’ or ‘I’, it was ‘your father’. How
welcomed would we feel knowing she didn’t really want us there?”
“I see your point. But there was no need to be short or rude with her,” he
said, and then reminded me, “she’s my wife, Renee.”
Mitchell was struggling not to laugh as I shared the conversation, because I
was turning the whole thing back on Roxanne.
“That she is,” I told him, “and I am your daughter and if I’m to treat her as
your wife, she should learn to treat me as your daughter. I gotta go.”
“And as you hung up, off you went with your hand patting your own
back.”
“Yes, I did!” I snickered, devilishly.
“Now what about Thanksgiving?”
“I have no friggin’ clue!” I laughed. “We can invite your mom and Midgey.
Oh, why don’t you ask Dave, and I’ll ask Ashley. I need to call her.”
“Well when you do, you will find that she is practically living with Dave, so
one call should do it!”
I liked this news.

We were into Volume Six and I didn’t like reading this one very much. It
began with her excitement over my life with Mitchell, followed by little snippets
about my dad and my education. And then the last year of our marriage filled
her pages with heartbreak. Mitchell read it; I couldn’t do it.

We would have to stop and talk every once in a while, because I was such a
mess. Mitchell kept saying that we could stop, but it needed to be done. We’d
made a promise to read all of them - in order - and that meant
all
… even the
stuff that was hard to read.

I find myself saying many prayers for you to step back and look at your life
as an outsider. I want you to see that the things you think aren’t good are just
part of being a couple. There is nothing you can’t find your way through
together.

I wish your father would quit saying things like, ‘there’s always a way out’.
I don’t agree. You said the words ‘for better or worse’ and I don’t see worse! I
see a young couple that just needs to sit down and talk, but I don’t think you
hear me. I think you only hear your father. I want you to FIGHT for your
love!

She’d written the word ‘fight’ in big capital letters, as though she was
sending me subliminal messages. That was followed by the words ‘
HE’S
WORTH FIGHTING FOR, RENEE!’
And it broke my heart.

She expressed her heartbreak at seeing us drift away from each other, but it
wasn’t drifting at all. I pushed him away. As he read, I remembered him trying
so hard, but I’d been headstrong and stubborn.

“Close the book, Mitchell. I don’t want to read any more today.”
“Why, Renie? Because she’s right?” he asked, challenging me.
“Don’t piss me off!” I barked, rising from the sofa to pace, thinking about

the beginning of our end.
“I’m not trying to piss you off, sweetheart. You know,” he said, “we’ve
already put all this out in the open. It’s not new news; it’s just your mom’s
feelings about it, Renie.”
“She
was
right! Why didn’t I see it?” I interrupted him.
“Maybe we just needed a couple more years. I should have fought harder,
but let’s not dwell on what we should have done. We said we’d look forward,
see where we are now, and make our plans for the future, together.”
“How stupid I was…”

I loved Renie’s humor, but I loved it most when it was filled with cunning
mischief. The idea that she turned the conversation with her dad around
making Roxy the bad guy made me smile. But I smiled more because she loved
that
she
did it. In the short time we’d been back together, so many memories
had come back to me – memories of us. Some I pushed further away, but some
never left me. As she was talking, the memory of our first Christmas as
husband and wife flashed before my eyes.

“Is there something you want for Christmas that I may not have thought of?” she’d
asked when we’d woken up one morning. “I have some surprises, but if there’s something you
want, I’d like to know.”

We’d just gotten married and the thought of Christmas wasn’t a blip on my radar. All I
wanted was Renie. “Just you,” I’d replied. “I have everything I need with you right here beside
me,” I’d said, and pulled her closer.

On Christmas morning, she’d already been up and out of bed when I woke up. I’d
stayed in bed, waiting, and finally called out to her. “Where in the heck are you?”
“Hang on, I just have to finish wrapping your present! I’ll be right there,” she’d replied,
and I remembered her giggling.
She’d rounded the corner naked, wrapped in red cellophane, barely able to contain her
laughter. “You said I was all you wanted so I had to gift wrap!”
All I’d been able to think of was how long it’d take me to unwrap her.

Everyday brought more plans for Convenient Cuisine. I called Cassie and
we’d gotten together to talk through ideas and options for logos, as well as
ways to get the word out. Some of the things she wanted to focus on were how
to display the vacuum-sealed bags showing the food in an artsy manner. Cut
veggies didn’t seem ‘artsy’ to me in any way so I wasn’t sure how she would
pull this off. She was working on the verbiage, ‘appealing words’ to go with the
before, during and after pictures. She wanted to show the ease of preparation.

With the zoning taken care of, Mitchell was now working on licenses and
codes to make sure we made the proper changes to electrical needs as well as
restroom and handicap access. All that left brain ‘how it works’ crap that was so
far out of my realm of comprehension that it absolutely overwhelmed me. I
was so glad he was helping me.

What I wanted to concentrate on were things like antique looking industrial
stoves and refrigerators. I wanted the décor to look like the era when the house
was built, the late 1930s. I wanted the customers to be wowed with the design
from that time such as gingham curtains and authentic lighting. Cassie
suggested we find kitchen tools and cookware from the time to place on
shelves as part of the theme. I loved working with her on the artsy, right brain
stuff!

“I am getting excited, now,” I told Cassie. “I’m starting to see it all!”
“I’m starting to get hungry!” she laughed, and I realized that it was almost
four in the afternoon and we’d been talking since 1:30 - about nothing but
food!
“I have some scrumptious Brie. I’ll throw it in to bake. I’ll whip up some
blackberry jam and crushed walnuts to top it with, and I know there are water
biscuits in the pantry.”
I looked up to see Cassie watching me. “Wow,” she said.
“Wow?” I laughed.
“I would have whipped out a jar of Jiff and some Ritz crackers and thought
I was preparing a feast, and here you go getting all ‘foodie’ on me,” she replied,
and we both burst into giggles, just as the door opened.
“I like that sound,” Mitchell said, dropping his keys on the counter. “Now
tell me what’s so funny.”
Cassie told him about the conversation as I prepared our snack.
I set the cheese on the table and Mitchell poured us a glass of Muscato
wine that I’d chilled. All of a sudden he said, “Cassie, why don’t you and Chuck
join us for Thanksgiving?”
“Why in the heck didn’t I think of that?” I asked, excitedly.
“You know, Chuck is a nurse and he’s low seniority, so I’m not sure if he’s
working. Oh my gosh, this is sooo good!” she said and I swear I saw her eyes
roll back in her head.
“Well, if he can’t come, will you be home alone?”
“Yes,” she nodded, gingerly wiping her chin.
“Not anymore!” Mitchell said. “You’ll come either way and we’ll bundle up
food for you to take to him when you leave.”
“Oh, what a good idea! I can pack up a big batch of food and send it with
flyers!” I laughed.
“I’ll get busy on the flyers when I get home! Thank you for including us.
I’m looking forward to it. Our families are in Kansas City, and with Chuck’s job
at the hospital being so new we won’t be able to go home until spring.”
“Seems like our family just grew,” I told her.
“I’m happy to be part of this family,” she said, and hugged me before she
went out the door.

The day before Thanksgiving, Ashley came over to help get things ready.
This would make it easier for the next day so we could visit and not be chained
to the stove. I was looking forward to time alone with her to see what was
going on with her and Dave. She was peeling potatoes and I was chopping
celery, onion, water chestnuts and parsley for the stuffing.

“So?”
“So what?” she replied with a big grin.
“So, you and Dave…”
“Have I told you how happy I am that you and Mitchell found each other

again?”
“Because?” I laughed.
“I’d probably never have met Mr. Wonderful if you hadn’t! Oh, Renee, I

think I’m in l…”
“Love?” I interrupted.
“Well maybe that, but I was gonna say LUST!” Her words made me laugh

out loud
“He really is Mr. Wonderful,” she said. “So far I haven’t found a butt-head
bone in his body. Well, there is the…”
“STOP!” I laughed. “I do not need to know about his bones!” and we
roared with laughter as we’d done a million times since we were young.
“He seems like a nice guy. I’ve had a few opportunities to be around him.
Mitchell must think a lot of Dave to go off and leave his livelihood in Dave’s
hands. He always speaks highly of his work ethics, and his people skills,” I told
her.
“You should see all the work he’s done to the house. Speaking of, this is a
great place! I wasn’t here when your mom was alive, but it’s great.”
“We’ve done a lot to change things – rearranging the furniture, painting, so
we don’t see Mom everywhere we look.” I was quiet a moment, and then
added, “Ashley, I miss her so much.”
“I can’t imagine. I can pick up the phone anytime I want and talk to my
mom, and as bad as I don’t want to sometimes, ‘cuz she whines and bitches
about everything, always has, always will,” she laughed, “at least I still can.”
“The first couple of times we came here it was dreadful. I saw her
everywhere I looked; I couldn’t even go in her room. Now it just feels
peaceful.”
“I’m excited about getting started on Convenient Cuisine, and getting in
the kitchen at Granny’s!” I said moving the conversation on to happier
thoughts.
“What an adventure for you!” she said, happily.
“There’s still a lot to do, but Mitchell seems to have plenty of help lined up
when we get ready. He’s still pushing for breakfast, but I just don’t know.”
“Girl, you make the most awesome omelets and the best frigging French
toast I’ve ever tasted!” Ashley said rolling her eyes back in her head, making
‘mmm’ noises. “You know there isn’t any place on that side of town that serves
a heavenly breakfast!”
“Mitchell has it in the license stuff. I’m trying not to think about it until I
have everything lined up for the grab and go meals – that’s my main goal. We
are hoping for mid-March, but I think that’s a push.”
“You can do it!” she said in a bad Rob Schneider impersonation.