Kathleen
One of the people at the top of my “probably should not go see” list is Carolyn Graham-Mathison, and yet here I am, standing on the doorstep of her city townhouse.
A woman I don’t recognize answers the door. Her pressed, conservative black dress gives off the air of the one piece of help Carolyn would keep employed. Yes, she’s a woman who would try to run a household all on her own to prove that she could, but she’s got her limitations like anyone else, and what woman of a certain age wouldn’t want to hire someone to take care of a medium-sized house worth millions of dollars?
That will probably be me someday.
“Could you please tell the mistress that…”
I’m interrupted before I can finish speaking to this sullen woman of about forty-five. Interrupted by a very unsullen woman of about fifty.
“Kathleen? Oh, let her in, Greta! And get her some tea!”
I’m swept up in greetings, kisses, and pats to my hand as I’m led to the parlor at the back of Carolyn’s house. She has a chess board set up, halfway through a game with either herself or Greta, but thankfully she does not ask me to play. I’ve already turned down Ira enough times since I don’t care much for chess.
I sit in an antique chair that has been recently reupholstered, making it soft and luxurious. Carolyn sits ninety degrees to me, motioning to a tea set placed by Greta only five seconds before. “Please help yourself, dear. I recently got a shipment from Belgium. You wouldn’t think of Belgium when it comes to tea, but…”
“Not right now, thanks.”
Carolyn is taken aback. “Oh, what have I done this time to make everyone so snippy?”
“Done?”
“Don’t suppose you’ve come here to put me in my place again.” Carolyn smiles, but I can tell she’s still wounded by my previous words. Come to think of it, she hasn’t said a word about Ira and me in the weeks since that painful family lunch.
I shake my head. “You haven’t done anything. I’ve come here to get some advice.”
Her manicured eyebrows rise. “Business?” She leans in, even though Greta has long since left the room. “Or personal?”
I can’t meet her gaze without blushing. “Personal.”
“Oh, dear, I asked the wrong question. Ahem. What has my child done this time?”
I might as well rip off this Band-Aid. “Made me fall in love with her.”
Not sure what to expect, I brace myself. Carolyn doesn’t squeal. She doesn’t huff. She doesn’t even change her expression, other than to play with the charm around her neck. I recognize such a thing. Seems provincial, although I’m sure the birthstone is genuine.
A diamond for April. Ira’s birth month.
“Pardon me for not getting excited this time around,” she says, looking at her pendant. It matches her scarlet one-piece and brunette up-do well. If she’s wearing makeup, I can’t tell. “I’m trying to contain my emotions regarding you two. Apparently, that’s a good idea, because you don’t sound excited much yourself. Tell me everything.”
“That’s it… ‘everything’ is very… TMI.”
“Kathleen, honey…” She clears her throat. “I know about the domination and submission thing. It’s my fault, I suppose you could say, they first found out about it. Had some books one fateful day when they came home from school. Disappeared. Next thing I knew, Ira wanted to know if women like it when men do that to them because I’d spent their whole life trying to turn them into a genuine, empathetic person. Let me tell you, that’s hard to do in this world!”
I don’t know if she means our high society or the world in general. It doesn’t matter. “I think you raised her the best you could. She’s…”
“A sheltered kid. Trust me, I know.”
“In more ways than one.”
Carolyn is quiet as she pours herself tea, offers me a cup one last time, and shrugs when I decline. I don’t want to drink any liquids. I may be a bit parched, but I’m so anxious that any drop of liquid will send me to the bathroom twenty times in an hour.
“Now that we’ve established that… go ahead and tell me. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t want my advice on the whole tale.”
I don’t know where to begin, and I tell her as much.
“Start wherever it’s most natural.”