For her part, Mary was angry. Kathleen Nelson wasn’t one iota improved from the horror she was on that Thanksgiving long ago. Much as she told everyone that she had forgiven them, part of the scar remained painful and, she admitted, always would. She was marrying Betty in three days. Why had she agreed with this insanity, to reopen the wound and now have salt rubbed in it? Mary simply got up, nodded to Tom, and only Tom, and was gone. And when she saw that Eileen was waiting across 47th Street from the restaurant she dodged a taxi and walked to her.
Tom and Kate saw that Eileen had left her phone on the table, sitting in front of Kate. He began in true banker’s style, “Here’s the deal. This is one of those irresistible-force/immovable-object things. If you can’t accept your daughter for who she is, she will be lost to you forever. In her mind, you already are. But Eileen thinks that she will miss you even if right now she doesn’t. I did not know her at the time, although Eileen did, but Suzanne had a very difficult period during her year in law school. You need to know that she left school in large part because of her father and because of what you and her father did to her Aunt. However justified you two felt you were in what you did, Suzanne could not accept it.
“Suzanne was also having a difficult time with Kerry. But they worked through that and have been unbelievably happy ever since. You’ve seen the photos”—he pointed to the phone—”and you see what the two of them are like together. They are always like that. Frankly, it’s annoying at times.” She did not smile at that.
“I can’t tell you what Suzanne will say or do if you reach out to her directly. I can tell you that whatever Eileen just said, in the end, she will do all she can to help you with Suzanne. Mary too. But they can’t help you, no one can help you, with Suzanne until you accept her as she is.”
With that, Tom put three twenties on the table for their drinks, picked up Eileen’s phone, and left.
Wednesday, 6 p. m.
Several scenarios ran through Kate’s mind since she agreed to come to New York. More appeared when she was on the way. They all, though, ended in the exact same place. If she did not accept Suzanne for who she was, and thus accept Mary for who she was, her daughter would be gone forever. All roads led to this exact same place.
Whether it was the irresistible force or the immovable object, it was her faith. It was who she was.
She sat at the table alone. The waitress had cleared away the other drinks and Kate was still nursing hers as the restaurant filled. She added twenty dollars to the sixty Tom put down on the table and put her Channel bag over her shoulder, rolled her travel bag across the room and carried it down the stairs, and hailed a cab to take her to her boutique hotel on Park Avenue South, near Union Square. After she checked in, she left to take a long walk. She had not been to New York often, usually accompanying her husband, and she enjoyed going for long walks there. It was still light out, not quite 7:30, and she headed south towards NYU and Washington Square.
Once there, she asked several people if they knew of a Catholic Church nearby and the third or fourth person she asked directed her about a block west of the Square. There she found an old church. Its doors were open and sat in a pew, not far from the altar.
Thursday, 11 am
Two days before her wedding, Mary put the whole sordid affair behind her as best she could and focused on final preparations. She just couldn’t spare the space necessary were she to start thinking of a re-opening to her California family.
Eileen had no such distractions. She and Tom rode quietly on the train home. She was in her office Thursday when she got the call. It was Kate.
“I know you work in White Plains. I just got off the train. I need to talk to you.”
Eileen thought of the lobby of a new hotel and gave directions to Kate. Ten minutes later they were sitting in the hotel lounge. Each had a coffee. Kate had the floor.
“After I left the restaurant and went to my hotel last night, I walked and found myself going to St. Joseph’s in the Village, near NYU. It’s been a while since I just sat in a pew and thought and spoke to God. I did a lot of that as a kid, but now it’s all in-and-out, sit/stand/kneel/stand. You know the drill.
“I thought of what you said your daughter said, about whether the God I’ve been told to believe in can be my God. I have faith that my God created my beautiful, perfect Suzanne. Maybe I don’t have enough faith, but I can’t believe that my God would want me to sacrifice my perfect daughter because of a whim, because of something He put in her.”
Eileen knew Kate needed to speak and that she needed to keep out of the way.
“I can dismiss Mary even though her parents were my husband’s parents. I know now how absurd that sounds. You’re a mother.” Eileen nodded. “You can understand the uniqueness of your child. And so, when I had to confront the reality that my Suzanne loves your Kerry and then saw the pictures and how happy they both were and how after you left Tom told me how happy they always were I felt lost.
“I can’t get that time back.”
Eileen quieted her. She spoke: “Each of us has time that we can’t recover. I know I do and I know that your Suzanne does. But I know that she moved on from that and to be happy all the time. She had issues with Kerry and, you know, coming out to Kerry. She wrestled with leaving school, and has put that behind her. I have my own regrets, so many. But what always comforted me, every day, was that I had my Kerry.”