“We can’t stop you, Olivia,” my mother said, “but we think you’re making a mistake. It’s too soon.”
I didn’t say anything.
“We appreciate the fact that he came and spoke to us first,” mom said, “but I hope he told you that your father did not give him his blessing.”
“His blessing?” I said, incredulous. And then it just poured out of me: “It’s 2013, not 1953. The only blessing we need is each other’s, okay? It’s a different world, you guys, and I’m living in it. This is my life, and I love Max. That alone should be good enough for you.”
Was it harsh? Probably. But there was no way I could even pretend to play the part of the approval-seeking daughter. I was a grown woman. Educated. Determined. Successful. I had met a great man who was good to me, and who I loved more than I thought possible. I knew what I wanted and I knew who I wanted it with. The only power they had to hold me back was power that I gave them. And I refused to do so.
“Olivia,” my father said, but I cut him off.
“No, wait. I’m not going to drag this out. We don’t have a date yet, but if you’re not talking to me by the time we set one, I’ll let you know when it is. The rest is up to you. I have a busy day ahead. I need to get going. Please think about what you’re doing.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Shock, no doubt.
“Goodbye,” I said, not in a rude way, but definitely a determined one.
I was feeling strong, but weaker as the call ended. Luckily, as always, Max was there when I needed him. I felt his arms wrap around me from behind and I grabbed onto his forearms, lowered my head and cried softly.
. . . . .
“I would have never known,” Paula said. “You don’t seem upset at all. And this just happened a few hours ago.”
I shrugged.
Paula said, “At least they didn’t call you and ruin the surprise before — ”
Max interrupted, “Mom, I said the same thing.” He shook his head. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of our lunch.”
. . . . .
Grace called a few mornings later as I was on my way to work. She started off with small talk, asking me what it was like driving such a fancy car into the heart of Hollywood to work on a blockbuster movie.
“I wouldn’t want any other life,” I said, and then immediately regretted it.
She let me have it anyway. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight with you, Olivia.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“And, just in case you don’t know, I wouldn’t want any other life than mine, either. But I don’t blame you for going after what you want.”
“You could have said someth — ”
“Wait,” she interrupted, “I know. I could have taken your side at Christmas. And maybe I should have. But you have to consider that I see Mom and Dad all the time and it’s a totally different situation for me than it is for you. I have to pick my battles.”
“Did you see Max when he went to Mom and Dad’s?”
“No. I didn’t even know he was here until the next day. And just so you know, I think I might have pissed them off when they told me.”
“How so?”
She laughed a little, then said, “Because I was so happy.”
I pulled up to a red light and noticed a police car in my rearview mirror. I must have been speeding as Grace and I spoke, not just because of the tension, but also because I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing.
“Oh, fuck you,” I said, the frustration coming to a head.
“What!?”
“No, no,” I said. “I’m sorry. There’s a cop behind me, I was speeding…never mind. That wasn’t meant for you.”
“I was about to go off on you.”
“Yeah, well, join the club.”
“Hey,” she said, sounding annoyed, and probably within all her rights to feel that way. “I’m trying to smooth things over here. Even if it’s just between me and you. Okay?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “Can we go back to like it was before?”
“Absolutely. As long as you promise we don’t talk about any of this anymore. At least until I’m ready.”
“Deal.”
. . . . .
Max was jogging on the beach one Sunday morning several weeks later when his mother called. I wasn’t all that surprised to see her name on the Caller ID. She sometimes called me rather than Max, and Sunday was our usual day to go to her house for dinner, even though she had cancelled that week because some of her neighbors were having a block party and she wanted to attend.
“Hi, Paula.”
“Olivia, is Max around?”
“He’s on the beach. But he always has his phone. Do you need to talk to him?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “I need to talk to you.”
Her voice didn’t sound normal. She sounded almost out of breath.
“Is everything okay?”
She let out a sigh. “I need to ask you something. It’s a very touchy subject, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him any of this.”
Oh God. I hated being put in positions like this. Over the last several months, I’d seen it in my professional life — mostly from agents — but nothing could be worse than being shoved in the middle of a situation like that between family members. My work experience in this regard had taught me one way to handle it, so I tried it with Paula.
“If it’s something that bad,” I said, “maybe you shouldn’t tell me at all.”
“But I have no one else to talk to,” she said, laying the guilt on thick.
I didn’t want to dismiss her. I couldn’t. She would soon be my mother-in-law and for all intents and purposes, she already was in a practical sense.
“Okay, Paula. Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“If it’s this hard to tell you, I can’t imagine how Max is going to take it.” She went silent.
“Paula…”
“I’ve been in touch with Max’s father.”
I almost dropped the phone. “What? Since when?”
“Around Christmas.”
I pulled out a barstool and sat. “Oh my God, Paula.”
“I thought the same thing at first,” she said. “But he’s not the same man he was when Max and I left.”