Our son Matt had been away at college for almost 3 years when I got a call from his old high school girlfriend.
“Mrs. Edelstein, it’s Ellen, remember me?”
I’d liked her a lot, feeling maternal right away because her mother was dead. Although her family didn’t have money and she’d had to work after-school, she was a top student (and also read novels I recommended). I’d never quite understood why she’d chosen to go to the University of Miami. I’m sure I asked Matt about it, but Ellen was one of those subjects—he’d answer my questions cheerfully enough, then suddenly start arguing over nothing and I’d be bewildered until I’d realize that I’d crossed some line with him. Over the years she’d written me a few notes, I’m sure I answered, nothing much.
“Ellen! Didn’t you used to call me Ann!”
“…Ann.” She said she liked college; asked, she said she was on the Dean’s List. “Actually,” pause, “Ann,” long pause, “I’m pregnant. I’m five months pregnant.”
She didn’t mention the father, so I just made excited noises as if it were great news that she was pregnant with no husband.
She asked about Matt.
I thought I should mention his current girlfriend, Colette.
Ellen seemed happy for him, but didn’t ask any questions.
(My husband Pete is always telling me that I make up stories—this is often when I’m worrying about something he finds either trivial or too painful to talk about; actually, I write short stories—but I knew that Matt wasn’t the father.)
“Would you like me to visit?” Immediately I was horrified by my offer.
“Wow!”
I couldn’t believe I’d just offered to go from New York City to Miami to visit my son’s ex-girlfriend.
“ Wow! You know, my Easter vacation is coming, you can stay in my apartment…but aren’t you teaching?”
I muttered that I was on sabbatical.
“I’d love you to visit….”
I didn’t remember her voice well enough to tell if it was teary with gratitude. Really, I barely knew Ellen.
Promising to call back with dates and times, I knew I could easily get out of the whole thing, but was troubled by my offer and wondered, as my psychiatrist used to ask, just what was going on with me. Empty nest? It wasn’t so bad. I missed Matt, of course, but still loved walking into our apartment and not finding something like his guinea pig gnawing off its own leg while Matt stood there weeping & looking at me imploringly. And now I was on sabbatical & trying to write, and the last thing I wanted was to get involved with another young person’s problems.
On the other hand, my writing wasn’t going particularly well, and maybe a change in routine would do me good. And I’d always wanted a daughter. And it certainly seemed as if Ellen could use a mother.
That night Pete agreed that a break might do me good. “But,” he added with unusual firmness, “you’d better make sure Matt has no objections.”
“Actually, I don’t see a problem, he seems quite involved with Colette…” Of course I’d intended to ask Matt if he minded my going—for some reason I was just being perverse; it felt like the way I used to get when I was getting my period.
Matt told me to have a good time, didn’t ask many questions, seemed more interested in announcing how as soon as he moves out of the dorm next year, he’s getting a dog or “at least” a cat.
Flying to Miami a week later (my still-mainly-dark hair held back with a fancy barrette; stylish eyeglasses; arduously maintained thinness) I thought about how if she weren’t already seeing one, I’d encourage Ellen to see a psychiatrist; and I certainly wanted to go over her college catalogue with her; and we could always shop for baby things. Although I’d periodically tell myself that the break would do me good, I also couldn’t help wondering just what I was doing.
Ellen
It was weird: the minute I saw Ellen, looking a little wan in her creamsicle orange maternity pants suit, wild brown curls still tumbling down to her shoulders, I realized I don’t particularly like Colette. (To be fair, Pete’s only brought her over a few times, and I suspect she’s one of those women who seem secretive and remote with other women, but men adore her….)
“You’ve really come,” Ellen kept saying, and seeing her in her cheap maternity pants suit I got that feeling I sometimes get with Matt, like a needle in my heart because I wanted her to be happy.
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