Chapter 3
I never did. The next morning I woke up late, the wild, delicious revels of the previous afternoon having taken their toll.
The minute I walked into the kitchen and saw my mother sitting at the table with her head in her hands, I instinctively knew that the worst had happened. I was so stunned that I found it hard to gather my thoughts-let alone speak. Papa Jax was gone! Nobody had to tell me because, in his own way, he had told me himself. That look of pain and anguish I'd seen on his face yesterday afternoon told the whole story.
Jumbled thoughts and images raced through my mind and, for a moment, I was sure I was going to pass out cold on the floor. Dazed, I stumbled towards the table and sat down across from my mother. Neither one of us had spoken a word-arid I couldn't even bring myself to look directly at her.
My mind flashed back to last evening at dinner. Papa Jax was his old, happy-go-lucky self, and that in itself should have been warning enough that something was really wrong. What I mean is that, except for our wonderful afternoon of love, he'd been brooding a lot of the time. Only now did I realize that he was putting on an act-and a good one-simply because he wanted to spare me from his torment. He didn't have the heart to tell me in advance that he was forced to leave.
Gradually the mental and physical numbness which held me in its grip dissipated. The terrible hurt, frustration, bewilderment and anger welled up inside me and then poured out in the form of a bitter tirade directed at my mother.
"You're responsible, you bitch!" I yelled. "I know that Papa Jax was forced to split because you weren't able to give him what he needed from a real wife and lover." My mother looked up and started to speak, but I cut her off.
"I know about your sexual hang-ups, but what I can't understand is why you didn't do anything to help yourself-for your own sake as well as his and mine." As I ranted on, lashing out at my mother, I calmed down and began to realize that I was being a little harsh. "Why didn't you do something?" I implored her, tears welling up in my eyes.
After a moment of silence, mom lifted her face from her hands again and I could see that there were tears in Tier eyes too. "Cindy, darling, I know you feel it's all my fault," she replied softly. "And to a large degree you're right. What you don't know is that I've been getting help for the last few months." I shot her a dubious questioning look.
Ignoring my open skepticism, she continued: "It's true. I've been seeing a psychiatrist who specializes in female frigidity and I really think we've made some progress." I started to interject, but this time she cut me off. "Let me finish," she said gently. "My problems are complex and deeply rooted in the past. It's simply not a matter of a few sessions and wham!-I'm back to normal." I nodded my head, beginning to understand her agonizing situation.
"The main problem seems to be that even when normal, my sexual desires are not what some people might consider to be super strong." She looked at me and the suffering mirrored in her eyes made me feel a bit ashamed at the way I had verbally assaulted her earlier. "Do you know what I'm driving at, Cindy?"
I nodded. "You're saying that you and Papa Jax were sexually incompatible in terms of your individual sexual appetites."
Mom smiled a bit wanly: "I should have realized that you knew lot more about life than I gave you credit for, honey. I guess I didn't want to face the fact that even though you're only fifteen-you're not a kid anymore."
"Did you tell Papa Jax about all this?" I asked her softly.
She shook her head and an incredibly sad and wistful smile crept over her features. "I just couldn't! I knew that even if I got myself together, Papa Jax would never be truly satisfied with me sexually-and I couldn't stand the thought of him making love to other women."
I gave her a funny look which she understood immediately. "Yes, baby, I knew about the things he was doing all those nights he came home late." She brushed some hair away from her face. "Oh, I don't know their names or anything like that," she continued. "But that's not important. What is important is that I knew he felt trapped-despite the love he had for both of us."
' Throughout her rap my feelings about my mother had began to undergo certain changes. I realized that she wasn't the mean, frigid, neurotic woman I'd imagined she had to have become. I understood that she really did love Papa Jax and me. But I also knew that I couldn't bear living with her in this house any longer. It wasn't just her, by any means. I guess it boiled down to a combination of her emotional state, my growing need to get out on my own and-most of all-the memories of Papa Jax that living in the house would never let me forget.
She seemed to read my mind. "I want you to know something, Cindy," she said. "If you decide to move out and live on your own, I'll understand. I won't stand in your way. In fact, I'll help in any way I can. I'll even be able to give you an adequate allowance to live on." A look of puzzlement crossed my face.
Mom reached beneath the table and she seemed to be looking for something in her pocket. In a moment she held up a piece of paper. "Jax left this note. He says he'll be sending us as much money as we'll need and that he'll always love us. He asks me to take care of the divorce proceedings and says he won't contest anything. And you know your father has never been one to break a promise." I nodded. Mom looked up at me: "He also says that he hopes we'll both understand why he's had to take this drastic step and that we'll forgive him." Tears came into her eyes again. "Do you want to read it for yourself?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I just couldn't read it now, mom. But maybe some time when I..." I couldn't finish the sentence, but she finished it for me.
"When you come to visit?" I nodded, averting my eyes.
Mom got up from the table and walked around to where I was sitting. She put her arms around me. "Cindy, this will always be your home. I want you to feel absolutely free to visit anytime-and to even stay here if you want to."
I hugged her and started to cry. "Mom, you really are a beautiful person and you know that I'll always love you. And I do believe what you're saying." I wiped my eyes with a napkin and then looked her straight in the eyes. "But I hope you'll understand that I've just got to get away on my own for a while-maybe a long while." She nodded. 'I've got to find out some things. I've got to get some things out of my system and I think I'll have to do it by myself."
I got up from the table and headed for my room to pack some stuff. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going to go, but I thought I'd contact Margo and see if she had some ideas.
When I got to the kitchen door I turned back to look at my mother. I grinned: "I can't make any promises to you now, mom. But I'll stay in touch, and, who knows? If things don't work out the way I think they will I just might . . ." My words trailed off. Mom didn't say a word. She just smiled and nodded. She understood.
At this point there just wasn't anything else to say.