“Hi, Mom… can I come in?”
…………………………..
Katharine Bishop had opened the door cautiously. They didn’t really get many visitors and they weren’t a couple who were open to their neighbours casually dropping in for a mid morning coffee. They kept to themselves and that’s how they liked it. Well, it’s how her husband liked it. She used to be a sociable person, her own parents used to complain that she was too friendly, too open to strangers, a “ social butterfly” was how her Dad once described her. Not as a critiscm, lovingly really, they just worried about her.
They weren’t really sure how the two of them had produced such a warm, outgoing generous little girl. They were both very shy people, two shy people who somehow, later in life had met each other.
May was 40 and working as a Secretary for the Local Water utility and Frank was a Postal Worker. Frank was a few years older.
They fell in love, both for the first time, and after a few years found a little house and got married. It was the era of free love and flowers in your hair but May and Frank weren’t free love and flowers people. They were just happy to have found each other and that would be enough. They assumed that children wouldn’t be part of their lives and that was ok. They weren’t brought up to expect much so having each other already exceeded their expectations. And yet, at the tender age of 45 , May fell pregnant and no child was ever loved or wanted more than their little Katie.
When she was in her final year of High School Katie met Lane Bishop. He’d transferred over from a school near Tacoma and he quickly became a favourite of the girls in Katie’s class. Lane was a jock, a quarter back but also excelled on the track. He was weighing up his offers from several Universities.
And he was going to go all the way.
He was smart too, not quite a Straight A student but almost.
And he was so gorgeous. The brightest clearest blue eyes you could ever imagine, unruly blonde hair and perfect skin. He could have chosen anyone, there truly wasn’t a girl in her High School that didn’t fantasise about having Lane Bishop as their boyfriend. He had a way with people too. Whether those people were his teachers or coaches or classmates. When Lane Bishop talked to you, you knew you had his full attention.
He was so charismatic. Almost every teacher in the school adored him and the one or two who didn’t would not have been able to say why.
He could have chosen anyone but his eyes settled on Katie Mason. She was popular but would never have been voted Prom Queen. She was nice and kind to everyone and demanded nothing in return. She was funny in that quiet way of hers and smarter than she knew. She was pretty but not so pretty as to be competition to the really pretty girls. And she was loyal to a fault.
Her parents loved her but, never having had much in the way of confidence themselves, didn’t know how to instill it in their daughter. So while she loved dancing and hanging out with her friends she felt that she was lucky to have them want to do likewise and never felt or expected any boy would choose her over any of the other girls.
So when Lane Bishop chose her, Plain little Katie Mason, to be his date to Prom well she was defenceless to his charms. He didn’t ask her to the Prom, didn’t enquire as to whether she’d already had a Prom date. No, he just walked up to her in the corridor after English class and told her that she had to wear a blue dress, and blue shoes because that was his favourite colour. He told her he’d seen a dress that would be perfect on her. She had to actually check if he was asking her to the Prom and he just laughed and said “ Yes, Katharine, you are going to the Prom with me.”
No one had ever called her Katharine before. He told her he’d be asking her father permission to bring her to the Prom to do things just “right” and he did. The Lane Bishop that sat across the table from her at her parents house was the perfect gentleman. He said all the right things to her parents, they were happy to see their Katie with such a lovely boy who was so kind and clearly besotted with their daughter.
May and Frank were harbouring a deep secret by then, one they’d kept from their daughter for months not wanting to ruin her final year of High School. May had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and,that summer after Katie finished High School, she passed away. Frank was devastated, he could not cope with the loss at all and the quiet man that he had always been became quieter still. If any man ever died of a broken heart it was Frank Mason who died three years after his wife. Died in his sleep, as quietly as he had lived.
Katie had just turned twenty one.
That night though, the pre Prom dinner, the Masons were just happy to see their beloved Katie with someone who clearly adored her as much as they did.
Lane showered her with gifts, flowers, told her she was beautiful. Warned her about not letting her generous nature be taken advantage of by her so called friends. Asked her to do after school study with him,maybe not go out to the Cinema with Tammy and Cindy so much.
Told her maybe her College choices weren’t right for her, but of course he would support her choice because he loved her. Lane Bishop loved her. Katie Mason never really expected a boy to fall in love with her and certainly not one like Lane Bishop. He told her all the time he would support her because that’s what love was even when he thought she was wrong or being silly. He told her how his father used to beat his mother when she did silly things or made bad choices. How his father used to beat him too when he got bad grades or didn’t make the track team that one year.
He told her that he would never lift a hand to her or anyone else. That he loved her so much he could never ever hurt her even if she deserved it. That he would never raise a hand to his children but he would make sure they were the very best they could be.
He told her he wanted to marry her, make beautiful babies with her, take care of her, let her never have to worry about making wrong decisions as he’d take care of all that. Asked her to come with him when he went away to University on scholarship.
Katie Mason never really stood much of a chance against him.
Lane told her he didn’t want to fulfil the stereotype of taking her virginity on their Prom night. He told her he needed the release after the disappointment of losing the semi final that day, even though his performance as QB had been stellar his teammates had let him down. After their first time Lane held her and told her she was beautiful and that she was his and no one else’s. And that he was her one and only. That they were forever now.
He brought her to a Clinic and made sure she was on the Pill and understood how to take it. She was responsible for making sure there were no little accidents. Her and her alone.
He held her hand at her mothers funeral and never let it go. Her cousins and remoter family remarked how lucky she was to have him by her side.
By the time her Dad passed their life’s were very different. Lanes knee injury was catastrophic and ended his athletics career before his Sophomore year was half over. He was angry an internalised anger that had to be hidden from the World but not in his private life. He was filled with an even greater need to control his life now that his future plans were gone.
And for an angry young man with uncertain prospects the areas he could control were very few but his girlfriend was one. A month after Frank died they were married. He didn’t ask her to marry him, didn’t enquire as to whether she wanted that. No, he told her that she could not wear a white dress as she wasn’t pure. He told her he’d bought a cream dress that would be perfect for her. She had to actually check if he was proposing and he just laughed and said “Yes, Katharine, who else would want to marry you?”
And Lane Bishop recovered from his disappointment and graduated from College, got a half decent job and outwardly became the perfect husband and provider. Katie Mason, the fun loving kind girl, gave way to Katharine Bishop, the wife grateful to her husband for taking control, for being there to hold her hand when her mother passed, when her father passed.
Grateful for providing a home and making her a mother. Grateful to him for allowing her to name their daughter after her beloved Mother; he despised his own mother for being a weak foolish woman who provoked his father to justifiable anger. Grateful to him too for allowing her to name their son, Mason Francis Bishop, after her beloved Father; he despised his own father for his failure to control his own anger, justified or not.
Grateful to him too for keeping his promise never to raise his hand to her or to their kids no matter how much she deserved it, no matter how much they disappointed him.
The world of Katharine Bishop had become very small very quickly.
And years later, with the loss of her son to addiction and homelessness;with the loss of her daughter to her father, her World consisted of her Husband and their neatly kept home.
She had tried to break away from it once, left him, reconnected with Maya, ventured out into a now unfamiliar World but the onset of the pandemic took away her courage and she’d returned to her small world. Lane Bishop did not admonish her angrily when she appeared on his doorstep in May 2020. No, he just smiled, took her suitcase, and simply said “ I forgive you, Katharine. You were just foolish, and I will take care of you.”
He’d been apoplectic with rage however a few months later when,in direct disobedience of his express order, she went to Maya’s wedding. He kept his promise however and did not raise her hand to her. She was grateful for that much.
She knew now that their marriage was based not on love but control.
Knew that Lane was not a good husband or father.
Knew that though he had never raised his hand to her or her children he had nonetheless raised them in extreme violence.
Her husband had in effect destroyed their beautiful gentle talented baby boy. Their son as lost to them now as if he were dead. The fact that he could be a thought never far from her mind or her heart.
And he had nearly succeeded in destroying their beautiful smart talented baby girl also. He had taken her daughter from her as soon as she could talk and walk. Moulding her into his own likeness. By then she’d felt powerless to stop it. He was a good provider and to the outside world she was lucky to have him but while Katie Mason might have not stood much of a chance against Lane Bishop Katharine Bishop stood none at all.
But Maya who Lane had seen as his greatest success he now saw as his greatest failure. Maya had slipped from his grasp, Maya so like him had somehow harboured a weakness, a devastating weakness in his eyes. A weakness inherited from her weak pathetic Mother.
Maya was kind and, when given an opportunity, loving.
And foolish to believe that either of those things mattered.
She’d let herself be distracted from the plan, the goal.
Distracted and tied down to that woman.
Truth be told he didn’t care all that much that the distraction was a woman,embarassing as it was.
It was the fact that she allowed herself to be distracted.
And that he, who had given her everything, given up his own life for her, had now been discarded as if he was nothing. As if she did not owe everything to him.
Everything.
………………………
So when Katharine opened the door that morning, cautiously, she equally didn’t expect it to be her daughter.
Maya and Carina had made it clear she would always be welcome at theirs.
Unconditionally.
And she phoned them both on occasion, Lane monitored calls mostly so communication wasn’t easy but they knew that she would call if she needed them, she knew she could call if she needed them.
And Maya was happy and she had a spouse who loved her, loved her as an equal. She’d seen their love on their Wedding Day and knew that it was nothing like her and Lane and for that she was so grateful. She could see too that the way Maya looked at her wife was nothing like the way Lane had ever looked at her.
He had failed. His daughter was nothing like him.
No, when she saw Carina and Maya on their wedding Day it was not her and Lane that came to mind. It was her parents, Frank and May. The people who had shown her what love looked like, what love felt like.
A knowledge that Lane had erased from her.
………………………
“Mom… can I come in?” Maya repeated. She’d waited till her father had pulled out of their driveway before getting out of her own car. Walking to the door had caused her ankle to throb again which was weird as it had been almost pain free in the three days since her first session with Doctor Lewis.
She’d begun putting the Apartment back together,room by room. In between naps. A word she thought she’d never use about herself. She supposed she was still erasing a massive sleep deficit but now sleep came easier. And when not sleeping she still found it possible to rest. Something she’d never been able to do without Carina.
She picked up her phone multiple times to phone her wife, or text but what could she say? What could she type that even came close to being enough?
She’d put Carina through hell, she’d deliberately hurt her, choosing the words that would mark the most, scar the most.
She wasn’t sure if there was a form of apology that was enough, that would be enough. And even if there was it would not come with a guarantee that she might not repeat her actions. When she was with Diane, when she’d held her imaginary 3 yr old self in her arms and told her how she was loved, how she was safe, how it was unconditional love, then it felt doable.
As mortifying as it was, as skin crawling embarrassing as it was to cry snotty tears while cradling an invisible child, in front of a person whom she respected, an SFD colleague whose respect she wanted in return, nonetheless in the moment it all felt credible.
Credible that she could heal, could get her life back, her wife back.
The following day, even after an unbelievable 10 hours sleep, it wasn’t so credible.
She found herself counting down the days to her next session with Dr. Diane Lewis. Craving the notion of a safe place to fall asunder while simultaneously dreading it.
So she hadn’t phoned Carina. How could she tell her wife that she was healing and that meant she had to heal her three year old self first. How could she tell her wife that she loved that little three year old and would do anything to protect her. That when Diane had praised that three year old Maya had nearly burst into tears with pride.
But she knew that if she had one chance left with Carina, and she was not taking that as fact, she’d have to explain it to Carina and words might not suffice alone.
……………………….
“Come in, come in, your father isn’t here, he won’t be back for hours.”
They sat in the little sitting room, each holding a cup of tea. A room devoid of family pictures, she noticed the picture of her on the podium in London over the fireplace was gone, a training diploma in the name of Coach Bishop in its place. Everything in its place and a place for everything.
So unlike her home with Carina. Carina was scrupulously clean, she was a Doctor after all, but God she was messy. Maya felt tears coming to her eyes at the thought of never living with that perfect beautiful mess again. Scrunched her eyes up to stem them.
Katherine had mostly stayed silent, observing. Worried.
Maya looked, well..unwell. Tired, sad, nervous, maybe even sick.
“Honey, are you okay?
“ I was wondering if you have any old photos, of me, when I was a kid? “ she ignored her Mother’s worried enquiry.
“Maya? You don’t seem… what’s wrong?”
Lane Bishop might have gone out of his way to ensure that she and Maya didn’t have much of a Mother Daughter relationship but he couldn’t destroy Katherine’s love for her child. Or her instinct and her instinct was screaming at her that her Baby was in pain, in trouble.
“Is it Carina? Is Carina ok?” She’d seen her daughter battle physical illness and injury, disappointment and worry over her brother and had never seen her look so troubled. She was either very unwell or it had to be Carina. She knew they were trying to get pregnant and the question about baby pictures made her wonder.
“No, Carina is fine, I mean I think she is fine… I, I, I’m not sure… she, she moved out a few weeks ago. It, it wasn’t her fault it was me just me.” Just saying it out loud to another human being made it all feel so real and the pain hit her again like a brick to the face. “ I made it impossible for her to stay.”
“Oh, Maya…” she didn’t care what her Daughter might have done or whether she was to blame, her Daughter was in pain and that was all that mattered, she moved quickly to sit beside her on the couch, dragging her into a hug, an embrace that tightened as Maya fell into her arms and began sobbing uncontrollably, “ I miss my wife, I love my wife and I miss her, I just miss her.”
Later with a gap between them and a fresh cup of tea Maya wondered how it was that within a matter of days here she was breaking down and crying snotty tears on yet another person. And while this person was her Mother it wasn’t as if they were all that close.
Katherine wasn’t going to ask the wheres and the whats of it, she just wanted Maya to know she was there for her no matter what had happened.
It was then she noticed the fading bruise on her forehead. She’d already noticed the dark circles and unhealthy pallor. She didn’t want to imagine that Carina could have been the cause of the bruise but Maya was her daughter and she was damned if she’d sit back again and let another person hurt her. She could not undo the past but she could be there now.
She ghosted a finger over Maya’s forehead, a slight flinch as she touched the discoloured skin, “Did, did she… did Carina do this?”
It was a moment of levity to break the heaviness. The mere fact that anyone could even contemplate Carina physically hurting anyone was crazy. “Mom, no, no, Carina would never..” she laughed before the laughter caught in her throat, “…I fell off a treadmill a few weeks ago.” She wondered if that would ever get less embarrassing either. A fleeting thought of her Dads disdain if he heard how low she had sunk brought a frown to her face.
“I, I wasn’t looking after myself too well and, well…”she pointed to the bruise
She sighed, letting go of her Mothers hand. She took a deep breath, this was hard, harder that it should be, because it shouldn’t be a source of shame, if she’d suffered a concussion or a brain bleed or burns from a fire there would no shame. It should be the same with mental health but it wasn’t. That would be another thing she’d need to discuss in therapy with Lewis.
“She had to…” no, she wasn’t going to blame Carina for this, especially not to her Mother. Her mother loved Carina, she knew that. Making her earlier question even the more ridiculous, “…I had to be committed, to Psy…to Psych. For Seventy Two Hours.”
“ To the looney bin?” Katharine gasped. Her daughter was one of the strongest most admirable most stable people she’d ever known. And she didn’t think that was misplaced maternal pride talking.
“Mom!” We don’t, that phrase is… well it’s beneath you and me… “ mirroring Diane’s admonishment of days earlier.
“ I’m sorry , I’m sorry…” she grabbed Maya’s hand again and squeezed it, “ I didn’t mean, your father used to threaten to send me there so often, it’s just what he called it , Im sorry.”
A memory came unbidden, was she seven or eight? Older? Her father screaming at her mother, calling her unhinged, what did she know about raising a kid, he didn’t want his kids mollycoddled into failures. Like her parents did to her. She should be in an asylum with the other crazies. “ I should drive you to the looney bin myself, make them throw away the key.”
“ Oh, Mom.” She blamed Katharine for her childhood, for not protecting them, for being so cowardly as to return in the pandemic. But before he had turned his attention on his kids he’d had years to work on her Mother. She’d seen the devastation she’d wrought on Carina in a matter of months, her Mother had endured Lane for nearly her entire adult life.
She now in turn squeezed Katharine’s hand in a gesture of support. “You know our offer still stands? I mean my offer…” they’d both told her on the day of the wedding she could stay, that she could turn up anytime and be welcomed with open arms. She’d gone home that night regardless, “…I don’t know if we, if Carina…I mean I want her to come home and…but I don’t know if…” she inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled, “ …but you can come home with me right now, or next week, next year you don’t have to stay with him, Mom, you don’t.”
The tea long gone cold, they talked, Maya in very broad terms explaining her mental health had suffered, had refused all Carina’s please to get help, things had escalated. That she couldn’t get Carina pregnant, how much she yearned to hold a little Carina in her arms.
Katharine had interjected. “I understand that feeling, holding you in my arms the day you were born, I thought I would burst with happiness. Just me, you and the lovely midwive at Seattle Grace Hospital. “
“Dad wasn’t there?”
“ No, he was on an out of town trip, didn’t see any reason to cancel. I think he was a little disappointed you were a girl so we didn’t see him for three days.” Katharine added “… but later he was the proudest Dad, you kept meeting milestones quicker than Mike Palowski’s son who was born the same day. Do you remember the Palowskis? They lived next door till you were about three?
You started crawling a month before Zeb, and walking at least two months sooner, and talking. Your father used to say Mikes kid was defective. He just wasn’t as fast as you.”
“I’m seeing a therapist…” she wasn’t going into the details. Little three year old Maya may have figured out how to keep her Daddy’s love but little three year old Maya had a Mommy too as she had all the way growing up but she never featured on that timeline Diane had made her do. Maybe because by then Katharine had abdicated responsibility to Lane, or she was trying to protect baby Mason.
Either way she didn’t want Katharine to feel she was to blame because even if she was, just a little, it wasn’t about blame. It wasn’t even about blaming her Dad because that was the past. Her past informed her present but what was relevant was how she could now in the present shape her future.
Blaming her parents for the past would not undo the hurt. But that little girl needed to know that the blame was not hers and that she didn’t have to shoulder the hurt or the fears any longer.
“It’s helping…I think it’s going to help.”
………………………
She left Katharine’s with a box of old photos she’d never seen before. A lovely picture of a couple on their Wedding Day, pencil mark on the back saying “Francis and May, 16 November 1967”, she’d never seen it. Other pictures from Katharine’s childhood, so many with her sandwiched between two beaming parents. She felt she could reach out and touch the love.
Her own school pictures, early ones with toothy grins, later ones with tight lipped smiles. Masons starting off similarly, later ones looking increasingly sad.
She found one that would do, two actually. She was probably two and a half in the first one, asleep on a blanket in the garden, blonde hair framing a nearly angelic little face, asleep and at rest. A thumb in her mouth.
Maya ached for the lost innocence.
The second a little older, she supposed four, she must have been at some kind of race day. She was still proudly holding a spoon with an egg precariously atop it. A little gold medal around her neck , she was holding the medal aloft, showing it off. A beaming smile of pride.
Her mother was standing to her side, her head cut off in the photo, clearly not the object for the photographer. A sleeping Mason in her mother’s arms so it could have only been one her father who had taken the photo, her father to whom the beaming child had been showing her medal.
Maya’s heart nearly broke for the little beaming child whose childhood of trauma and abuse had begun unknowingly.
She took the two photos and put them in the envelope alongside the note,
“Carina,
I hope one day that I can explain in person why I’m sending these photos to you but just know that three year old Maya never knew what unconditional love felt like or looked like, but I do because you showed me. So many times but maybe especially that night in the Hospital.
I’m getting help, you were right. About so much.
Mi manchi e ti amo. E mi dispiace per così tanto.
Your wife,
Maya”