Power of a Woman

Connecticut

When I think of my children and the things they do, it seems to me they are like strangers. Except for Miles. But then, he is the child of my heart, so like me in so many ways. Of course, I love them all, but he has always been special to me since he was small. I wonder, are all mothers like I am? Do they favor one child more than the others? I’m sure that it is so, but it’s hard to ask anyone that kind of…leading question. And do the children know? Do they detect it, sense it, feel it? Do they know there is one who is the real favorite of the mother?

Each of my children is different. Yet I can see traits in them that are mine. And some are Ralph’s. There are traits in them that come from Bruce. Fortunately, none of them have inherited anything of their grandmother, Alfreda, and for that I can honestly say I’m thankful. She was not a nice woman; she was cold, repressed, and bitter. She never had a kind word for me or anyone she considered to be her inferior. It is their other grandmother who shows up in them. My mother. Chloe has inherited her beauty, her willowy figure, her pleasing personality, and her desire to please; Miles has inherited her sense of humor and geniality.

I love them. I love all of my children. It’s the truth, I do. Maybe too much. And yet somewhere along the way I suppose I hurt them, damaged them without meaning to do so. But then we’re all damaged goods, aren’t we? Life damages us, people damage us, we even damage ourselves. I must have caused them pain and heartache. And hurt their feelings. We do that so often to those we love the most without even realizing it or meaning to. And perhaps I did neglect them at times when I was caught up with work and travel. But I never stopped loving them.

I think of them as my children. But, of course, they’re not children, not anymore. They’re adults. Grown-ups. People. Other people, not my children. They’re so different in so many ways. Strangers. Sometimes, anyway. Even Chloe is grown-up all of a sudden, knowing her own mind, hell-bent on getting her own way.

Soon I’m going to stop being a mother, stop thinking of myself as such. Instead I’ll be…? I’ll be…just there for them. If they need me. Is that possible? How do you stop being a mother? How do you stop worrying about them? Caring about them? Perhaps you don’t. How DO you stop being a mother? Can anyone tell me that?

Will I fare better with my grandchildren? I asked myself that question in the middle of the night, when I woke up with such suddenness. I will be a good grandmother to Natalie and Arnaud. Grandmothers are better than mothers, I’ve been told. Less possessive. My grandchildren are so precious and Nigel is lucky to have them, to have Tamara. She’s a good wife, a wonderful mother. A good young woman.

I think I’m beginning to resent the fact that Gideon teases her, calls her “the foreigner.” Her father is French, her mother Russian, and Gideon wants to make an issue about it. Why, I’ll never know. But it’s unkind. He says it’s in jest; yet I sense that’s how he really perceives her. I’d hate to think he was bigoted in some way. But I am very aware that my son Gideon thinks that anything not English is inferior. I wonder why he’s not learned otherwise yet? I did years ago.

Chloe. I can’t let her go to London. Chloe alone there at the age of eighteen! No, never. I feel it’s unwise. She’s too young. And she must go to university. She can’t just drop out.

Soon my family will be with me. Well, some of them, and that makes me happy. And each one of us has a lot to be thankful for this November of 1996. And I, in particular, am such a lucky woman. I have so much.

Stevie closed her diary, put it in the desk, and locked the drawer. As she pushed back her chair and rose, she heard the sound of the car on the gravel driveway outside.

Moving to the window, she pulled back the lace curtain and looked out. Her heart lifted when she saw Miles alighting.

He glanced up at the window, saw his mother, and waved.

She waved back, dropped the curtain, and hurried out, almost running down the stairs to the great hall.

5 (#u468f38f4-96aa-557c-bf84-6ee6f19f9bd9)

MILES JARDINE COULDN’T HELP THINKING THAT AS he and his twin brother grew older, their mother appeared to be getting younger.

That morning she looked like a woman in her mid-thirties, and quite wonderful, as she came down the front steps to greet him and his grandparents. She was wearing a chalk-stripe gray-wool pants suit and a white silk shirt, and she was her usual elegant self.

It struck him that Gideon was correct when he said they were rapidly catching up with her, and that when they were forty-six she herself would still be forty-six, at least in her appearance anyway.

But then, she had been a mere nineteen-year-old when they were born, and she was blessed with youthful looks, thanks to her genes. His grandmother, who would soon be sixty-seven, didn’t look her age either, nor did she seem it. Blair was as youthful as anyone he knew, had great vitality, energy, and an enormous sense of fun.

“Hello, Ma,” Miles said as his mother drew to a standstill in front of him. “You look fabulous.” He smiled at her hugely, dropped the two bags he was carrying, and hugged her to him.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Miles darling,” she responded, smiling back. “And thanks for the compliment.” She drew away and went on down the steps. His eyes followed her as she embraced her mother and then Derek, who had been helping the driver unload the trunk of the car.

Suddenly Cappi and the two local young women who worked with her on weekends were greeting him. One of them grabbed his suitcases despite his protestations that he could manage perfectly well; she paid no attention, simply departed with the luggage.

Miles shrugged to himself and went on down the last few remaining steps, close on the heels of Cappi and her other helper.

But when he heard Chloe calling his name, he paused, swung around, and a second later his sister was hurtling into his arms.

“Hi, Pumpkin,” he exclaimed, and gave her a big bear hug.

“I’ve been waiting all morning for you, Miles; you’re late.”

He grinned at her. “I think I’m early actually, kid. We weren’t due until noon, and it was just eleven thirty as we turned into the gates. Anyway, how’re things at Romany Hall?”

“Okay,” she answered laconically. There was a slight pause, then she added softly, “But I want to—” She broke off abruptly, as if she had changed her mind.

“Come on, Pumpkin, what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, nothing…it was nothing important, honestly.”

Miles thought otherwise, but he made no comment, as always discreet. “Come on, then, let’s help Cappi and Lola with all that stuff. When the Rayners travel, it’s like old-style royalty on the move. And God only knows what they bring with them.”

“The kitchen sink,” Chloe chortled. “That’s what Mom says anyway. She told me earlier that they’d arrive with two dozen suitcases plus the kitchen sink.”

“Not quite, but almost,” Miles agreed, laughing with his sister.

They went down to the driveway holding hands. Chloe glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “So you didn’t bring Allison.”

Miles threw her an odd look. “Now, why would I bring her?”

“Bring who?” Derek asked as he braced himself for Chloe’s enthusiastic hugs and kisses.

Stevie stared at her son, waiting to hear his response to her stepfather’s question.

Glancing at Derek, Miles said, “Nobody. Nobody important, that is.”

Well, at least that’s to the point, Stevie thought. And leaves nothing to our imagination.

“Hello, darling,” Blair murmured, accepting Chloe’s kisses, which were, to her relief, more restrained than those just bestowed on Derek. “And who is Allison?” she asked, casting her glance on them all.

“Don’t look at me; I’ve no idea, my darling,” Derek intoned in his mellifluous actor’s voice and, hoisting two of the valises, went up the steps. Stevie and Blair followed, carrying some of the smaller bags.

After Miles had thanked the driver and tipped him, he too made his way to the front door with Chloe in tow. He said in a pointed voice, “Little pigs not only have big ears, but apparently loose tongues as well.”

Chloe giggled.

“Why did you mention Allison of all people, and in front of our mother? You know she’s longing for me to get married and have kids, so she can have more grandchildren. It was wrong of you, Chloe.”

“Well, you have been seeing a lot of Allison, and I thought it was…” Her voice trailed off lamely; she looked chagrined. And she felt suddenly uncomfortable under his fixed scrutiny.

“That’s my business, kid, not yours.”

“I thought it was getting serious between you two.”

“No. And even if I did have serious intentions, that has nothing to do with you or Mother or anyone else. It’s a private matter and it’s certainly not open for discussion within the family.”

“Oh.” There was a momentary pause, and she looked at him through worried eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, but let’s not discuss my personal business in front of the rest of the family. Okay?”