"I just can't believe that your mom likes Jacqueline so much," she says a little bit under her breath, turning herself away from the two of them, sitting by the bay window. "She doesn’t like anyone."
"I know. I'm shocked, to say the least."
"You are?" Marguerite asks, her eyes getting big.
"Of course. I mean, I was so certain that she was going to hate her, or at least be incredibly cold to her. But for some reason, last night, they just struck up this conversation and Mom was in a good mood, or ... I have no idea. And she even caught us almost doing it out on the patio."
The words just slip out, and the expression on Marguerite's face changes. Suddenly I see how unfair my mom has been to her and how much that has hurt her.
"I just tried to be her friend and have an actual mother/daughter relationship with her for so long, and it's all to no avail. She doesn't care. I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with Jacqueline. She's nice and I like her a lot, but why doesn't your mom like me? Why has she hated me all this time? Why does she always try to make things so hard for me?"
"I have no idea." I shake my head, rubbing her back and bringing her in for a little hug.
"Marguerite, are you okay?" Lincoln yells from across the room, and everyone turns to look.
She cringes.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just started to feel a little dizzy," she lies, glares at me, clearly annoyed by her husband's denseness.
I wish there was something I could do.
Not that I want Mom to not get along with Jacqueline. I just wish that she was nicer to her real daughter-in-law, the one that's been there all this time, trying to be her friend.
But that's the thing about Mom. She doesn't like things that are too easy to have. The men that always went after her and showed their interest in her and promised to be good husbands, those weren’t good enough.
The ones that she has always wanted were the ones that would break her heart: the ones that didn’t need her approval, the ones that stood on their own two feet and weren’t impressed by her wealth or her family's history.
Is that what Jacqueline is doing different?
Is that why Mom likes her?
Because she has to work hard to impress her?
Because Jacqueline is so different from Marguerite?
Not only is she her own person, but she tends to live life on her own terms, and I wonder if that's exactly why I'm so attracted to her as well, and that maybe Mom and I aren't that different after all.
26
Jacqueline
Somehow I had managed to make quite an impression on Adele. I feel bad when I see Marguerite sitting in the corner and Adele not engaging with her at all and I try to include her in the conversation.
I ask about her pregnancy and even ask her if she had read any of the books that Adele and I had talked about, but it doesn't seem to work. After a little while, Marguerite just excuses herself and walks away, leaving the two of us alone.
I feel bad for her, but I like the connection that I'm forging with Dante's mother. Despite what anyone says, you always want your potential mother-in-law to like you and not add to the conflict and I'm surprised that it's actually happening.
After breakfast, the four of us head out to the beach and Adele stays behind to catch up on her reading.
I can feel the tension emanating from Marguerite and I apologize before she can say anything.
"I'm really sorry," I say as we walk down the path, carrying our towels, already dressed in bathing suits and cover-ups.
"I just can't believe that she likes you so much," she says.
She's wearing big sunglasses with an elaborate design around the corners but I can tell by the way that her lip trembles that she's about to cry.
"You can't pay attention to what she says," I tell her. "Adele seems to be enticed by people who aren't impressed by her. You have to act more aloof.”
"I can't do that. I just want her to be happy for us, you know? I want her to celebrate this baby, her first grandchild."
"I know, I know you do.” I put my arm around her.
Lincoln and Dante walk ahead of us carrying the majority of the beach supplies, the cooler, the umbrellas, and the chairs.
Dante turns briefly to look back and gives me a little smile when he sees me holding Marguerite.
"I'll put in a good word," I say. "I totally thought that she was going to hate me. But I can't make any promises. She is how she is. But for you, if you want my advice, you have to act like you don't care."
"Why? Why do I have to be like that?"
"I don't know. It's like with guys, if you act too eager, you know, to go on a date and you call him right after and you act like you like him a lot, they get turned off."
"But I did that with Lincoln and we’ve been together ever since."
"Well, you've seen that in movies, at least, right?" I joke. "When you date, you have to give people space. Otherwise, they start questioning your intentions. They think, 'Eh, maybe this person's too eager,' and nobody wants someone who is too eager."
I don't know how else to explain it. That's the best that I can do and by the expression on her face I'm not sure she fully understands.
Everything about Marguerite is written on her face. She is honest like that. Solid.
That's what I like about her and that's probably exactly what Adele, a woman who likes to play games, who likes to be charmed, who likes to be swept off her feet and who likes to be challenged, does not like about her daughter-in-law.
Our day at the beach goes well. Marguerite spends a lot of time in the water under a big hat, but enjoying everything nonetheless.
She's at that point in her pregnancy where she can't stop eating, so she snacks almost the whole time and I join her.
Lincoln and Dante sit a little bit apart from us talking more about finances and the right investments to make. I overhear part of their conversation, but he doesn't mention anything about Vasko to his brother.
I wonder why at first, but then realize that that kind of undercover operation he can't even trust his brother with. We stay on the shore for a couple of hours until it gets a little bit too hot, at which point we head back.
A little bit sunburned and exhausted from all of that relaxation, we stumble into the kitchen, using the back way into the house and find Adele sitting with a morose expression on her face at the kitchen table.
Her laptop is open before her.
"What's wrong, Mom?" Lincoln asks.
"I need to talk to your brother," she says, focusing her gaze on him and just him. "Alone," she adds.
"Yeah, sure," we all mumble.
I want to go upstairs and take a shower anyway and Marguerite is due for another nap.
At the top of the stairs, I pause briefly to try to listen in but their voices are muffled and impossible to hear. But whatever this is that she needs to talk to him about, it's not good.
27
Dante
Still riding the high from the fact that Mom has actually connected with my girlfriend, she catches me a little bit by surprise when I come in after the day at the shore and find her so cold and distant at the table.