How to Be an American Housewife - Margaret Dilloway [94]
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “Just lost in thought.” I put a hand on Helena’s cheek. “I’m going to have to confiscate that makeup bag.”
My daughter smiled guiltily. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to tell.” She held her white porcelain rice bowl up and scooped a wad toward her Cupid’s-bow mouth.
“I can always tell, my dear,” I said. “When you’re a mother, you’ll understand.”
It is true that the Marriage is a difficult path for some people to stay on. As years pass, however, the proposition becomes easier. The husband grows accustomed to the company of his Wife, and vice versa. This is how families attain the permanence to which we all aspire.
—from the chapter “A Map to Husbands,”
How to Be an American Housewife
Shoko
I need sunblock,” I said. Charlie handed me the pink bottle. I took off my Cubs cap to slather some onto my face, then poured it into my hand. “Did you get top of your head?”
Charlie took off his Padres cap. I patted it onto his nose and scalp. He wrinkled his face. “This stuff feels greasy.”
A cheer went up from the crowd. I stood up from the plastic seat. “What happen?”
“Home run.” Charlie pointed to the Padres player running the bases and grinned. “Looks like the Cubs are going to lose, Shoko.”
“Only third inning. Plenty of time.” I sat back down. We were sitting in the middle section of Petco Park, near the redbrick Western Metal Supply Company building, which served as the left-field foul pole, watching the Cubs and Padres play. I thought I’d never been in such a beautiful place. I could see the entire field better than on television. Beyond, I caught glimpses of the harbor, shining like a nickel in the sun. A breeze from the water hit my face. Charlie didn’t really care for baseball, but he took me anyway, even though he hated driving downtown. Those one-way streets confused him.
This being outdoors, doing things, was new to me. Charlie and I had also been walking from time to time. I wanted to get in good shape for my Japan trip, to visit Sue as well as Taro and the rest of my family. My mended heart, with the wedge cut out of it to make it smaller, was doing well. The doctors thought it would add five or more years to my life. I hoped for longer. I told Charlie, “I’m not gonna sit around waiting no more. We got to do stuff.”
Finally, Charlie had agreed. He would go with me to Japan. We took out a reverse mortgage on our home, one of those old-people loans that paid you the equity of your home until you died, and now we had enough to go.
Mike would look after the house for the three weeks we were gone. He was getting more hours at the pet store, showing up to work on time, keeping his uniform neat and clean. At last, getting more responsible. I had left him stamped envelopes and checks to pay the bills. “Don’t forget,” I warned him at least four times.
“I won’t,” he promised, and crossed his heart.
For the first time, I believed he would follow through. He had been changing too, little by little, ever since I had told him about Ronin. After I had told Sue the story in the hospital, I spoke to Mike that very evening. While I still had my courage.
Mike had stared down, rubbing his hands nervously over his hair as I talked. He gulped. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“No need for. Daddy and me, we love you.” I watched him anxiously, echoing what Charlie had said so many years ago. “Past is past, Mike.”
He closed his eyes. “I can’t take this.” He got up and left, me staring after him. There was nothing to do but hope he came back.
An hour passed. Charlie came in. “Where’s Mike? Isn’t he supposed to be here?”
“I did something.” My voice was faint. “I tell him.”
Charlie was silent for a moment. Then he said, “What for?”
“He need to know.” I looked at my husband for understanding. His lips were pressed thin. “Please, Charlie. Go home. Talk with him.”
Charlie softened. “I can’t promise anything, Shoko.” He kissed my forehead and left.
Mike returned to me the next morning. He looked tired. He said nothing, just