April 25, 2013
After faxing off the contract to Globe for the Doris Day article at Love's Travel Center, I grabbed an ice tea and got into the van to drive home. The phone rang and it was Veronica, happily I answered it because it was her birthday and she said she had been trying to reach me.
We exchanged what I call pleasantries and she sounded particularly attentive. That is unusual, I thought. Usually I get all sorts of preambles and a feeling she is distracted and eventually she tells me she is in the middle of driving to work, has arrived at her destination and so forth. Yes, yes I know...you've told me a thousand times you can only call me then while you're driving to work because you don't want to take time away from your family. So I feel like a piece of shit at the bottom of your totem pole and politely we only talk about what you want to talk about. You've already told me you don't want to hear anything about my life, animals, Charles or the past. So I say the weather has been nice/bad/great and of course the conversation drifts right where I really don't want to go, the Past. I really don't want to rehash my fuck-ups. I really don't want to gaze into the looking glass of regrets and mistakes. But, I do because it's the price I have to pay to hear my only childs voice. I can't tell you that my neighbor is walking defiantly across my field and I am stressed that my dog who is outside will notice him and take a defensive stance. I can't tell you the reason I worry is not because of my darling dog, but because this man is psycho and he has exposed himself to me as I drove by and yes I've shared it and even reported it but there's no witnesses and I was warned that he will get worse if I take any further action. He's a bully. I've been bullied all my life by people. No, I know I'm not the only one who's been bullied, but it doesn't make it any better for me when it happens.
So usually I moderate the phone call, respect you and your wishes and yell shut up to the neurotic dog in the back of the van who sets off a chain reaction when the wind changes direction who then catches the scent of 'that neighbor' who is burning trash and looking in my direction as I drive by. But this time, I was in a parking lot and not at home, and could give you my focus and you did the same, Veronica. This conversation was different from the beginning. You actually sounded like you were actually interested in me.
I can't recall right now what led up to it but she told me that she had something to reveal to me as she felt the time was right. She has been talking to Nandi. Oh! Not only that, she has seen him several times. Really?? She gave some highlights but said that I should call him tonight. I said that he told me not to contact him ever again. She said do it. It'll be OK. She also said they did the DNA test and it confirmed he is her biological father as I had always said. I cried. We spoke a little more and then she said someone wanted to talk to me, Her name is Alexis. Then I spoke to Thomas. Then Damien. Then Jim. Then Mikayla. James didn't want to talk and Brandon was at college. Then back to Alexis. Then Veronica. Then Alexis. Then Veronica and then Alexis again. I asked them all basically the same in an age appropriate conversing style. Favorite sport, what are they having on their pizza, have you ever tried anchovies. I told these children I have never met that I loved them and they offered the same back. I was touched. I was particularly moved by Thomas mentioning our visit in the hospital when I had surgery a few years ago. This morning when I got up, my head was racing with these memories of the conversations, savoring each childs voice, appreciating the kindness and compassion in Veronica's voice that I hadn't heard for decades. I slept poorly during the night wondering if this was going to continue or was this just something for the moment.
I went over the details of our conversation...she told me that she spent time with Nandi at his home(s) in California and he was excited to show her bits and pieces of who he is. Of course he would. He's narcissic by nature. Another one of those things that appalls me in most people. And those kinds of people are drawn to me unfortunately like a moth to the flame. Sure, they are fascinating at first, successful and driven, but in time, it gets quite old just listening how the world revolves around them only. And damn if you ever show them up and never happened to tell them...they'll take their toys home and thrown them at you on the way. I'm the kind of person who doesn't have to brag or make the world notice me. I really don't care. I'm busy listening to songs in my head like songwriter Mike Nesmith's Different Drum and Imagine by John Lennon. I'm not interested in running my life so hard that I have no time for inner peace. I don't care about driving a Lotus formula car on the interstate or where I bought that $1,000 pair of socks. And I certainly don't care for hearing about dining in the most expensive restaurant in Beverly Hills because I can cook just as well in the privacy of my own kitchen thankyouverymuch. So once these 'reflection lover's find that I am rapidly not going to spoon feed their ego, they drop me like a lead balloon, making me feel as though I was the reason for their departure. It used to break my heart, it really did, but now I understand it especially after working for Doris Day and telling my own therapist that my husband's behavior is much like how my stallion behaved the firsst time he was presented with a mare in estrus. He was so overcome with pure raw instinct when we were alone for the first time that he couldn't figure out which end [of the mare he had to penetrate] to go for. Front? Side? So after a few mistakes she [the mare] lost her patience and just kicked the crap out of him until he settled down and put some brain into it and listened to her. He still never got it, so he resigned himself to his vice of windsucking, just as Charles chain-smokes and drinks. So my stallion will never get it right and neither will my soon-to-be-ex husband. Both need a rap on the side of the head to settle down and pay attention. I confuse the two...
So ironically, both Veronica and Nandi [once I spoke to him] asked me why I chose to not tell him of his love child. I skirt around the issue saying that I wanted to keep it to myself or that I was aftraid of this or that...but they both still press on for the truth as my reasons don't sound logical. I could tell them it was because Nandi told me he was Jewish. Back in 1975, my brother already told my bigoted dad that the pending baby was an 'Oreo' because my brother had observed me in an alley banging a black man in Oakland. I roared with laughter when I was told this. My dad disowned me anyway because that's just who he was. Always looking for some excuse to crucify someone. My mother always knew the truth. She knew that I had timed my only interlude with Nandi in hopes of producing a pregnancy. I came home that night, and I'll never forget the look on her face...were you succesful she asked? Yup, I said and went to bed dreaming of my little cells going thru their thing as I had learned in human biology. I was aware of my baby when she was a gamete. Three weeks later, just a few days after the Fourth of July, I was at Planned Parenthood in Walnut Creek. They asked me if I wanted an abortion. I said hell no and left. My mom, who was in the lobby looked at me as if I was some kind of sorceress. She said you have to tell Nandi. I said I wasn't sure yet.
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I thought about my future. I thought about telling Nandi and what may happen when I would do so. I had only known him for such a short time. I knew he didn't really care about me that much. He had told me he was not planning to stay around for long, just to pick up a few credits then transfer to a university. He said he was going to be a famous doctor. He didn't make me feel special. He took me to Jack in the Box and picked what he wanted me to eat. I knew all about him, and he didn't know a thing about me. But he was bright, witty, cute and of good family background. I felt that I didn't want to force him into a long term relationship with me because of my feelings about myself. I had many family issues and didn't want to complicate my life nor anyone elses. Young men always found fault with me. But through all that thinking process, I decided I would tell him. We had a class together the next day and he was going to pick me up. I decided that I would tell him after class and we could go out afterwards. So I changed my mind. I didn't say anything to him about the baby. Three months passed and one Sunday my mom and I went to the mall on Sunday to have mimosas in a cafe. I was walking across the parking lot with her and ahead of us, just going into the mall was Nandi and a young woman. They were holding hands and laughing. My mom caught the sight as well and hugged me. I decided at that point in time, I would not tell him. I did however make a promise that I would tell my baby when he or she was old enough to understand. That was a promise I stuck to and met. Veronica always knew her real fathers name and the circumstances...and I did find him.
