The Year My Family Unravelled by Cynthia Dearborn

Author:Cynthia Dearborn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Affirm Press
Published: 2023-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

~

I’m brought out of my reverie when the house phone rings. Expecting Tricia, I call out to Dad that this one will be for me, then carry the phone into the bedroom, shut the door, and lean back against the mound of clothes on the bed.

‘Hello, Donna,’ says a frail voice. It takes me a moment to register who it is – the one person who calls Beth by her first name.

‘Hilda! This is Cynthia, Beth’s – I mean, Donna’s – stepdaughter. Donna is at your grandson Kev’s.’

But Beth’s mother, who I haven’t seen since the Fourth of July thirty years ago and who now must be in her nineties, has already started reciting: ‘Our father who art in heaven…’

She pauses. ‘Donna!’ she snaps. I flinch, then remember their nightly ritual.

‘Hallowed be thy name,’ I say with gusto. ‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.’

‘Give us this day …’ Hilda prompts, sounding cross that I’ve missed my cue.

Though the cadence is familiar the words are not, so I try to replicate the rhythm. ‘Give us this day and this night too. And help us get ourselves into bed. We tried our best on this very long day with every tribulation you sent our way. Dear Holy Father, and son and ghost, and Mother Mary too, please restoreth our equilibrium and … and …’

‘And lead us not into temptation,’ Hilda mutters, with me joining in a nanosecond behind. ‘But deliver us from evil,’ we jointly pray.

She pauses. There must be more.

‘For this,’ I say, ‘is the end of another nutty day in your weird but wonderful kingdom – I mean, queendom.’

‘Amen,’ Hilda says, sounding satisfied.

‘Aaa-men.’

‘Thank you, Donna,’ she mumbles. ‘Goodnight, dear.’

‘Sweet dreams, Mom!’ The taste of that rare word makes me happy and mournful at the same time.

I hang up, flop across the bed, and laugh out loud. We humans like to think we’re unique, each with our own personality, pastimes, and pains, when all we are is mix and match. Tricia misses me, Dad misses Beth, Beth’s mother thinks I am Beth, Beth thinks I’m a thief, Kev’s afraid Dad wants nothing to do with him, Dad’s afraid Kev will kill him. Ah life, a patchwork of confusions and delusions.

‘Is that Beth?’ Dad strides into the room bright-eyed. ‘Ask her when she’s coming home.’

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