Say When by Elizabeth Berg
“You’re going to talk about my presents!”
“How do you know?”
She pulled her stocking hat low on her forehead. “I have my sources.”
“Take the dog out, and after he goes, get in the car and wait for me. It’s warm in there.”
“I don’t get cold,” Zoe said. “I am reptile woman. I shall play in the snow with my companion until you report to me.” She ran out the door with the puppy at her heels.
“Guess we should have gotten her a dog a long time ago, huh?” Griffin said.
“He’s been good for her.”
“You know, I haven’t gotten her anything yet for Christmas. I was thinking of an aluminum bat.”
Ellen nodded. “I was, too. But I’ll get her something else.”
“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” he asked. God, she was thin.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Come eat with us.”
“I don’t think so, Griffin.”
“It’s not against the rules.”
“I think it would be confusing.”
“Just come and eat. Drive yourself—you can leave right afterward, or whenever you want. Come on, Zoe’s making meatballs.”
She looked out the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, considering. Then she said, “All right. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Zoe prided herself on making each meatball exactly the same size. She lined them up on a cookie sheet as she prepared them, inspecting them from above and from the side at frequent intervals.
Griffin made a salad and some marinara sauce, tried to quiet the nervous feeling that had settled in his stomach. He had just put water on to boil when the doorbell rang.
Ellen stood before him when he opened the door. “What, you ring the doorbell now?” he said. Then, when she pulled flowers from behind her back with a flourish, he felt bad. She had only wanted to surprise him.
After she hung up her coat, she went to one of the high kitchen cupboards for a vase. It was odd, seeing her perform this familiar chore when she no longer lived here. It tore at him and it pleased him.
“Smells good!” she said, sitting at the table. And then, to Zoe, “Well. There’s some nice work.”
“Wine?” Griffin asked.
“Yes, please,” Zoe answered, then laughed at her own joke. “Hey, Mommy,” she said. “Do you notice anything about these meatballs?”
Ellen took a long swallow from the wineglass Griffin handed her, then said, “Uh huh. They look delicious.”
“But do you notice anything?”
Ellen looked carefully. “Ah. They are all the exact same size.”
“Yes!” Zoe said. “And now, for your grand prize, I will be right back.”
As she ran upstairs, the phone rang. Ellen started to move reflexively toward it, then sat still as Griffin answered. “Zoe!” he called. “It’s Grace!”
He listened until she picked up the phone, then hung up. “She’s got a girlfriend, did you know that?”
“Yes. I’m glad.”
“Could be the beginning of the end.”
“Oh, it’s nice. Grace makes her play dolls a little and Zoe makes Grace play hockey a little.”
Griffin dumped the pasta into the boiling water, then came to sit at the table with Ellen. “Tell me something. Are you okay? Because—no offense, but you look like shit.”
She laughed. “Thank you very much.”
“Seriously, Ellen.”
“I’m fine. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking. A lot.”
“And?” He swirled the wine in his glass. This was a nice cabernet.
“Oh…you know.”
He looked up. “I don’t.”
“Well, I’ve been trying to understand why I…I’ve just been trying to understand some things, that’s all.”
“And how is that going?”
“How that is going is that I don’t understand much, all right? Except that there is a lot wrong with me.” She nodded as though agreeing with herself. “There really is.”
Silence but for the nearly conversational bubble of the pasta water. And then he said, “Come home, Ellen.”
She sighed. “See, Griffin? You didn’t even hear what I said.”
“I did hear you. I don’t feel the same way about those words that you do, that’s all.”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned forward, took one of her hands in his own. “Ellen. Did it ever occur to you that part of the reason I love you is because of your flaws?”
She pulled her hand back. “Oh, Jesus.”
“Just listen. If you would only—”
Zoe clattered down the stairs and bounded into the kitchen. “Here,” she said to Ellen, “is your most excellent present!” She handed her mother a small package, wrapped in the Sunday comics and tied with red yarn. “Open it!”
“Should I?”
“Yes, I made it!”
Ellen unwrapped what appeared to be a ceramic plaque. Griffin could only see the back of it, but whatever was on the front was having a strong effect—Ellen, her smile frozen, her eyes bright with tears, hugged Zoe, saying, “Thank you. This is beautiful.” She held the plaque up for Griffin to see. A simple message, written in exuberant script, Welcome home!!!!
“I told you I was learning cursive,” Zoe said. “And this is for you, because you’re coming home at Christmas, right?”
Nothing. “Mom?” Zoe said quietly. “That’s what you said, remember?”
“Yes, I do remember,” Ellen said. And then, to Griffin, “Are we about ready to eat? Because I’m starving!”
“But do you like your present?” Zoe asked. She leaned onto the table, pressed into her mother.
Ellen kissed the top of Zoe’s head. “I love my present. And I love you.”
“And you love Daddy, right?”
Ellen looked quickly at Griffin, and haltingly said, “Oh, now.” A nervous laugh.
“Zoe,” Griffin said, quickly. “Get some plates out of the cupboard, will you?”
“I love Daddy,” Ellen said. “Zoe? I love Daddy.” She put her fingers up to her mouth, cleared her throat. Then, her hands folded before her on the table. “So.”
Griffin did not speak, nor did he move at all; and then Zoe, giggling, said, “I know.”
“Will you get some plates, Zoe?” Griffin asked, nearly whispering.
She sighed. “Do I have to do everything around here?”
Apparently, she did.
Ellen stayed until Zoe’s bedtime, then tucked her in. When she came downstairs, Griffin had started a fire, and he patted the sofa cushion for her to sit beside him.
She leaned back, sighed deeply. “This is nice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They sat silently for a while, listening to the crackle and hiss of the fire, and then Ellen said, “Griffin, you know what you started to say before, about loving me because of what’s wrong with me?”
“I didn’t exactly say that. I said that your flaws were one of the things I loved about you.”
“Well, Griffin. With all due respect, that’s idiotic.”
“It’s not.”
“It is. I mean, I don’t want to be taken home because I’m the ugliest puppy in the box.”
He looked at her. “All right. I’m going to try to tell you something, here. Don’t interrupt.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Don’t interrupt.”
“Okay!”
“I think that loving someone for their flaws—”
“I think you said, along with their flaws.”
He sighed. “Ellen. Jesus.”
“What?”
“You’re interrupting. Shut up. Listen to me.”
She moved away from him, turned to face him. “Sorry.”
“Listen. Don’t say anything until I tell you you can talk. Okay? We’ll take turns. I talk, then you talk. Okay?
She nodded.
“Go
She raised an eyebrow, permission to speak, and he said, “No! I’ll remember. In fact, I do remember, exactly. Loving someone for their flaws, that’s what I said. That’s what I started to say. But I believe it makes sense. Because, Ellen, we are all flawed individuals. What people want, I think, is to be known completely. Didn’t you say something like that about Mr. Wheels?” She started to answer, and he held up a hand. “That was a rhetorical question, Ellen. I will tell you when it’s your turn. You’ll know, because I’ll say, ‘It’s your turn.’”
He drew in a breath. “Now. I know you can love, Ellen. I’ve seen how you love Zoe, everyone who knows you sees that. I’ve seen how you love fucked-up people like Dan Swaylow, remember that burnout case you were so nice to in college? The guy with the fried brain, who cried all the time? You were wonderful with him. But the danger for you, Ellen, is when someone your own size wants to love you back. So to speak. You’re so afraid. But you’re also so full of love, Ellen. I know it.
“Not everyone does. You’re a pain in the ass. Most people would wonder why I bother with you. Why I bother with you is I know what else you are. I see you, Ellen. You don’t have to hide here, don’t you see that? You’re home.”
She blinked once, twice.
“What I’ve learned since you’ve been gone is that there isn’t a bad guy and a good guy when people in a relationship have trouble. There are two bad guys. And I have come to understand my own part in our…undoing. And I want…” His throat tightened, and his voice hoarsened. “I want you to come home now and for us to have our little family back, and I want us to do it right this time. I want us to wake up. To be careful. To pay attention. To offer each other a kind of respect that was missing from both sides before. I want you to go upstairs and get into bed with me, Ellen, and I want you to look at me and see me. And in the morning, I want you sitting across from me. And the next morning and the next morning after that until one of us croaks. Come back home, Ellen. Please. Don’t…waste this. Don’t lose it.”
She sat staring into her lap, unmoving. “You can talk now,” he said.
She looked up. “You know, you talk about listening. But I don’t think you heard what I said, about not wanting to be loved for my flaws. I want to be loved for the good things about me. But I…” She swallowed. “I can’t find too many. I don’t think I do anything well but love Zoe. And even that…Oh, I can’t just come back and let you love me when I have so little respect for myself, Griffin. I can’t respect you, that way. I have so much work to do before I…”
“Why don’t you do it here?” he said. “Wouldn’t that be convenient? Wouldn’t that be good for Zoe?”
“What would be good for Zoe is to have two good parents who are happy to be with each other.”
“And you don’t think that’s possible for us.”
“Oh, Griffin. I don’t see how you can ever really forgive me. So much has happened, I don’t know if we can…” She sighed. “I just don’t know.”
He leaned back, rubbed his neck. And then he said, “Wait here. I have a present for you.”
“No,” she said, but he was up and gone to the basement. When he came back into the living room, he handed Ellen a box wrapped in silver paper.
“Open it,” he said. “Please.”
She took the box from him, carefully unwrapped it. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Where did you…” She smiled and held up the ballerina doll, touching her dress, her blue hair, her stained forehead. “You dyed her hair!”
He shrugged. “Well. Yeah, yeah, I did.”
She laughed out loud. “I can’t believe you did this! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
“But I don’t have anything for you!”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, God, Griffin. I’ve got to go; I have to get up so early tomorrow. And I’ve been so tired.”
“Why don’t you stay for just a while longer?”
“I can’t.”
He walked her to the door, kissed her cheek. “Thank you again,” she said, and closed the door softly behind her. He watched her walk to her car, watched her taillights disappear, and then went to the fireplace to stare into the flames.
Upstairs, he checked on Zoe, who slept soundly, all of her covers on the floor. He covered her back up, then went into the bedroom and lay on his own bed, his hands laced over his belly. Well, what had he expected? That everything would be neatly resolved in an evening? That, like the children who sat on his lap believed, he was capable of miracles?
If only it were so. He got up, stretched, and contemplated what he should do tonight. Read? Watch some cable show?
On the dresser lay his Santa beard, and Griffin put it on, then added his hat. He looked at himself in the mirror, saw the stubborn transformation. When he was dressed like this, everything really did change. He put on his wire-rimmed glasses and headed downstairs. Santa would clean up the kitchen, then surf the ‘net for baseball memorabilia for Zoe.
In the living room, he drew the curtains, turned off the lights, and made sure the fire was out. He locked the front door, put the chain lock on. In the kitchen, he turned on the radio and began rinsing dishes. “Because we need a little Christmas, right this very minute,” he sang along. His glasses fogged, and his beard seemed to grow heavier with the rising steam.
And then he heard a noise at the front door. He turned off the water and stood listening. Yes. Someone was out there, trying to break in. Only a week ago, someone had broken into a house the next block over and stolen nearly everything of value, including Christmas gifts.
Griffin moved quietly to the front door, reached into the closet for Zoe’s wooden baseball bat. He reached up to wipe off the perspiration that had formed on his forehead, and realized he was still wearing his costume. Well, Merry Christmas, asshole. Here’s your gift: a concussion.
The door creaked slowly open, and Griffin took in a breath, raised the bat up high. When the door stopped because of the chain lock, he heard someone whisper, “Damn it!” It was a woman he was hearing. Ellen!
Relieved, he put down the bat and peered through the crack in the door. “What are you doing!”
“I was…I wanted to surprise you! Hey. You’re in your costume.”
“Just…neck up.” He undid the lock, opened the door fully. “Come in.”
She stood still. “I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise you!”
“Come in,” he said.
“No. Just leave the door open, and you go back to whatever you were doing. What were you doing?”
“Washing dishes.”
“Well, go back and do it.”
“Ellen…”
“Please. Please?”
“Oh, all right.” He shut the door, went back to the sink, and began rinsing the silverware. And then, in the window glass before him, he saw the reflection of Ellen, standing there and holding out a gift.
“Merry Christmas,” she said.
He turned around, wiped his hands on the dishcloth. “Considering the way I’m dressed, I’d say this is backwards.”
“Well, I’d say it’s about time.”
She handed him a small white box, wrapped with green ribbon.
“You didn’t have to go get me something, Ellen.”
“I had it, already. I just had to go get it. Open it.”
He took the lid off the box and saw, lying on a folded square of a paper napkin, his wedding ring.
With some difficulty, he asked, “How did you find this?”
She sat down at the kitchen table, smiling. “After you told me what you did with it, I went and looked for it. It wasn’t easy, even with so little snow! I must have walked back and forth in that field forty times. The guy that drives around in the security car asked me what the hell I was doing, and then he helped me for a while. But he gave up. I found it just as I was ready to give up myself—the su
He put the box on the table. “Well, thank you, Ellen.”
She looked at the ring, then up at him. “Aren’t you going to put it on?”
“I’ll put it on when I’m married again.”
“We’re still married!”
“You know what I mean.”
“We’re still married.”
He stood still for a long time, listening to the sound of his own breathing, then slipped the ring back on his finger. It was cold, at first; but then it warmed against his skin.
She stood. “Okay. Well, I’m glad you have it back.”
“Are you…What are you doing, Ellen?”
“I thought…Look, I want to tell you something. I want to try. On the way home, I thought about everything you told me tonight, Griffin. And here’s what I want to say back. Two things. One is, I think our marriage was like a house we stopped using. I mean, you know, you move in, and there are all these terrific rooms, and you think about how you’re going to read in the living room, and write nice little notes on the dining room table, and have tea over there in that corner, and naps over there, and then you just end up being in the same two rooms all the time. And after a while it just feels odd to be anywhere else, even though you’d like to be somewhere else. You begin to feel as though you can’t use the living room because you’re never there. I think you and I stopped ourselves from doing so much. We got swallowed up by a domestic routine that didn’t leave room for us as the individuals we are. I think I gravitated toward a…Well, toward a love affair, because I thought it would free me, it would let me be all these wonderful things that I couldn’t be with you. It would make me be someone I would like. I felt like somewhere in me was this wild and beautiful thing, capable of so much more than I was being, and I needed this exotic love to let myself out of a jail I thought you had put me in. But I know now that I was the keeper of the keys. I’ve learned that, Griffin, and now I have to do some things about myself. And I just don’t know how it will go if I try to do it in your presence. I don’t know. It might not work.”
He nodded. He couldn’t force her. He’d said all he could.
“But anyway, I thought I’d give you the ring, and…Well, we’ll see.”
“Okay.”