This is an excerpt from WHEN YOU COME HOME, a recently completed novel about an American family in the aftermath of Desert Storm. Characters are: Mimi, who's husband died in Vietnam War; Tony, her 21 year-old son, whom she's raised alone, and who has just returned from the first Gulf war; and the 19 year-old Lily, whom Mimi raised as her own, when her Vietnam vet father and abused mother disappeared. This section was selected to celebrate women and their legacy of care, against the backdrop of man-made wars.
Where there's a will there's a way. That was Lily's motto, a gift from Mimi, which she carries with her most of the time. She hears Mimi's voice, cheerful and steady, like a kindergarten teacher, saying it. She remembers the day her father dumped her at Mimi's, the feel of her hands on her face, arms, legs as she lay on the shag rug as limp as her Raggedy-Ann, wondering if she had died, Mimi pawing her till she knew she was a living girl again, then lifting her and carrying her into her bed, where she said she would always help her, if she promised to help herself too. She told her a secret--that not too long ago she'd felt so alone that she'd thrown herself on the rug and cried for three days and three nights till there were inches of water all around and the rug was almost ruined. They laughed. So then I had two problems. Did that make sense? They agreed it did not. So I changed my attitude. Want me to help you change attitudes? When Lily said, Please, she rocked her in her arms and said, Repeat after me, Where there's a will, there's a way....
Mimi, Mimi--how beautiful she looked as she said, I will always help you, always be there. When she was growing up in Mimi's house, Mimi was often not around. She was busy with her births, afraid to turn away any patients, not only because she loved catching her babies, but because they needed the money. Babies came at all hours, and so dinners were often late or makeshift, holidays often celebrated the day after, parents days, school plays, and soccer games often missed. But she and Tony hardly cared. Not only because they had each other but because when Mimi wasn't with them, she still seemed there. He'd say, What do you think she would want us to make for supper? And Lily would come up with something that seemed right. She more than he seemed to have direct access to Mimi's mind and ways.
Without Mimi, she doubts she would have survived; without Nancy, though, she would have remained a girl-pup. Nancy guided her to the gates of womanhood, and assured her that when she was ready she could enter and no one would laugh.
Some of it Nancy imparted without knowing through what one women's magazine article referred to as "women's naturalistic modeling." Small stuff it might seem, but detail upon detail added up to a whole womanly style, the article said and Lily agreed. Nancy's sway when walking, her head-toss when starting to laugh, her sincere gaze when giving her point of view even if she disagreed--all these and a million other moves Lily would watch spellbound. Then later, at home, she would try them out. She'd never be a swayer, but studying then practicing Nancy's amazing taffy walk brought such significant change. One of Nancy's nicknames for her had been "Jumping Bean," but soon her own improvised slo-mo walks and turns glimpsed in the mirror seemed so beautiful that she swore her Jumping-Bean days were over. She must have caught that spastic stuff from Mimi, from Mimi's naturalistic modeling. From watching Mimi running, running everywhere--to and from the car, to get to or from a birth, and in between careening to the supermarket, the bank, down the hallway to the phone, the stove, the bathroom. It could be thrilling, racing around the Valley at her side, to sex ed classes, to pre-natal exams, even to births. Lily knew that in other homes, women would walk from room to room, and sometimes sit down, to do nothing in particular. Till Nancy entered her life, though, she'd rarely seen it up close.
In long leisurely afternoons, Nancy demonstrated this other way. They'd wander through Ames, sometimes for no reason at all, looking and touching item after item, aisle after aisle. But with no rush or anxiety, important things still got accomplished. First bra, first lipstick, first heels, first tight jeans--all these Nancy oversaw. From Nancy she learned to detect and stop certain "beast moves," as Nancy jokingly called her habit of circling like a dog when nervous, or whinnying when embarrassed. And Nancy gave her the greatest tool of all, an actual tool, the duct tape mitten, and taught her to make them herself to remove the "beast fur" which clung to her, especially on winter wools. Without Mimi, she doubts she would have survived; without Nancy, though, she would have remained a girl-pup. Nancy guided her to the gates of womanhood, and assured her that when she was ready she could enter and no one would laugh. And now here she was. Holding Nancy's hand as she wobbled towards Motherland--that was the least she could do. And soon she'd walk there herself, and Nancy would hold her hand, that's how it worked. The Wondrous Women's Web.....