Taking Terri Mueller Read online

  Barkley was at the door waiting for them. “What smells burned?” her father said as they walked in.

  “Oops!” Terri ran into the kitchen. She’d forgotten to take the potatoes off the stove. “That makes two times today I did this!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” her father said, dumping the burned potatoes into the garbage. “It could happen to anyone.”

  Terri took a deep breath. She didn’t feel sleepy anymore. “Daddy,” she heard herself saying. “I want to see my birth certificate.”

  “Your birth—Where’d that come from?”

  She hesitated. Should she stop before she made a fool of herself? Or before they arrived at that point of stubborn silence where she would have to challenge him to get what she wanted? The worst part was, she didn’t know exactly what it was that she wanted. “I want to see it,” she said softly. “My birth certificate—I just want to. Okay?”

  “Well, it’s in the box.” He kept a small, locked, grey metal box in his room with all their important papers. His Army discharge, their health insurance, tax forms, things like that. She was aware of the box, but had never seen the contents. She felt that he was waiting for her to withdraw the request.

  “Can I see it?” she said again.

  He shrugged. “If you want to.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  He brought the box into the kitchen, put it on the table, and took the key from his keychain. She watched as he sorted through several manila envelopes. Then he handed her a piece of stiff paper bordered in red. She held the paper in both hands and read the words. She felt very nervous and at first it didn’t make any sense.

  This is to certify that Terri Lee Mueller was bom . . . in the City of Oakland, California, . . . in the County of . . . to Kathryn Susso Mueller and Philip James Mueller . . . on the eighth day of April, 197— . . .

  Slowly the words arranged themselves into sentences. Yes, there it was, black on white. She had been born—to a mother and a father. The only thing that actually came as a surprise was her mother’s middle name. Susso. She hadn’t known that. “Was that my mother’s maiden name?”

  “Yes.” He held out his hand for the paper and locked it back into the box. “Feel better now?” A little smile, as if they’d had a fight—no, a struggle of some sort—and he had won. She felt a kind of vague shame. What have you found out? What difference did that make?

  But later, in bed, her eyes open, staring at the dark ceiling, the thought came to her with force that something was wrong. She had never let herself think this, in these exact words, but she felt she had known it for a long time. She thought of all her questions. She thought of their moves, how they had no place of their own, belonged nowhere special, and to no one but each other. She lay very still and thought it again. Something is wrong.

  SIX

  “Hello?”

  “Hello—is Shaundra there, is she awake?”

  “Who’s this?”

  “Terri.”

  “Hi, Terri!”

  “Hi, who’s this?”

  “Barry.”

  “Oh, hi, Barry, what are you doing up so early?”

  “Talking to you. You called to talk to me, didn’t you?”

  “Well, actually, hate to disappoint you, but—”

  “Hey, Terri? Guess what? I got chosen captain of the traffic patrol.”

  “You did! Who chose you?”

  “All the other traffic patrol kids.”

  “That’s really good, Barry. Do I have to call you Captain Barry from now on? Captain Barry, can I talk to your sister?”

  “What do you want to talk to her for?”

  “Captain Barry! This is General Mueller. Please get Private Shaundra at once!”

  “Yes, sir, General. Bye, Terri.”

  “Bye, Barry.”

  “Hello?”

  “Shaundra, it’s me. Are you awake?”

  “No, I’m sleeping, bozo. What time is it?”

  “Six-thirty.”

  “Six-thirty! What are you doing up so early? I thought you didn’t have to go to the airport until nine o’clock.”

  “I woke up and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Thinking about Aunt Vivian coming—well, I just wanted to say hello to you, Shaundra, because I probably won’t get to see you until Monday.”

  “I hope you have a wonderful time,” Shaundra said. “I hope your Aunt Vivian has a wonderful time.”

  “We will. She will. We always do.”

  “How come she’s only staying for the weekend, though?”

  “I told you, airhead, she has a job and she can’t get time off.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, then Terri hung up. Her father was still asleep, so she got dressed and took Barkley out for a walk. It was a still, moist autumn morning. She cut down a side street and up the hill behind the old church to the field. The sun came out and a few little clouds passed overhead. There were birds in the thorn apple trees. While Barkley ran around, very excited about being outside so early, Terri picked an armful of asters and goldenrod.

  At home she put the flowers in a glass jar and set it on the bureau. They glowed and made the room look special and welcoming.

  As soon as they finished breakfast she and her father put Barkley out on the enclosed back porch and drove to the airport. In the airport, Terri looked around, but didn’t see her aunt. She tensed: that old unreasonable fear. Then she heard her aunt’s voice, full and carrying. “Terri! Philly!” But she still didn’t see her.

  “Where is she?”

  Talking Terri by the shoulders, her father turned her. There, coming through the security gate, was her aunt, completely dressed in purple and almost dwarfed by her suitcase, umbrella, and several shopping bags.

  Terri ran to her, her aunt dropped everything, and they hugged hard. “Darling! Terri!” Her aunt’s eyes were wet.

  “Now your turn, Philly,” she said to her brother.

  “Viv—” He bent down and kissed her. “So good to see you.

  “And you, honey!” She took him by the shoulders and looked into his face for a long time, then, apparently satisfied, kissed him soundly on each cheek.

  That done, Vivian distributed her packages—suitcase to Phil, shopping bags to Terri—and marched ahead of them out of the building toward the parking lot. Terri’s father shared an amused look with her. “Vivian,” he called. “You don’t know where the truck is parked. Better wait for us.”

  “Hurry up, Philly! I don’t want to waste a moment of this visit.”

  Her aunt was under five feet, but Terri had long ago noticed that she never acted short or small. She had a big voice and lots of strong opinions which she didn’t hesitate to air. And besides this, she never let Terri’s father forget that he was her younger brother. She insisted on calling him Philly.

  “Viv,” Phil Mueller said as they drove home, “you make me feel like a baseball team. How about doing me tbe favor of calling me Phil or Philip.”

  “You know how many years you’ve been saying that same thing?” She squeezed Terri’s arm to her side. “I don’t see any reason to stop calling you Philly. It’s just my affectionate name for my kid brother.”

  “How do you expect my daughter to respect me when she hears me called a kid brother?”

  “Well, that’s what you are, Philly, and that’s what you’re going to remain, no matter how old you get!”

  “You two,” Terri said, happily. Her father’s and her aunt’s bickering made her feel as if hardly any time had passed since Vivian’s last visit. She inched closer to her aunt. It was so good having her here. She wanted to savor every moment. She had been thinking about asking her aunt some of the questions that were bothering her, but she was afraid that would change things. Aunt Vivian’s visit was for enjoyment and happiness.

  At home, while Aunt Vivian unpacked in her room, Terri and her father made lunch. “Pastrami sandwich, Viv?” Phil called.

  “Not with my ulcer, Phil,” she said, coming into the kitch
en. She set a bottle of Maalox on the counter and put the teakettle on to boil. “Tea and cottage cheese will do for me.” She’d brought a little packet of an herbal tea called Red Zinger.

  “It’s really red,” Terri said.

  “Try it, darling, it’s lovely.”

  They talked about Terri’s school. Her aunt wanted to know about every class and how Terri was doing, and then all about Shaundra. “So she has two little brothers?”

  “Well, not that little. Barry is eleven.”

  “Well, poor Barry,” Phil said. “He’ll get to be thirty-five and as far as his older sister is concerned he’ll still be in short pants.”

  Vivian laughed. “That’s right. You little brothers can never catch up with your big sisters.”

  “Not in years, maybe,” Terri’s father said.

  “Not in anything. I’ll always have more experience and more wisdom than you.”

  Phil Mueller’s laugh exploded. “Vivian, you’re not only stubborn, you’re downright unbearable.”

  She stirred her tea. “No, I’m serious. Every year you live, you learn more things. I’m ten years older than you, you can’t get away from that. That gives me a perspective you don’t have.”

  Terri, slathering mustard on her sandwich, was aware of the crackle of some real tension between her father and her aunt. Secrets. They’ve got secrets. The thought came unbidden. It fell into place next to something is wrong.

  Nothing on her aunt’s visit went the way Terri had thought it would. Perhaps it was her? Terri herself? She kept seeing and hearing things in ways she wouldn’t have only a year ago. Did a year make that much difference? And then, too, all the plans they’d made with Nancy had to be scrapped, because a few days before, Nancy had come down with a hard case of the flu.

  Later that afternoon they drove over to Nancy’s so Vivian could at least meet her. Nancy was lying on the couch in a plaid bathrobe. “You don’t feel any better?” Phil said, kissing her.

  “At least . . . I’m back with the living,” Nancy croaked. “You should have seen me yesterday.” She held out a limp hand to Vivian. “I’m really glad to meet you.”

  “Well! So you’re Nancy.” Vivian looked all around. The apartment was a mess. Leif was sitting on the couch next to his mother with his thumb stuck in his mouth. The shades were drawn. Terri was reminded that the week before when she’d come over to babysit, Nancy had said, “Frankly, Terri, I’m real anxious about meeting your aunt. She’s so important to Phil. I’m going to go all out to make a positive impression.”

  “Poor Nancy,” Terri said. Her hair looked sticky, her nose was red, and her big wonderful eyes were half-swollen.

  “I know, I look terrible,” she said. She blew her nose. There was a wastebasket full of used tissues next to her.

  Terri indicated Leif’s thumb. “I didn’t know he did that.”

  “Oh . . . just when he gets upset.” Nancy’s voice trailed away. She looked pretty upset herself.

  They stood around for a few minutes, making talk about the weather and Aunt Vivian’s plane trip. Then Nancy said in an exhausted voice, “You guys go. I’m not fit company.” Phil kissed her again, and they all trailed out.

  “She seems very nice,” Vivian said when they were in the truck, but the way she said it, Terri wasn’t sure if she meant it.

  “Nancy’s usually much nicer,” she said. “She’s never quiet like today. She must really be sick. I never saw Nancy so blah.”

  “Terri’s right,” her father said. “It was an awful way for you to meet her, Viv.”

  “I’m sure . . .” She started asking questions about Nancy—how old she was, where her family lived, and how she supported herself and Leif. She didn’t say anything outright negative, but Phil sounded edgy as he answered, and Terri felt right in the middle. By the time they got home everyone was in a grouchy mood. Her father turned on the TV and her aunt stretched out on the couch saying she must be having jet lag.

  “Terri, would you get my cigarettes? I have a pack of Players in my purse. It’s on your bureau, dear.”

  “You should stop smoking, Viv,” her father said.

  “Well, I’ve tried, dear, but when I get nervous I want a cigarette.”

  “I’m sure it’s not good for your ulcer, either.”

  “Now, Philly—”

  “I’ll get the cigarettes,” Terri said hastily. In her room she poked around in Aunt Vivian’s pocketbook—it was more like a huge carpetbag with wooden handles, full of a jumble of things. As she fumbled inside, Vivian’s wallet fell open and Terri saw a picture of her aunt, standing in front of a house with two cute grinning boys, neither much older than she was, both with their arms around Vivian.

  Terri stared. Who were they? Were they brothers? They looked alike and stood slouched on one hip in exactly the same easy manner. Did they work in the shoe store with her aunt? There was something careless about the way they stood with her between them, as if they’d known her for a long time.

  The plastic envelope fell over and there was another picture, this one of a man in a green shirt, holding up a fish. Stop, she told herself, you are snooping, but she kept staring at first one picture, then the other. Who were these people? Why did Vivian have their pictures in her wallet? She flipped the plastic envelopes rapidly. More pictures... no one she knew . . . naturally. But why did Aunt Vivian have these pictures in her wallet and not a single one of her or her father? Weren’t they all Aunt Vivian had in the world, just as she was all they had?

  “Terri?” Aunt Vivian called. “Did you find them?”

  “Yes. Coming.” Disturbed, she took out the cigarettes and closed the wooden handles.

  Sunday morning when she woke up she saw that her aunt was also awake. She sat up, pushing the hair out of her face. “Good morning, Aunt Vivian.”

  “Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well on that cot?”

  “Oh, fine,” Terri said.

  Aunt Vivian lit a cigarette. “It’s sweet of you to let me have your bed.”

  “No, I’m glad to do it. It’s nice waking up with someone else right here to talk to.” She yawned and pushed her pillow up behind her head. Then, coming more awake, she said, “Aunt Vivian? Could I ask you something?”

  “Of course.” She pursed her lips and blew a smoke ring.

  For a moment Terri was distracted. “I didn’t know you could do that!” Vivian grinned and blew another ring, but this one was only half-formed.

  “We all have our little talents,” she said. “What’d you want to ask, dear?”

  “Did you know my mother?”

  “Mmm.” Vivian bent over to tap ashes into an ashtray on the floor.

  “What did she look like?”

  “Well—” Vivian straightened up. “A tall, handsome woman. That’s what I’d say.”

  “Do I look like her?”

  “Oh, Terri . . . I don’t know. It was so long ago . . .” Her voice became uncharacteristically vague. She put out her cigarette and, getting out of bed, pulled on a purple kimono. “I better get my shower now before Phil gets up and there’s a rush on the bathroom.” She dug around in her carpetbag. “I hope I didn’t forget my shower cap. Oh, here—”

  “Aunt Vivian.” Terri swung her legs over the side of the cot. “I want to ask you some other things.”

  “Mmm, what’s that, dear?” Her back turned, Vivian rummaged in her suitcase.

  “I’ve been wondering about a lot of things. What happened to the man who ran his car into my mother’s car?” Vivian looked over her shoulder at Terri. “What are you asking? Why do you bring this up?”

  “There are so many things I don’t know,” Terri said. “I don’t even know how old my mother was when—”

  Turning away, her hands tucked into the sleeves of the kimono, Vivian said, “Terri, you should ask Phil whatever you want to know. It’s not up to me to say.” She took her clothes and left.

  Terri thought of that day she had tried riding her bike to the top of
Dunn Street Hill, her heart beating hard, her legs tiring, but thinking that sheer stubbornness would somehow get her to the top. Well, it hadn’t. And maybe trying to find out about the past was the same thing. She just wasn’t going to be successful, no matter how hard she tried.

  Sunday dinner was their last meal together. Her aunt was going on an early plane the next morning. It seemed to Terri that Vivian had hardly arrived, and now she was leaving again, leaving for another year.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said. The meal was special—steak, sweet potatoes, and hot biscuits—but she didn’t feel hungry.

  “Viv will be back to visit again,” her father said.

  “Yes. Next year.”

  “I wish I could visit you more often, Terri darling.”

  “Why can’t you?” Her throat was full. Nobody answered.

  Later, she found it hard to fall asleep. She lay in bed for a long time, hearing her father and Aunt Vivian talking in the living room. She was drifting off when she heard the clatter of cups in the kitchen and came awake again. Her aunt’s visit had been different from other years. Not as good, not as wonderful. It wasn’t her aunt’s fault. It’s me, Terri thought again. I’m different. It made her sad, .and she got out of bed wanting to see her aunt again, to tell her that she loved her. That hadn’t changed.

  She opened her bedroom door and heard her aunt saying, “Philly, listen to me, dear, it can’t go on like this. You have got to tell her.”

  “No,” her father said.

  “She’s asking questions. And now you’re talking about involving two more lives—”

  “Viv, I can’t. Think what you’re saying.”

  “Think what you’re doing, Philly.”

  “I have. I thought about it a long time ago.”

  “That’s just the point—it was a long time ago. Terri’s growing up. You—”

  “All the more reason I can’t. It’s done.”

  “She has to know sometime.”