Armand Six: Not My Fault

I was in the kitchen with Ephemera, helping her make Thanksgiving dinner. After our talk on the patio, I felt like the ice was broken, and everything was good between her and I. Her and Dad went on a date Tuesday night, so I had the house to myself, and I spent some of the time thinking up questions I wanted to ask Ephemera. Wednesday night I had another family dinner, which went much better than the first one, and I was getting used to receiving compliments and love from both Ephemera and Dad. So far, the week had been going great.

"I'm having a lot of fun, Ephemera."

"That's good. So am I. Hey, we've got plenty of time before all this food is ready. Did you think of any questions you wanted to ask me?"

"Wow, straight to the point. Sorry, I guess I was just expecting more of a lead in to the discussion."

"Haha, sorry about that. I feel like you've waited long enough though, right? All your childhood years and what not wondering about your mother? I am eager to help, sorry if it was abrupt. I can be like that sometimes, but I don't mean it to be harmful."

I smiled at Ephemera, and I liked how open she was with her feelings and what she was thinking. In addition, her humility was refreshing, she accepted and acknowledged her flaws, and it didn't seem like she was always trying to be right all the time, which I felt a lot from Mom.

"It's ok, I am not used to it, but I kind of like it. Mom always used to drag things out and then not tell me what the real problem was. Was she always like that? Like she always had to be right, but she wouldn't tell you what was actually going on?"

"Hmm, somewhat. Her and I weren't exactly friends when we were growing up, so I never really asked her to share much with me, but her always having to be right is something I remember from my younger days. As kids, she was a stickler for the rules, while I was more rebellious, and I would do things like stay up late even after I was told not to, so I often got in trouble with my parents. When I was a teenager, I snuck out of the house, and Katya would always tell our father that I was not home, so then when I came home, I would get yelled at for going out. I mean, granted, it was my fault, for disobeying our father, but as a teenager, I just thought everything was unfair and Katya was the source of my problem, so we didn't get along. I just felt like she was trying to make me look bad in the eyes of our father, like she was trying to be better than me by telling on me all the time."

"I remember Mom and I getting in a fight because I didn't want to cut my hair like the other boys, and she told me that she wanted me to because she wanted me to be able to see, but it was really because she was trying to impress her own friend. She always did stuff like that, and it made me feel like she didn't like the way I was, so she was always trying to change me."

"Oh yeah, trying to change people was Katya's method of operation. She wanted me to be more obedient, she wanted our mother to quit drinking, she wanted Sandra, our other sister, to quit wearing so much makeup. Katya really wanted the perfect family, but she went about it in a really annoying way. Even though she was younger than me, sometimes it felt like she was my parent with how much she carried on about following rules and doing things perfectly."

"Why do you think she did that so often?"

"I think she was afraid of what people would think of our family after our mom started drinking and our parents eventually divorced. She wanted to look good in the eyes of the neighbors, our classmates, everyone who came around us. She didn't want people to look down on us. She wanted our family to be as perfect as it could be because I think maybe Katya herself looked down on our family, so she thought everyone else did too. Her way of trying to get you to do things she thought were right was probably her trying to turn you into the perfect son. I think she was scared of looking bad to other people, so her trying to control you might have been out of fear for what others would think of you and how it would make her look."

"I wish Mom had seen that it was hurting me. I feel like my self-loathing comes from the fact that I never felt like I was good enough."

"I wish she had seen the good in you too, Armand. You are a good boy, and I'm proud of the man you've turned into. You're doing well in school, getting on the Dean's List? I mean, not a lot of people can say they've been on that. You're really down to earth even with having such a famous father, you've got a lot of good things going for you. Focus on that, okay? You can be proud of yourself too."

"Thank you, Ephemera. That's interesting that you think she might have been so controlling of me because of fear. It makes sense, but it just seems so contradictory since she was always so demanding, it was hard to believe that she was capable of being scared of anything. She always used to yell at me if I wanted something while she was reading. Did she do anything else other than read?"

"Sometimes, the people who are the most afraid, turn out to be the most tyrannical. It's like they feel if they can make others fear them, then others won't find out that they themselves are scared. Katya used to like surfing, she did it a lot as a teenager. She was always out surfing on the weekends. She would gush about it at dinner time, how the ocean made her feel like she was at home."

"I wonder why she quit. I don't remember her surfing at all."

I thought about it more, and then my face fell. Shit... she probably quit because of me. Babies don't give parents a lot of time to do things as dangerous as surfing. It really is my fault. No wonder she hated me. I felt the world around me start to get blurry as I got tunnel vision. My thoughts were once again consuming me. The sounds of us cooking became distant and all I could hear was the sound of my own sobs. I heard Ephemera say my name a few times, and then some shuffling around in the kitchen, then I felt someone rubbing my back soothingly. I looked to my left a little bit, and without picking my head up, I saw that Ephemera had pulled up a chair next to me, in an attempt to make me feel better.

"Shh, it's okay, Armand. Whatever it is, it's okay."

I felt shocked and surprised that Ephemera had stopped cooking to tend to me, and it caused me to break down even more. I thought she might want to know what was bothering me, so I managed to utter a few words about why I had suddenly just fallen apart.

"Mom quit surfing because of me. It's my fault she hated me. I took away her passion."

"No, Armand, no. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is, it is."

I couldn't deal with the new revelation I just found out, and I ended up crumpling to my knees on the kitchen floor. It all made sense now, Mom never liked me because I represented everything she had to give up. I cried until I couldn't anymore, but I still remained on the floor. I eventually sat down with myself against the counter, staring up at the ceiling. I only looked to the side when I felt Ephemera sit next to me again. In my despair, all I could think of was why the hell wasn't she yelling at me for being stupid and crying over something she had said wasn't my fault. At least if she had been mad at me I would know how to deal with it, I could just shut out her screaming and withdraw into myself. She wasn't though, she never yelled, she just sat there. I pictured if it was me and Mom in the kitchen, she probably would have blamed me for making dinner take longer to cook. I didn't know who I was kidding though, Mom never cooked.

"Ephemera? How is it not my fault? I was born, I was in the way, and she had to take care of me instead of doing what she wanted."

"It is not your fault because your mom had every chance to start surfing again once you were old enough to do things on your own."

"So it was her choice to stop surfing permanently?"

"It had to have been. Did you ever tell her that you forbid her from surfing?"

"No..."

"So how is it your fault? Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"Yeah, I think I do."

I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, just from the simple reasoning Ephemera had walked me through. Why had I never been able to use logic like that to talk myself through my self-loathing thoughts? I supposed it was because I didn't actually know how to do that, this was the first time I had ever been shown that kind of thought process. I still felt bad about making Ephemera waste her time with me when we could be cooking, but I tried to use her logic to make myself understand that it wasn't my fault. I never asked her to stop cooking, she did that of her own will. Why did she do that? She cares about me. Wow. She cares about me.

The realization that Ephemera would put me as first priority to a large family dinner, when she didn't have to, made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. She had no worries about potentially not having dinner ready in time, instead she was concerned about me and how I was feeling. She wasn't afraid of how other people would look at her if she didn't have dinner ready in time. I thought I would ask her anyway about dinner because I had managed to use the logic to help me halfway, but I needed that extra push to fully believe that it wasn't my fault.

"Ephemera? Is dinner going to be late because of me?"

"What? No. Don't be silly. I have the important dish already cooking, the turkey, which has been in the oven since 7am. Your grandparents are bringing dessert and we were just working on the side dishes which don't take that long to cook. Besides, there's no rigid dinner schedule. You're more important than potatoes, Armand. Seriously, you are. When you started crying, I was worried I had said something to offend you, and that's the last thing I wanted to do. Are you all right now?"

"I think I'm better, yes. Also, no you didn't offend me. You know that logic thing you did to talk me through the surfing thing? I'd never had anyone show me that kind of thought process before. It really helped. I think I'm ready to continue helping you cook."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Can I still ask you questions?"

"Of course, if you're comfortable with it, I'd love to continue to help you."

I stood up and resumed cutting the vegetables I'd been working on, trying to think of more questions that had been bugging me over the years.

"How much did you know about how Mom and Dad's marriage was going?"

"Your mom and I made up on your parents' wedding day, when I apologized to her for my stupid teenage behavior. I let a huge grudge I had against your mom cloud my judgment of her for much too long, and I let it go that day. I was living in her house alone because she had moved in with your dad during the time after he came home from the hospital, so I had been seeing her a lot less since then.

When I would come over to help your dad with work stuff, I noticed a little neglect on your mom's part, towards both you and your father. She seemed to always be reading, as you found out when you grew up a little more, she loved her books. When we were kids, she would spend hours in her room reading. I didn't think anything of her distance towards the both of you, but it clearly was a bigger problem, now that I'm getting to know you a lot better. Despite me noticing the neglect, I felt strongly that it wasn't my place to meddle, I've never been that kind of person, I believe people's love lives are their own, and what they choose to make of it is their own doing. Your mom and I grew apart again after she got married, but this time I was sad. I felt like I had gained my sister back, only to lose her again, this time not for anything either of us did, but because of distance, and life. Then when your dad told me that he was going to be quitting magic and working at an accounting firm, I was shocked and sad for him because I didn't think that he would ever give up on that job. I knew he loved magic with all his heart, so I was confused, but I accepted his decision.

Later on, when your father resumed his magic at the bar, after rehiring Emmanuel and I, he told us it was your mother who had made him quit. I think that's when I knew something might have been going wrong between the two of them, but again, I didn't feel like it was my business. My sister's marriage was hers. If she wanted advice, she could have come to me, but she must not have wanted or thought she needed help because she never called on me, even after I thought we had become friends. I was at the bar one night after one of your father's shows and your parents had a huge fight when your mother stormed in and tried to forcefully take your father out of the bar.

She grabbed his shirt and tried to tell him what to do in front of everyone at the bar, including his fans, and the paparazzi. I felt powerless. Patrick knew I was there because I had helped with his show, but I was not going to meddle in his personal life. The last thing I wanted was to embarrass Patrick even more. I knew that if I had tried to stand up for him, the paparazzi would have spun a tabloid tale of me and your father having an affair, so I just stayed away, even though I wanted to grab your mother by the arm and scold her for being so crass towards your father. It's one thing to have a marital argument at home but for your mother to bring her personal problems with your father into the public eye to manipulate him into doing what she wanted was just low."

"Wow, Ephemera, Thank you for being there for Dad. I could tell he was close to both you and Emmanuel, and I've always liked you."

"You have? Aww, that's so nice, Armand. I always thought you were a sweet boy."

"How come you didn't talk to me as much as Emmanuel did? Also, you came over less, I think Emmanuel came over more often."

"Well, I only came over for work things with your father. I didn't feel it was appropriate for me to see your father outside of work because he was married. I'm sure Emmanuel came over as a friend to your dad, and they did some non-work related things. That might have been why it seemed like he came over more? It's true, that I was friends with your father while he was still married, but hanging out with him one on one and not for work, was just something I wouldn't have felt comfortable doing. That's what a male friend is for. I had an unfortunate incident when I was in my 20s working for a magician named Vigilante, whom I thought I had fallen in love with, but he turned me down because he was using me to cheat on his wife. The way I felt when he told me the truth was disgust and anger. I was appalled that he would think of carrying on with me when he was already married, so I broke it off with him. Marriage is supposed to be a partnership between two people, and you're supposed to love each other, not run around with your assistants."

"That makes more sense. I thought that you liked me, but I wasn't sure because we weren't close, but I think it's honorable that you were trying to respect the fact that Dad was married."

"Thank you, Armand. Not everyone sees that unfortunately. I am over it for the most part, because it blew over after a few months, but the tabloids had great fun with the timing of my relationship with your dad. They kept asking us if I was the other woman, and some of the really rude ones had the gall to ask me if I had sabotaged my sister's car so I could date her husband."

"What the hell... that's awful."

"That's paparazzi. They will make up anything to get people to buy their magazines... that is, if you can even call those things magazines."

Ephemera and I shared a laugh despite the harsh things she told me the paparazzi had said about her. I was amazed at how strong she was because she didn't seem like she had any emotional residue from being accused of such terrible things. If someone had said that stuff about me, I was a hundred percent certain I would have crumpled into a ball and stayed in the fetal position forever, praying for death.

"How did you get over that? All those things they said about you?"

"I just held onto the truth, which was that I have always cared about your father, and I wanted to help him get out of his funk he was stuck in after your mother died. I was very surprised when your father asked me on a date. I had not expected that he would want to pursue a relationship with me so soon after your mother died. I knew that they were having marital problems, and it was clear your father was not happy with her towards the last few years of their marriage, but I didn't expect he would turn to me romantically."

"Holding on to the truth. I guess that would require me believing truths about myself, wouldn't it? You are really strong, Ephemera. Thank you for sharing some of that strength with me. I think I feel a lot better about myself now. I think I realize that all the bad things that happened were not my fault."

"You're damn right it wasn't your fault. You're a good boy, Armand."

I smiled at Ephemera, and she smiled back. I saw Dad come in the kitchen through the small hallway that connected the laundry room, but I don't think Ephemera knew he was there. Dad motioned for me to keep quiet, and so I continued pretending that he wasn't there. He hugged Ephemera and she jumped a little bit, but then once she realized it was Dad, she felt better and giggled. Dad gave her a kiss on the cheek, while she turned around and stared into his eyes. They looked so happy together, and very much in love, something I don't remember seeing Dad and Mom do very often, if at all.

"Ugh, guys, get a room."

I joked around with them because the last thing any child wants to see is their father about to make out with their girlfriend, but deep down in my heart, I was very happy for both Dad and Ephemera, as well as myself. It was looking like I would finally have a real family.