I heard him cry, "Ouch," as a result of another laugh.
Aunt Zipporah looked up instantly when I entered the lobby.
"It was okay," I said. "He's going to be all right."
"That's great, Alice. I know you have every reason to look toward the dark side of things, but is it all right for me to say that maybe everything will be fine, after all?" she asked.
"No," I said.
She turned at the door.
"No? Why not?"
"Because there's one more thing first that I have to do before I can stop looking at the dark side, if you'll do it with me."
"And what is that?" she asked.
"Take me to the clinic to see my mother," I said. She started to shake her head.
"Your grandparents, especially your
grandmother, would--"
"It's time we both did, Zipporah, and you know it. In your heart, you know it."
She pressed her lips together. I kept my eyes fixed on her.
"You can't keep pretending you didn't do what you did, Zipporah. My grandparents have to forgive you, too. You have to make peace with the past."
"You do have that third eye," she said and thought for a moment.
"I'm not sure whether it's a curse or a blessing," I replied.
"It's a blessing, Alice. Okay," she said. "You're probably right. It's time for me to go to see her, too."
My heart was pounding at her agreement.
Grandpa used to always say, "Be careful what you wish for; because you might get it."
I was sure he would be saying it now.
And even if he wouldn't, I would.
20 Meeting My Mother
. Days passed without my aunt Zipporah mentioning my mother again. I began to think she had agreed to go see her just to keep me quiet, to satisfy me, and that when asked again, she would come up with some excuse as to why we shouldn't go. I was about to ask when she announced to Tyler that she and I were taking the following day off.
"Where you going, shopping?" he asked her. She looked at me and winked.
"No, we're going to visit someone."
I was surprised she hadn't discussed it with him
beforehand, but this was truly going to be our secret, our own special experience. Whether or not we would ever tell anyone, especially my grandparents, was something we would decide later. So many years had passed that neither of us could predict how this would turn out. We didn't know if it would be a blessing or a terrible blunder.
For Aunt Zipporah, it was truly the opening of old wounds. For me, it was risking some terrible disappointment that would or could reinforce all the terrible things I had thought about myself. Both of us could turn in a deep depression and do great damage to not only ourselves but also the people we loved.
I couldn't imagine being more nervous about anything than I was about visiting and finally meeting my own mother. in the morning I changed three times, unable to decide what I should wear. Did I want to look as pretty as I could, as old as I could? Should I wear a lot of makeup, no makeup? Should I look at the pictures of my mother Aunt Zipporah had and try to highlight the resemblances?