Gracie had a summer job that year too. It was her first one, at sixteen, and she’d be working at the desk of the swim and tennis club they belonged to. She was thrilled about it, and their parents sounded pleased. They thought Victoria’s job sounded unpleasant, and her mother told her to wash her hands a lot or she might catch a disease from the kids she tutored. She thanked her for the advice and was annoyed that the job she was doing didn’t impress them, nor did her work as a teacher, but Gracie working at the desk in a tennis club was cause for celebration and endless praise. It didn’t make her angry at Gracie, only at them.
Before she started work, Gracie was coming to visit Victoria in New York.
This time Gracie came alone without their parents, and they had even more fun than they had had in March. She kept herself busy in the daytime, going to galleries and museums and going shopping, and Victoria took her out to movies and restaurants at night. They even went to a Broadway play.
And as usual Victoria was planning to go home in August. It was the longest time she spent with them now every year. But this time she only intended to stay for two weeks, which was more than long enough for her. And once there, as usual, her father criticized her frequently about her job, and her mother nagged her constantly about her weight, which had gone up again after a brief dip in the spring. Before she left New York, Victoria had gone on a cabbage diet, which helped her lose weight. The diet was miserable, but it worked, and then a short time afterward she gained all the weight back again. It was a battle she just couldn’t seem to win. It was discouraging.
When she got back to New York, she was disheartened by the things her parents had said, and the weight she had put back on, and she thought about Harlan’s suggestion that she see a shrink. And in a dark mood one day right before school started, she called a name he had given her. It was a woman he had met, and he said that a friend of his had gone to her and liked her a lot. Before Victoria could change her mind, she called her and made an appointment for the following week. And she agonized about it as soon as she did. It seemed like a crazy thing to do, and she thought about canceling, but didn’t have the courage to do that either. She felt stuck. And she ate half a cheesecake alone in the kitchen the night before she went. What if the woman discovered that she was crazy, or that her parents were right about her and she was a total failure as a human being? What kept her from canceling the appointment was the hope that they were wrong.
When Victoria went to the appointment with the psychiatrist, she was literally shaking, and had felt sick to her stomach all day. She couldn’t remember why she had made the appointment and wished she hadn’t, and her mouth was so dry when she sat down that she felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Dr. Watson looked sensible and pleasant. She was in her early forties, and she was wearing a well-cut navy blue suit. She had a good haircut, wore makeup, and looked more stylish than Victoria had expected, and she had a warm smile that started in her eyes. She asked Victoria a few details about where she had grown up, where she had gone to school, and college, how many siblings she had, and if her parents were still married or divorced. They were all easy questions to answer, especially the one about Gracie. Victoria lit up like a light-bulb when she answered the question about having a sibling, and then described her and how beautiful she was. She told the doctor then about how different she herself looked from all of them and had thought she was adopted as a child, and her sister had thought so too.
“What made you think something like that?” the doctor asked casually, sitting across from Victoria as they sat in comfortable chairs. There was no couch in her office, only a box of Kleenex, which seemed ominous to Victoria and made her wonder if people cried often when they were there.
“I was always so different from them,” Victoria explained. “I don’t look like them in any way. They all have dark hair. I’m fair. My parents and sister have dark brown eyes. Mine are blue. I am a big person. All three of them are thin. Not only do I put on weight easily, I overeat when I’m upset. I’ve always had a problem with … with my weight. Even our noses aren’t the same, but I look like my great-grandmother.” And then she blurted out something she didn’t expect to say. “I’ve felt like an outsider with them all my life. My father named me after Queen Victoria because he said I looked like her. I always thought she was beautiful because she was a queen. And then I saw a photograph of her when I was six, and realized what my father meant. He meant I was fat and ugly just like her.”
“What did you do then, once you knew that?” the doctor asked quietly with a sympathetic expression.
“I cried. It almost broke my heart. I always believed he thought I was beautiful until then. And from then on I knew the truth. He used to laugh about it, and when my sister was born when I was seven, he said I had been their tester cake, to check the recipe, throw the tester cake away, and they got it right the second time. Gracie was always the perfect child, and she looks just like them. I didn’t. I was the tester cake they wanted to throw away. She was the prize.”
“How did that make you feel?” The cool quiet gaze stayed focused on Victoria’s face. Victoria didn’t even know that there were tears rolling down her cheeks.
“It felt terrible, about me, but I loved my baby sister so much I didn’t care. But I’ve always known what they thought of me. I’m never good enough, no matter what I do. And maybe they’re right. I mean, look at me, I’m fat. And every time I lose weight, I gain it right back again. My mother gets upset every time she looks at me and tells me I should be on a diet or going to the gym. My father hands me the mashed potatoes and then makes fun of me when I eat them.” What she was saying would have horrified anyone, but nothing showed on the psychiatrist’s face. She just listened sympathetically with an occasional murmuring sound.
“Why do you think they say those things to you? Do you think it’s about them or about you? Doesn’t it say more about them as people? Would you say things like that to your child?”
“Never. Maybe they just wanted me to be better than I am. The only thing they think is beautiful about me are my legs. My father says I have killer legs.”
“What about inside? What about the kind of person you are? You sound like a good person to me.”
“I think I am … I hope I am … I try very hard to do the right things. Except about eating. But I mean to other people. I’ve always taken good care of my sister.” Victoria sounded sad as she said it.
“I believe that, and that you do the right things,” Dr. Watson said, looking warm for the first time. “How about your parents? Do you think they do the right things, for you for instance?”
“Not really … sometimes … they paid for my education. And we’ve never been deprived. My father just says things that hurt me. He hates how I look, and he thinks my job isn’t good enough.”
“And what does your mother do then?”
“She’s always on his side. I think he was always more important to her than my sister and I were. He’s everything in my mother’s life. And my sister was an accident. I didn’t know what that meant till I was about fifteen. I heard them say it before she was born, and I thought she was going to arrive all banged up. And of course she didn’t. She was the most gorgeous baby I’ve ever seen. She’s been in commercials and ad campaigns a few times.”
The portrait of her family that Victoria painted was totally clear, not only to the psychiatrist, but to herself as she listened to what she said. It was the portrait of a textbook narcissist and his enabling wife, who had been unthinkably cruel to their oldest child, rejecting and ridiculing her all her life, for not being an appropriate accessory to them. And her younger sister had fit the bill for them perfectly. The only surprise was that Victoria had never hated her little sister, but loved her as much as she did. It was proof of her loving nature and generous heart. She took pleasure in how beautiful Grace was. And she had accepted the horrible things her parents had said about her as gospel. She had been shackled by their cruelty all her life. Victoria was embarrassed by some of the things she had said, but they were all true, and had the ring of truth to the psychiatrist as well. She didn’t doubt them for a minute.
And then she glanced at a clock just beyond Victoria’s shoulder and asked her if she would like to come back the following week. And before she could stop herself, Victoria nodded and then said that she would have to come in the afternoon after school since she was a teacher, which the psychiatrist said was fine. She gave her an appointment and handed her a card with the time written on it, and smiled.
“I think we did some good work today, Victoria. I hope you think so too.”
“We did?” She looked surprised. She had been entirely open and honest with her. And she felt suddenly disloyal to her parents for the things she had said. But she hadn’t lied. They had said all those things to her over the years. Maybe they hadn’t meant them to be as cruel as they sounded. And what if they did? What did that mean, about her and about them? It was a mystery to her now, which would have to wait another week to be solved, until she met with the shrink again. But she didn’t feel crazy when she left, as she had feared. She felt saner than she ever had, and painfully lucid about her parents.
Dr. Watson escorted her out, and when Victoria stepped out into the sunlight, she felt dazed for a minute and blinded by the light. The doctor closed the door softly behind her, and Victoria slowly walked away. She had a feeling that she had opened a door that afternoon and let the light into the dark corners of her heart. And whatever happened now, she knew she couldn’t close that door again. And thinking about it, she cried with relief as she walked all the way home.
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