Black Cake(56)

And this was something that Ma had passed down to Byron, that unquestioning loyalty to Bert Bennett. Benny had loved her father and admired him and she, too, had been loyal to him, until the day that he stopped being loyal to her. He was the one who had drawn the line in the sand.

Wasn’t he?

Ma was right about one thing. It was true that Benny’s relationships had been complicated. People had a tendency to relate to only one thing or another, not to people like her, not to in-betweeners, not to neither-nors. This had been true in politics, it had been true in religion, it had been true in culture, and it sure as hell was true when it came to the laws of attraction.

Benny had to watch herself, she was overmixing the batter. She was getting agitated. She was thinking of how she had been called a flake, called confused, called insincere. In trying to live with an open heart, Benny had set herself up to be perpetually mistrusted. Thank goodness times had changed since her difficult college days. But there was still a lot of misunderstanding to go around.

And when people didn’t understand something, they often felt threatened.

And when people felt threatened, they often turned to violence.





Benny Writes





The cake-baking photos were ready and tucked into a padded envelope. Benny pulled a stool over to the kitchen counter and picked up a pen.

Dear Ma, Benny began.

Benny’s first mistake was to write the note by hand. She’d always been a slow writer. Her second mistake was to think that she could explain herself in a handwritten note, not only because there was so much to say, but also because some things were too ugly to be written down. Still, she wanted to try, even though five years had gone by since her father’s death.

I know it’s been a long time since we’ve talked. I heard your messages. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated them and I think about you all the time. I’m really sorry about Dad’s funeral. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Actually, I was there that day, I just didn’t let you know it. I saw you in that peach-colored dress that Dad always loved and I am so glad you wore that instead of the conventional black. I could just imagine a couple of those ladies (you know who I mean) seeing the widow of the esteemed Bert Bennett wearing such a bright dress at her husband’s funeral! Daddy would have found that funny.

There’s a reason why I didn’t go up to you and Byron. I know this is a long time coming but I want to explain….

Benny wrote about Steve, about college, about the things she’d been trying to accomplish, about her disappointments. She was sorry, she said, that so much time had gone by but she would not apologize for being who she was, even if being who she was hadn’t brought her a whole lot of comfort of late. Benny finished the letter and sealed it but it would be a while before she could bring herself to slip it into a mailbox. By the time she did, it was already autumn 2018, and Benny sees now that her mother had run out of time.





B and B, I know your father could be strict with you children. He had such high expectations for you two. We both did. And I see, now, that this put a lot of pressure on you. But your father was my love and he gave me a beautiful boy and girl and he loved you two more than you will ever know. Maybe one day, you’ll have children of your own and then you’ll see.

Benedetta, I’m thinking of you right now. Surely, you must know that your father cared for you deeply. You were his baby girl. But you had grown up to become such a different kind of woman from what we had expected. This does not mean that we didn’t love you. And it does not mean that we didn’t believe in you. But, yes, we had our own views and we expected you to hear us out. We were worried about how you were going to make your way in the world.

I realize that times have changed. It used to be that a solid education could make a difference in this country, especially for people like us, with all the prejudices that could get in the way. No one seems to know anymore what it takes for a young person to make a career or to have a stable home life. You young people have so much more freedom now, even in terms of who to love. But it also seems as though you have less guidance, despite all those how-to lists on the Internet. It’s as if there are so many choices that it’s no longer possible to know which path is right for you. And the prejudices are still there. Less formal, in some cases, but still present.

In any case, we felt that a college degree couldn’t hurt, not to mention one from a prestigious university. When you dropped out of college and refused to go back, it just felt like the beginning of an unraveling of something that we had worked so hard to create for you, a kind of safety net that we thought you could carry with you for the rest of your life. And I hate to admit it, but we were a little offended, too, after everything that we had done for you.

I don’t think you realize, Benny, how lucky you were to do so well in school. How could you? Except for that one dip in your grades in high school, all you had to do was show up and you were at the top of your class. It became evident that you had some kind of a gift, Benny, and we felt like you were throwing it away.

About that Thanksgiving Day. I know, your father and I had always taught you that love and loyalty counted for more than anything else. But what happens when love and loyalty are in conflict with each other? I love you children more than anything, but my loyalty to your father was the bedrock of our family. I needed to be there for your dad, just as he had always been there for me. For us. Without him, none of us would have made it this far. Your dad needed a little time to get his head around what you were trying to tell us about your social life. But then you walked out and his pride got in the way. Yours, too, I suspect.