Invisible(8)

“What are you doing?” he asked her quietly from the doorway, as she threw an armful of short evening dresses into a suitcase, and dumped a load of high heels in with them. She added jeans, T-shirts, and bathing suits, and laughed when she looked at him.

“I’m going to Hollywood to be a movie star,” she said, as though it were a done deal and made perfect sense to her. “I met a producer the other night, and he said he can make me a big star. He’s going to get me a screen test when I get to L.A.”

    “So that’s it? You’re walking out on me and Antonia? For a screen test in L.A.? Who is this guy? How do you know he’s not some phony conning you?”

“He’s not,” she said firmly. Her friends at Studio 54 had heard of him. And even if it didn’t pan out with him, she was sure something else would when she got to L.A. She was dying, tied to Brandon in New York.

“Are you planning to come back?” he asked, and she didn’t answer him, and then slowly shook her head.

“I can’t be what you want. It will kill me. I need to be free again.”

“What about our daughter?” he said sadly. He was beyond mourning her leaving him, or begging her to stay. Being married to her had become a living hell, and had been for years. He had hidden from it in his work. But he couldn’t hide from it forever. And they hadn’t had sex for almost a year. The passion between them had died even before Antonia was born, when Fabienne had felt so ill. And after the birth, she avoided him when she could. She didn’t want to get pregnant again, and her attraction to him had disappeared.

“She’s your daughter, not mine. You wanted her. I never did. You’d be a good father if you ever stayed home. I’m not a mother. I never wanted to be. And I still don’t. She’ll be fine with you.” She showed no sign of regret or guilt. She was done with both of them. All she wanted now was to be free.

“So that’s it? You walk out on her, and on me, and now she’s mine?”

    “I’ll sign papers if you want me to. This is better for both of us. You’ll find someone else.” He wondered if she already had.

“You can’t just walk out on a child, and decide it was a mistake and you changed your mind. A child is forever.” He was trying to be reasonable. He didn’t want Fabienne anymore either, but Antonia needed a mother, and hadn’t had one so far.

“I never changed my mind. It was always a mistake for me,” Fabienne said without apology.

“You don’t have the right to be that selfish when you have a child.” He pleaded Antonia’s case for her. His words fell on deaf ears.

“If I stay, I’ll die,” Fabienne said dramatically. “I want to be an actress, not a wife. I always did. I told you that in the beginning.”

“And you used me to come to the States,” he said angrily. She was an American citizen by then. And he had provided her a very comfortable life for eight years, and indulged her every whim.

“You wanted me here,” she reminded him, “and it worked well in the beginning, until she was born. That changed everything for me.” Brandon was wondering what Antonia’s life would be like now. But the truth was that she had never had a mother. Fabienne had completely ignored her almost all her life. And he knew he hadn’t been much of a father either, in his efforts to avoid his wife in recent years. Poor Antonia seemed like a terrible mistake, to both of them. He didn’t have time for her, and he didn’t feel equipped to have a child on his own, and her mother didn’t want her. Even he realized how unfair it was to Antonia. His business was flourishing, and he knew he couldn’t be around enough for her. He’d just have to do what he could, have someone reliable to take care of her, and hope that would be enough. His own loss, if Fabienne left as she said she would, would be so much less than Antonia’s. Losing a mother was enormous, and never having had one in a real sense was even worse. Fabienne wasn’t capable of loving anyone but herself. He had been aware of it for years, but never thought she’d have the guts to walk away from her own child. She didn’t seem to care about leaving either of them, and was leaving Antonia to her father, like some cast-off object she no longer wanted.

    “I don’t know if I can be around enough to take care of her properly,” he said to Fabienne in a serious voice, still hoping she’d reconsider.

“She’s very self-sufficient,” Fabienne said coldly, “she’ll be fine.” He wanted it to be true, but he wasn’t as sure.

“She’s self-sufficient because she’s had to be.” He felt guilty thinking about it, but he couldn’t turn the clock back, and he had to be present constantly in his business to keep a handle on it. He couldn’t be around for Antonia too.

“I lost my mother when I was three and I survived,” she said matter-of-factly, devoid of compassion.

“You had a great-grandmother. She only has us.”

“She has you,” Fabienne corrected him, and closed her suitcase. She had packed mostly evening clothes, and jeans and T-shirts.

“How can you walk out on her?” he said with tears in his eyes, suddenly overcome by the reality of what she was doing.

“I have to, to save myself.” She made no move to comfort him or apologize. She wasn’t sorry. She was desperate to leave. Her friends at Studio 54 were her family now. She was taking her money from her bit parts and modeling jobs, which she had kept in a separate account. She didn’t want anything from him, and he didn’t offer. She was sure she would make money in L.A. All she wanted now was out, from a loveless marriage and the burden of responsibility for a child she didn’t want. She wanted freedom and a starring role in a movie. Her friends had said he was holding her back, and she had decided they were right.