All You Need Is Love
This is post 17 of Section III. To begin at the beginning, go here. Section II begins here. Section III begins here.
Bennett returned after a full walk to find his wife in glacial mode over the dinner table. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Bennett consumed his humble quiche in silence.
“I wanted you to help her, not abuse her.”
“I’m sorry.” Never a good deed goes unpunished, he reflected, sighing. “Where are they, anyway?”
Gwen ignored the question. “Obviously, Lizzy needs to feel good about herself. These family problems are very hard on children, you know. We need to do everything we can to help her, to encourage her and build her confidence. We mustn’t ask too much of her.”
“Are you the same woman who made her nine-year-old son practice the clarinet two hours a day?”
Gwen looked down. “I love Robert,” she said in a low voice. “Just the way he is. I do. But I admit, I probably made some mistakes. He was the oldest, and I was at loose ends when the college wouldn’t let me work there after I married you, so maybe I wanted him to be someone extra badly. And they didn’t know as much about how children learn back then. . . .”
“Nonsense!” Bennett snorted contemptuously. “I wasn’t criticizing you, Gwen. Even if the clarinet did have something to do with—those tendencies—it was probably also the only thing that kept him from running off to Greenwich Village or somewhere and dying of AIDS. And that little girl needs something like that in her life, too. Something to teach her discipline, focus, responsibility.”
“Ed, we’re grandparents, not drill sergeants. She’s only four. All the experts agree that self-esteem is the most important thing you can give a child that age. She’ll find her way—”
“What if she doesn’t?” Bennett asked, keeping his opinion of the experts to himself.
Gwen looked at him blankly.
“Find her way.”
“Don’t be silly, Ed. All she needs right now is love.” And Gwen began to clear the table, humming “All You Need Is Love.”
Continue
Bennett returned after a full walk to find his wife in glacial mode over the dinner table. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Bennett consumed his humble quiche in silence.
“I wanted you to help her, not abuse her.”
“I’m sorry.” Never a good deed goes unpunished, he reflected, sighing. “Where are they, anyway?”
Gwen ignored the question. “Obviously, Lizzy needs to feel good about herself. These family problems are very hard on children, you know. We need to do everything we can to help her, to encourage her and build her confidence. We mustn’t ask too much of her.”
“Are you the same woman who made her nine-year-old son practice the clarinet two hours a day?”
Gwen looked down. “I love Robert,” she said in a low voice. “Just the way he is. I do. But I admit, I probably made some mistakes. He was the oldest, and I was at loose ends when the college wouldn’t let me work there after I married you, so maybe I wanted him to be someone extra badly. And they didn’t know as much about how children learn back then. . . .”
“Nonsense!” Bennett snorted contemptuously. “I wasn’t criticizing you, Gwen. Even if the clarinet did have something to do with—those tendencies—it was probably also the only thing that kept him from running off to Greenwich Village or somewhere and dying of AIDS. And that little girl needs something like that in her life, too. Something to teach her discipline, focus, responsibility.”
“Ed, we’re grandparents, not drill sergeants. She’s only four. All the experts agree that self-esteem is the most important thing you can give a child that age. She’ll find her way—”
“What if she doesn’t?” Bennett asked, keeping his opinion of the experts to himself.
Gwen looked at him blankly.
“Find her way.”
“Don’t be silly, Ed. All she needs right now is love.” And Gwen began to clear the table, humming “All You Need Is Love.”
Continue
posted by Hobbes at 5:47 AM
5 Comments:
I'm with curmudgeon. A pop on the head would do that child some good.
(Everyone's acting so sweet on Waking Ambrose today I needed to come over to spill some bile. Thanks for your indulgence.)
You've come to the right place.
Thought so.
I wonder how much of this novella is based on parts of your life...
Still enjoying reading as it unfolds.
GEL: Bennett is like my dad and my husband (call Dr. Freud). Gwen is like my mother and me, and like activists I have known in college and grad school and now the Unitarian Fellowship. Chloe is like the more pathetic aspects of my character. Lizzie is everything I try to avoid in child rearing. Gregory is like a couple of ex-boyfriends (only with a more extreme imagination). North Central GA University is like Veryred State University, and its administrator is like my old boss. Robert is like a lot of musician friends, especially two gay brothers I lived with for a brief time at the end of grad school. Jack and Stephen are pretty much complete fabrications, though I did briefly have a gay prof in Intensive Greek.
The dialogue about the dreams with Jeff is a nearly verbatim transcription of an exchange I had with a student at Veryred, only he was in a Composition class and did not have to rescue me later.
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