The Charlotte Diaries — Entry #2
Disclaimer: This is for shits and giggles. An excuse to write without thinking too much. We’re in Season 3 of a pandemic, sit back, relax, and enjoy. Don’t like it? Ok, bye. If there are grammar errors feel free to volunteer your services. I will not be paying you.
I lied to the girls today.
I told them this ridiculous story about a dinner party I threw with Lisa and her husband. I made it seem like our lives were as white as my Chanel tea towels and I desperately needed to correct that. The fact that they bought it, drank it up like their Thursday night martinis, reaffirms the fact that they don’t know me that well. They use to know me — the Charlotte who cried “where is he” over meals as I jumped from one bad relationship to the next, but they don’t know me — the Charlotte who is a Jewish mom of a transracial adoptee.
We picked the private school the girls attend because of the diversity. We didn’t want Lily growing up in a white bubble. All the books say that transracial adoptees need to be connected to their culture and a community that looks like them. I see the school board moms more than I see Carrie and Miranda. That’s a deliberate choice. They are still dear friends but… our lives are drastically different.
The dinner party was a success, as always. It was after the party that I fumbled. Lily… let me start from the beginning so I can fully process all of this.
Everyone came to our home. The table was set. The hors d’oeuvres were ready. The aroma of the most delectable roast I have ever made filled the air.
It was picture-perfect.
I told everyone to bring their kids. No need to leave the teenagers to their own devices as we have plenty of devices here! Good one Charlotte. I set up a space for the teens complete with all their favorite unhealthy foods and a few new video games. I could hear the laughter from the dining room. Everything was going perfectly.
After dinner when the families departed Lisa and her family were the last ones to leave. The moment of their departure plays in slow motion in my mind. I’m standing in the foyer, the Wexleys are on the other side of the open door, and in between all of us were the kids. Lisa’s son leaned in and kissed Lily’s cheek. There was an “oooh” from Rose. Lisa smiled. Harry chuckled. And I, Charlotte York-Goldenblatt screamed “No”. Looking back I should have seen the signs. The way they were sitting close to each other on the couch. The way he gently wiped pizza sauce off of Lily’s chin.
I missed those signs because I still see her as my little girl and not an emerging woman.
I know what the no meant. It meant don’t grow up. It meant don’t get caught up in boys and waste your youth trying to be perfect for them when the perfect man for you will be bald, hairy, Jewish, and take you in the most undignified manner in an apartment clad in far too much leather. It meant, while I molded you in my image don’t actually be me in this regard. No one else heard the things that no meant, unfortunately. All they heard was the no and what they saw was my beautiful daughter being kissed by a Black boy.
The look on Harry’s face will forever live in my mind. He looked so horrified and disappointed in me. I never want him to look at me like that ever again. And Lisa, oh Lisa. There was so much hurt in her eyes. I can only imagine what was going through her mind. If it were me? I would be wondering if I had misjudged this person I had grown to know and care about.
Rose’s “wow mom, really?” brought me back to the moment and I quickly started explaining myself. Somehow I feel like that made it all worse and then the grief crept in and I looked around the room and burst into tears. White lady tears! I was doing the very thing the anti-racism Tiktok Lily had sent me told me NOT to do! Then all the videos and articles she sent me started to make sense. She didn’t trust me to handle this well and I wasn’t handling it well at all.
I started babbling through sobs that I was sorry, that I didn’t want to mishandle this the way we all mishandled Samantha dating Chivon. No one knew what I was talking about; but Lisa came back into the house, grabbed my arm, and told me to breathe. “We aren’t going to make this about you. We’re going to make it about the kids, ok?” I nodded. I kept nodding. It seemed like the only thing I could do right at that moment. She turned to the kids and told them that she felt confident that the no was more about them being young and not about who her daughter was interested in. I nodded. Her son is an amazing young man and from what I’ve seen he’ll make a great husband and father one day. We’d be lucky to have him as a son-in-law… 20 years from now.
Lily rolled her eyes, she rolled her eyes! She said she isn’t Brady and I should trust her judgment. Both are true statements. The fact that Miranda lets Brady carry on in such a manner is frankly appalling. Lisa took charge of the situation. Our families are going out to dinner later this week so I can properly apologize for my behavior.
Lisa and I met for coffee this morning to have an open and honest conversation about why I reacted the way I did. It was refreshing to share my fears about the kids growing up faster than I can grasp with someone other than Harry. I need to do a better job of encouraging us both to seek out other parenting friends to share our triumphs and crushing failures with.
After coffee with Lisa, I tackled my to-do list and then met up with Carrie and Miranda for lunch. Carrie was going on about selling her home and possibly needing hip surgery, completely ignoring every time Miranda pulled a mini bottle from her bag. When Miranda did speak it was to lament about how unhappy she was, but when I suggested she give therapy and sobriety a try to help improve her life they both scoffed at me and commented “how would I know anything with my perfect little life”. So I gave them a story to show my life isn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. I try really hard but fall short often. It wasn’t the true story though, I didn’t think they would care. As I began telling about the dinner party I could hear their discontent. Another dinner party story, how Charlotte of me. So I made the whole dinner party a disastrous affair.
They devoured every lie.
“Oh Charlotte, you need to get woke.” They sound silly when they speak. I indulge them. I’m not sure why I continue to. I went for a walk through the park after lunch and Samantha called. She was getting ready for a thrilling night at a sex party with one of her paramours — that’s her word for them. She practices ethical non-monogamy. She says that’s what the issue was with her relationship with Smith. He wanted monogamy and she’s not built that way, but she does love having steady partners to rely on for more than fun.
I told her the truth.
We spent the hour she got ready talking about her relationship with Chivon while I absentmindedly walked. She gave me tips she learned from the mistakes she made. She shared that she reached out to his sister years later to apologize for her behavior. “I don’t blame her for not wanting me to date him, nor do I blame him for picking her side. I wasn’t as aware then as I am now and even now I still fall short. It’s a constant growth process. We’re never too old to learn and grow Charlotte.”
She’s right.
I didn’t expect this entry to be so long, there’s so much happening in our lives it’s all overwhelming some days. At least my Chanel is timeless.
-C
