Cheesie seems to have really taken to Satis. Right after the wedding she was the first person he talked to.
Meanwhile, I took out my guitar for the first time since the last major wedding in our family and entertained guests with my rendition of my dad’s special wedding composition. I’d played it once before, at Noah’s wedding, and we know what happened there.
Midway through the song, I noticed Neil going through one of his patented freak-outs. My mother just kind of stared at him, but HIS mother had her back turned. Good thing Bassy was there, he took Neil into the bathroom and calmed him down. Poor Neil, I feel sorry for him sometimes.
When I finished the song everyone had gone to eat the feast Halima prepared -- except for one person.
“Savannah Rachel,” my mother began in a hushed, halting voice, tears streaming down her face. “My Savannah Rachel – I never believed this day would come.”
“What day?”
“The day you’d wed. At one point I thought you’d never marry.”
“What made you think that?”
“Seriously, Savannah, you weren’t exactly rushing to the altar.”
“Neither did you. It took forever for you and Dad to tie the knot.”
“Well that was because of him, not me. The moment you were born I wanted to marry him but I was willing to wait until he was ready to commit.”
“To be frank, I’m not sure I would have waited as long as you did.”
Mom managed a chuckle. “Okay, Savannah, you got me there.”
She decided to change the subject. “You know, Savannah, that’s an – interesting – choice of attire for a wedding.”
“We are not going to go through this right now, not on my wedding night and CERTAINLY not in front of my daughter.” When I said that, I’d just realized Satis was standing right beside me. And it felt damn good referring to her as “my daughter.”
““If I’m not mistaken, it’s MY wedding, and I have the prerogative to do as I please, and that includes my clothing.”
“Don’t you think you’ve taken this Egypt obsession a little too far, Savannah?” she asked me. “Most people go on foreign trips, they come back with memories of that trip and that’s pretty much it. Not you – nooooo. You wrote a book about it, your room at home is full of Egyptian decor, you chose Egyptian music for this wedding, you even adopted two Egyptian kids and hired an Egyptian nanny.”
“Mother, I can take grief about my own personal choices, but you can be damn sure that I am not going to allow you to disparage my daughter’s homeland in front of her!” I told Satis to join her brother at the reception but she wouldn’t leave my side.
I took a deep breath. “You have to understand, mother, that the moment my feet touched the ground there I became a completely different person. That trip changed my entire life, in so many ways. You know if it were up to me I’d actually still be living there.”
My mother, try as she may, is not going to change who I am. She didn’t succeed when I was growing up and she is not going to now. “That’s what inspired me to write “Interview with a Mummy.” I was so overcome by the mystery and intrigue of the land. I spent four days alone in an Egyptian pyramid. When you spend four days alone anywhere, you do a lot of thinking.”
“You know, Savannah, I re-read the book with a different frame of mind, and I actually did like it. There were just certain passages in it that, well, hit a little too close to home for me. I figured out right away that you were writing something like an autobiography. Like your description of Saundra Burroughs as a washed-up actress who struggled to understand her daughter. There were a couple of occasions where I wanted to kill Saundra for not seeing things that were so obvious. Savannah, I have to admit – I struggled with you too. There are times when I look at you and it’s like looking in a mirror, because you’re just like me. Savannah, you ARE me, except blond, and prettier, and stronger, and smarter, and that’s what scares me.”
“You wanted to be blond?”
“Growing up, more than anything. My mother was blond and she hated me because I wasn’t. I pretty much look exactly like my father. She spent the whole time making me feel very, very small, like I was less than anyone. So I was determined to prove to her that I could succeed despite not being blond. My mother would have LOVED you.”
“After you grew up, if you wanted to be blond so badly, why didn’t you just dye your hair?”
Mom shook her head. “I wanted to get as far away from my mother’s influence as I could. So I kept myself as a brunette. Then I met your father --”
After mom left to join the reception, I thought about just how truly sad the whole story sounded. Hating your kid just because they have the wrong hair color. It’s a pity that my mother seemed never to be truly happy, despite her success, until she finally convinced my father to marry her.
Just then Satis came to chat about the wedding. “I’m happy you got married, mommy.”
Just hearing that word “mommy” out of her mouth made me realize just how much about my life was different now. I glanced over at Satis, so fragile and malleable at her age, and even though she is not biologically my daughter, the moment I met her I felt an unshakable bond towards her and a desire to protect her from everyone and everything. I hope in my heart of hearts not to make the mistakes that 2 generations of Bellingham women have made with their children.
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