Ballrooms and Baby Clothes

Inez was hoping to avoid herself for the afternoon. She had only just decided on the baby’s name, and the inner deliberation was more tumultuous than she had anticipated. It was a Sunday, and there was still a soft sheet of snow over most of the town. Inez’s second big decision of the day was to treat herself to a tour of one of the mansions. Like most people who lived in a town that tourists love, she had always promised to do the things that sightseers do, and then never did. One of them was to see the cluster of mansions that were scattered along Bellevue Avenue. It had been a year and a half, and so far, she’d never even driven by them. The logical one to see would be the Breakers since it was the biggest and the Christmas tree would be coming down soon now that it was January. Her next Christmas would be spent with a baby.

She couldn’t think too much about that.

Derek had proposed as soon as she told him. He was a fallen Catholic, but heavy on the Catholic and light on the fall. He’d grown up in Newport, and his entire family could be gathered together within a few minutes from the east and northern sides of town. Inez’s entire family was in Los Angeles, which meant if she agreed to marry Derek, she would be absorbed into the Elliott tribe. She’d moved east with the intention of winding up in Boston, but a fellow traveling friend had gotten a job as a bartender at one of the restaurants in town, and they let Inez know that there was another spot open. It was only meant to be for one summer, but when the restaurant offered her the job as bar manager, she told herself that Boston wasn’t going anywhere. The truth was, Boston got further away by the hour, and she was the one who was stuck.

“Every promise you’ve made to yourself you’ve broken,” a voice echoed through the mansion foyer. Inez had just purchased a ticket and stepped into the grand hallway as though she were walking into a sanctuary. There were regal staircases carpeted in red. Everything was stone and statue. She could hear running water coming from a fountain to her left, and across the room, there was a breathtaking view of the ocean. Inez imagined that one of the thrills of visiting a place like this was constantly reminding yourself that people actually used to live there. She wondered if there were ghosts walking around taking tours of their former homes, and if that was true, could the ghosts see the older version of Inez that had traversed time to come and scold her.

“It was one thing to keep living here,” Older Inez said, clutching a small pamphlet about the fire that destroyed the mansion about a decade after it was built, “But dating was supposed to be off the table in case you needed to make a quick exit.”

Younger Inez, who quickly insisted on only thinking of herself as Inez, moved into the ballroom. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to acknowledge herself, but she had come late in the day, and there was a lot of house to see. Older Inez followed behind her; seemingly unperturbed by the slight, and secretly also taken in by the grandeur surrounding the two (or one) of them. Old Inez was holding a large bag, and she pulled a small outfit from it.

“This is for the baby,” she said, handing over a pink onesie.

“I’m having a girl?”

“You didn’t know that,” Older Inez said, “Oh right, it’s not as common to find out--what do I say? These days? We’re in your days, so--Yes. I guess so. And yes, you’re having a girl. Surprise.”

“I didn’t want to know.”

“Then you shouldn’t assume pink means girl,” said Older Inez, looking up at the ornate ceiling, “It’s your own limited ideas of gender that ruined the surprise for you.”

“About Derek,” said Inez, silently fuming because the name she’d worked so hard to choose was a boy’s name, “Are we still together?”

Older Inez ran her hand along the velvet rope that sectioned off the accessible part of the ballroom from some of the furniture that had prominent “Do Not Touch” signs placed all over them. She was debating how much more she should tell her younger self. She didn’t want to steer her life in a direction that could alter the course of time. Then again, nothing about Derek ever seemed important enough to alter anything; let alone a continuum.

“You split up in 2006,” she said, “But you should have left him in 2004. Until then, he’s okay. He’s even okay after you leave him. He’s just a big kid, but he’s great with Nora.”

“Who’s Nora?”

Older Inez stared at her for a second, then cleared her throat.

“Did you just--?”

“Technically,” Older Inez cut her off, “You came up with that name yourself seeing as how I’m the one that gave it to you. Good job, by the way. It’s a beautiful name.”

If I kill her, thought Inez, would that be considered a suicide?

“Before you ask,” Older Inez continued, “I am not going to tell you whether or not you’re a good mother. You have a daughter in her twenties who is alive, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

“Is she happy,” Inez asks, already somewhat thrown off by hearing that one day she’s going to have a daughter that old, even though she knows that’s how things are meant to work. Twenty years will go by, and she’ll be the age of the older woman in front of her.

“Happiness is different where I come from,” Older Inez replied, “We mainly just say things like ‘Well, we’re all going to die soon’ or ‘Life is short. Go ahead and spend a month in Tokyo even though you don’t have a job.’”

Inez wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard any of that. She also wanted to ask her older self what stocks she should invest in, but she knew that would violate some kind of agreement with the laws of science. Her older self didn’t appear often, but when she did, it was always from twenty-five years in the future. When she was five, a thirty-year-old Inez had shown up on the playground and told her that being afraid of swingsets was going to get her picked on by the other kids in her kindergarten. When she was ten, Older Inez showed up again to tell her that she was holding her pencil wrong, and if she didn’t start holding it correctly, her penmanship would always look sloppy. When she was going to pass on the job in Newport and stick to her Boston plan, Older Inez woke her up in the middle of the night and told her she was doing the right thing.

“Excellent choice, Somewhat-Young-Inez,” her older self said, hovering over the edge of the bed as though she was afraid to sit down because the comforter hadn’t been washed in months, which is exactly why, in fact, “I’m so glad you’re not going to Newport. Nothing for you there. Nothing at all. No man named Derek that you’ll meet at a bar one night, who will get you pregnant. Nothing but long winters by the ocean and summers filled with drunken bachelorette parties. Go to Boston, Slightly-Younger-By-A-Hair Inez. Go!”

That was when Inez decided to go to Newport. It wasn’t that listening to your older self was a bad idea. It was just that Inez never listened to anybody; least of all herself. That’s why when Derek walked up to her at Fastnet and asked if she wanted to play pool, she finished her beer and then said “Sure” instead of “Please get away from me.” She believed in destiny, and she believed that there was no avoiding it.

As she and herself walked through the rest of the mansion, she thought of all the things the people who lived there long ago must have thought would happen once they were gone. They might have believed that their families would go on and on forever. That their beautiful homes would be passed down from generation to generation. That furniture would be updated and statues would be cleaned by servants who always loved to serve, and never complained.

Inez began to walk through the bedrooms on the second floor feeling like a trespasser. Suddenly, she was light-headed. Was it permissible to lay down on one of the beds or would she be arrested? She felt a hand on her back. Older Inez wasn’t allowed to touch her, but the continuum could bend a little from time to time if it was necessary, and a pregnant woman fainting in a historic landmark was just such an occasion.

“Inez,” said Older Inez, “You’re okay. You belong here. As much as anybody belongs here.”

Inez nodded, and felt herself shore up a bit.

“Let’s go,” said Older Inez, “You can come back in a few years.”

She began walking Inez towards one of the long, winding staircases.

“Bring Nora here when she turns five,” she said, as they descended, “She loves this place."