“I’m so sorry. Sometimes my mind goes to the worst-case scenarios. Is Ledger okay?”
“That’s quite alright,” Blanche says with a kind smile. “And yes, Ledger is fine.”
I allow myself a moment of relief before continuing.“You were just about to tell me why you asked me here today?”
Blanche shifts back into her more serious, business-like demeanor. “Yes. Yes, I was. I’ll start by saying that I owe you an apology.”
My eyes widen, and I sit back into my seat, shocked at her statement. “An apology? To me?”
“Yes. I must admit that, as a director, I've been involved in some mid-size productions, and I’ve become accustomed to having things done my way. Over the years, that desire for control has led me to…meddle, one could say, in my children’s lives. While his siblings have been away for school or work, Ledger has stayed close, partially to keep me company. In return, I’ve tried my best all these years not to pry into his personal life. That was his one request of me,” Blanche says, giving a wince as she takes another sip of her mimosa.
“You see, when I saw the two of you lock eyes that first day of rehearsal in the church, it…” She looks away with a wistful look in her eyes. “It reminded me of the spark between my late husband and me. And I just felt deeply that you being in my play was kismet, and you and Ledger were meant to be in this together. So I know I shouldn’t have intervened, but an old, romantic biddy like me can’t help it. And my Ledger has been lonely for so long and never really shown any interest in anyone, certainly not the way he looked at you when he first saw you. That’s why I wanted to meet with you today—to apologize and to say I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable. I can adjust the practice schedule so the two of you won’t be alone so much…”
“No!” I yell, surprising both myself and Blanche at the ferocity with which I decline her offer.
“No?” she says, the glimmer returning to her eyes.
I cough and sip my coffee, trying to decide how I’m going to play off my clear objection to having less alone time scheduled with her son. “I’m sorry for yelling. I just meant, no, you haven’t made me uncomfortable at all.”
“Hmm,” she says, eyeing me with a loaded look. “I’m glad to hear it, dear. I would quite like it if we were friends. I miss my daughter when she’s gone, and it’s hard not having anyone young around me to shop and gossip with.”
Phew, okay, so Blanche is not mad that I yelled at her, and she's not about to boot me from her play. Dodged a bullet there. “I’d love that.”
A few hours later, Blanche and I have to-go coffee in hand, and we’re completing a walking circuit through campus. We decided we didn’t want to sit and take up a table in the busy café, and after a huge brunch, a walk was just what we both needed. When she discusses her husband, she’s both nostalgic and practical.
“I loved Henry very much. From the moment we met, our relationship was…explosive, to say the least,” she says, glancing to see if I’ll give anything away regarding my relationship with Ledger. I simply smile, and she gives a little eye roll before continuing. “Well, he was quite a bit older than me.”
At her glance this time, I decide to throw her a bone. “That’s not so bad. Older men can be kinda…hot. Experienced,” I say with a giggle.
“Exactly! Well, in any case, the rest is history, as they say. We were married quickly, and I threw myself into helping him run his company while keeping the home. And then the children came along, which was such an adventure. Of course we had lots of help, but I was very hands-on, even back then when it wasn’t en vogue. Henry tried to be there as much as possible. He was an amazing husband, but as a father, I think his own experiences growing up clouded his view of what a healthy father-son relationship could look like,” Blanche says.
“Was your husband’s father very strict?” I ask, fascinated by a look into someoneelse’sdysfunctional family dynamic for a change.
“Oh, very much so. Tragically, even.” Blanche sighs. “And my Henry was really never able to connect with our children other than Margot. She was his princess from day one. Luckily, the boys felt the same, so they were never jealous that she andher father had such a different relationship than theirs. My Henry had such high expectations for his boys that I’m afraid Henry and Ledger never really stood a chance.”
We find ourselves at a bench under a large shade tree on a corner of the quad at the center of campus and decide to sit before continuing our walk back to our cars at the café.
“I realize I never even explained what I was talking about with all my Henrys, and it can be so confusing. I’m sorry, dear. My Henry was Henry Jr., named after his beast of a father, and of course he had to continue the tradition of naming his heir after himself, so my eldest son is Henry III.”
I blush deeply, remembering that while I haven’t yet met Henry, I have seen him in quite an intimate situation. If Henry worked his entire life to live up to his father’s expectations and run what sounds like a huge company, it makes sense that he enjoys wingback chairs, tobacco pipes, leather-bound books, and women on their knees before him. I try to take a sip of my cold coffee to cover my snort of laughter, but instead, I end up spraying it all over my lap.
“Are you alright, dear?” Blanche says with concern, pulling an honest-to-godembroidered handkerchiefout of her purse to help me clean up my spill.
“I’m fine,” I choke. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”
“If you’re sure,” Blanche says, still looking at me like she’s ready to perform CPR if necessary. After a minute of coughing, I finally quiet down and give her a thumbs-up. “Well, as I was saying, my husband had incredibly high expectations for our little Henry, and he tried his best to meet them. I’m afraid his adolescence was not as enjoyable or carefree as it should have been, with numerous lessons andobligations. I think he tried on his own to meet his father’s expectations, but I think he also tried to deflect some of the pressure off Ledger.”
I furrow my brow at that. “Did Ledger not meet expectations?”
Blanche sighs, and when she speaks, it’s much softer. “He tried. He tried for so many years. When the boys were younger, they were inseparable, with Ledger trying to do and learn everything that Henry did. When Ledger started school, it became clear that despite his extreme intelligence, he wasn’t going to be the excellent student that Henry was. And while Henry seemed to have quite a bit of patience for his father’s business partners and their stuffy attempts to teach him boardroom politics, Ledger did not. Eventually, my husband seemed to give up on raising Ledger to have a role in the company, and left him to his own devices much more often.”
“That’s horrible,” I say. “To exclude one child and make them feel less important.”
Blanche’s face shows her regret. “I know. It’s the one thing I will never forgive him for—how he treated Ledger. I tried to help him in my own ways, ensuring that Ledger had his own outlets. He may not have had Henry’s gift for studying, but he’s an extremely talented musician.”
“Really?” I exclaim. “He’s never told me that!”
“Really!” Blanche chuckles. “He can play almost any instrument, but he loves the piano. And he may not have had Henry’s knack for winning boardroom war games, but both of my boys are quite sporty. He played rugby all through high school and college.”
