Underneath It All Read Online Free PDF Page A

what my parents and Bina would think of me “dating” a gift-giving man who is still legally and spiritually married. I don’t think it’s an issue for anyone but George’s wife, who he doesn’t seem to think much of.
    “No more stalling, Jacquelyn. Open it. Just take a look. What could be the harm in that?”
    “You ever heard of Pandora’s Box, George?” I open the box and, snug in layers of white tissue, is a chocolate tote bag that puts my Banana Republic bag to shame. I momentarily lose my composure. “Oh, wow!”
    “You like?” George asks, looking very pleased with my reaction. He knows I don’t like it, I lust it. “The saleswoman told me it’s crocodile.”
    “Crocodile!” Oh, crap, it must have cost at least ... a lot. “George I can’t—”
    “It would be very rude for you to not accept it, Jacquelyn. What would your mother say about your manners if she found out you refused a heartfelt gift from a friend?”
    “I can think of a few things she’d say,” I say, not looking up, right before she hauled me off by the hair to a convent. I could always donate it. Or I could keep it; no one would ever have to know where it came from. I could store it away in my closet, way back in my closet if, on the odd chance, my parents would ever come visit me from Los Angeles. Unannounced visits are a big thing with Latinos.
    “Tell me the truth, do you love it?”
    I tuck the bag carefully back into the box, carefully, so as not to crease the tissue paper. If I’m going to hell, at least I’m going in a (crocodile) handbasket. “I don’t hate it.”

7
    Dr. N
    “ J acquelyn, how long have you been coming here?”
    “Um?” I made my first appointment with Dr. N the day after I signed the divorce papers that ended my brief marriage to Nate, my college everything. “A while.”
    “And?”
    “Uh, it’s been very interesting?” I’m a lot past tipsy now. I sip my tub of coffee in hopes of sobering up before I head back to work. “And enlightening, of course. I’ve got such a better perspective on myself and my family and, uh, stuff.”
    “Have you found your parents to be more supportive of your decisions in life because of our work together?”
    “Supportive?”
    If my family ever found out I was seeing a shrink they’d freak. In their view, one of the worst things a child can do is talk about family secrets and problems to a complete stranger who is not sitting on the other side of a darkened confessional screen. With all I’ve already put my family through, the last thing they need to hear is that my psychiatrist thinks they are codependent, antisocial, closed-minded traditionalists.
    “As an adult you have a right to make decisions based on your needs. There is nothing wrong with that, Jacquelyn. It’s part of growing up and having your own life.”
    “Of course! I completely agree.”
    It’s my fault Dr. N has this impression of my family. If only I had been more selective about what I shared with her. Then she’d be able to see the good and other stuff I’m sure is relatively normal about them. Not that I think they’re crazy or bad people, they’re just—
    “Jacquelyn?” My shrink, whom I’m paying $150 a minute to listen to me, sounds annoyed that I’ve drifted off.
    “Sorry.” I take a swig of coffee and try to concentrate on what she wants me to say. “I’ve made a lot of progress, uh, with my family. I think.”
    “Your communication with your parents and family is much more open?”
    “You bet. We communicate so much more openly now.” I guess I’ve told them to get over it and accept me for who I am. Just not so directly, disrespectfully and definitely not in so many words.
    “And how about your other issue?” Dr. N asks, arching a fuzzy eyebrow.
    “Ah ... my inability to, uh ...” I should know this by now. I should be able to recite it backward and forward.
    “Take responsibility for your own actions, assume control of your life and improve your chances