Over the years Andrew had tried to understand his mother and rationalize her behaviour. Sadly, though, he always came to the same conclusion: she was an empty-headed, shallow, selfish beauty who attracted a similar kind of man. He had invited his mother to the wedding-though he later wished he hadn't--out of a sense of duty and a conviction that everyone should have some feeling for a natural parent. He had also sent a letter about the wedding to the last known address of his father, but there had been no reply, and Andrew doubted if there ever would be. Every three years or so he and his father managed to exchange Christmas cards, and that was all. Andrew had been the only child of his briefly married parents, and the one other family member he would have liked Celia to meet had died two years earlier. She was a maiden aunt with whom Andrew had lived through most of his boyhood and who, though not well off, had somehow scraped together-without help from either of his parents-the money to sustain Andrew through college and medical school. It was only after her death, when the pathetic remnants of her estate, worth a few hundred dollars, lay exposed in a lawyer's office, that he realized how great the sacrifice had been. As it was, at the wedding Celia had taken Andrew's mother in stride. Assessing the situation without anything's having to be explained, Celia had been cordial, even warm, though not phonily effusive. Afterward, when Andrew expressed regret about his mother's bizarre behavior, Celia responded, "We married each other, darling, not our families.”
Then she added, "I'm your family now, and you’ll get more love from me than you've ever had in your life before.” Today on the beach Andrew was already realizing this was true. "What I'd like to do, if you agree," Celia said, continuing their conversation, "is go on working through most of my first pregnancy, then take off a year to be a full-time mother. After that I'll go back to work until the second pregnancy, and so on.”
"Sure, I agree," he told her.”And in between being loved and getting you pregnant, I plan to practice a little medicine.”
"You'll practice lots of medicine, and go on being a fine, caring doctor.”
"I hope so.”
Andrew sighed happily, and a few minutes later fell asleep. They spent the next few days learning things about each other which they had not had time for previously.
One morning over breakfast, which each day was delivered to their bungalow by a cheerful, motherly black woman named Remona, Celia said, "I love this place. The island, its people, and the quietness. I'm glad you chose it, Andrew, and I'll never forget it.”
"I'm glad too," he said. Andrew's first suggestion for their honeymoon had been Hawaii. But he had sensed a reluctance on Celia's part and switched to what was originally a second choice. Now Celia said, "I didn't tell you this, but going to Hawaii would have made me sad.”
When he asked her why, one more piece of geometry from the past slipped into place. On December 7, 1941, when Celia was ten years old and with her mother in Philadelphia, her father, a U.S. Navy non-commissioned officer-Chief Petty Officer Willis de Grey-was in Hawaii, aboard the battleship USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor. During the Japanese attack that day, the Arizona was sunk and 1, 102 sailors on the ship were lost. Most died below decks; their bodies were never recovered. One was Willis de Grey. "Oh yes, I remember him," Celia said, answering Andrew's question.”Of course, he was away a lot of the time, at sea. But when he was home on leave the house was always noisy, full of fun. When he was expected it was exciting. Even my little sister Janet felt it, though she doesn't remember him the way I do.”
Andrew asked, "What was he like?" Celia thought before answering.”Big, and with a booming voice, and he made people laugh, and he loved children. Also he was strong-not just physically, though he was that as well, but mentally. My mother isn't; you probably saw that. She relied on my father totally. Even when he wasn't there he'd tell her what to do in letters.”
"And now she relies on you?" "It seemed to work out that way. In fact, almost at once after my father died.”
Celia smiled.”Of course, I was horribly precocious. I probably still am.”
"A little," Andrew said, "But I've decided I can live with it.”
Later he said gently, "I can understand about the honeymoon, why you wouldn't choose Hawaii. But have you ever been thereto Pearl Harbor?" Celia shook her head.”My mother never wanted to go and though I'm not sure why-I'm not ready yet.”
She paused before continuing.”I'm told you can get close to where the Arizona sank, and look down and see the ship, though they were never able to raise it. You'll think this strange, Andrew, but one day I'd like to go to where my father died, though not alone. I'd like to take my children.”
There was a silence, then Andrew said, "No, I don't think it's strange at all. And I'll make you a promise. One day, when we have our children and they can understand, then I'll arrange it.”
On another day, in a leaky, weather beaten dinghy, while Andrew struggled inexpertly with the oars, they talked about Celia's work. "I always thought," he commented, "that drug company detail men were always, well, men.”
"Don't go too far from shore. I've a feeling this wreck is about to sink," Celia said.”Yes, you're right-mostly men, though there are a few women; some were military nurses. But I'm the first, and still the only, detail woman at Felding-Roth.”
"That's an achievement. How did you manage it?" "Deviously.”
In 1952, Celia reminisced, she graduated from Penn State College with a B.S. in chemistry. She had financed her way through
college in part with a scholarship and partly from working nights and weekends in a drugstore. "The drugstore time-passing out prescription drugs with one hand and hair rollers or deodorant with the other-taught me a lot that proved useful later. Oh yes, and sometimes I sold from under the counter too.”
She explained. Men, mostly young, would come into the store and loiter uneasily, trying to get the attention of the male druggist. Celia always recognized the signs. She would ask, "Can I help you?" to which the reply was usually, "When will he be free?" "If you want condoms," Celia would say sweetly, "we have a good selection.”
She would then bring various brands from under the counter, piling the boxes on top. The men, red-faced, would make their purchases and hurriedly leave. Occasionally someone brash would ask if Celia would help him try the product out. To which she had a stock answer.”All right. Whenever you say. I think I'm over my syphilis by now.”
While some may have realized it was a joke, clearly no one wanted to take a chance because in each instance she never saw the questioner again. Andrew laughed, gave up rowing, and let the boat drift. Armed with her-B.S. degree, Celia explained, she applied for a job with Felding-Roth Pharmaceuticals as a junior chemist. She was accepted and worked in the labs for two years. "I learned some things there-mostly that unless you're a dedicated scientist, lab work is dull and repetitious. Sales and marketing were what interested me. They still do.”
She added, "It's also where some big decisions are made.”
But making a change from lab work to selling proved difficult. Celia tried the conventional route of applying and was turned down.”I was told it was company policy that the only women employed in sales were secretaries.”
Refusing to accept the decision, she planned a campaign. "I found out that the person who would have to recommend a change in policy, if it happened at all, was Sam Hawthorne. You met him at our wedding.”
"Your boss, the regional sales maestro," Andrew said.”The one who's stamped approval on our having two kids.”