Page 101 - Too Much and Never Enough - Mary L. Trump

Clearly, the Trumps didn’t want her there any more than she wanted to be there. Some of the presents they gave her were nice enough, but they always came from lesser stores than the gifts for Ivana and Robert’s wife, Blaine. Worse, many of them had clearly been regifted. A handbag she got from Ivana one year bore a luxury brand but contained a used Kleenex.
After dinner and the opening of presents, we split up—some of us went to the kitchen, some to the backyard, and the rest of us to the library, where I sat on the floor near the door with my legs crossed. From a distance I watched whatever Godzilla movie or football game Donald and Rob happened to have on. After a while, I noticed my mother wasn’t around. I didn’t worry at first, but when she didn’t return, I went to look for her. I checked the kitchen but found only my grandmother and aunts. I went out to the backyard, where my brother and David were throwing a football around. When I asked Fritz where she was, he said, “I have no idea,” clearly not interested. With time, I would know where to find her without needing to ask, but the first few times I felt panic.
Mom was in the dining room, sitting alone at the table. By then the sideboard had been cleared, and the only evidence of the meal was a few stray cloth napkins on the floor. I stood in the doorway, hoping she would notice me and that my presence would set her back into motion. I was afraid to say anything, not wanting to disturb her. While the clatter of dishes and talk about leftovers and ice cream cake filtered out from the kitchen, I approached the mahogany table in the fading afternoon light. The chandelier had been extinguished, but I wished it had been even darker so that I didn’t have to see my mother’s face, how stricken she looked.
Careful not to touch her, I sat in the chair next to her. There was no comfort I could give or take except in solidarity.
Eight months before the gift of underwear, Donald and Ivana were married at Marble Collegiate Church and held their reception at the 21 Club. Mom, Fritz, and I were relegated to the cousins’ table, and Dad wasn’t there. The lie the family told was that Dad had been asked to be Donald’s best man and his MC at the reception (a role Joey Bishop actually filled) but the family had decided he needed to stay in Florida in order to take care of Uncle Vic, Gam’s brother-in-law. The truth was, my grandfather simply didn’t want him at the wedding and he had been told not to come.