Free Illusions of Love by Cynthia Freeman Page B

his father was more upset about Harry Shorn breaking down the barriers of their closed society than the fact that he wanted the eighteenth hole changed.
    “Dad, I hope you’ll forgive me, but I think you’re confusing the issues. I don’t know how the government got involved with Harry Shorn, but the truth is the world can’t stand still. And I think that progress is good.”
    Julian exploded.
    “Progress you call it? Well, you can’t have a future unless you preserve the past.”
    Watching his father’s hand tremble with anger as he picked up his wineglass, Martin was afraid it was bad for Julian’s health to get so worked up. Martin’s point no longer seemed so important.
    “I suppose you’re right. Dad.”
     
    Ignoring his son, Julian said, “What do you think about it all, Bess? You haven’t said much.”
    His mother looked at Martin angrily, as though she had not heard his capitulation. She’d never heard him stand up to his father before and it troubled her. Maybe it was called growing up, but she didn’t much care for it. Turning to Julian, she said, “You can learn a great deal from listening, but you’re absolutely right, my dear. I believe the world is moving in the wrong direction.”
    That night was only the first of many such conversations. Although Martin tried not to argue, he found it impossible to remain silent when Bess or particularly Julian voiced their frequently reactionary opinions. As the summer drew to a close, Martin found himself unexpectedly eager to go back to school. Dominic’s scholarship had been expanded to cover living expenses and he and Martin were sharing a room in Martin’s college, Jonathan Edwards. This fact had triggered a particularly angry fight between Julian and Martin, who couldn’t understand why his father would rather he room with an anti-Semitic Brahman than a studious Catholic.
    Both parents and son stepped back a bit from their positions the week before Martin left and all three tried to enjoy their last days together. They were careful to avoid politics or the approaching war in Europe, though Hitler was one subject they were in agreement on.
    When Martin finally boarded the train East, he looked with love at his parents standing on the platform. He wished he could in some way protect them from a rapidly changing world.
    It was well into the following spring that he received a letter which made him decide maybe the older generation needed less protection than he’d suspected. One day in late May of his sophomore year, he returned to class to find an envelope with Sylvia’s San Francisco address on the back. He was surprised to see she’d left Aunt Blanche’s and began reading the letter as he walked up the stairs to his room.
     
    Dear Martin:
    Before I say anything I want to thank you for the profound pearls of wisdom that you gave me eight months ago. The echo of those words has come back to haunt me, I must say. I suppose because no one wants to admit that they have made a great error in judgement. Yet my impetuosity almost resulted in total disaster. I don’t quite know how I can tell you all the things that have happened in one letter, so please bear with me.
    I did believe in the beginning that I was madly in love with Maury. He was so terribly exciting, like forbidden fruit. I confess, the first night I went out with him I fantasized about becoming his wife. Maybe I’d been seeing too many movies, but I really did believe Maury looked like Robert Taylor.
    Well, we saw each other secretly for the first few months and both Maury and I agreed that we’d say nothing to our parents until we found we couldn’t live without each other. It wasn’t long before I began to feel that way. I was really in love. That was when I told Aunt Blanche that the family would either accept Maury or else. They knew if they persisted in rejecting him, it would only result in my wanting to marry him more. They were a lot smarter than I gave them credit for.
    Now