Weave of Arachnids

By Edwidge B. Roumer

The book Weave of Arachnids is a realistic fiction that depicts the dysfunction of a family. It speaks to the impact of adults' decisions and actions on the lives of their children. It portrays the devastating effects their choices have on their emotional and psychological state of mind. It addresses the vulnerability of human emotions in the presence of egoism, infidelity, and addiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887933177

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Weave of Arachnids

Edwidge B. Roumer

Copyright © 2023 Edwidge B. Roumer

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88793-320-7 (hc)

ISBN 979-8-88793-317-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Spider

Circumstances

The Secret

The Communion

Downgrading

Retrospective

The Desertion

The Search for Normalcy

Again and Again

Discomfort and Pain

Loss of Innocence

Forbidden

The Turning Point

Transitional Experience

About the Author

To all those out there who feel like the fly caught in the spider's web.

The Spider

From spinning to threading,

Its silky web spreading,

Devoid of weakness or laziness,

The spider applies itself, relentless.

Morning to night, unafraid,

Heir of the ancestral trade,

It patiently extends its net,

To catch the prey unaware of the threat.

—E. B. Roumer

Chapter 1

Circumstances

Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive?

—Walter Scott

When Edith was invited to spend part of the summer vacation with the Arneaux family, Celine felt a sudden relief at the idea of a few weeks without her daughter. Even though she tried hard to hide her joy behind an impassible face, she could not contain her joy nor fool the observant adolescent who was watching her every move. The vivacity of her eyes, the immediate interest in the visitors, the rapid consent, and the smile that relaxed her until then sullen look seemed obvious. Edith understood too well that her absence would thrill her mother. She could not even bring herself to resent her for wanting to send her away. Their relationship had gotten worse, and they were both uncomfortable with each other. They were barely speaking to one another. She needed a break also from this tense situation, this lingering anger, and the underlining disappointment that her presence seemed to generate. All she ever wanted was to be close to her mother, to feel that she belonged, to be loved like any other daughter. Unfortunately, that was not in the plans of Celine, who wanted to get rid of her constraints and to live her life to the fullest, and Edith's persistence in chasing after her wherever she went irritated her and created a deep gap between them.

Edith glanced at her best friend, Marguerite, who was too delighted about the idea of having her for a whole month to have noticed that her friend was a bit disturbed. They were all sitting in the cozy living room of Celine's garden house with its bright-colored cushioned chairs and its wicker furniture, talking about this and that, unaware of the fiction between mother and daughter. Marguerite came unannounced that Sunday morning with her brother-in-law Larry Lenox and her younger sister Claire to get Edith. As they chatted and laughed merrily, Edith quietly got up and went to pack a few things. In normal circumstances, she would have asked the girls to come keep her company while she packed, but her situation was far from being a normal one. Honestly, it was not because she was keeping secrets from her friend that she did not invite Marguerite to come help her pack, but rather because she was embarrassed to let anyone see what kind of accommodations were made for her. Shame was a feeling she was very familiar with throughout her childhood and that she could not shake off no matter what she did. It was evident that her stay at her mother's was never intended to be permanent—she understood it now. It was like making room for an unexpected guest who would leave soon.

With an air of resignation, Edith gathered a few clothes in the small suitcase that had brought her back to her mother's house some months ago. She looked at the narrow provisional bed that was set for her in the inner room when she came back for the third time to live with the mother who kept sending her away. She suddenly realized how temporary her arrangements were, with no real furniture of her own, very few personal items, not too many clothes either, resulting in having to borrow a few things from her mother's wardrobe from time to time. Celine did not seem to mind too much at first, but then things changed, and she hated seeing her daughter wear her blouses or her shoes. In a few minutes, her entire presence in this house could be erased, like she was never here. It was obvious that there was no room for her in her mother's life, but she had the stubbornness of her age, and she insisted that it was where she belonged.

As she slowly walked back to the joyful chat of the group, anxiety grabbed her by the throat and made her want to cry. She felt the lump of tears in her throat and swallowed hard to prevent her eyes from filling up. She asked herself if she would be allowed back or, worse yet, if her mother would still be there for her to come back to. When Marguerite jokingly said that Edith should move in with her family permanently as they loved her so much, Celine, who was playing the game of the loving mother, protested weakly, pretending to want her back in a few weeks, laughing a little too hard, knowing that she would be willing to pay someone to take her off her hands. Edith stood there, holding her bag, ready to go. Sadly, she was getting used to changing residence in a moment's notice, thrusted back and forth between her estranged parents. After swift goodbyes, Edith was on her way out of town and out of her mother's hair for a while. Closing the door behind her, she could feel in the pit of her stomach the pinch of rejection she was growing accustomed to.

Curled up in the back seat corner of the beige Peugeot that was transporting them south of the city to the suburban community at the foot of the mountains, Edith thought about her tormented and miserable nomadic existence between divorced parents too focused on themselves to provide a stable life for their five children. She could not help comparing them to the Arneauxes, who, despite having lost their father at an early age, remained a close-knit family, even though things were tight financially, and it was difficult for them to sustain their way of life. Yet the main focus was the welfare of the family, and everything they did was to stay together and love each other.

Life would have been so different if her parents were more loving and caring toward their own children. She had given up years ago on the longtime dream of a reconciliation between her father and mother so that they could again have a traditional family life. She could still remember them together when she was still quite young, thinking that they were like any other family with the sole goal of providing a loving environment for their family. She remembered sitting on her father's lap as he read them stories and sang songs before they went to bed. But appearances can be so deceiving, and things went astray quickly. Edith was six years old when her world fell apart for the first time. Her parents' incompatibilities were too great for their relationship to have survived. Their expectations, their views of the world, of marriage, of commitment, of raising kids were a world apart, and so were their outlooks on the future. They came from different backgrounds, different upbringings, different interests, and different education levels. Over time, they discovered that they had nothing in common, except the five children they brought into their messy world.

*****

Milo Bray was born in a small town called Cosal on the southern coast. He was a charismatic man whose smooth moves and eloquent speech made him extraordinarily successful with the other sex, not to say a heartbreaker. He and his younger brother Antoine were the only heirs of the justice of the peace, Robert Bray, who had himself inherited a tremendous amount of land in and around the town where he grew up, got married, and raised a family. His children were brought up with a lot of freedom to do as they pleased, thinking that the world belonged to them. Following in his father's footsteps, Milo became a lawyer, while Antoine, who was less traditional, preferred to get his hands dirty, to manage the properties, supervise the field workers and the crops, ride his motorcycle and his horses, and live a simpler, down-to-earth life. Robert and Milo were like the chip from the old block. Father and son shared the same views on the pleasures of life and were known in town for their weakness for feminine charms. They had no filters when it came to their sexual appetite. They did not discriminate on the basis of social class or marital status. Even though Robert was married, the two of them lived the promiscuous life of perfect bachelors whose sole focus was to have fun, and that included crossing the line by getting involved with married women as well.

Milo was thirty-two years old when he met Celine Hill, who was twelve years his junior. She was passing through Cosal on her way to visit with her paternal grandmother in the next town of Pepper Port, a few miles away. She was a stunning twenty-year-old beauty, tall and slim, with long wavy black hair. Her majestic silhouette and mundane demeanor incited Milo's admiration and curiosity. She was a true city girl, and she had captured his attention. She was to be his next conquest. He immediately made a move on her, offering to be her guide around town and inviting her to meet his parents.

Cosal was a small community of about five hundred inhabitants, with two main roads and three perpendicular streets. It had one Catholic church on the plaza at the center of town, one school from K to 12 managed by nuns, one dispensary ran by one doctor and two nurses, one public park, police station, and a courthouse. It was a charming colonial town in which life was frugal and simple. Most of the people living outside of town were small farmers and fishermen. There were no hospitals as the sick were treated by doctors who made home visits. There were no big stores, only mom-and-pop shops; no supermarkets, just a marketplace; no movie theaters—movies were set by the priests in open air; no restaurants; and no hotels. People coming to town were passersby or knew someone who could lodge them. It was a closed-circle community where everybody knew each other. In one afternoon, Celine visited the whole town and met the most important figureheads.

It did not take long for Milo to fall head over heels in love with such a beauty. He had finally met the woman he wanted to marry. He always thought he would have to settle for one of the town's bachelorettes, and he was in no rush to commit to anyone. He was enjoying being single too much. Celine also succumbed to the charms of this smooth-speaking debonaire, and though she was already seeing someone in the city, she promised to come back soon. After a few hours, she resumed her trip to her grandmother's town. A few days later, she was back, and this time she stayed a week as Robert's guest. Milo did not waste any time before proposing to her. He absolutely did not want to lose what he had just found. It was a dream come true, and they got engaged. Celine returned home to tie up loose ends and to announce her engagement.

Not long after, despite the twelve-year difference between them, they got married and started a life as spouses in the small town where Celine was still a stranger. From the start, her presence created jealousy from women who resented her looks, her sophistication, and simply because Milo chose to marry an outsider instead of a local girl. It was a time when women had just started wearing pants, in certain milieus, and Celine was one of them. She enjoyed parading in her flare-legged pants of the latest style, like women did in the cities. She had exquisite taste in clothing, in home decor, and in homemaking. Yet she was shy and inexperienced when it came to men. And that was a disadvantage when dealing with someone of Milo's caliber.

She soon discovered her new husband's tendency to infidelity. At first it was quite difficult to adapt to the mentality of rural life and, on top of that, deal with a husband who had commitment issues. Her only solace was that she made some long-lasting friends who procured her with a bit of emotional support for the roller-coaster existence she was experiencing. Not only was Milo cheating on her but he was also fiercely jealous of every man who looked at her, and he gave her a hard time for even talking to a man. At one point, he went as far as accusing her of adultery with one of the town priests. Talk about the proverbial pot calling the kettle black! Nevertheless, they lived there for seven years and had three children: Joanne, the oldest; Elliot, a year younger than Joanne; and Edith, three years younger than Elliot.

It was in the month of May, on the first day commemorating the Immaculate Conception, that the desperate mother unknowingly casted a spell on her two-year-old daughter pronounced dead from a seizure. The doctor and the nurse stood there, powerless, looking at Celine in distress, for no words could console a loss so senseless. She grabbed her baby in her arms, rocking her back and forth. When the initial shock subdued, anger emerged, and she blamed the heavens for such a painful trial.

I'm done with you, she shouted, looking at the statue of the Holy Virgin, the Madonna she prayed to so faithfully.

A voice from nowhere said calmly, Put some olive oil in her mouth.

Everyone heard it, but no one knew who said it. Still they did as they were told. Milo quickly got up from where he was kneeling next to the bed and ran to the pantry to fetch the bottle of olive oil and a spoon. Upon spooning a few drops of oil between her parted lips and clinching teeth, the toddler's body reanimated, and she wailed violently as she returned to life. The grateful mother acknowledged the miracle and grabbed a piece of light-blue satin intended to finish the shrine she had started the day before, and wrapped Edith in it, with the promise that, as long as her child was under her care, she would always be dedicated to the Divine Mother.

Resolute promises of Christian sincerity, act of faith that cloaked in blue, the dying child suddenly revived by the miraculous breath of divine origin. No malice was intended nor a clear understanding of the implications of this noble gesture that the choice was made to alter her personality, her personal preferences, change the course of her destiny, and leave indelible traces of invisible wounds upon her young soul. Henceforth, the child, whose life was seen as an action of grace, learned before the age of reason that she was indebted to heaven and should make amends to fulfill her obligations through self-sacrifice and penance. Such a great burden for her frail body and her young mind! She had become a wonder to be seen, a spectacle in the town. Everyone knew about the girl dressed in white and blue.

Edith was three years old when life became intolerable for Celine in Cosal, where, like in most small towns, everyone