Ask Again, Yes

Peter Stanhope, son of Anne and Brian Stanhope and husband of Kate Gleeson Stanhope, is both a product and victim of history. He grows up in a difficult home environment, with an erratic moody mother and a distant, unapproachable father. An only child, he makes few friends, save for Kate. He idealizes her, transforming her into an obsession, a fantasy. Learning the true value of Kate as a person, as a woman, and as a lover marks Peter’s own emergence as a character.

A gifted cross-country runner, Peter spends much of his life running from life. After moving away from Gillam and finishing college, he is certain that he has overcome his history, that the past is the past, and that now he and Kate can begin their life together with a clean slate. Peter studies history, and as a student he is enthralled by facts, events, and people in the past. He comes to learn that a person’s history, however, continues to affect their present.

Even as he and Kate settle into what would appear to be an idyllic existence, their world careens toward catastrophe because Peter carries within his genetic makeup the dark itch of alcoholism. Only after he accepts that complicated reality—and the help of trained professionals—can he accept Kate for who she is rather than what he wants her to be. In acceptance, he finds his way to authentic hope for a happy and stable life. Peter’s mother, who has learned that history will be repeated unless understood and confronted, reenters his life.

In a narrative defined by weak, wounded characters who routinely seek escape from a difficult and often painful reality, Kate Gleeson emerges as a character engaged by the real-time world, impatient with fantasy escapes, and ready to confront rather than avoid problems. Kate is headstrong, sure of herself, and more than ready to speak her mind. In pursuing her friendship with Peter against the wishes of their parents, she defies strictures and rules she sees as arbitrary. She understands her heart and, unlike other characters whose love is often confused with need, helplessness, and lust, love strengthens and emboldens Kate. Her love of Peter sustains her. She believes earnestly and sincerely that love is sufficient in this world to provide happiness, security, and joy.

Francis’s shooting sorely tests her emotional strength. She cannot understand why Peter’s mother would shoot her father. For all of her giving and loving nature, Kate has the heart of a scientist (she is a forensics investigator where she routinely must piece together evidence to explain often horrific crimes). She believes that problems come with solutions, that data can be gathered through careful observation, and that patient investigation will yield clarity and insight. Anne’s shooting of her father appears to test that certainty, and for years Kate falls back on the grossest of simplifications: Anne is simply crazy.

The gesture of reaching out to Anne is the narrative’s tipping point, a gesture that begins the long process of the families’ redemption. When Anne returns to Kate’s life, Kate discovers she has made a bogeyman of the Peter’s mother. Kate comes to see the complications of Anne’s emotional history, and at last the scientist in her acknowledges that data cannot resolve all problems, that human nature and human behavior are far more complicated. This evolution allows Kate to engage rather than abandon her marriage when Peter’s drinking threatens its stability. In the end, she can celebrate that the two of them, at midlife, have only begun their time together.