Maine: A Novel Part 18

She told herself not to respond, then immediately did so anyway: Really looking forward to it! Heading up to Maine today to help my mother-in-law for the next couple of weeks.

Though she had a lot to do before she left, Ann Marie sat in front of the computer for a long while to see if he might volley a short response her way. She cursed herself for not asking him a question. She had made it seem like there was no need to write back and so he didnat.

Now shead just have to be patient, and focus on entertaining Alice, tidying up the cottage, and building her dollhouse. That was all the next two weeks required.

On the drive to Maine, she listened to the oldies station with the windows rolled down. Occasionally, she stretched her left hand out the window, feeling the air fly through her fingers. It was hard for her to let goa"to leave her mother and husband and grandkids behind. But Alice was the one who needed her most right now. Alice didnat have anyone else.

The thought of ending up like Alice or like her own mother, or most old women, terrified Ann Marie. They lived for years after their husbands died. Decades in some cases. She could not imagine living on after Pat. She had never been good at being alone.

So many years spent in the company of children made silence seem unnatural, and when she was driving, Ann Marie always imagined what they might say were they there. (Little Daniel: aChange the station!a Fiona: aTurn around! I think I saw a kitten back there!a Inevitably, it would be a squirrel.) As she drove along 95, the seat belt digging into her stomach, Ann Marie told herself not to look down. This was one of her rules for self-preservation. She still looked okay in a tennis dress. But the sight of her belly in a seated position, highlighted by a taut piece of fabric, could only cause her pain.

She had last seen her trainer on Sat.u.r.day evening. When Raul got her on those filthy Nautilus machines three times a week, shead sweat and huff and puff, and swear that her body was transforming. But then shead catch a glimpse of her belly and wonder if the workouts even mattered.

Ann Marie straightened up in her seat.

Until three years ago, she had been lucky with her figure. It always bounced back after a pregnancy, and she hadnat inherited her motheras tendency to pack on the pounds as she aged. But then came menopause. She and her sister Tricia were two years apart, but they started at the same time. It was nice to have someone to compare notes with, though Ann Marie thought Tricia treated the whole experience in a rather unseemly way. She went on an online message board full of menopausal women and chatted about symptoms and hormones and home remedies all day. She bought the two of them tickets to something called Menopause the Musical. Ann Marie had gone along to be a good sport. The show was funny enough, but she felt as though she ought to be wearing a sign around her neck that said IaM DRIED UP!

Then again, her body had done a good enough job of announcing that to the world already. A few times a week that year, Ann Marie had hot flashes. She might be standing at the register in the drugstore, or kneeling in a church pew beside her husband, and all of a sudden her upper body would feel flushed with intense heat and her face would start to sweat. It was mortifying. Her hair thinned slightly. She found clumps of it in the car and on the bathroom floor. Her body was betraying her in a million ways, none more awful than the fact that her belly swelled up and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s seemed to shrivel.

For Motheras Day that year, Pat gave her the sessions with Raul, and for a moment she had wanted to cry or stamp her feeta"what kind of gift was this? A reminder of how horrid she looked was supposed to make her smile? But then she did smile. Because she knew Patas intentions were good. And those sessions with Raul, which Pat had renewed every Motheras Day since, were a G.o.dsend, really. Who could say how lousy shead look without them?

The hardest part of menopause for Ann Marie was knowing that shead never have another child. She attempted to explain this to Tricia, but her sister just laughed and said, aI didnat realize you were trying.a She knew it was irrational. She was a grandmother, for goodnessa sake. But it seemed so final.

Every day since Little Daniel had been born, the first thing she thought of when she woke up was her children, and they were still the last thing she thought about before she fell asleep at night. Parenthood by its very nature was the only job she knew of in which being successful meant rendering yourself useless. Who was she, if not the mother of Daniel, Patty, and Fiona Kelleher? That was something she thought about a lot lately.

She drove the speed limit, taking note of the staties parked on the shoulder, just chomping at the bit to catch some sucker with out-of-state plates going eighty. Her cousins were always willing to help get her out of parking tickets, but Ann Marie thought speeding was a different issue. She didnat want to set a bad example for the kids.

While she sat in traffic at the New Hampshire tolls, she called Little Daniel at home.

aHow you doing, honey?a she said cheerfully.

aOkay,a he said.

aApplied for any jobs this week?a aNope.a aWell, itas only Tuesday, right?a aYup.a aHowas Regina, good?a aSheas good. We went to Nantasket Beach on Sunday. We rode the carousel.a aThat sounds like fun.a aYeah. Regina had never been before. And we went to Castlemanas for lobster afterward.a That sounds expensive, she thought. But she only said, aGood for you. Did you go to Ma.s.s at St. Maryas while you were there?a He chuckled. aMom.a aItas a beautiful church, thatas all. I donat think youave ever been. Which means you would have gotten three wishes.a She had no idea who had decided that a person got to make three wishes whenever he entered a new church. Probably some desperate mother whose child was throwing a fit in a church parking lot. It had always worked well on Ann Marieas children.

aIam on my way to Maine now,a she said. aGoing to head to the Cliff House at some point this week to do the food tasting so I can report back to Regina on what I like best. Iall just try to narrow it down for her to save her some time.a aCool. Tell Grandma I say hi, and weare excited to see her in July.a aWill do. When are you coming?a aNot sure yet.a She pulled the Mercedes through the tollbooth and sped up. It wasnat safe to be on the phone when you were accelerating. She hoped none of her kids would ever do it.

aIave got to go, honey,a she said. aBut one last thing. Maybe you should invite Daddy to have dinner with you some night this week. Iam sure head like that. Heall be lonely.a aI would, but Iam totally strapped for cash.a She thought about his lobster dinner the night before.

aYou could go to our house. I made your favorite.a aZiti bake?a aYes. And thereas strawberry shortcake in the fridge, left over from Sunday. And plenty of wine. You could bring a bottle or two home if you want. Bring Regina too. I left those bridal magazines I told her about on my desk in the office.a aOkay, Iall stop by.a She hung up. The guy in the car beside her looked a bit like Steve Brewera"that sharp chin and brown s.h.a.ggy hair.

For the next forty minutes, she ran over their e-mail exchange in her head.

Youare a wonder, he had written. This calls for a celebratory drink.

She wished it could be just the two of them, and then she could tell him how she was feeling. She imagined him nodding along, telling her he understood completely, telling her she had done a great joba"with the kids, her figure, the housekeeping, the dollhouse, everything.

As she crossed the Piscataqua River Bridge, which connected New Hampshire and Maine, she thought of Patas favorite road trip game: whoever spotted the bridge first would get a quarter. When her kids were small, youad think that quarter was a hundred-dollar bill, the way they hooted and hollered and fought and accused one another of cheating. (Thereas no way you saw the bridge yeta"weare still in Boston!) When Pat tried the game on the grandchildren the previous summer, Foster said, aWhat do we win if we see it?a aA quarter!a Pat had said excitedly.

Ann Marie glanced into the rearview mirror, to see her six-year-old grandson reaching down to the floor. aBut I just found two quarters right here under the mat,a he said. Then he and Maisy started playing their handheld video games and didnat say a word until they reached Cape Nedd.i.c.k. Ann Marie knew she should be thankful for the peace and quiet, but she almost wanted to grab their faces and tilt them upward, holding them in place. Were kids these days too busy to look out a car window and daydream?

She turned off the highway and onto Route 1, where you still saw gas stations and the big Shop an Save and traffic lights every quarter of a mile. But after five minutes, she was in Ogunquit, where the streets were lined with gift shops and cafs. She followed the road to Cape Nedd.i.c.k, and within a couple of minutes she pa.s.sed all the familiar houses and the big dilapidated barn at the end of Whipple Road. She looked out over the water, at the sailboats glistening white in the sun, under a cloudless blue sky. She had never loved a place as much.

When she arrived at Briarwood Road, she pressed harder on the gas. It was nearly ten. Alice would just be arriving at church. That gave Ann Marie a couple of hours to get settled in at the cottage and make them some lunch, and maybe shead have a bit of extra time to get to work on her dollhouse curtains.

Her car zipped down the sandy street, pine trees blocking out the daylight. And then she had arrived, the sight of the cottage like seeing an old friend. Beside it stood the big house, and down below was their beach, empty, ready for her. She felt a giddy rush as she got out of the Mercedes.

Ann Marie opened the trunk and gathered her dollhouse gear first. She held the sewing machine in one hand, and hooked the heavy beach bag full of fabric over her free arm. Then she sort of scooped up her ribbons and paint and nudged them to the top of the pile. She was going only twenty feet, so she might as well take as much as she possibly could.

She pushed the cottage door open with her hip. It was never locked. She crossed the screen porch and then stepped into the front hall, inhaling the familiar scent of ocean mixed with the old, musty smell of the house itself.

She moved toward the living room, thinking that it was actually nice to be alone, and thatas when she saw her niece sitting at the dining table in her underpants and a Kenyon Lacrosse T-shirt, typing away at her laptop. She looked chunkier than usual.

aMaggie.a Ann Marie said it softly, so as not to startle her, but the girl gasped and clutched her stomach anyway.

aOh my G.o.d, you scared me!a Maggie said. She climbed to her feet, smiling sheepishly. She reached for a pair of shorts that lay on the floor and pulled them on.

aI wasnat expecting anyone. Can I help you with that stuff?a Maggie asked. She looked it over. aWhat is that stuff?a Ann Marie dropped everything in her arms onto the table, which was already strewn with papers and books.

aWhat are you doing here, dear? I thought you were going back to New York on the fourteenth.a aI decided to stay a while longer,a Maggie said. aDidnat Grandma tell you?a aNo. No, she didnat.a aAre you just dropping this off?a Maggie said, gesturing at her dollhouse supplies.

Ann Marie took in a deep breath. It wasnat Maggie she was angry with; it would be wrong to take it out on her.

aI had arranged with Alice to be here for the rest of the month, since you and your mother couldnat stay,a Ann Marie said.

aBut I told her three weeks ago I was staying through the end of June,a Maggie said. aNot that we canat both stay. That might be fun.a She was a polite girl, shockingly so given her upbringing, but Ann Marie could tell that Maggie found the prospect every bit as unappealing as she herself did.

aThatas true,a Ann Marie said.

aIall help you bring your luggage in from the car,a Maggie said.

They made small talk as they carried in her suitcases and bags of groceries and cleaning products.

aHow are Pattyas kids?a Maggie asked. aThey must be getting big.a aTheyare adorable,a Ann Marie said. aFoster has Big Danielas ears! Iall show you pictures.a aIad love that,a Maggie said.

aOh, and the babyas doing swimming lessons! He goes to his cla.s.ses twice a week.a aWhat? How old is he?a aOne!a Ann Marie said.

aWow.a aThatas nothing. Maisyas four, and sheas already in her third year of T-ball cla.s.s. She knows all the moves. Sheas ready to start on a team next fall.a Maggie raised an eyebrow. aIs that typical, T-ball for two-year-olds?a aThey donat let them stay babies for long anymore,a Ann Marie said.

aHow much does stuff like that cost?a Maggie askeda"a terribly odd question if you asked Ann Marie.

aIam not quite sure,a she said. aNot too much. Josh even takes her to these toddler batting cages they have now. All the dads go.a Maggie looked stricken. Should she not have mentioned fathers?

Ann Marie always felt a bit sad for the girl. She probably should have done more for her niece over the years. She had tried, when she could, to make Maggie feel special, loved. But she had her own three children to think about first, and any time she gave Maggie a nice gift just because, or offered to take her away with them to Disney World, Kathleen would fly into such an unholy huff that Ann Marie regretted ever getting involved.

aHowas your mom?a she asked now.

aOh, sheas good.a aLife on the farm keeping her busy?a aYup. Hey, did you see that article in The Times a couple weeks ago about Peace Corps volunteers?a Ann Marie felt her entire body contract. aNo.a aIt was great, all about famous alums. Sort of a aWhere are they nowa kind of thing. It made me think of Fiona.a aOh, thatas nice,a Ann Marie said.

aI thought I might send it to her.a aThat would be sweet. I know shead love to read it.a aSheas been gone so long.a aYes.a aDoes she have any idea what she wants to do next?a Maggie asked.

Ann Marie tried to sound casual. aThe mother is always the last to know.a It felt like more than she had meant to say, but Maggie just smiled.

After they had brought in all the bags, Maggie worked on her laptop at the dining table while Ann Marie read her dollhouse magazines out on the porch. She tried to relax and take in the view. But she was eager for Alice to get back and explain things. They spoke almost every day. How had her mother-in-law managed not to mention Maggieas presence? Ann Marie was struck with a fearful thought: Maybe Aliceas memory was worse than they had realized. Maybe she had somehow forgotten about the overlap.

But when Alice walked into the cottage an hour or so later, that possibility vanished. She stepped out onto the porch, sliding the door closed behind her.

aOh, good, you made it!a she said. aHow was the drive?a aFine. I was sort of startled to find Maggie here.a aOh?a aYes, and I think she felt the same way. I wish youad have told me she was staying.a aWhy?a Alice asked. aWould you not have come? In my day, people actually enjoyed going to the beach with their family. It wasnat a ch.o.r.e.a aThatas not what I meant,a Ann Marie said.

aCome out front and see my garden,a Alice said. aIt looks like a million bucks.a That night, the three of them ate dinner at Barnacle Billyas. While they waited in line to place their order at the counter, Ann Marie looked into the cloudy lobster tank, feeling somewhat sorry for the poor creatures. Their situation here was unpleasant at best, and when they finally got out theyad become someoneas dinner. She had submerged live lobsters in a huge pot of boiling water dozens of times in her life, throwing on the cover and squeamishly listening to them clank around for a bit until they gave up the fight. Occasionally she had even allowed Little Daniel to stick a fork and knife upright into their claws, which were held closed with thick rubber bands. He would send them wobbling into the living room, where the girls would scream with delight. aTheyare having you for dinner tonight,a Little Daniel would tell his sisters, and Ann Marie would laugh.

It had never once seemed cruel. But now, suddenly, she could not bear the thought of it. She ordered the clams.

The dining room was crowded with young families and couples holding hands. They took a table by the window, one of the only free spots left. There was a crackling fire in the fireplace, and outside, fishing boats bobbed up and down in the harbor.

When Maggie went to the ladiesa room, Alice said, aNow, I know youare mad at me. Please donat be. I absolutely hate when youare mad.a aIam not mad,a Ann Marie said.

aYes, you are.a She sighed. aReally, Mom, Iam not. Itas fine.a aIt was naughty of me not to tell you,a Alice said. aBut you know Kathleen and her kidsa"when Maggie said she was staying on, I figured shead probably change her mind any day.a aBut she didnat.a aNo.a Aliceas tone took on an edge. aLook. I told you not to come in the first place. If itas such a burden for you, why donat you go home?a Ann Marie felt like a chastened child. She had changed all her plans to be here, yet Alice acted as if she were the ungrateful one.

aI want to stay,a she said to keep the peace. aIam sorry.a Alice smiled. aYouall stay in the big house with me. Weall put you in that front room with the best view of the water.a aThat sounds nice,a Ann Marie said.

Maggie came back to the table. Alice ordered two gla.s.ses of rum punch from the c.o.c.ktail waitress.

aThis one is becoming a killjoy like her mother,a Alice said accusatorily, pointing at Maggie. aDoesnat drink anymore.a Maggie had never been much of a drinker, which was hardly a surprise. In Irish families like theirs, there was always a person or two so terrified of becoming an alcoholic that they never gave themselves the chance. In Ann Marieas case, it was her sister Susan, who hadnat had anything stronger than an OaDoulas since college.

aIam just on a health kick lately,a Maggie said now. aTrying to lose some weight for summer.a Ann Marie tightened up, waiting for the inevitable.

aThatas smart thinking,a Alice said. aObviously you donat look your best at the moment. But youare young. The weight will fall right off you.a She paused. aYour hair looks nice, though.a aThanks,a Maggie said. She rolled her eyes at Ann Marie.

Alice switched gears. aAnn Marie, did you see that awful story on the news about the black boy in Dorchester who got killed by one of those sc.u.mmy gangs? Two blocks away from the house I grew up in. What is wrong with these blacks? Theyare mad for murdering each other. Itas their favorite hobby. They canat help themselves.a aGrandma!a Maggie hissed.

aWhat? Itas true.a Maggie looked flummoxed. aThereas a lot of history there. A lot of inequality and suffering.a aOh, please,a Alice said. aOur ancestors had to suffer horrible racism when they got to this countrya"there were IRISH NEED NOT APPLY signs in every window in Boston. Our people were treated worse than dogs. But they never made excuses. They helped themselves up, just the way the blacks should have done.a aItas different. African Americansa ancestors came here on slave ships and ours came here by choice.a aDo you really call dying from famine or going off to some unknown land a choice?a Alice said. aAnd did you really just compare the Irish to the blacks?a aYou shouldnat call them the blacks like that,a Maggie said.

Alice looked genuinely confused. aWhat should I call them? Afro-Americans? Or Negroes, as we said when I was young.a The couple at the next table swiveled their heads toward her.

aYou shouldnat call them anything,a Maggie said. aLetas change the subject.a Aliceas face grew stony, a look that said she was going to the dark side. The Kellehers never did know how to handle her.

Before Alice could respond, Ann Marie whispered urgently, aCanadians! Call them Canadians.a Alice made an expression as if to say that it was silly, but she would indulge them.

aFine. Canadians need to shape up. Better?a Maggie shook her head. aI guess.a aAnd why do Canadians have such filthy mouths?a Alice asked. aI stumbled onto something on the radio this morning. And well, why?a aI donat know,a Maggie said, looking weary.

aAnn Marie?a Alice asked.

aNo clue, Mom,a she said.

Ann Marie flagged down the waitress and ordered another rum punch, even though her first one was still half full.

She called Pat from the phone in Aliceas kitchen before bed. She was feeling slightly drunk and sorry for herself. No one ever told her anything. She tried to be an agreeable person, but what did it get her?

When she told him that Maggie hadnat left, Pat said, aWell good, then come home.a aNo, Iall stay,a she said. aThereas still so much to do around here.a She felt like a prisoner. She knew it was an overreactiona"anytime she wanted she could get in the car and go. But then what would she do for the next ten days? Patty had gotten another sitter for the kids. Her sisters were dealing with her mom. It was a bit disturbing how easily she could slip out of her own life without causing anyone much trouble. And anyway, all of her dollhouse furnishings were being sent here.

aWhatever you think,a Pat said. aI miss you, though. The house is too quiet without you puttering around.a She smiled. aWhat did you have for dinner?a aIall plead the fifth on that.a aPatrick!a She knew it. He had gone to McDonaldas. He was never allowed to eat fast food when she was present.

aI promise it wonat happen again,a he said. aForgive me, Iam a weak man.a aOkay then,a she said.

aLittle Daniel called this afternoon,a he said.

aOh?a aHe said he misses his dear old dad and thought he might come over for dinner some night this week.a Good boy. aWell, isnat that sweet?a aIt really put a smile on my face, I have to say.a aIam glad.a The exchange cheered her. She vowed to start tomorrow off right, to focus on the good. Before sleep, as always, she prayed. For her children and grandchildren, her mother and Alice, for Pat and the loved ones theyad lost. She said a special prayer for Maggie, who seemed so alone. She thought of her niece in the cottage next door, and had half a mind to go over there and tuck her in. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened to the crashing waves through the window.

Four days pa.s.sed, more or less pleasantly. She went to the Cliff House and took copious notes on the chicken (very good) and the beef (a little tough) and the shrimp (her favorite) for Regina. She cooked dinners, some of which she froze for her mother-in-law to eat later in the summer. She jogged on the beach and helped Alice in the garden and chatted with her niece, who seemed overburdeneda"by her breakup, Ann Marie supposed. The arrangement was strange; not at all what she had expected, but that was life. Soon enough June would be over, Maggie would go back to New York, and Pat would be here, along with Steve Brewer.

On her fifth morning in Maine, Ann Marie woke with a jolt to the sound of the garbage disposal and Aliceas voice coming from downstairs. It was only six thirty.

Alice sounded bright, happy.

aThatas what I meant,a she was saying. aI donat know if maybe one of the little ones put a marble down there or something.a aA marble?a came the amused voice of a man.

Ann Marie sat up in bed, straining to hear. Who was that? Her heart began to thump. She pictured Alice innocently answering the door, allowing some psychopath who claimed to be a plumber inside. Next, head be killing them both with a wrench and making off with their jewelry.

She pulled on her robe and went downstairs.

aMom?a she said to Aliceas back, and Alice and the man swiveled around at once, like two teenagers who had been caught necking.

ah.e.l.lo, darling,a Alice said, full of pep. She was wearing black capri pants and leather flats and a short-sleeved red sweater that they had purchased together on sale at Eileen Fisher months ago. Her makeup was done to perfection.

aYou remember Father Donnelly?a aOf course,a Ann Marie said, forcing herself to smile. There he stood, all in black, save for his white collar, looking about twelve years old. One of many things that disturbed her about aging was the fact that she could actually be twenty years older than a priest.

aHow are you, Father?a aVery well, thanks. I hope we didnat wake you.a aNot at all,a she said, making her way toward the coffeepot.

aI told Alice that Iad come by and take a look at this sink,a he said. aIam saying Ma.s.s at nine, so we figured the earlier, the better.a aHeas very handy,a Alice beamed.

Ann Marie nodded. aHow nice. But Mom, Pat can do all that stuff when he comes in a few days.a aItas no trouble,a Father Donnelly said. aItas the least I can do.a Ann Marieas mother used to invite the parish priests over to their house for dinner one Sunday a month. Shead make an enormous roast and mashed potatoes and pineapple cake. Ann Marie had carried on this tradition for years. Her entire life, she had seen women catering to priests, providing them with the sort of warmth a wife would under normal circ.u.mstances. Leave it to Alice to turn the tables and put the priest to work for her.

The two of them headed out to church before long. Alice left her car behind. Did Father Donnelly provide chauffeur services too?

After they left, Ann Marie scrubbed down the kitchen counters and mopped the floor. She made a chicken salad from a cold roast chicken she had found in the freezer the night before, with only four or five bites taken out of it. (Alice still cooked for a big family, even though she ate like a bird. Ann Marie did the same, but it was somehow less sad when two people were eating.) She showered and dressed, and then she set up shop at Aliceas kitchen table, pulling out a large white towel and a slight floss of pale pink ribbon. She got to work, making half a dozen tiny facecloths and bath towels, sewing the ribbon on by hand. Maggie came over and they ate toast and blueberry preserves from a local farm stand for breakfast. Ann Marie told her about the dollhouse compet.i.tion, and Maggie talked about her new novel. She didnat say anything about the boyfriend, and Ann Marie didnat mention him, not wanting to pry. But she thought to herself that by the time she was Maggieas age, shead had three children. What would become of her niece?

aYou know,a Maggie said, aI donat think you and I have ever been alone together before.a Ann Marie thought of that New Yearas Eve at her house when the kids were small. Kathleen and Paul, Clare and some boyfriend, and both of her own sisters and their husbands had come over for Chinese food, as was their tradition. Everyone was trashed, no one more than Kathleen, who had had so much gin that she was pa.s.sed out on the couch in the den by ten oaclock. Ann Marie wasnat drinking. She had had maybe two gla.s.ses of champagne all night. Around eleven, she heard a thud from upstairs. She ran to Pattyas room, following the sound of Maggieas cry. They had been roughhousing with the boys, and Maggie, only five years old, had fallen off the top bunk.

aSheas fine,a Paul had said with a laugh. aMy daughter is tough as nails.a Since her parents were both intoxicated, it was Ann Marie who took the child to the hospital. It was Ann Marie who rocked Maggie in her arms, as patients and staff gathered around the nursesa station to count down to midnight. It was Ann Marie who told her stories over by the window, and tried to shield Maggieas eyes from the steady stream of drunks who came through the door.

They waited for four hours. In the end, the doctor said she had a severely strained wrist and should ice it as much as possible.

aI think taking her to the hospital was a bit of an overreaction,a Kathleen said teasingly in the morning. Ann Marie wanted to take Maggie and Christopher and never let the woman see them again.

She didnat tell her niece this now. It was good that Maggie didnat remember it. She just said, aItas nice to spend a bit of time with you, sweetheart,a and left it at that.

A while later, Maggie headed to the cottage for a nap. It really hadnat been that long since shead gotten out of bed. Ann Marie was worried about her. She said, aRest up and Iall come get you when itas time for sandwiches.a Maybe shead try to talk to Maggie in the afternoon about whatever she had on her mind. Perhaps they could take a walk on the beach. Or Ann Marie could drive Maggie to Antiques on Nine and buy her something for her apartment to cheer her up, the way she had done with Patty before she got married.