Maine: A Novel Part 21

Kathleen heard footsteps behind her now. She clenched her hands. Please let it be a brutal serial killer and not Ann Marie.

She turned around.

aHi,a she said tersely.

aGood morning,a her sister-in-law replied. aDo you know where Alice is? It seems early for her to be at church.a aI have no idea,a Kathleen said. aYou spent the night with her. Oh G.o.d, is this the beginning of your elaborate cover-up? You pretend you donat know where she is, but then we find the body in your trunk a week from now?a aStop that. Iam concerned.a She could see that yesterdayas insanity was over, and Ann Marie had returned to her pod person self.

aI liked you better when you were acting nuts,a Kathleen said. aCan I see some more of that?a Ann Marie pursed her lips. aLetas try to be civil, okay? Iam sorry for how I acted. Pat will be here in a few days and you and Maggie will be leaving and weall each have time to sort ourselves out.a Kathleen got a wicked thought in her head, the sort Maggie would say was childish and mean. She couldnat help it. aWhat makes you think weall be leaving?a Ann Marieas eyes grew big. aJuly first is in four days,a she said.

aAnd?a aAnd July is our month.a aWell, June is my month, and youare here now.a Ann Marie sounded panicked. aWeave invited friends. Itas going to be a full house, Kathleen. You canat just stay.a Kathleen grinned. aWatch me.a

Alice.

Alice chose a table in the sun.

She a.s.sumed thatas what Father Donnelly would pick, since given the choice, everyone always tended to want to sit outside. It seemed pointless to her in a setting like thisa"a busy Portland street, traffic flying by, smog in your pancakes. But when the waiter had asked, aInside or out?a she immediately answered, aOut.a The one advantage was that she could smoke while she waited. It wasnat technically allowed, but no one had tried to stop her yet.

When Boston enacted the smoking ban a few years back, she had thought of her father, imagined him walking into a bar and being told to put out his cigarette. He would have been more likely to knock out the bartender. The older she got, the more she realized that while most girls grew up and turned into their mothers, she had become more like her father. Better to be an angry old bully than a pa.s.sive little wimp, she supposed, though people were more inclined to pity the wimp. That seemed to be Ann Marieas approach.

The previous night, Father Donnelly had called and asked her to meet him for an early breakfast before Ma.s.s. He wanted to talk about the house, he said; he had some concerns. She couldnat shake the feeling of being sent to the princ.i.p.alas office: Alice Brennan, did you steal the new pastels? Absolutely not, Sister Florence. I havenat a clue how they landed in my pocket.

They usually ate somewhere close to home, but Alice had chosen this placea"the closest thing Maine had to an anonymous city, far enough away from Briarwood Road, as if to distance herself from yesterdayas mortifying scene. She had gotten used to Father Donnellyas company these past few months. She was furious with herself for how she had acted in front of him, how they all had acted.

Ann Marie had behaved as though Alice was robbing her of her ancestral home, and Alice had seen in Father Donnellyas eyes that he felt pity for her daughter-in-law. She hoped she could make him understand the reason for her decision.

They were meeting at eight, but she had intentionally arrived early. Now she drank her tea and looked out over the crowded sidewalk, hoping to see him first. He was such a polite young man, so sweet and understanding. He was probably scandalized by what had gone on at her house the day before. In a way, whatever he had to say would be a welcome distraction set against her familyas problems.

Maggie was pregnant. Kathleen had accused Alice of not caring because of some lack of interest in the girl. But honestly, it wasnat that. It was the nerve of Maggie, coming to her home, stirring up the pot, asking questions about Alice and failing to mention her own circ.u.mstances. And all right, yes, it would have been more shocking coming from Fiona or Patty. Maggie was Kathleenas daughter, after all. There wasnat much she could do in the way of poor decision making to shock Alice.

Alice had enjoyed the past few weeks with her granddaughter. She may have gone a bit far calling Maggie a tramp, especially in front of the priest. That was one of the moments when she could actually feel Daniel looking down from Heaven, disapproving of her.

Ann Marie seemed convinced that Kathleen had come to persuade Maggie to have an abortion. If that was true, Alice might just be done with her daughter, once and for all. It sickened her that Kathleen would even think of it. Alice thought the only logical action for Maggie to take now was to marry Gabe. He wasnat all that bad when you got down to it. He was handsome, he came from money. He seemed to make her laugh.

Alice took a sip of tea. She felt exhausted. She had spent a long, hard night with her daughter-in-law, regretting ever having invited Ann Marie to bunk with her in the first place, regretting asking her to come back once she drove away.

And afterward, she was up thinking of what shead say here this morning.

After their fight the previous day, after Ann Marie sped off, Alice had walked Father Donnelly to his car (calmly, as if to offset Ann Marieas insane behavior). She apologized. She couldnat stop talking. She didnat want him to leave with a bad taste in his mouth. When he had left, she thought she might talk some sense into Maggie. But once she got back to the house, she found Maggie and Kathleen gone. Shortly thereafter, she watched them drive off somewhere. Alice sat alone for a bit, thinking about it all and sulking.

Ann Marie had told Kathleen that Alice was her responsibility now, as if Alice were some drooling old invalid. It was an unforgivable thing to say, not to mention highly out of character for Ann Marie. She was in trouble with her daughter-in-law, that much was clear. But Ann Marie was such a big softie. How long could she possibly stay angry? Alice needed her, especially now, with Kathleen lurking around.

Eventually, she had called Ann Marie on her cell phone.

aWhere are you?a Alice asked.

aIn Portsmouth. I stopped off for a minute, but Iam heading home to Patrick now.a aDonat go,a Alice said. aCome on back here and letas have a gla.s.s of wine and calm down. Canat we laugh about this?a aNo,a Ann Marie said.

aPlease, darling. I canat have you angry with me. Especially after Kathleen just shows up, and considering this terrible news of Maggieas. Iam hysterical; Iam afraid something awful will happen if you donat come back.a She began to cry the sort of crocodile tears she had used on her mother as a kid, whenever she wanted to get out of some unpleasant ch.o.r.e, or when one of her brothers caught her snooping in his desk and wanted an explanation.

There had been a long pause before Ann Marie said, aFine. Do you need anything from Rubyas? Iam going to stop for paper towels on the way back.a When Ann Marie walked in a while later smelling faintly of booze and something Alice could swear was menas cologne, she stiffly apologized for being so cruel, but said she was still very upset. Alice told her it was all right.

aI canat believe you sold the house,a Ann Marie said.

aDonated it,a Alice said calmly.

aI canat believe this.a aYes, you mentioned that.a aWell?a Ann Marie had said.

aWell, what?a Alice said.

aIs there any explanation?a Alice felt indignant, though she tried to suppress it. Who did Ann Marie think she was, demanding to know? How was it any of her business? Of course, there was a d.a.m.n good explanation, but all the same, if she told her children they would only try to talk her out of it. She attempted to sound jovial, but she felt like telling Ann Marie to get the h.e.l.l out.

aCalm down,a she said. aAt this rate, youall be choking on your own tongue in a minute. Now look. The church doesnat get a thing until I croak, and you know mean old creatures like me live forever. By the time I go, that dashing son of yours will have made millions and bought you ten beach houses better than this dump.a Ann Marie didnat crack a smile. aIam a good person, Alice. I donat deserve this.a Alice paused. aI know youare a good person. What I donat know is where Maggie and Kathleen have gone, but shall we boil up some spaghetti to go with that sauce for just us two?a aSure,a Ann Marie said glumly.

After that, they didnat talk about the house. They spoke about Maggieas situation and Ann Marie said she was furiousa"about that. Then they turned on PBS and pretended to be engrossed in a fairly bland production of Pride and Prejudice, which they had both watched in full only a month earlier.

The phone rang every hour or so, and Alice glanced at the display screen to see the number. Each time, it was Patrick on the line, and each time she ignored it.

aGo ahead and pick it up,a Ann Marie said.

Clearly, she had asked him to do her bidding.

aNo, I think Iall let it ring through,a Alice said. aItas probably one of those lousy telemarketers calling from India.a The waiter came over with a basket of bread. Alice asked him for a b.l.o.o.d.y Mary. The place was filling up. It would be rude to hold the table without ordering something besides tea. When he walked off, she unfolded the cloth napkin in the basket and pulled out three tiny jars of jam, which she promptly shoved into her purse. A moment later she gestured toward a busboy and said, aCould I get some jam, please?a aCertainly, maaam,a he said.

A driver leaned on his horn, giving her a start. That got a few other drivers going, and soon the whole street was an ugly symphony of honks and shouts. She never came this far north anymore, even though she could remember darting around these streets as a younger woman, ducking in and out of shops with Rita in tow. Nowadays she couldnat always trust her eyesight. She had had to squint at the road signs all along 95 on her way here, especially near home, where it was misty and gray.

Alice felt a hand on her shoulder.

aHi, there,a Father Donnelly said. aThanks for meeting me.a He looked as handsome as ever. He was wearing his collar. A couple of youngsters in suits at the next table stared. Had they never seen a priest before? Alice was embarra.s.sed that shead chosen this place. She hoped he didnat notice them.

She straightened up in her chair, turning her head. aI wasnat sure if youad want to sit outside or in. We could move inside if you like.a aThis is fine,a he said. aThis is lovely.a He sat down across from her. aHow are you doing?a aIave been better,a she said.

He nodded. aIam sure yesterday took a lot out of you.a aYes. Once again, please let me say how sorry I am that you had to see all that. I, for one, am so embarra.s.sed about how I acted.a He shook his head. aNot at all. Sometimes these things happen in families.a The waiter came by with the extra jam, and filled the priestas cup with coffee. Father Donnelly paused, waiting for the young man to leave.

aAlice, I thought youad told your children,a he said a moment later. aAnd while Iam eternally grateful even for the thought, Iam starting to have reservations about accepting the house. I donat want to be the cause of strife.a aDonat be silly,a she said.

aYour daughter-in-law seemed beside herself yesterday. Iam sorry that it had to come out that way, buta"a aMy daughter-in-law is the hysterical type,a Alice said. aAlways has been.a aIam confused about why you havenat discussed this with anyone,a he said.

aTheyall get used to it,a she said.

aWell, thatas what I mean. Iam not sure I feel right about that.a aIt was a momentary shock for Ann Marie,a she said. aBut believe me, none of them value the place.a aEven so,a he said.

aWhen you get old like me, youall start to view your life as a whole,a she said. aYouall see the things you did right, the things you made a mess of. Iave always tried to do right, Father, but usually I muck it up somehow or another. Just look.a aAt what?a aLook at my children, for starters.a aI think youave raised a wonderful family, Alice. Iave enjoyed getting to spend some time with Maggie these past few weeks.a aMaggieas pregnant,a she said. aKathleen hates me and so does my other daughter, Clare. Ann Marie only ever tolerated me because she wanted my house.a aThatas not true,a he said. aAs for Maggiea"a She interrupted him. aPlease. I canat talk about that now.a aCan I ask you a question?a he asked, and she nodded. aWhy did you decide to give your house to the church in the first place? It wasnat to get back at anyone, was it?a aAbsolutely not,a she said. She felt embarra.s.sed that he would even think so.

aThen why?a aThat church is incredibly important to me,a she said. aI gave a lot of thought to what you said about good deeds back when I called you about my sister last winter. This is a small way for me to atone. I know itas nothing, compared to my sin, buta"a aAlice, you canat blame yourself,a he said. aThereas no sin here. It was a fire. You had gone home before it even started.a aThatas just it,a she said softly. aThereas a part I left out. If I tell it to you now, here, will you consider it a confession?a aIf you like,a he said.

Alice knew she would only ever manage the courage to say it once. For that reason, she wanted her brothers to hear it, but they were gone. She wanted Daniel, but he was gone too. As she heard herself begin to tell the priest the truth, in a way she felt like she was confessing to them all. She pictured Mary, twenty-four years old for the rest of time.

aI didnat go home,a she said quietly. aThatas what everyone always thoughta"even my husbanda"but I was there all along. Iam the reason Mary was in the club when it burned.a He looked confused, as if he was unsure of whether she was telling the truth.

aThere was this blasted pair of gloves, and I refused to go inside to get them because I was angry about Henry proposing. Not that I should have been, buta"a She stopped herself. aIam not making any sense, am I?a He gave her his warmest smile. aTake your time,a he said.

Alice felt all riled up. Her heart pounded. She took a deep breath and started again. This time she told him everything. It surprised her how well she remembered exactly what she and Mary had said to each other, precisely how she felt watching her sister go back in to fetch her precious suede gloves. The high-pitched moan of the fire alarm.

As the words came out of her mouth, she was back on that frigid Boston sidewalk, immersed in chaos, taking in the sight of the dead and wounded, too fearful to do a thing for Mary, who lay dying on the other side of a plain stucco wall.

She recalled walking into her parentsa living room and feeling filled up with relief at the sight of her brothers. And then, moments later, how she had told them that Mary was inside the club, though that was as much as she could bear to admit.

She spoke of how little she had felt for Daniel then, how cold she had been to him. But how his presence after the fact seemed like a way out of the horror and a means of living a more virtuous life.

She confessed that she had never told Daniel the truth about that night, never told a soul.

Father Donnelly was too young to remember that the Cocoanut Grove fire had remained a fixture in the Boston papers and in common conversation for years after it happened. She told him how she had devoured the stories, though they always made her morose, and Daniel warned her not to read or listen to them.

After she read about a victim, she could never forget. She carried all of them with her. A family in Wilmington lost four sons, all servicemen home on leave. They were buried side by side in Wildwood Cemetery. Girls who worked with Alice at the law firm, whoad never even met them, would go to their graves and visit every Sat.u.r.day morning.

A twenty-year-old member of the Coast Guard named Clifford Johnson suffered burns over three-quarters of his body while helping twenty people to safety. He spent almost two years in Boston City Hospital. After hundreds of operations, he married his nurse and returned home to Missouri. In 1956, he was killed in a fire.

Each time she read one of the stories, Alice thought of her last words to Mary, and the look on her sisteras face that night.

You shouldnat have gone to bed with him, she had said, planting fear in her own sisteras head when she knew full well that Henry intended to propose.

She had allowed Mary to believe that Henry didnat want her, and because of something she had done. Perhaps it was the last thought Mary ever had. And now she would never know the truth.

When she finished talking, Alice looked across the table at Father Donnelly as if he were a stranger. She felt utterly exposed. She had thought of all of this over and over these past sixty years, but never said it out loud. Had it been worth it? She certainly didnat feel any better.

Her hands shook, and she had to place them in her lap.

Until now, it had been between her and G.o.d, and she had a.s.sumed that His wrath would be strong, which was all that she deserved. But the priest looked as if he might cry. She could swear she saw tears in his eyes.

He shook his head. aOh, Alice, Iam so sorry.a aSorry?a aHere youave been, carrying this around all these years for no reason. You didnat do anything wrong.a aOf course I did.a He reached across the table and placed a hand on top of hers.

aIam concerned that this still brings you so much torment,a he said. aAnd youave never thought of talking it over with your children?a What could she possibly tell her children about all of this? That her only sister had died just a few hours shy of her engagement? That the event was a tragedy, but everyone always said that it led to new fire codes across the country and innovations in burn treatment? That youad never find a door in Boston that opened inward, or a revolving door anywhere that wasnat flanked by two regular doors, because of it?

That she had not met her husbandas eye across a crowded room and fallen in love like in the movies, but rather, that she had seen him as a means of escape? That her sister had died because of Aliceas stubbornness and anger, two things she could never let go of, even so, even now.

aNo,a she said.

aIt might be a great comfort,a he said. aTheyad tell you the same things Iam saying here, I know they would.a She wondered if he hadnat understood. He was young, as young as some of her grandchildren, and maybe that made all the difference. Even though he was a priest, he wasnat one in the old sense of the word. He didnat believe in fire and brimstone. He probably didnat even believe in h.e.l.l. She wanted someone harsher here, someone to take a Brillo pad to her sins and scrub until she bled.

aI killed my sister,a she said.

aNo, Alice!a he said. He inhaled deeply. aHereas something to think about. You told me at your house last winter that before your sister died you never intended to marry or have children.a She thought of what Kathleen had said the day beforea"you really werenat that talented a a stupid childish dream. It was similar to something Daniel had said the night they met.

He went on. aMaryas death was a great loss. But consider how much joya"how many lives have come into being because of it. And because of you.a She felt uneasy with this sweetsy mumbo jumbo. If she had wanted positive affirmations that she was worthy and good, shead be paying some cheerleader by the hour the way Kathleen did.

aAfter she died, I promised G.o.d that Iad do better. I put all of my childish hopes away and tried, for Maryas sake, to do everything she would have done. But I failed miserably. My children donat respect me. They donat even have faith in G.o.d. It should have been me that died that night.a aYouare being much too hard on yourself,a he said.

aPlease donat try to make me feel better,a she said. aItas not what Iam after.a aWhat are you after?a aI want to die in as close to a state of grace as I can,a she said. aSo that I can see my husband and sister again.a He shook his head. aIall grant you an indulgence here and now if that will help, Alice. You donat have to give away your familyas home for that.a aAn indulgence comes from devoting oneself or oneas goods to those in need,a she said, snapping at him the way she might have at one of her children. aYou canat just give it to me.a aAlice. If this whole thing is motivated by guilt, I canat accept it in good faith. You know that.a aItas not guilt,a she said. aGiving you the house is my last chance to do something meaningful. Itas too late for anything else.a She thought of St. Agnes, her comfy old church in Canton, which was set to be demolished with a wrecking ball in the fall. How had she let that happen? Not since the months and years following Maryas death had she spent so many sleepless nights wondering how something so beloved could simply slip through her fingers like water.

aUnderstand the property is mine and no one elseas,a she said sternly. aWhatever hysteria you may have witnessed yesterday, no one loves the place more than I do. But let me be clear. I would burn that house to the ground today if it meant that St. Michaelas could still stand. If it wasnat for the Church, I probably wouldnat have made it. I probably wouldnat be sitting here now. I donat even want to think of a world where people wonat have that sort of thing in their lives.a He nodded. aI appreciate that. I just want to make sure youare doing this for the right reasons.a aItas done and it wonat be undone,a she said. aI gave it plenty of thought before I signed the papers.a aWell, then, I thank you again,a he said. aYour kind of generosity is rare in this world, Alice. Youare going to be the key to our survival.a She thought of an afternoon a few weeks earlier, when she had stood beside him in a hospital room, watching as he read a dying man his last rites. The man had been so truly comforted by it. She wished her children could understand that sort of power. She thought that perhaps she was being too hard on Father Donnelly this morning.

aI think youare the key,a she said, and she felt more confident in her decision than ever.

Maggie.

The morning after the fight, Maggie woke up to find her mother and Ann Marie sitting out on the deck, drinking tea. It must have rained earliera"here and there were pools of water on the wood, drying up in the hot morning sun. Kathleen was reading the paper and Ann Marie appeared to be gluing tiny b.u.t.tons onto squares of blue fabric. For a moment, Maggie thought that perhaps a miracle had occurred and the two of them were getting along. If that was the case, she would swear right now that peace in the Middle East would be achieved in her lifetime.

But as soon as she slid the screen door open and said good morning, Kathleen looked up from her paper and said, aMags, thereas this amazing story about Whitey Bulger in todayas Globe. Youave got to read it.a Whitey Bulger was an Irish mobster from Southie who had risen to power mainly because of a shady relationship with the FBI. His brother had gone the other waya"attending law school and eventually becoming president of the Ma.s.sachusetts state senate. They had grown up in the same neighborhood as Ann Marie; her brother was once some sort of low-level criminal in Whitey Bulgeras gang. Kathleen loved mentioning anything vaguely related to this fact when Ann Marie was around, simply because she knew it would embarra.s.s her.

Now Kathleen said, aDid you realize Whitey Bulger had a child? It says here that the little boy died of some rare disorder and thatas part of what made Whitey and his boys so vicious. Fascinating, huh?a Ann Marie had been smiling seconds earlier, but now she looked at her lap.

Maggie hated it when her mother went into bully mode. She shot her a look.

What? Kathleen mouthed, as if she had no clue what she had done.

This exchange, like so many other things lately, reminded Maggie of Gabe, even though it had nothing to do with him, really. Maggie had been obsessed with the Bulgers as a kid; she a.s.sumed everyone knew who they were. But when she mentioned them to Gabe once, he had laughed so hard that beer came out of his nostrils.

aWhatas so funny?a she had asked.

aWhitey Bulger?a he said, incredulous. aThat sounds like something a frat boy would name his d.i.c.k.a Kathleen put her bare feet up on a plastic cooler that had probably been sitting there since the previous August.

aDo you feel like going to the diner for breakfast?a she asked.

Maggie was famished, but she wasnat sure she wanted to be alone with her mother. She felt annoyed that Kathleen had come, and mad at herself for being annoyed. She kept trying to shake the feeling, but truly, it had been better here without her.

Kathleen wanted her to move to California. Each time they were alone, she brought it up. It was a preposterous idea, though Maggie wondered if it rubbed her the wrong way because she knew it was a real possibility. She was consumed by fears of not having enough moneya"in New York, she still struggled just to support herself. What if she couldnat afford this child, and actually had to move in with her mother? There shead be, raising a kid alone, in the shadow of Kathleenas goofball hippie boyfriend and his worm farm; in the shadow of Kathleen herself, who would never be able to stop reminding Maggie of how little she wanted a baby around.

aAunt Ann Marie?a she asked now. aThe diner?a aOh, no, not for me, thanks, sweetie,a Ann Marie said. aIam trying to slim down for Fourth of July week.a aWhy?a Kathleen asked. aYou want to wow Patrick with your hot bikini bod?a Ann Marie looked down at her b.u.t.tons again.

aWhat are you doing over there anyway?a Kathleen asked.

aIam making a slipcover.a aFor?a aA couch.a aSheas a finalist in this really prestigious house decorating compet.i.tion,a Maggie said.

aYes,a Ann Marie said. aPat and I are going to London for the judging.a Kathleen stretched out her leg, pointed her toes. aHouse decorating?a aSmall-scale house decorating models.a Ann Marie looked fl.u.s.tered. It seemed like maybe she was just making up terms now.

aDollhouses,a Maggie said, and before her mother could get a word in she continued, aItas so cool. There was an entire exhibition of them at the Brooklyn Museum recently. Amazing stuff.a Kathleen looked at Maggie. aSo go throw some clothes on and Iall buy you breakfast, just the two of us.a aIad love to, but I have to do some work stuff,a Maggie said.

aAre you avoiding me?a Kathleen asked in a joking tone, though Maggie knew her well enough to know she was dead serious. It wasnat even the first time shead said it in the last twenty-four hours.

They had gone to dinner the night before and then been trapped in the cottage together until they went to bed. Her mother had had plenty of time to lay out her absurd plan: Maggie should move to wine country and raise her child in the healthy surroundings of a teetotaleras worm farm. Delightful! Maggie didnat say that she thought Kathleenas lifestyle was odd, or that visiting for a week was enough to put her over the edge. She didnat say that Kathleenas house was so d.a.m.n filthy shead be afraid to raise a hamster in it, let alone a child. Maggie understood how to hold back.