Authors: Laura Pedersen
Because it’s unlike Hayden to play religious music, Rosamond and Joey look at each other with curious expressions as they wait for the tape to begin. After the first few chords Rosamond recognizes the song from when she was a girl and they all three sing along with The Beatles:
“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me . . .”
When the song finishes Hayden turns down the volume and says, “That’s my vote for next pope.”
“Paul McCartney for pope?” Rosamond laughs at the idea of her mother superior making such a ridiculous announcement following vespers, the time when important news was communicated.
“No, silly. He’s probably Anglican,” says Hayden. “I think the next pope should take the name John Paul George Ringo.”
Joey bursts into giggles and Rosamond swats him on the back of the head and says “Oh
Hayden
,” but he can see the smile playing across her mouth.
While they wait for the drawbridge over the Gowanus Canal to close, Hayden explains how people once used it as a dump for garbage, old furniture, and broken-down shopping carts. Eventually community efforts to clean it up met with success and there was no longer an acrid smell at low tide. Marine life soon returned. And a family of swans had even made its home under the Carroll Street Bridge.
The Mermaid Parade turns out to be unlike anything they expected. Much to Joey’s disappointment, Hayden’s amusement, and Rosamond’s shock, more men than women are dressed up as over-the-top “mermaids.” They strut about wearing teased wigs of red and green seaweed, Cleopatra-style eye makeup, pointy gold cones as breastplates, and skintight Speedos that melt into blue scales painted onto shaved muscular legs.
Still, the three remain to enjoy the music of the Sea Monkey Orchestra, antique car show, and to watch King Neptune lead the parade. Afterward they have a hot dog at Nathan’s and stroll through the amusement park where Hayden convinces Joey and Rosamond to ride the ancient Cyclone roller coaster. Before entering the line Hayden shows Joey how to cheat up on his toes in order to make himself appear tall enough for the ride.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” says Rosamond and crosses herself as the man on the platform secures the padded metal bar over their shoulders. She’s frightened and excited at the same time, which strikes her as exactly the way she feels about Hayden.
“Just think how close we’ll be to heaven,” says Hayden. The rickety coaster starts up the hill and several riders are already bravely raising their arms above their heads, or, alternatively, screaming in terror over what’s to come. From the summit people appear to be the size of squirrels, and beyond the beach is the glittering dark green sea dotted with boats. For a moment it feels as if they’re on top of the world, as the gears go quiet and a nearby carousel can be heard pumping out “Under the Boardwalk.” When they suddenly drop perpendicular Hayden hopes that Rosamond will grab on to him in her fright, but she stoically grips the metal bar and emits a series of ear-piercing screams as the car navigates steep drops and turn after jarring turn.
chapter twenty-four
W
hen Hayden, Joey, and Rosamond arrive back from their travels early enough, as they do this evening, Rosamond goes into the kitchen and offers to help Diana prepare dinner.
Never having been assigned to do any cooking at the convent, Rosamond isn’t able to contribute much to the effort aside from chopping, stirring, and washing pots. Before becoming a nun she’d always eaten in school canteens. And prior to that a housekeeper or her stepmother had ruled over the kitchen at home.
However, Rosamond is eager to learn and Diana enjoys hearing about what the three of them have been up to all day. It was an excellent way to keep tabs on her father and son, since Rosamond’s natural honesty wasn’t tuned to what information might best be withheld from Diana, such as the morning Joey fell out of the boat while trying to net a fish.
When Diana discovers that Rosamond has developed no food preferences, the former nun explains that living communally is supposed to be an exercise in humility. And that catering to individual likes and dislikes highlights self-importance, thereby diminishing your ability to distinguish desires from needs.
Rosamond soon realizes that her breviary was missing one proverb: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. She’s noted how Hayden’s entire countenance lights up over the prospect of a good meal and how he speaks so reverentially of certain favorite dishes made by his late wife.
Diana is amused by the fact that her friend’s culinary experience has been firmly molded by the heart-attack-on-a-plate seventies—fried eggs and bacon for breakfast, spaghetti with canned tomato sauce or chicken salad mixed in a vat of mayonnaise for lunch, and for dinner meat loaf with vegetables boiled until they dissolve, or liver and fried onions.
So Diana introduces Rosamond to modern delights such as cranberry scones, Israeli couscous, roasted chicken with herbs de Provence, and the art of the vegetable stir-fry. And most important, the miracles of the microwave oven, Cuisinart, and Ziploc freezer bags.
Having a companion in the kitchen is equally pleasant for Diana. In addition to the fun of unveiling two decades of progress to someone who may as well have been sealed up in a bomb shelter, Diana realizes that she misses the company of her mother the most when cooking old family favorites. It’s nice to have a woman to talk with again. Whereas every time Diana invites Linda and her husband to dinner, she only ends up feeling humiliated by some remark her sister makes, always along the lines of how charming it is that she and Joey are “poor but happy” and how sweet and old-fashioned it is that Diana “makes everything from scratch.” The subtext is of course that cooking is a way to economize, not something that Diana enjoys and has a talent for. No, because that would force Linda to admit that Diana and their mother had shared something special together. Though it was true. The two women had spent many wonderful hours poring over recipe books, shopping and experimenting, delighting in their successes and joking about their failures.
Hayden and Joey are relieved that Diana has a project to keep her occupied in the evenings, which gives her less time to worry about their respective ailments and attempt to force jelly bean–sized vitamin pills on them.
After Joey is in bed and Hayden has gone to meet his drinking buddies, a.k.a., the self-styled Greyfriars Gang, Diana continues to catch Rosamond up on her favorite old romantic movies—
Casablanca
,
A Foreign Affair
, and
All This and Heaven Too.
Diana is also particularly fond of stories that feature love spoiled by terminal illness, plague, or nuclear holocaust, such as
Terms of Endearment
,
Outbreak
, and
On the Beach
.
Sometimes they page through
Vogue
and
Elle
, critiquing the latest fashions and making imaginary shopping lists. And despite an initial hesitation on Rosamond’s part, Diana slowly indoctrinates her new friend into the womanly secrets of styled hair, manicured nails, and a touch of makeup. Though Diana suspects that Rosamond permits the makeovers more for Diana’s benefit than her own, or perhaps in order to look nice for Hayden. It’s obvious to Diana that Rosamond is fascinated by her father. Whether it’s as a heathen who needs converting, a friend, or a love interest, she can’t be certain. Although she is sure that there is a charm bracelet on her friend’s wrist where there was no bracelet before.
It’s usually only during these intimate moments, when the two women are alone together, and yet not staring directly into each other’s faces, that Rosamond makes her subtle inquiries about Hayden.
This evening, while Diana is preoccupied with trimming Rosamond’s bangs, the former nun tries to sound offhand when approaching her favorite subject. “Your father doesn’t say much about his childhood.” But the keen interest in her bright blue eyes betrays the false nonchalance of her voice.
“That’s because Dad didn’t really have a childhood,” replies Diana. She’s proud of how her father employed his solid work ethic and good humor throughout his life in order to overcome a difficult beginning. “It was the end of World War II and his parents had struggled to keep the farm going without gas or electricity, you know, doing everything by hand, even making their own soap and tallow. Dad’s older brother lied about his age and joined the Royal Air Force at sixteen and was killed while dropping bombs over Berlin.”
“Oh!” Rosamond flinches and Diana just barely avoids glancing her forehead with the scissors.
“Careful!” says Diana. “I’m just glad that Dad was only a baby because I’m sure he would have run off to join some Highland maniacs and happily led the charge. Anyway, when Dad was ten his father died of cancer, and soon after that they lost the farm. There was a sister, Fiona, between the two boys, but they lost her to scarlet fever shortly after moving to a slum in Glasgow.”
“How awful!” Rosamond’s eyes grow wide with sadness.
Diana decides to take advantage of Rosamond’s preoccupation with Hayden’s childhood and trims the curls surrounding her cheeks so they frame her face.
“Dad of course wanted to go out and work but his mother made him attend school. She went from house to house in the better neighborhoods and gave music lessons. Eventually one of the men took a shine to her, they married, and Dad went off to Edinburgh to work his way through the university there, which is where he met Mom, and then came to the States.”
Diana pulls Rosamond’s hair back for a moment but decides it looks better loose around her face. “The day after they arrived here Dad saw an ad in the
New York Times
for an insurance salesman and essentially sold
himself
within five minutes. After two years he’d won every award in the business and was the youngest regional manager in the company’s history.”
“But your mother was American, right?” Rosamond asks. Then she turns her eyes down shyly. “Oh Diana, I hope you don’t think I’m being too nosy.”
“Don’t be silly. In the sixties Mom was an exchange student in Edinburgh from a good Episcopalian family in Westchester. They fell madly in love and when Mom’s year ended Dad was too broke to even afford his ticket to America—he had to charm the pants off his future father-in-law long distance, which, being Dad, he did with no trouble.”
Although she’s not aware of it, Rosamond begins to smile as she imagines a handsome young Hayden overcoming all obstacles for the woman he loves, and having a marvelous time for himself while doing so.
When Diana finishes styling Rosamond’s hair with some mousse and a blow-dryer she applies lipstick and then a few strokes of peach blush to her cheeks and forehead. She simply cannot comprehend how someone with such bright eyes, unspoiled skin, and lustrous hair can be terminally ill.
Studying her new look in the mirror Rosamond is reminded that hairstyles and makeup are the chief adornments of women, and as far as convent rules go, she’s committed sins against humility. She automatically assigns herself five Aves, five Paters, and five Glorias. Then she remembers her new vow, which is to stop torturing herself with her old vows.
To Diana she makes an effort to appear pleased. “That’s much better,” Rosamond says with forced cheer. “Those pieces on the side would never stay behind my veil and then I’d be tugging at it all day until it ended up cockeyed around my face.”
“Is that what you’d call a Bad Veil Day?” teases Diana.
When they hear Hayden’s boisterous entrance in the downstairs hallway both women look at the clock on Diana’s dresser and are surprised to find that it’s already a few minutes past midnight.
“It sounds as if he’s in good spirits,” says an expectant Rosamond.
“More like distilled spirits,” says a doubtful Diana.
“What
is
he singing?” asks Rosamond.
Diana hesitates to tell her but Hayden is coming up the stairs and his rich Scottish voice is only growing stronger. “It’s Gaelic.”
“Oh,” says Rosamond. “It’s a pretty song. What is it?”
“Mairi Bhoidheach.” Diana purposely gives the Gaelic name, rather than the English translation, “My Pretty Mary.”
The door to Diana’s room is open and Hayden stops his song mid-word, startled at seeing his friend looking so lovely with her clear, intensely blue eyes set deep in strong arches, and full florid cheeks that spread warmth and promise like the sun.
Hayden takes a few steps toward them but stops to balance himself with a hand on the dresser. “Rosie, you’ve . . . you’ve changed something.”
She’s unsure of whether he’s pleased or not with Diana’s alterations. “It’s just a bit of makeup and Diana trimmed my hair.” She reaches for a tissue to wipe off the lipstick the way the girls in the convent school used to do when returning from a trip into town.
“No, no.” He stares at her for a moment, “You’re so . . . so beautiful.”
Rosamond’s cheeks flush and she demurely casts down her eyes.
“Not that you needed improvin’ upon, mind you.” Hayden takes a step closer, as if she may be an apparition and he won’t be convinced she’s real until he touches her. Only as soon as he completely lets go of the dresser he stumbles and Diana rushes to his side, grabbing his arm and shoulder in order to steady him.
“Whoopsee!” shouts Hayden, a merry expression on his face, “I’m afraid the boys had me on the drink ’n’ drown plan tonight.”
Diana attempts to steer Hayden back toward the door. “Dad, stop blaming it on the boys.
You’re
the one who drinks too much. Now let’s get you to bed!”
“Whee!” shouts Hayden as he spins away from her grasp.
Diana takes his arm again, more firmly this time, and says, “Hush, before you wake the neighborhood.”
“Shhh,” slurs Hayden and puts a finger to his mouth. “You know why yer not supposed ta talk in church doncha—so you do’an’ wake anyone.” He laughs uproariously at his joke.
“Stop making God jokes,” says Diana, out of respect for Rosamond.
“I do’an’ make jokes, God talks to me,” insists Hayden. “For instance, just this evening He said, ‘Hayden, don’t make me come down there again!’ ” Hayden erupts in another gale of laughter.