Maine (45 page)

She picked up the phone and saw Alice’s number on the screen. She inhaled deeply, said hello.

Alice didn’t apologize for what she had done, but she asked Ann Marie to come home, and said she couldn’t be alone with Kathleen.

“I’m afraid something awful will happen if you don’t come back,” Alice said.

Ann Marie knew it was manipulative, and she had no interest in seeing her, but she told her mother-in-law she would return soon.

She suddenly remembered that the paper towel dispenser in the cottage was empty and figured she might as well go to Ruby’s Market on the way back. She asked Alice if she needed anything else, cursing herself for being so darn accommodating, even after what had happened. She was still upset, but what was she going to do—drive home to Pat and never speak to his mother again? There were people in every family who were capable of doing something like that, and people who weren’t.

When she told Adam she was leaving, he tried to persuade her to stay for one more round, but the spell had been broken, and Ann Marie just wanted to get home to the beach. He asked her for her card.

“I’m in the book,” she said. “And online. Ann Marie Clancy Designs.”

It sounded absurd once the words were out of her mouth. She could feel herself blushing at the lie. But if he could tell, he did not say so. He only said, “It was a pleasure dancing with you, Ms. Clancy.”

   Around three o’clock on the first of July, Pat called her from the New Hampshire tolls to say that he would be arriving in the next half hour, and the Brewers were two cars behind. Ann Marie made one last round of the cottage, making sure it looked perfect. She opened a bottle of wine to let it breathe. She set a tray of scallops in the oven. She had wrapped them in bacon that morning and dipped strawberries in melted chocolate.

There was one more thing she wanted to do before they arrived. She found the card she had bought at Shop ’n Save on the table in the hall and headed outside to find Maggie. She had meant to give it to her niece yesterday, but then she lost track of time, and anyway, Maggie was rarely out of Kathleen’s sight.

Ann Marie stepped out into the sunshine. She didn’t have to go very far. Maggie was sitting on the ground at the edge of the property, her back resting against a massive pine tree. She was scribbling in a notebook, occasionally glancing out over the water. Ann Marie wondered what she was writing.

“Maggie!” she called.

Her niece turned her head.

“Don’t get up,” Ann Marie said, but Maggie was already rising to walk toward her.

“Isn’t it a gorgeous day?” Maggie said when they met in the grass. “It seems like July arrived today and boom—now the weather is acting in kind. I haven’t seen it so warm here in years.”

Ann Marie thought about the cottage schedule and felt a bit guilty. She and Pat had originally thought of rotating the months each Kelleher kid got from year to year, but it just seemed too confusing. They wanted July for themselves. And since Clare still had a son in school, it seemed that August was the logical month for her. Which left June for Kathleen and Maggie and Chris.

“It is nice,” Ann Marie said now. “It almost feels like you could get in the water without dying of hypothermia.”

Maggie smiled.

“Your uncle and our friends are coming soon,” Ann Marie said. “They should be here any minute.”

“I’m sorry my mom’s being so stubborn about us staying on,” Maggie said. “I’d leave, but I don’t trust her here on her own. I’m sure it’s only for a day or so, to make a statement or something. You know how she is.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Anyway, honey, I wanted to give you something. Here,” she said, awkwardly pushing the envelope forth.

Maggie ripped the paper and pulled out the card. On the front was a picture of a pink and blue rattle, with
CONGRATULATIONS
written underneath.

“Thank you,” Maggie said. She began to tear up. “You’re the first person to congratulate me.”

A few seconds later she was laughing. “I’m so emotional lately,” she said. “I cry at everything.”

“I was the same way,” Ann Marie said. “So was Patty. You two will have to compare notes. She’s got it all down to a science now. And her attic is absolutely crammed full of baby clothes. They’re not having any more, so—it’s all yours. Next time you come up to Boston, we’ll go through it.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said.

“Patty will be here next week, so if you’re still around …”

She prayed that Maggie and Kathleen would be gone by then.

“Don’t worry,” Maggie said. “I’m already working on getting my mother out of here.”

Maggie opened the card. Seeing the folded-up catalog page inside, she asked, “What’s this?”

“Just a token from me to you,” Ann Marie said.

Maggie unfolded the page and smiled strangely. “A stroller?” she said.

“It’s called the Bugaboo Bee,” Ann Marie said. She pointed to the description. “See, it says here that this model ‘answers the call of the modern! Compact yet complete, for parents who live life on the fly!’ It sounded like a good fit for a city gal to me. I had it shipped to your apartment. It should be waiting there when you get home.”

“Oh my gosh,” Maggie said, staring down at the glossy sheet of paper in her hands. “This is too much. Thank you.”

Ann Marie had tried to cross out the price with a pen, but she had succeeded only at drawing attention to the figure: six hundred dollars—that’s what these things went for today. On some level, the gift was a bribe. If, God forbid, Maggie was having any doubts about keeping the baby, then seeing a beautiful stroller in her apartment day after day would serve to remind her that she was carrying a blessed child and needed to stay the course.

“I have to go, honey. I have scallops in the oven. Come over later and say hello to our friends.”

“I will,” Maggie said. She hugged Ann Marie tight and Ann Marie felt like she might cry too.

“Thank you so much,” Maggie said.

“It’s nothing.”

She wondered what on earth had turned Maggie into such a good girl—she was so sweet and polite. It was probably because Maggie had had to look after herself a bit, same as Ann Marie had. Before she could think it over she blurted out, “You can come live with me and Pat, now or when the baby comes. I’ll take care of you. If you want.”

“That’s really generous,” Maggie said. “I guess we’ll see how it all shakes out.”

She nodded. “Fine.”

Ann Marie went into the house to put on one of her new Lilly Pulitzer dresses. It was sherbet green, with pink blossoms printed all over. She hadn’t even taken the tags off yet, and when she did so and pulled it on, she thought she looked pretty cute. She applied a bit of lip gloss and mascara, and then she waited.

They turned their cars onto the grass a short while later and got out, all three of them talking and laughing, changing the quiet energy in the air. Ann Marie walked outside to greet them.

“Hi there!” she said cheerfully. “Welcome!”

“Ann Marie,” Linda said, hugging her. “This place is to die for.”

“Oh, you’re sweet,” she said in a modest tone she had learned years ago when they first moved to Newton.

Steve came up behind his wife, with an oversize duffel bag on each shoulder. He gave Ann Marie an awkward hug, since the bags kept lurching forward, but he said, “You look great. I think this ocean view agrees with you.”

She felt the same flutter that she always did in his presence.

“Well, come on in. I’ve got scallops and strawberries and a cheese plate and a bottle of wine with your name on them,” she said, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss him.

“Always the hostess with the mostess,” Linda said.

Pat was behind Steve. When he reached her, he gave her a long, hard squeeze.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

She patted his face. He had definitely been sneaking fast food every day since she left. His cheeks looked puffy, and there were a couple extra pounds around his belly. She’d mention it later.

“Me too,” she said for now.

Inside the cottage, they left their bags in the hall and settled into the living room, where Ann Marie poured them all a glass of wine. She set the hors d’oeuvres on a big silver platter on the ottoman, like she had seen a hostess do in the last issue of
House & Garden
.

Steve sat at the piano bench, even though the armchair was empty and there was plenty of room beside Linda on the sofa.

He ran his fingers clumsily over the keys.

“You play?” Pat asked.

“Oh yes, I’m a regular Ray Charles,” he said. “You should hear my version of ‘Heart and Soul.’ ”

Pat started talking about the traffic, and Linda praised the Gruyère, asking where Ann Marie had found it. Ann Marie responded warmly, but she was slightly ticked that none of them, not even Steve, mentioned her dollhouse, which was sitting right there on the table in the middle of the room.

Finally, she walked toward the house and said, “The funniest thing happened when the UPS man delivered this.”

They paused before Pat said, “Oh? What?”

Drat, nothing all that interesting had happened with the UPS man.

“He couldn’t fit it through the door,” she improvised. “So he had to hoist it up onto the deck and then bring it through the slider.”

“How could he—,” Pat began, but Steve interrupted, “Is that the one for that big competition you won?”

She nodded, pleased that he remembered.

“It’s a beauty,” he said.

“It is,” his wife agreed.

“Thank you. I always wanted one in brick. They’re very unusual.”

“Is that right?” Linda asked. “Oh, I love the little doghouse in the yard.”

Ann Marie had painted it gray the night before, and she had made a white bone out of clay, which you could see only if you peered inside.

“I have a lot left to do on it,” she said. “The curtains and rugs were my main projects this week. And the lawn.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy,” Steve said. “Hopefully now you’ll have time to relax.”

Then he raised his glass and said, “To an unforgettable week!”

They all got to their feet and stood by the dollhouse. They clinked their glasses together, and Ann Marie felt grateful to be here with people who appreciated her. For a moment, it was as if the last few days had never passed.

   The next morning, Pat and Steve went to play eighteen holes. Ann Marie and Linda slept in, and then decided to go down to the beach. For the first time since she could remember, Ann Marie didn’t bother inviting Alice to come along. Not that she would have said yes—Alice hardly ever set foot on the beach, and she seemed to be avoiding them, staying hidden away in the house next door when she wasn’t at church. She hadn’t even stopped in to say hello to the Brewers yet. This was fine by Ann Marie, since she wanted to scream each time she saw her mother-in-law’s face. But even so, the decision not to include Alice felt momentous somehow.

They placed their chairs on the dry sand up by the dunes, so they wouldn’t have to move them when the tide came in. Between them was a tote bag full of sunblock and water and magazines, and a bottle of white wine with two plastic cups slung over the top.

“How marvelous to have this all to yourselves,” Linda said, gazing up and down the shore as she untied her sarong. She looked better than she had last summer—her legs seemed more toned, her arms a bit less saggy. Ann Marie sucked in her gut and decided not to take her shorts off. “It must be so great to be able to just dash inside the house and get a snack or change out of your bathing suit if you want to.”

Ann Marie nodded. “It’s nice, especially with the grandkids. You can put them down for a nap up in the cottage and bring the baby monitor down here to the beach.”

“How civilized!”

“I know.”

They smothered themselves in sunblock, rubbing the white cream into their legs and arms until it disappeared, leaving a clear sheen behind.

“Gotta love the Irish skin,” Linda said with a laugh.

“Tell me about it,” Ann Marie said. “So, what have I missed in the neighborhood since I’ve been gone?”

“Not much,” Linda said. She reached for the bottle of wine. “May I?”

“Please,” Ann Marie said. It was only eleven o’clock, but what the heck? They were on vacation.

Linda poured the wine and said, “I hear through the grapevine that Josephine’s husband might be leaving her.”

“Ted? No!”

“Yes. And I’m not even sure I can tell you for who.”

“Oh God.”

“The babysitter. She’s a sophomore at Tufts.”

“Poor Josie!”

“I know. I told Steve if he ever humiliated me like that, they’d never find his body.”

They giggled, though Ann Marie wondered for a split second if Linda was onto her and Steve. Was this her way of saying back off? For some reason, the thought of it gave Ann Marie a rush.

They chatted about their kids, and their neighbors, and how quickly the summer was passing by.

Eventually, they pulled a couple of magazines out of the beach bag and started talking about celebrities, pointing out funny stories to each other. They passed an hour pleasantly this way. And then, as if sensing Ann Marie’s tranquillity, Kathleen came along to shatter it.

Ann Marie hadn’t even noticed someone had approached them until Linda said cautiously, “Hello there.”

When she looked up, Kathleen was hovering overhead in shorts and a T-shirt. She had a rolled-up towel under her arm, one of the threadbare brown ones from the linen closet in the cottage. Ann Marie never used those—she bought new towels almost every fall at the postsummer sales, and brought them from home the following season.

She felt like telling Kathleen to buzz off, but instead she said, “Linda, meet my sister-in-law Kathleen.”

“Oh!” Linda said, putting a hand over her heart. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other! You scared me there for a minute!”

The scariest part is that we do know each other
, Ann Marie thought.

“What are you up to?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Taking a walk,” Kathleen said. “You don’t mind if I take a walk on the beach, do you? It being July and all.”