Sociopath? (13 page)

“If it was me, I’d want a woman to tell me,”
he said, “so I could fix it.”

She laid her hand on his cheek. “I don’t
think it’s a problem you’re ever going to have to worry about,
Rafe.”

*

He dropped her off at her car, giving her a
last kiss.

“The answer to your question, Rafe, is yes.
I’m glad you talked me into going with you. You’ll always have a
special place in my memory, one I’ll probably drag out from time to
time when I need an uplift. But, Rafe, don’t come to the marina to
eat anymore, okay, and if you see me at one of the girls’ games,
just say hi and keep on going?”

He shook his head in agreement. “I know.”

As she was walking to her car, he called out,
“hey, Pam…”

“What?”

“If you ever get a craving for hot fudge,
just call me.”

She blew him a kiss. “That won’t happen,
Rafe, I’m running back to the straight and narrow as fast as my
legs will take me - but thanks.”

*

He drove away thinking, “mission
accomplished.”

* *

She put the thank you card in her Bible where
she thought Misty would never find it but she did.

“Mom, what did you ever do for Rafe Vincennes
that he would thank you for?”

“What do you mean?”

“I found a card in your Bible that said -
‘thanks, Rafe’ - I assumed it was Rafe Vincennes, he’s the only
Rafe we know.”

“Oh, he used to come into the marina for
lunch sometimes and we talked. One time he sat and confided in me
about the situation with his parents and Laney. The card was in my
purse and I used it for a bookmark. ”

“What about Laney and her parents?”

“That’s none of your business, Misty. It was
a confidential conversation.”

“I never remember Laney’s folks one time at
school or at our games. She hates being alone so much in that huge
house. She said if it wasn’t for Rafe, it would be terrible. We’re
poor but I’d rather live here with you than be rich like the
Vincennes.”

“Yes, sometimes, we envy people without
knowing the whole story, Miss.”

“Mom?”

“What?”

“Do you think Rafe Vincennes is hot?”

“I probably would if I was your age, why?”
(God, she hoped she wasn’t blushing!)

Misty giggled. “We passed around a poll at
school and he was voted the hottest boy by the middle school girls.
Do you think Rafe would ever go out with someone like me, Mom?”

“No! You’re too young for him.”

“He’s 16 and I’m 14, that’s only two years.
Wasn’t Dad five years older than you?”

“He’s going to be leaving for Princeton next
year and be hanging around with college girls. I don’t think he’ll
be interested in kids your age and now do you think we could change
the subject to something else besides Rafe Vincennes?”

“Gawd, Mom, why are you so grouchy?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,
Miss. I think I’m getting ready to start my period. I must have
PMS.”

“Do you think if Joe comes this weekend,
he’ll fix my closet door where it keeps getting off the track?”

“I’m sure he will, Honey.”

“I like Joe, Mom. He’s nice.”

Gratefully, “yes, Misty, he is nice, isn’t
he?”

* *

“Have you ever cried, Rafe?”

“I don’t know, Lane, I suppose I must have at
some time, when I was a baby.”

“I’ve never seen you cry. Even when the dog
attacked me and you got bitten, you didn’t cry.”

He smiled faintly. “Well, if I did, Honey, I
probably learned quickly enough that it wasn’t going to do me any
good. You know, there was no Rafe around when I was little, like
you had me. Maybe I just stopped doin’ it when I found out it was a
waste of time.”

* *

“Well, this is the last meet, Rafe. Are you
still determined to go off to college next year?”

“No question about it. My dad made it clear -
no college, no Corvette. I love three things in this world, Chet -
my sister, my dog and my car. Besides, it’s the way it is,
Vincennes sons go to Princeton. It’s like the law.” He grinned.

“I never expected when you first came to me
as a snot-nosed kid you’d have the talent for driving you turned
out to have, Rafe. I could see you going all the way with it, if
that’s what you decided to do.”

“I still might, but I have to get this out of
the way first.”

Chester held out his hand. “You’re welcome
back any time, Rafe. You come to me, you’ll always have a car to
drive.”

“Thanks. It’s been awesome.”

Chester sighed. He really hated to lose this
boy. It was true what he said about Rafe’s driving but you could
always find drivers. Finding great drivers with the kid’s charisma
was something else again.

* *

Magdelene always went all out for Christmas,
decorating the house to within an inch of its life. Huge swags of
evergreens with giant red and green plaid bows draped the golden
oak staircase. Enormous wreaths hung on every door. Lights shone
from every window. Banks of poinsettias filled the fireplace
hearths and extravagant red and white flower arrangements bedecked
every mantel and table. Out in the front courtyard was a flood-lit,
life-sized manger scene, imported from Italy, that put to shame
anything found in any church yard.

There were trees throughout the downstairs -
blue ones and white ones and green ones, decorated in various
themes but the piece de resistance was the 15-foot tree in the left
tower that opened into the living room. It was covered with white
lights and red bulbs and golden bows, along with ornaments made by
nine artistic young Vincennes’ throughout the years. Presents
spilled out into the floor in all directions. Christmas was the one
time Renny and Magdelene expected their entire family to return
home. Their children could spend Easter or Thanksgiving with
in-laws or friends or off on backpack journeys through Tibet or
what the hell ever but by God, they would drop whatever they were
doing and come home for Christmas day. When they were young, the
tradition was opening presents, followed by waffles for breakfast.
When they got older, they flipped that schedule and ate first, then
repaired to the living room for gifts. After that, they were all
free to nap or visit or watch television. The late afternoon was
turkey and ham with all the trimmings, followed by evening
mass.

Rafe had warned Duke early on. “If you
schedule a Christmas night dance, you’ll have to find a substitute
for me. My parents don’t excuse an absence at Christmas for any
reason except intensive care.”

So all the siblings were arriving. The garage
was full and the bedrooms were full, just like back in the old days
when they all lived at home. Morgan was 35 now. He came with his
wife, Jessica, and their two children (a dark boy, 10, and blonde
girl, 7), Logan and Jennifer. They lived on an estate in
Connecticut, Amber Hill. He was a partner in his law firm in New
York City. He still stayed in shape playing a cutthroat game of
racquet ball.

Wyatt was the only one who might have been
allowed off the hook for not showing up but fortunately, he was
able to get leave from the military. Wyatt was married too, to an
Air Force lieutenant, a lovely Mexican girl named Belen. They joked
and said one reason they got along so well was that they hardly
ever saw one another.

Mariel was the third to bring an in-law into
the Vincennes family. Her husband was British, Sir Reginald
Dunstan, Seventh Earl of Stancroft. (No one was surprised when
Mariel married a title). Actually, Reg was a heck of a nice guy who
didn’t put on airs like you might expect from an Earl, in fact, if
anyone put on airs, it was Mariel herself. They had two sons, both
black-haired, Reggie Jr and Hugh, 5 and 3 years old. They had
teasingly called her Lady Mariel even before she married into
royalty.

Denis was also there from New York, along
with his partner, Jeff. Denis was a full-time artist and Jeff was
an actor. They seemed to make a pretty good living in their two
unpredictable professions (not that any Vincennes ever had to worry
about making a living). Denis had never had a problem acknowledging
his sexual orientation because he knew none of his family cared,
all of them being totally non-homophobic.

Ditto, Jocelyn with her African-American
boyfriend, Edgar. They were engaged and would be married next June.
Together, they owned a psychiatric clinic in Boston and both had
about a hundred initials behind their names, which no one else in
the family could ever decipher. She was slender and platinum; he
was ebony and had the physique of a linebacker. Their colleagues in
psychiatry referred to them as Day and Night.

Gabe, of course, was playing piano on the
concert circuit. He and his girlfriend had broken up. She hadn’t
been as understanding about spending time apart as Wyatt’s
wife.

Annecy had completed her degree in veterinary
science and had just been hired at an animal clinic on Cape
Cod.

By the time everyone arrived with their
packages, the presents filled up half the living room floor. Their
socks all hung on the intricately carved mantel. You had to be a
sibling or a spouse to get a sock because Magdelene said the
girlfriends and boyfriends came and went too fast. She made an
exception for Jeff, of course. She figured he and Denis would be
married if the country ever became enlightened enough to allow gays
to wed in every state. There were usually no big surprises about
socks. They were filled with various kinds of expensive candy and
contained, in addition, a check for $1,000. (Morgan could remember
back to when it was only $500). There were other small things
tucked into the velvet stockings (a different color for each
individual Vincennes) - a gift card to a book or art store, a pair
of earrings, a miniature pewter Civil war soldier for Denis’
collection, a Waterford crystal animal for Annecy’s. The $1,000
checks were one reason they all almost always made it home. Renny’s
rule was that it was only good for Christmas Day. If you weren’t
there then, the check disappeared.

Laney thought it was exciting when everyone
was at Heron Point. She imagined what it must have been like when
they all lived here - all the noise and activity and people running
up and down the stairs and doors opening and closing and laughing
and music playing. Rafe said he could remember when Annecy and Gabe
and Jocey lived at home and when the others still spent their
college vacations here but by the time Lane was 5, even Annecy was
a teenager and the older ones were gone for good.

“So, Rafe,” Gabe asked him, “you’re racing
cars and playing guitar for a year before you go to Princeton,
huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe Dad let you get away with
that. None of the rest of us would have been allowed to postpone
college to play around for a year. Or to have a Corvette for our
first car. He must have mellowed in his old age.”

Rafe’s dark eyes captured Gabe’s, a slight
smile drifted across his face. “Think back, Gabe. Do you seriously
think I’ve had it better than you older ones?”

Gabe remembered Injun, the serious little boy
who always seemed to be charged with caring for his baby sister,
the silent little boy who was mostly ignored, even by their
parents. His eyes dropped, “no, Rafe, I don’t guess you did.”

*

Another Vincennes tradition was the Christmas
List. The kids had always looked forward to making out their wish
lists. Sometimes they worked on them for weeks, adding and
revising. It wasn’t unusual for them to carry over to the second
page. With great fanfare, they handed them in to Magdelene on
Thanksgiving. She wanted plenty of time to do all her shopping.
Unless they got completely crazy, they always got everything they
asked for - over the years that had meant bikes and games and
puppies and ponies and musical instruments and leather coats and
tennis bracelets and IPods.

Rafe was the hardest one of all to buy for
because there were very few things he seemed to want. Usually, his
list contained two items at most. The only gifts Magdelene could
ever remember that he seemed to feel passionate about were his
German Shepherd puppy, Raven, and the year he made a point of
asking to go to ski camp when he was nine and then to ask for a ski
weekend every year after that. He never even had a pony of his own
but simply took whichever one was standing in the barn when he
wanted to ride, before switching to Destiny. Rafe seemed to lack a
sense of possession, never craving stuff of his own like the other
kids but satisfied to make do with whatever was around. He liked to
fish but there were fishing poles galore at Heron Point and he’d
just take one that was there. He was still using Gabe’s old guitar
in the band and seemed content to continue doing so. If he wanted
to shoot, he got one of the guns out of the gun safe in Renny’s
study. Magdelene sometimes bought him clothes but he never asked
for anything special so she mostly got him jeans and shirts and
underwear and used her own judgment about the rest, like his
leather jacket. He wore whatever she bought him (she had excellent
taste in clothes if she did say so herself) but she thought if she
took something out of his closet and replaced it with something
else, he’d simply wear the new thing without comment. He didn’t
wear jewelry and he didn’t collect anything. His room was spartan,
without the bulletin board of souvenirs and memorabilia and team
pictures her other kids had highlighted. There were no banners or
posters on the walls. He never displayed the plaques or trophies or
blue ribbons he’d won. He’d never wanted a letter jacket or a class
ring and she didn’t think he’d bought any of his school yearbooks,
although his picture probably appeared in them more than anyone
else’s. She thought she should probably make an effort to buy them
herself. Everyone else’s were on a special shelf in the library.
(The idea would disappear from her head by the time the holiday was
over). He’d won the Regatta this year, and that was a big deal in
this part of the country, but she didn’t even know what happened to
the big silver bowl he was awarded for that triumph.