Compass Rose Part 19

"Walt said something about ... He said Phoebe's a slave of the gla.s.s city."

"Yes. Good. So you know the story."

"No, just what Walt mentioned."

Deirdre nodded. "I'll bring you the book. Are you into science fiction?"

"No," Elsie said. "Unless you count Ovid's Metamorphoses." She wasn't sure why she threw that in. She said, "That was years ago, when I was doing Latin with Miss Perry." She didn't like the eager claim Deirdre was making, but she didn't like herself as a sn.o.b.

Deirdre was unrebuffed. "I don't know about Ovid. But sure. All that Greek stuff-sort of science fiction."

"Ovid was a Roman."

"I really want you to read it. It'll make our getting to know each other go faster. You'll see what I mean. It's not just that we're both outdoors people. We make our own rules. We're like sisters."

Penance, Elsie thought. It's part of my penance to come face-to-face with this doppelganger, this would-be doppelganger.

Deirdre said, "And I know I could learn stuff from you that would help. I mean, it's eerie that you hooked up with d.i.c.k, and here I am with Charlie. What I don't get is how come May hates me and she seems sort of okay with you. You slept with her husband. I'm just sleeping with her son."

Elsie sat up so fast her chair creaked.

Deirdre stood. She said, "I should put some water in this cranberry juice. I should be rehydrating."

Elsie laughed. The woman was like a kid's paddleball game. She smacked out a thought that got as far as somebody else, but then her attention reached the end of its elastic cord and bounced back to herself.

"What?" Deirdre said. "Is it because I'm so intense about nutrition? No, wait, I get it. I'm wired. I used to get like this when I'd been alone in my cabin, and I'd bike into the general store and I'd be way too on. It made some of the old codgers laugh, too." When she got to the kitchen sink, she put her gla.s.s down. Her shoulders fell. She turned and said, "After a while they got to like me."

"Oh, Deirdre," Elsie said.

"No, they really did. I wasn't flirting with them, either. It was winter, and I was wearing so many clothes I looked like the Michelin tire man."

"No, it's not that."

"It's that I'm annoying you. I should get on home. It's still a ride to Narragansett."

"I'll give you a lift-I have a bike rack. Drink your juice and relax a little."

That was enough. Deirdre walked around silently, looking at Elsie's bookshelf. After a while Deirdre said, "Th.o.r.eau. You've got a lot of Th.o.r.eau. Have you ever wondered what he sounded like? I've tried to imagine his voice. It's kind of sad that voices disappear. I love the Maine accent. When I was alone in my cabin for a long while I'd start hearing one of the old guys from the general store, the one I liked the most. It was like he was there. You know how you get when you're living by yourself. One time I was splitting wood for kindling, I was holding the log with one hand round it and swinging the ax with the other. His voice said, 'Not so fast, they-ah, young lady. You might just want that thumb late-ah on.' " Deirdre laughed. Elsie was struck dumb. Deirdre said, "I thought what he said was pretty funny. Right, too. Next time I saw him, I told him what he'd said. He laughed at my version of a down east accent; he said it would take me a few years to get it right. It's just right for setting someone straight. I hope it doesn't die out. Children don't talk the way their parents do. Maybe it's TV. But Charlie didn't watch TV, and he has less of a Yankee accent than d.i.c.k and May."

"Wait," Elsie said. "Did Charlie say anything about the play? About the way Rose talked when she was pretending to be the maid? When she said, 'I'm smaht enough to know the fu-cha you have in mind.' "

"Oh." Deirdre squinted. "No. Not about that. Of course, I didn't go backstage with him, so they might have talked about it then. I don't think so, though, because he told me pretty much everything. Someone said Mary Scanlon taught Rose how to sing, and Tom said that he'd taught her how to be funny. Charlie thought that was a laugh. Charlie hadn't ever heard Rose sing. He missed Miss Perry's funeral, and he didn't go to Sylvia Teixeira's wedding-which he should have, it might have helped him see that people can just move on."

"That's it?"

"About the play. But one thing Charlie really liked was when the old guy, the actor with white hair ... when he came over he said, 'These are your proud parents,' and Rose said, 'And this is my father, d.i.c.k Pierce. His wife, May. And these are my brothers, Charlie and Tom.' It wasn't just that she handled it. All the other kids from the play were just running around, making a fuss over themselves, and there Rose was ... Charlie really liked her saying, 'These are my brothers, Charlie and Tom.' "

Elsie resisted imagining the sound of Rose's voice, resisted imagining Rose's state of mind when she'd grabbed her in the parking lot. She dug in harder-her argument might have been wrong, but she was right to worry. She thought of Rose's saying, "If I can't find a spare bed, I'll sleep on the floor"-pathetic teenage self-pity. Then Elsie gave way. Rose had said, "This is my father ... These are my brothers," when Rose was the center of attention.

She'd been horrible to Rose.

chapter fifty-five.

May was just finis.h.i.+ng ironing when the phone rang. She said, "h.e.l.lo?" There was a pause. A women's voice said, "Mrs. Pierce? Please hold, I have Mr. Aldrich on the line for you." Another pause and she heard a booming voice. "h.e.l.lo, May! Sorry about that. I've got people running in and out. This is Jack Aldrich."

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Aldrich."

"Jack, please. I saw you were at Rose's play-wasn't she great? I knew she had a voice, but what stage presence. We couldn't have guessed, could we? It seems like yesterday she was a little girl. Look, I'm sure you've got lots to do. So I'll get to what's on my mind. I want to apologize. I've been remiss about being a good neighbor. I've been thinking about how many ties we already have. I guess you must have heard from Rose that I'm going to put her play on over here." May wondered how Mr. Aldrich knew about her and Rose. It could be Phoebe'd been a chatterbox. She hoped Mr. Aldrich wouldn't go on about that. "And your boy Tom," he said. "I can't say enough about him. Great job building the new dock. More than building-he's got good ideas about our whole waterfront. I could see a future for him here at Sawtooth. I know he works for Eddie Wormsley, but one of these days he may want to be part of something bigger. I like the cut of his jib." May supposed she ought to say something, but she was still nervous and bothered by Mr. Aldrich's trying to sound like an old salt. Mr. Aldrich kept right on; she didn't have time to say thank you. "There are all sorts of ways we can get together. One thing just occurred to me. What if I bought a little eas.e.m.e.nt from you, just to put a footbridge across Pierce Creek so a few of our Sawtooth nature lovers could get across to the nature sanctuary? Way down at the tail end of your three acres. I don't think you'd even see it. If d.i.c.k is changing over from the red-crab fishery and getting back to lobstering, there might be a readjustment period, and a healthy payment for an eas.e.m.e.nt might bridge the gap. More than bridge the gap."

"d.i.c.k's at sea."

"Yes, I understand that. I'm looking forward to talking to him, too. I just want to give you time to give it some thought on your own. You could talk to Eddie Wormsley-he'd be the one to build the bridge-and Eddie could tell you he and I work things out fair and square, like old s.h.i.+pmates."

There he went again. But what bothered her more was his saying he and Eddie work things out fair and square, and not a minute before he'd been talking about hiring Tom away from Eddie. She said, "Eddie is d.i.c.k's oldest friend. He put us up after our house got knocked in."

"Yes, indeed. Eddie is the salt of the earth. I loved my cousin Lydia, but I'm afraid one of her few faults was that she was unfair to Eddie." It took May a second to realize he was talking about Miss Perry. Another second to realize he'd heard what she said about Eddie but that he didn't understand it. He swept on. "Of course, to her credit Lydia held d.i.c.k in high regard, and Charlie and Tom were great favorites of hers, too. She was a model of how fortunate people help out ..."

May heard the unspoken "those less fortunate." That bothered her. But there always seemed to be two things to be bothered about in every breath this man took in and let out. The second thing this time was that in his hearty speechifying voice he was talking about the biggest things in her life. It was like being hugged by someone you didn't know.

"I'm sure you've got things to do, so I won't keep you. I'm glad we had this talk. Oh. I'll be sending over a couple of guest pa.s.ses to Sawtooth. They're good for everything, including Rose's play. I know you saw it at the school, but this promises to be even better, something all of us South County folks will be proud of. Best to d.i.c.k when he comes in. I'm glad we had this little chat."

What on earth?

The call had made her so nervous she had a shaky time getting Rose's uniform onto the hanger. She'd said h.e.l.lo to Sally now and then, but she didn't believe she and Jack Aldrich had said ten words to each other in as many years.

She drank a gla.s.s of water and was able to iron the maid's cap with its two long ribbons. She called Phoebe, got the answering machine at the office. Mary Scanlon was likely over in the Sawtooth kitchen, not a good time to bother her.

She put the cap in a paper bag, punched a hole in the bottom so the ribbons hung free, and taped the bag to the hanger. She'd just talked to Elsie on the phone about Rose's costume, and that made it almost natural to call her.

Elsie's voice was a little odd, but there was no going back. "I've just had a phone call from your brother-in-law. I don't want to be unfriendly to him-"

"What's Jack up to now?"

"He was pleasant enough, but I have to say it was out of the blue. It made me a little nervous. He said how we were neighbors and how he was doing things for Rose and for Tom-"

"And then he wanted something."

"Yes. He said just a little eas.e.m.e.nt."

"Look, May. You don't have to do anything; you certainly don't have to do anything just because Jack wants it. You remember those Just So Stories? Miss Perry read them to Charlie and Tom. There's one about a camel who asks if he can just put his nose in the tent-it's a cold desert night-and the guy in the tent finally says, 'Okay, just your nose,' but before you know it the camel's inside, the whole hump and hooves, and the guy's out. So you're right to be nervous, especially if Jack's sounding extra-nice and jolly. I don't want to alarm you, but I know Jack. He's got his eye on Tory Hazard's house; he's got his eye on your house. It might start with an eas.e.m.e.nt. You're on the only piece of land between Sawtooth and the wildlife sanctuary, and he'd dearly love to have a nature trail right through to it, so be careful if he starts talking about letting people from Sawtooth make a little path. It'll get bigger. Jack'll talk about community, he'll talk about nature, but he's really only for Sawtooth. He's Sawtooth, and Sawtooth is him."

May was alarmed. She'd thought of Jack Aldrich as a phantom neighbor, a ghost that made itself known by producing cottages, tennis courts, and docks. Now he condensed into a sharper picture, a real man in a suit who talked to her as if he knew her better than she knew him.

Elsie said, "I've warned him off once about your place. If it comes to anything, I think Sally would be upset, and he's reached that age when he doesn't want trouble at home. And now that I think of it, Rose has come into his worldview-well, this little piece of the world-and she can be fierce these days. And I don't mind taking him on, either. I'll certainly keep an eye on him. Anyway, I'm glad you called. And thanks again for taking care of Rose's costume."

May couldn't remember if she'd thanked Elsie. She found herself out the back door halfway to the wharf, staring at the creek. That didn't surprise her. She occasionally thought she was still in the kitchen and found herself in a different room, having forgotten what she was looking for. What surprised her was that in the same way that her notion of Jack Aldrich had suddenly condensed into a person, her notion of Elsie was changing. She'd called Elsie almost by accident, but now that she had, now that she'd called purely for herself, she saw Elsie all of a sudden and awful clear. It was like the time when she went wading for quahogs with Charlie. They were waist-deep near the mouth of the creek, feeling with their toes. Charlie gave her a face mask. The bottom jumped up at her, but in the squeezed-up s.p.a.ce there was a bit of wrack fluttering in the current, specks of silt streaming past it so clear you saw each one and how one was deeper than another even though they were just a hairsbreadth apart. It was a world of life down there. She didn't want to see all that each time she went feeling for quahogs with her toes, but there it was. And there was Elsie talking on the phone, talking fast that way she had, going off one way and back another, right there in front of you with all that energy running through her.

May saw how d.i.c.k would have wanted to touch her. She saw this without pain.

chapter fifty-six.

Mary woke up, closed her eyes again. She pulled the sheet up over her face, decided she didn't have a headache, just a terrible thirst. She said, "I wonder if you'd get me a gla.s.s of water," which meant she knew she was in bed with the white-haired baritone. Nothing wrong with that. And when he brought her a gla.s.s of water and said, "Now, where can we get a really good breakfast?" she thought that was just the right thing to say. It only bothered her that it took her a moment to remember his name. Ah, there it was-he went by his initials-JB, JB Callahan.

The other thing that bothered her (once she'd drunk some water and made her way to the bathroom wrapped in the top sheet) was that the two of them were in the guest room of the Perryville School. JB didn't seem anything but happy, and told her she looked like a Roman G.o.ddess. She pulled back the blinds and saw, just outside the door, her pickup covered with dewdrops. The dew was a good sign in that it meant it was still early enough to have that really good breakfast. It was a bad sign in that it would be clear to anyone at all that the truck had been there for the night without giving itself so much as a shake. Who knew how many of the kids were Sawtooth brats who would have seen her truck coming or going round the back of the Wedding Cake with a load of groceries? She didn't want to make a fuss, so she was thinking of the least fussy way to bring up the problem as they got dressed. He was humming the tune to "Down by the Salley Gardens," another good omen. She pulled back the blinds again. A bunch of kids sauntered across a patch of lawn, too far away for her to see their faces. Oh, dear G.o.d, and what if Rose was wandering around? Hadn't her last words been "I'll sleep on the floor"?

Apparently her peeking past the blinds made enough of a fuss. He said, "Okay. You got your keys? Let me know when the coast is clear."

"It's just that Rose spent the night in the dorm. But let's just go-she'd recognize my truck, anyway."

"What kind of a school is this? Don't they have morning prayers? We could go back to bed until they're all in the chapel. Or until they're all in cla.s.s."

"It's Sat.u.r.day. I don't know what they do on Sat.u.r.day."

When she started the engine she realized she had no idea how she'd got through the maze of buildings the night before. She came round a corner and had to stop for a line of students-a line stretching across the narrow road onto a porch and then into what must be the dining hall. The students made way for her to roll through. She was concentrating on the road but caught the motion of JB waving his hand.

There were still a lot of dewdrops clinging to the hood. They'd slid a few inches, leaving what looked like the traces of a herd of snails.

"Is Rose your niece? Some sort of relative?"

"Was she there?"

"I'm afraid so. You came by just now to show me around. That's our story, and we'll stick to it. Honi soit qui mal y pense."

"And what might all that French mean?"

"f.u.c.k 'em if they can't take a joke."

"You're pretty bouncy for this early in the morning."

"Well, I had a pretty good night."

"Is that all?"

"A sweet, splendid night. You have lovely shoulders. Skin like gardenia petals. What are you doing tonight?"

"Hard at work."

"Then what about tomorrow morning?"

"The famous Sawtooth Sunday brunch."

"Then Sunday afternoon?"

"We'll see. But right now do you really want a good breakfast? Would you rather have an omelet or pancakes and sausage? Do you like your omelet a bit runny?"

"I hope this means we're going to your house."

"It does." He made a pleased noise in his throat. She said, "Not a house, just a small apartment."

He leaned over, slid the hem of her dress an inch higher, and kissed her knee. "There's my big knee," she said. "I've often wished my knees weren't so big."

"No. Just right for your long legs. I like walking beside your long legs. I can't wait till we go swimming so I can see your long legs waving in the water."

All right. Let him keep talking himself into it. He said, "How small an apartment?"

"One bedroom." That would be the reason he was asking-the possibility of a roommate. "I haven't been there all that long. I used to share a house with Rose's mother and Rose. Since Rose was a baby, in fact. For one reason and another, I'm on my own for a bit."

There was a pause while he absorbed this. It was a pause during which she could have said, "And yourself?" She put off any questions that might tip a weight onto the rest of the morning.

chapter fifty-seven.

After Elsie dropped Deirdre off in Narragansett she drove back to the Perryville School. In the parking lot she had second thoughts. If she went tramping around the grounds looking for Rose, Rose would be embarra.s.sed. "Oh my G.o.d-there's my mom." Find a student and send her? A teacher? "Your mother's out in the parking lot. She wants to see you." Just as bad.

Elsie thought she'd write a note and leave it in Rose's mailbox. Or did only boarders have mailboxes? She dimly remembered day students having separate message boxes. And the stigma. "Yes, he's cute, but he's a day student." When Elsie had been mad at Rose she'd thought other kids' giving her a hard time was just what Rose needed. Now that Elsie's remorse peeled her to the quick, she felt the sting of every embarra.s.sment she might inflict, had inflicted.

She saw kids walking past Main to the dining room. She slid down in her seat. Easy to imagine their talk: "Who's that woman sitting in her car, that really old Volvo? I think it's Rose's mom." "No, Rose's mom and dad drive a pickup. He's like some kind of fisherman; you can smell fish in the truck." "Don't you know about Rose?"

Elsie said out loud, "I'm sorry, Rose." She peered over the dashboard. Everyone at lunch. She found a ballpoint, tore off the blank corner of a map, and started writing. The pen went dry. She found a pencil in the glove compartment, its point broken. She had a knife; she always had a knife. "Hey, did you know Rose's mom carries a knife? A humungous knife." "That's nothing, she used to carry a pistol." "She should've had a shotgun-you know, to get Rose's dad to marry her." Teenage girls: every oddity a deformity, every deformity an anguish to Rose.

Okay. Enough. Just write the note. She'd give it to a secretary in Main before lunch was out.

Her first draft on the piece of map was a mess. She rummaged through the debris under her feet and found an old electric-bill envelope. When she put it up on the dashboard to write she saw the white-haired baritone walking into the parking lot from the road. She tried to remember his name from the program. She got out and waved, said, "Excuse me, you're in the play, you're Rose's father in the play." She sounded like an idiot, but then the man looked odd himself, looked like he'd slept in his suit and hadn't noticed it yet.

He said, "Yes," as if he had to think about it.

"Yes," Elsie said. "You could do me a big favor. I'm Rose's mother. You'll see Rose before the play, right?"

"You're Rose's mother ..."

"Yes."