Maine: A Novel Part 10

aI just put a chicken into the oven for dinner later, and now Iam sitting here on the porch with my feet up. They have been absolutely killing me. Circulation, I guess. Have you seen the new adaptation of David Copperfield on PBS? I think youad really like it. Theyare airing it in five parts this week. I watched the second part last night. A woman from church told me about it, and thereas that actress with the enormous eyes, oh, whatas her name, whatas her name? Ann Marie would know it, Iall have to ask her. She was in Bleak House also. Anyway, when are you coming?a The way Alice rambled made Maggie wonder how long it had been since she had spoken to anyone. Sometimes Maggie would picture what an average day might look like for Alice, and the thought of her grandmotheras lonesomeness was like a punch in the gut. She felt happy about her decision to visit.

aIall be there tomorrow. So maybe we can watch the rest of the show together.a aOkay, well, tell Gabe Iave got a new book of sheet music from the librarya"Broadway: The Patriot Songs.a aActually, itas just going to be me,a Maggie said.

Perhaps Alice hadnat heard her, because she only responded, aI need to get to the Shop an Save before they run out of the good m.u.f.fins that he likes. And theyave got hamburger meat on sale, so we can do burgers on the grill tomorrow night if you want. Or I could do a meatloaf. Letas do that, because it might rain.a Maggie wished she didnat feel envious of the fact that Alice clearly wanted to see Gabe more than she wanted to see her. Maybe she should have said, We broke up, or Grandma, heas an a.s.shole.

Instead, all she said was aSounds good.a aWell, this must be costing you a fortune,a Alice said. aA long-distance call on a cellular phone? Wead better wrap it up.a aThereas no such thing as a long-distance call from a cell phone,a Maggie said.

aWhat?a aNothing. Love you.a It felt sort of unnatural, saying I love you to Alice. But it was just as strange not to say it, so Maggie did.

As soon as they hung up, Maggie looked at her phone, in case she had somehow missed a call from Gabe.

Her fear began to swell but she pushed it down. She knew she was pregnant, but at certain moments it was still easy enough to believe that nothing was happening. Perhaps this was how those women who delivered full-term babies into McDonaldas toilets started out.

She watched TV. An hour later, in the middle of a Golden Girls episode, her heart began to thump out of nowhere. She tried to take deep breaths. When she looked down at her calves, they were covered in red splotches.

Maggie put her head between her legsa"wasnat that something people did?

It didnat seem to help. A moment later, she sat up straight and called her mother. She couldnat keep the secret any longer. This child was literally making her sick. (Could you possibly be allergic to your own fetus? No, that was ridiculous.) Kathleen would know what to do.

Maggie spoke to her mother at least once a day, but now that there was actually something important to say, she feared it.

It would never have dawned on her to call her father, even though he was in the same time zone. She talked to him every couple of weeks, but only about the most ba.n.a.l topics: how the Red Sox were faring, what he thought of the latest season of Law & Order, whether her super had properly installed the carbon monoxide detector. He had married his longtime girlfriend, Irene, the previous year and asked Chris to be his best man. Maggie had felt so sad for her younger brother that this well-meaning but emotionally tone-deaf man was his one and only father, though of course he was her only father too. He and Irene were heavy drinkers, just as he and Kathleen had once beena"they were fun and boisterous much of the time, but the flip side was that they had loud, drunken arguments in front of other people, and did G.o.d only knows what when no one was looking. Maggie prayed her father had had the good sense to get a vasectomy.

After Maggie dialed her number, Kathleen answered the phone sounding m.u.f.fled.

aWeare out in the barn up to our elbows in s.h.i.+t,a she said happily. aYou okay?a aIam freaking out,a Maggie said. aI really need to talk.a aOkay,a Kathleen said. aLet me go into the yard. Hold on.a There were a few banging sounds and her mother said, aOh Jesus, can we get rid of some of this?a Then Kathleen came back clearer. aWhatas wrong?a aI have these red splotches all over my legs, and I canat breathe too well.a aLike big cl.u.s.ters of splotches or more like bug bites?a aCl.u.s.ters.a aAre they red or brown?a aRed.a aSounds like hives,a Kathleen said calmly. aYou never get those.a aI know. Iam freaking out. I canat breathe.a aCalm down. I think you might be having a panic attack. You need to take some Saint-Johnas-wort. And nettle is a great herbal antihistamine. Same as I gave you for your pollen allergy. And take some deep breaths, sweetheart. Thatas the most important part.a aI donat have that stuff,a Maggie said.

aYes, you do. I left a bunch of things under your sink last time I was in town.a Maggie had thrown it all out after a bottle of sandalwood oil leaked onto everything else, leaving a sickly sweet odor behind in her bathroom for weeks.

aWould a Benadryl work?a she asked now, looking in the medicine cabinet to see what she had.

aSure,a Kathleen said. aBut get that other stuff I mentioned too. So, what happened? What has you so freaked out?a aI have to tell you something pretty huge,a Maggie said. aBut first, Gabe and I had a big fight. He told me he doesnat want to live together. I think we may have broken up for real.a aOh, honey, Iam sorry. Listen, itas for the best.a Kathleen spoke quickly, barely pausing between words, as if she were speed-reading from some script on helping the brokenhearted. aI know it doesnat seem that way now, but trust me. The universe works in mysterious ways.a Maggie felt sick at this casual comment. She still wanted him to be right for her, wanted Kathleen to say something else, though she knew her mother had never liked Gabe.

Despite her motheras complaints about Alice, they were shockingly similar in certain ways. They both prided themselves on telling the absolute truth as they saw it, even if it hurt.

aWhat did you want to tell me?a Kathleen asked.

Maggie leaned against the counter. She couldnat shake the feeling that Kathleen was rus.h.i.+ng to get her off the phone. Why had she a.s.sumed that it would be smart to tell her mother? Kathleen would likely go ballistic when she heard the news, telling Maggie that she had ruined her life. She wasnat going to start sterilizing bottles and knitting booties anytime soon.

aI wanted to tell you that Iam going to Maine anyway, without him.a aInteresting,a Kathleen said. aWhy?a aI donat know, I thought it might be good for me, and Iave taken the time off work.a aRun straight into the nurturing bosom of your grandmother,a Kathleen said.

aYeah, right,a Maggie said. aWell, I would go see my mother but sheas up to her elbows in s.h.i.+t.a aYou know thereas always room for you here,a Kathleen said, but she didnat press the matter.

aI miss you,a Maggie said.

aI miss you too. Youare about the only thing I miss from back there. How are the hives?a Maggie looked down. aOn one side theyare gone, and on the other side theyare fading. That was fast.a aHives are weird like that.a aHow are you able to diagnose over the phone?a Maggie asked. aWho taught you?a aNo one taught me, Iam just a mother,a Kathleen said. aYouall be the same way someday.a That was Maggieas chance to tell her, but her mouth felt dry; she couldnat form the words.

aGo lie down for a bit, and then maybe take a long walk on the Promenade,a Kathleen said. aBe very kind to yourself, okay? Call me anytime today if you need to. And let me know once you get to Maine tomorrow.a aI will.a aAnd give my best to Malice.a aMoma"a aSorry. Alice.a That afternoon, Maggie was lying on the couch when she heard a commotion in the hallway. She pictured Gabe climbing the steps, suitcase in hand. She got up quickly and looked through the peephole.

Her neighbor Rhiannon was lugging a bookcase up the stairs. She looked amazing in her grubby T-s.h.i.+rt and shorts. She probably hadnat even showered. Her toned upper arms were straight out of a magazine photograph. Maggie made a mental note about bicep exercises.

Despite her desire to get back into bed, she poked her head out.

aNeed some help?a aCan you get the door?a Rhiannon asked. aItas unlocked.a Maggie left her own door ajar and pushed Rhiannonas forward. The apartment was laid out exactly like her own, but instead of hand-me-down china from her aunt Clare and the stained sofa and love seat on long-term loan from her mother, here there were beautiful grown-up pieces of furniture and a row of elegant handblown gla.s.s vases on the windowsill. Lined up on the bathroom sink and tub were various containers in different shapes and sizes: a purple pot of lemon-scented cream, a slim vial of coconut oil, honey-almond sugar scrub packed in a mason jar, and eye pads infused with coffee-bean extract. There were lotions made specifically for knees, hands, cuticles, feet, throat, eyelids. Maggie wondered how many of them Rhiannon actually used, and whether they could possibly play any role in her beauty, which seemed predetermined, unchangeable.

At the moment, Maggieas shower contained half a bar of soap with a hair stuck to it, whichever shampoo had been on sale at Duane Reade, and the matching conditioner, with the lid popped off so she could shove her fingers inside and scoop out the last remaining drop, instead of walking four blocks to the drugstore to buy more.

aI found this on the street. Isnat it gorgeous?a Rhiannon said, shoving the weathered wooden bookcase against the wall of her little foyer, where it suddenly looked as if it had always resided. aIt was about to get ruined by the rain.a aItas great,a Maggie said.

aHow about a cup of tea?a Rhiannon asked.

Maggie smiled. aNo thanks.a aA whiskey?a aHa, no. Okay, Iall take an herbal tea.a Rhiannon went to the kitchen and said over her shoulder, aAny developments on the Gabe front?a Maggie had told her the story months agoa"that they were in love, but they could never seem to stop arguing; that Gabe had a tendency to lie. Rhiannon was less judgmental than most of Maggieas friends, perhaps because of what she herself had been through.

aNo word from him,a Maggie said.

aWhat happened?a aHe said he doesnat want to move in together after all.a Rhiannon popped her head out of the kitchen. aHe what?a Maggie nodded. Suddenly, she began to ramble, her words growing faster as she went, gaining momentum: aYes. And we were supposed to be going to Maine today, but now I have to go by myself tomorrow and Iam scared of what thatas going to be like, because my sort of crazy grandmother will be there, and he hasnat called me and I am obsessively checking my cell, because I need this to work out.a She felt herself unable to stop talking. She realized she was finally going to say it, and to someone she hardly knew: aI need him to come around. Because I love him. I really do. And thereas another thing.a Oh G.o.d, here she went. aIam pregnant.a Rhiannon guided her to the couch and they both sat. Hives crept down Maggieas armsa"red, itchy, puffed-up welts that hadnat been there three seconds earlier but looked as though they would stay forever. Was this physical a.s.sault on her extremities really necessary, on top of everything else?

aWhy do you say that?a Rhiannon asked. aIs your period late?a aItas more than that. I already took a home test.a aThose can be wrong,a Rhiannon said hopefully.

aAnd I went to the doctor for a blood test.a aOh. Well, what does Gabe say?a She paused, taking in Maggieas expression. Then she said, aHe doesnat know.a aI was waiting for the right time to tell him. I thought once we went up to the beach in Maine it would be easier, anda"itas a long story aa she trailed off, putting her head in her hands.

Then she began to laugh. aI canat believe I told you that. I havenat told anyone.a Rhiannon squeezed her hand, and said, aIam glad you told me. Weall figure this out, donat worry.a Maggie wished it were Kathleen sitting there. But maybe your family could never give you the perfect response, the kindest reply. Maybe their vision of you was too tied up in their hopes and fears for them to ever really see you as just you. Perhaps thatas why her mother had gone so far away in the enda"to be seen clearly, to see others that way.

aI keep breaking out in hives,a Maggie said.

aThose are the worst. I had them all through my divorce. Actually, I had them on my wedding day, too, which might have been a sign. You need Claritin. Hold on, I have some.a Rhiannon went into her bathroom, and then emerged with a little box in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.

aI also have Valium,a she said, shaking the bottle. aWant one?a aIam pretty sure Valiumas a bad idea when youare knocked up,a Maggie said.

as.h.i.+t, right. Good point. Sorry, Iam flummoxed. I want to help.a Maggie smiled. aYouare sweet.a aForget sweet. I owe you one.a aWhat for?a aYou really saved me the day of my divorce, Maggie. Do you even know that? If we hadnat gone to dinner that night, I donat know what would have happened to me. I donat have many friends here.a Rhiannon hadnat seemed desperate that evening. They had eaten a nice meal, had a gla.s.s of wine, laughed about their lives and their ridiculous dating histories. It was hard to imagine that Maggie had done anything extraordinary for her.

aSo youare keeping it then?a Rhiannon asked.

Maggie felt a knot tighten up in her chest. All the times she had imagined being pregnant, shead never envisioned having to answer that question. But the answer came fast: aYes. Definitely.a Rhiannon nodded. aGood for you. Hey, do you want to borrow my Subaru to drive to Maine?a aYou have one?a Maggie asked.

aI never drive it,a Rhiannon said. aI just keep it around in case I need a getaway car.a aThatas okay,a Maggie said. aI donat even have a driveras license. But itas no big deal. Iall take the bus. I can sleep, get some reading done.a Rhiannon looked thoughtful. aHow long is the drive?a aFive hours.a aThatas nothing. Iall drive you there tomorrow and then turn back. Iave got cla.s.s on Wednesday afternoon.a aThatas crazy.a aNot really. Iave never seen New England. I love long car rides. And I havenat been anywhere in weeks. Iam starting to get stir-crazy.a Maggie raised an eyebrow.

aAlso, Iam thinking you could use the company,a Rhiannon said. aAnd, what could be more fun on a day off than a drive to the beach?a aReally?a Maggie said. aThat might be great if youare sure you donat mind. This is one of those moments when it hits me how moronic I am for not knowing how to drive.a aDonat worry about that. This way it will be cheaper than if you had to rent a car anyway,a Rhiannon said.

Maggie wondered if Rhiannon was picturing her as an impoverished young mother, saving pennies for the babyas formula. And was that perception so far from the truth? She was suddenly paralyzed by the thought of money: she made a mental note to inquire about freelance work, as much as she could manage in the next seven months, and to find more people who needed help with their online dating profiles. Maybe she could place an ad on Craigslist, even though the thought of being a single, pregnant matchmakera"the brains behind other peopleas awkward first datesa"made her want to throw up.

aWhat do you say?a Rhiannon asked now.

aIf youare sure itas not a pain,a she said. aWhy donat you sleep on it and we can decide tomorrow? I really donat mind taking the bus.a aNo need,a Rhiannon said. aConsider me your chauffeur.a

Kathleen.

Kathleen prepared the wooden box, laying down first a layer of damp leaves and then a layer of dirt. She began to pat the dirt so that it was even.

She thought of the advice she had given Maggie an hour earlier: nettle root, and Saint-Johnas-wort, and oh, did I mention getting rid of that horrendous Waspy jerk boyfriend once and for all? Not just waiting around, as she knew Maggie would, to see what he wanted? No, Kathleen hadnat said this last part. She knew Maggie didnat like it when she blurted out her opinions like that. Everything in due time, she told herself. Still, it was hard to watch your baby torture herself over an unworthy man. She had had to rush to get off the phone so she wouldnat say as much.

aUh, Kath, I think youave beaten that dirt down enough,a Arlo said.

She hadnat been paying attention. In her frustration, she had packed it too hard. Shead have to start over, and there were twenty-four boxes to go after this one.

aWe need a G.o.dd.a.m.n intern,a she said.

aCalm down. Maggie will be okay.a aThis isnat about Maggie,a she said, though she knew it was. Then she added, aSorry. Iam not myself today.a He shrugged. aYou canat help it if your family drives you nuts.a aMaggie doesnat drive me nuts,a she said. aThe rest of them, yes. But not Maggie.a She could not believe Gabe had broken up with her daughter the day before they were supposed to leave for vacation. Kathleen had never liked the kid. She wished Maggie would go somewhere fun with her girlfriends, or come out to California for a visit. But for some reason she wanted to go to Maine instead. It couldnat be good for her to be isolated up there with only Alice for company.

The whole idea made Kathleen nervous. She could picture her mother giving Maggie all the wrong advice (Heas great! Youare fat! Drink more!). That was the best-case scenario. Worst case, shead be cruel, and hurt Maggie, who was already hurting enough.

Kathleen wished she could be there to help. But there was nothing on earth that could get her to Maine. She a.s.sociated the place with Alice in every way. It made Kathleen remember what she wanted to forget.

When she reflected on her childhood, she thought of how Alice had had three children in her twenties, right on the heels of her sisteras gruesome death. No wonder she drank. Alice would never discuss the death, but Kathleen recognized her motheras response as a clear case of survivor guilt. Though why Alice had decided to have children when she did, Kathleen would never know. No doubt, they all would have been better off if she had waited.

Five years back, after her brother Michael died, Alice had gone into a deep depression. He was the last of her siblings. Her husband was gone and so were most of her friends, her family. Kathleen talked to Alice at lengtha"a rare moment of connection between thema"and convinced her to come along with her and Maggie to a yoga retreat in the Bahamas for New Yearas.

Kathleen had long dreamed of going on one of these immersion trips. A friend at AA had told her they were a great way to see the Caribbean on the cheap. Kathleen thought the whole excursion might be a bit too hippie dippy, even for her, but she loved the serenity that yoga brought, and on these trips, her friend had told her, you got to lie on the beach and connect with your surroundings. Each day, there were mandatory cla.s.ses and an afternoon lecture by a master swami. Kathleen read up on him and thought he was terribly impressive. He had developed the Five Points of Yoga, the most important of which was aWe become what we think.a Kathleen imagined the three of thema"Maggie, Alice, and herselfa"side by side, three generations of women absorbing power and wisdom from one another. She realized it was a mistake from the moment they arrived. The swami asked to inspect their belongings. Kathleen had expressly told her mother that there was no caffeine or alcohol allowed, and Alice had said that was fine by her. But when he unzipped her suitcase, he found two Ziplocs full of tea bags, three bottles of red wine, a huge bottle of rum, and a blender. A blender!

aWhat were you thinking?a Kathleen demanded, mortified.

aI was thinking, whatas the Bahamas without mixed drinks, thatas mostly what I was thinking,a Alice said, flas.h.i.+ng a big flirty smile at the swami, who sort of smirked in response.

aGrandma!a Maggie said, sounding amused. aYouare bad.a Alice refused to accompany them to the yoga and meditation cla.s.ses, even though Kathleen had prepaid. Instead, she walked the beach alone for hours. When Kathleen said that she could have stayed in Ma.s.sachusetts if she wanted to do that, Aliceas venom came out: aI wish I had stayed,a she snapped.

She got in trouble with the swami for smoking, anda"done with flirtation nowa"shot him the deadliest look before saying, aOh, honestly, we are paying to be here. Go ahead and send me to the princ.i.p.alas office.a Maggie chuckled at that. Apparently she too thought it was ridiculous.

That night Kathleen discovered Alice and Maggie out on the beach, sipping rum they had mixed with organic pineapple juice. They were giggling, and she felt furious at the idea of being the odd man out.

aI donat know why either of you even came,a she said. aYouare making a fool out of me in front of a man I very much respect.a Maggie got to her feet then. aOh, Mom, please donat be upset.a aIam fine,a she said sharply. aIam going to bed. Thereas a sunrise meditation in the morning, but Iall go ahead and a.s.sume you two will be too hungover to come along.a She stomped back toward the bungalows. Maggie didnat follow her.

Kathleen felt stupid now. Perhaps she had overreacted. But she worried about Maggie and Alice spending time together. As far as Kathleen was concerned, her mother was like Hannibal Lecter: youad be a fool to get too close, but sometimes her charm made it hard to resist. Kathleen herself still told Alice things she shouldnat from time to time, only to have them thrown back in her face.

When they got home from the Bahamas, Kathleen called Alice and said, aYou know, I brought you there to help you figure out a way to cope.a aI donat need help. What you people get from headshrinkers and gurus and meditation, I get from my faith,a Alice responded. aI need to focus on going to Ma.s.s more, thatas all.a aYou already go every day,a Kathleen had said.

aI go for all the Sundays youave missed in the last twenty years,a Alice replied.

Well, she had walked right into that one.

At the end of every AA meeting, before coffee, they joined hands and said the Lordas Prayer: Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name a The defiant teenager in Kathleen always rose up at that moment: these words, forever synonymous with the spicy air and somber music of the Catholic Church. They evoked countless Sunday mornings spent standing in a pew with her parents, brother, and sister; wearing a ridiculous hat on her head; glancing nervously at the Stations of the Cross, the crucifixion displayed so graphically on the walls. She didnat understand a word of the Latin Ma.s.s, though she had memorized the entire thing somewhere along the line. She stood there each week, waiting for the hour to pa.s.s, thinking of h.e.l.l and pancakes and high school boys.

Kathleenas days as a practicing Catholic were all based in fear. She spent most of her time searching for the loopholes. No s.e.x before marriage, unless you really truly intended to get married. Absolutely no drinking during Lent, except out of state.

In recent years, she had come to detest the Church. She knew one of those grown men on the news in Boston, with his head lowered, telling the tale of how some priest had forced s.e.x upon him when he was an altar boy. His name was Robert OaNeil. He had been in her cla.s.s in grade school. Kathleen pictured him as he had been thena"freckle-faced, dressed in corduroys and crocheted sweaters, a slight gap between his teeth. She seethed to think of the private h.e.l.l the poor kid was in all along. Now, he said, he was ruineda"estranged from his wife, afraid to let his own children so much as sit in his lap.

Aliceas parish had shut its doors two years back, and she had mourned that church as if it were a loved one. Kathleen felt for her, imagining what it might be like to have to let go of the community that you felt was the most essential part of you. But what about the fact that her church and dozens of others like it were in financial trouble to begin with because the archdiocese of Boston could hardly afford all the legal bills a.s.sociated with the accusations made against priests? She tried to engage her mother in a conversation about this, but Alice would not hear it. Though she lived to criticize pretty much everything else, she plain refused to see anything bad in the Catholic Church.

Until she was in her mid-twenties, Kathleen had always thought of her motheras religiosity as semia"trumped up, just another way in which Alice could pose and be dramatic. Did she really need to go to church every day, with that ridiculous white scarf covering her hair? Kathleen imagined she did it only to make her children feel guilty about their comparative lack of devotion.

But then one Easter, her uncle Timothy told her a story about the time he was home on leave from the war and bragged to Alice and the rest of their siblings about how Marlene Dietrich had performed for his squadron in Italy.

aI was the first to s.h.i.+p out,a Uncle Tim said. aThe other boys hadnat gone yet, but we knew they would soon. So I wanted to get them revved up. This was before Mary died,a he added, a rare reference to the sister they had lost. aI was going on and on about what a looker Dietrich was. She was a good person, too, you knowa"a German, but she renounced Hitler. He had all her films banned. Anyway, there I was going on and on about how s.e.xy she was, how much all the guys were falling all over one another imagining what they might do with five minutes alone with her. Iall admit, I got carried away. My brothers were egging me on. We were all crazy about Dietrich.a Kathleen tried to picture her bald old uncles as a posse of h.o.r.n.y young guys.

aSo then Alice said, aWhat do you mean? What would you do?a and then Mary said, you know, aTheyad have their way with her.a a He paused, took a sip of his drink. This was all that Kathleen had ever heard about her aunt. There were no pictures of her anywhere; no one ever told stories. She wanted more.

aAll of a sudden,a Tim continued, aAlice stormed out of the room crying.a aWhy?a aNo one knew. I thought shead like the story. She was always nuts about those old movie stars. Anyway, we ignored her. Typical drama queen Alice. But the next day she told me that shead been up praying for me all night, for me and the rest of those souls in my squadron. She said wead go to h.e.l.l for thoughts like that.a aHow old was she?a aTwenty or so? You see, she was always an innocent,a Uncle Tim said. aA flirt, but a clueless one. She pretended she never wanted to get married, but I think that was just because all of that man and wife stuff scared her. You wouldnat think it to interact with her since she can be such a pain in the a.s.s and sheas always acting so fancy, but the truth is, sheas never changed. Her whole life sheas been asking G.o.d for help, and really expecting it to come. Sheas been to Ma.s.s every morning since me and my brothers s.h.i.+pped out, as far as I know. She actually wants to be good.a It dawned on Kathleen that the church was Aliceas public forum, the place where she went and behaved herself, the place where others viewed her as she wished to be viewed. At St. Agnes over the years, Alice had organized the Sunday school cla.s.ses and the canned food drives, the fund-raisers for the retired priests and the Christmas swap meet. No one there knew what kind of cruelty she was capable of at home. They all saw her as a saint.

She actually wants to be good.

Kathleen had thought of this at her fatheras funeral, as she watched Alice with her eyes fixed on the priest, as if his words might provide an explanation, an answer. She envied her mother that level of faith, especially at that moment.

They were in Maine when he told them he was dying. It was the last time Kathleen had been there, probably the last time she ever would. The whole family had gone up for Labor Day weekend, and everyone was getting along unusually wella"no blowups or heated words or incidents of someone (usually Kathleen) storming out and checking into a motel. Ann Marie and Alice had made a big dinner of grilled steak, corn on the cob, potato salad, and tomatoes and cuc.u.mbers from the garden. Afterward, the kids stood out on the porch roasting marshmallows over the charcoal grill, like they had done when they were small.

Daniel put a hand on Kathleenas shoulder and said, aTake a walk with me?a They headed toward the beach, and she looked back at the cottage, thinking that everything seemed perfect, at least for the moment. The sun had set, and there was her whole boisterous, bizarre family outside their favorite spot in the world. Patrick and Ann Marie and Clare and Joe were drinking beers and sitting in beach chairs, while the kids stood over the coals. Alice was in one of her moods. She buzzed around them, picking up stray napkins and paper plates in a huff, but no one paid her much attention.

aAre you doing okay with the drinking?a her father asked. He asked this at almost every family gathering, even though she had been sober for fifteen years.

aYeah, thanks, Daddy.a She wondered whether he ever asked Alice that same question, but figured the answer was no. For Alice, quitting drinking hadnat really been a choice. Kathleen knew she resented Daniel for it.

aIam proud of you,a he said.

They walked toward the sh.o.r.e, and when they reached the water, he slipped out of his Top-Siders, letting the waves pool around his feet.

aItas a beautiful night,a he said, and before she could respond he added, aSuns.h.i.+ne, thereas something I need you to know.a aOkay,a she responded, thinking of other thingsa"that it was nice to be up here, that there was nowhere else on earth where you could see so many stars.

aIam dying,a he said plainly. aI have cancer.a For a moment, she thought it was just one of his stupid jokes.

aThatas not funny,a she said, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw tears there for the first time she could remember.

Her heart sped up. aYouare serious?a aI found out on Tuesday,a he said. aWell, the doctor sent me in for tests two weeks ago, and to be honest I had a feeling even then. But I hoped I was wrong. Anyway. Turns out I was correct, as usual.a He gave her a wink.

aDaddy,a she said. aWhat type is it?a aPancreatic. Same as your uncle Jack had.a Her head was swimming. aHow did this happen?a aWell, remember I told you I was having some chest pains?a aYes.a aThey started to get really bad. Iad wake up at night and the pain would be sort of all the way through to my back. Your mother thought I was having a heart attack every darn night. I thought, maybe, you know, heartburn. Anyway, Alice kept nagging me to go see Dr. Callo. He sent me in for an ultrasound, which I thought was excessive, but then he told me it was cancer. Then there was another test to determine what stage. And thatas all she wrote.a She could tell he was trying to sound cheerful, as if a light tone might soften the blow of his words.

aWhy didnat you tell me any of this?a He shrugged. aI didnat want to worry you kids.a She could swear she heard her heart thump against her ribs. aWhat now?a aNow we wait.a aWhat do you mean, we wait? Wait for what?a aThereas not much they can do for it, sweetheart. Itas spread to my lungs. Itas everywhere. Thereas almost no chance of recovery.a aWell, almost no chance is better than no chance,a she said. aYou canat just leave it. Theyare doing amazing stuff these days.a She was beginning to feel hysterical. He was usually the one to make sense of life for her.

He squeezed her shoulder. aListen to me: I have given it a lot of thought. I donat want any of thata"no hospitals, no tubes, no radiation microwave bull c.r.a.p. I just want to keep going. I feel fine, really. This is what I want.a He gestured back toward the cottage. aI want all of you together. I want to see your motheras smile as many more times as I possibly can.a aWhat does she say about all this?a Kathleen asked. aWhy hasnat she tried to talk sense into you?a aShe has,a he said. aBelieve me, sheas livid. But from now on, I want us to pretend nothingas happening, okay?a aNo, itas not okay. Are you saying thereas no chemo, no surgery that willa"a aNo. Radiation might help to shrink the tumor a bit, but not in any meaningful way. Surgeryas not an option. Iam too far gone for that. Anyway, I never believed in surgery. My father used to say that once they cut you open, youare done for. I think thereas some truth to it. Something about the air getting in.a She wondered whether he might have brain damage, if maybe this was one of those moments in life when the child was supposed to do the opposite of what her parent said. But then he continued: aKathleen, if I thought there was even a shred of hope that all that junk would make me better, Iad do it in a heartbeat. But the doctor made it very plain that it wonat. Iave known him forever. I asked him, aJim, if this were youa",a and before I had even finished the sentence, he said, aI would just try to enjoy the rest of my life to the fullest.a Fact is, if Iam lucky I could have another good year left.a With those words, Kathleen felt a black cloak wrap itself around her body, tight. She wanted to cry into his sweater as she had often done over the years when life got too hard, but she knew that she needed to be the strong one now.

aI understand if you donat want radiation,a she said softly, remembering her sponsor, Eleanor, at the enda"too weak and sick to walk, her hair falling out. aBut there are natural approaches too. Homeopathic medicine has made big strides.a He grunted. aNo thank you. I plan to start smoking cigars and eating raw hamburger rolled in salt like my mother used to. Steak tartare, thatas called. Iall pa.s.s on the chanting and all that, kiddo.a She laughed, in spite of the situation. She had given him an Irish chant CD a few years back, and he had mocked it mercilessly every chance he had gotten since.

aNot chanting,a she said. aThereas real science behind it. Iall do some reading. At the very least, it might make you feel more comfortable.a Then she did start to cry, and the tears were fat and fast.

He hugged her close. aIam going to tell your brother and sister now.a She nodded.

aThereas one last thing,a he said. aKathleen, your mother has been through h.e.l.l in her life, in all sorts of ways. I only ever wanted to make that better for her, not add to it. Iam worried about how sheall fare on her own. You, too, sweetheart. In my fantasy I picture the two of you helping each other through. Thatas how Iad like it, anyway.a It was typical of her father to be worried about Alice, even as he stood before Kathleen to say he was dying. She had a vision of the future without him in it and felt like she needed to sit down.