Blue Moon (32 page)

“He’ll never do it,” Billy said, partly to comfort her and partly out of his own disbelief.

“Willis thinks he might.”

It was too bizarre to fathom, the possibility of Keating selling the wharf. Guiltily, Billy wondered if maybe he, by leaving the Keating fleet for his own boat, had somehow precipitated this. Billy held Cass tight.

“Maybe nothing will come of it,” she said after a minute. “I can drive myself crazy, thinking about it. Condos? On our wharf! Dad’s got it all figured out.”

Billy shook his head. “We can’t blame it on senility—he’s not there yet.”

“At first, I wanted to blame it on Willis. But I think it’s actually all Dad’s idea.” She paused, calming herself down. “Probably nothing will come of it. I mean, he does have a tendency to … make grand gestures. He can’t just retire, like a normal old guy. He has to erase every trace of himself from the waterfront.”

Billy laughed. “Right, that’s probably it. Your father
is
the waterfront.”

“It’s been really hard, not having you to talk to about it.”

“I know what that’s like,” Billy said. Away for weeks at a time, he would sometimes feel so lonely for Cass, he’d think he couldn’t stand it.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she said.

Billy knew this was the time to tell her that he wouldn’t be here for long, that he planned to leave tomorrow for a long trip, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Not right now, not when she needed his comfort. Instead, he held her, touching her face, listening to her tell him how much she needed him.

Cass let Billy sleep late. She fixed hot cereal for the kids, got T.J. and Belinda out the door, and helped Josie dress herself. Maybe later she and Billy could drive down to the wharf, have a talk with her father. But right now, she had her mind on something else. She moved quietly, not wanting to awaken Billy. She had an ulterior motive: Zach was coming, and she didn’t want Billy to leave before he arrived.

When Zach pulled up, Cass met him at the door. “Hey, is that your husband’s truck?” he asked, pointing.

“Yes,” Cass said.

“You know, I’ve never met him,” Zach said.

“This’ll be your chance.”

Cass watched Zach and Josie sign “hello” to each other. The three of them sat at the kitchen table. While Cass sipped coffee and watched, Zach and Josie worked on the alphabet. Within twenty minutes, she heard Billy’s footsteps upstairs.

“Whew,” he said. “Thanks for letting me sleep.” He entered the kitchen, tucking his shirt into his jeans.

“Billy, this is Zach,” Cass said.

Billy looked startled, but he put out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Medieros,” Zach said.

“Daddy!” Josie squealed, reaching up so Billy would bend over to kiss her.

“Morning, Josie,” Billy said. Josie couldn’t hear him, and she couldn’t see his lips, which were kissing the top of her head. Cass watched Zach, to see how he would react. Funny, she thought, how Zach felt like an ally now. Zach understood deaf children, and Billy did not. Cass hoped that somehow Zach could help.

“What do we have here?” Billy asked, shuffling the flashcards. “ABC’s.”

Josie signed, “A-B-C-D-E-F …” But Billy turned away, to pour a cup of coffee, before she got to “G.” Cass watched Josie’s face fall. Josie pouted, her lower lip sticking out.

“Zach, can I get you some coffee?” Billy asked.

“No thanks.”

“Billy,” Cass said, “Josie was showing you her ABC’s.”

“Oh, sorry,” Billy said. He reddened slightly, glancing at Zach. “I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to read sign language.”

“That’s understandable,” Zach said.

“I sit in every day,” Cass said, “and Josie’s way ahead of me.” She wanted to reassure Billy, but she could tell by his expression that he still felt uncomfortable.

“We’re never going to catch up,” Billy said, a little sharply. “How are we going to know what she’s saying?”

“All parents of deaf kids worry about that,” Zach said. “At North Point they have support groups, seminars, classes to help you deal with it. They’ll tell you about it when you visit.”

“Visit?” Billy asked, looking confused.

“We have an appointment at North Point,” Cass said. “Just to check the place out.”

“When?”

“The Monday before Thanksgiving. A week from today.”

“I won’t be back by then,” he said. “I’ll be fishing.”

“When are you leaving?” Cass asked, getting that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Billy stared into his coffee, stirring it slowly. “This afternoon,” he said.

A tense silence fell over the table. Sensing it, Josie stopped signing. She looked from her mother to her father.

“Come on, Josie,” Zach said. “Let’s go to our classroom.” He meant the sun porch, where he and Josie did most of their work.

“They’re mad,” Josie said, following him reluctantly.

“I didn’t tell you last night,” Billy said to Cass, “because you seemed so upset about your father.”

“Shit, Billy,” Cass said. A wave of disappointment washed over her. She realized how much she had been counting on him—to help her know how serious her father was, to talk to Jimmy himself, to visit North Point with her.

“I have four guys showing up this afternoon,” Billy said regretfully, as if he expected her to believe he was going out strictly for the well-being of four fishermen.

“You’re the skipper,” Cass said. “Send them home.”

“They’re counting on this trip, to get their cuts. With the holidays coming …”

“What about me? Can’t I count on you?”

Billy gave her a long, serious stare. “You’re not being fair. This is what I do for a living.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she said. “I know it’s unreasonable, but it’s how I feel. I’ve been doing too much alone for too long. I don’t want to visit North Point without you.”

“You can reschedule the appointment.”

Something about his tone made Cass look at him more carefully. “What?” she asked.

“This North Point place is a lousy idea,” he said. “I’ve told you all along—that signing business will isolate her.”

“She can’t hear, Billy. That’s what isolates her.”

“She has a loving family, she’s healthy. Why do you want to shut her off in a place like that?”

“She’s not going to live there! And how do you know what it’s like? ‘A place like that.’ Like what?”

“They’ll cut her off, Cass. She’ll be totally separate from us. She doesn’t need that.”

“You’re not here enough to know what she needs,” Cass said, suddenly overcome by a red fury.

Billy walked to the sink, sloshed water in his coffee cup, left it on the drainboard. He turned toward Cass, his back against the sink. “Are we going to do this now? Have a big fight when I have to leave for ten days?”

Cass took a deep breath, then shook her head.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” he conceded.

She could see the confusion in his eyes. The whole thing was painful, and nothing about whether to enroll Josie in North Point seemed clear-cut.

“Shit,” Billy said. “Now I wish I hadn’t told the crew we were going out.”

Cass tried to smile. “At least admit you’re dying to go. I know you, Billy. You can’t wait to go fishing in your new boat.” A pause. “I don’t even blame you,” she said reluctantly.

“You don’t?”

“Not really.”

“Come here,” he said, holding out his arms.

She leaned into his body, closing her eyes to make the time stretch out. A ten-day trip, coming right after four days out. Billy had been away for longer. She felt like being sarcastic, asking if he planned to make an appearance on Thanksgiving. But she held back. Billy hugged her, swaying slightly, saying nothing. She had the feeling that anything she said would be dangerous right now, and she’d have ten long days to regret it.

Late Tuesday morning, right after her hair appointment, Mary Keating stopped at the warehouse, to meet Jimmy for lunch. She said hello to everyone working in the tank room.

“Jim took the truck down to Old Lyme,” Jack Doherty called.

“Standing me up, is he?” Mary said, pretending to be angry. She loved ribbing the guys.

“No, just delivering fish to the Inn. He said he’d be back by noon.”

“Well, he’d better be. I’ll just wait up in the office,” Mary said. Climbing the steep wooden stairs, she paused twice, to catch her breath. One of these days, she was going to quit smoking. Inside the office she found Cass hard at work, filling orders.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Mary said.

“Hi, Mom,” Cass said. She cleared a stack of magazines off the chair beside her, and Mary sat down. “Your hair looks nice.”

“She permed it too tight,” Mary said, instinctively touching her hair. Nancy, her regular hairdresser, was out on maternity leave, and the new girl had left the solution on too long.

“Don’t worry, Mom. It’s really pretty.”

Mary smiled, almost believing her. “Where’s the little one?”

“Zach took her on a field trip,” Cass said. ‘To the science museum.”

“Oh, what fun,” Mary said. She hadn’t met Zach, but she knew he was doing wonders for Josie. Josie seemed less frustrated, less irritable and angry. And Mary could hardly contain her relief that
Cass was finally considering North Point. Mary had heard such fine things about the place. And it would take some of the load off Cass.

“Mom,” Cass said, wheeling her chair around to face Mary head-on. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Oh. You mean about your father.” Mary sighed. She snapped open her purse to find her cigarettes. This was never easy, explaining Jim to his own daughters. The man was a bundle of contradictions: simultaneously generous and miserly, outgoing and suspicious.

“Is he really going ahead? With his big plan?”

“He says so.”

Cass stared, unblinking. “Is he serious?”

Mary struggled, trying to find the best answer. She knew, had always known, how to read Jim. Always full of pomp and circumstance, he was occasionally full of wind. But explaining that to Cass, regardless of the fact that she had children of her own, felt wrong to Mary. She believed that a daughter, no matter what her age, needed to respect her father.

“Is he?” Cass pressed.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Mary said. Cass searched her eyes. Very slightly, Cass’s shoulders relaxed.

“Is he scared of retiring?”

“Terrified,” Mary said, exhaling smoke. She felt lucky to have such a perceptive daughter.

“Why can’t he just go on the way he has? Spending a few hours here when he feels like it? It’s not as if …”

Mary imagined Cass was going to say that it wasn’t as if Jim ran the place anymore, and she felt glad Cass had stopped herself. “You know your father,” Mary said. “He likes to do things in a big way. He’ll go out with a bang.”

“Why don’t we just throw him a great party, all his friends and a Dixieland band?” Cass asked. “He can pretend to retire, and we can keep the wharf.”

“Everyone wants to feel needed,” Mary said. She knew this better than anyone. All through their marriage, Jim would forge ahead, damn the torpedoes, never asking Mary for her advice or opinion. He was the great independent, running the whole show; women
fell in love with him and business competitors hated him. Often Mary had wondered whether he needed her at all, whether he would miss her if she were gone.

Ashamed to admit it, she felt strangely grateful to hear Jim worrying about retiring. Last night, in the middle of a bad dream, he had cried out. Mary had shaken him awake, as she always did. But this time Jim had turned to her. He’d slipped his arms around her, pulled her close, and, after a while, fallen back to sleep without moving away.

“Your father will be fine,” Mary said, in response to a question Cass hadn’t asked.

“He can’t sell this place,” Cass said. “There’s too much of him in it.”

Mary nodded. She had to agree with that.

T.J. had always expected a breakup to be eventful. He’d see girls in high school crying with their friends, guys punching out their own lockers. But this breakup seemed to happen without him. Alison just stopped sitting with him on the bus. Ever since he’d called her house that night, she wouldn’t talk to him. Now when he’d call, the answering machine or her mother would pick up. Either way, T.J. would get the same message: Alison’s not home. He thought he was going crazy.

She moved everywhere surrounded by her friends, like a squadron of strawberry-scented blond bodyguards. T.J. would sit in his usual bus seat, staring at the back of her head. She moved as if nothing were wrong, as if she had nothing on her mind but getting to school. Sometimes she wouldn’t be on the bus at all, and he’d know she was getting a ride with someone who had a license.

Four days after she stopped talking to him, he waited near her locker until she came down the hall alone. He knew her schedule; she had just come from biology lab, and now she had a free period.

“Hi,” he said.

“Oh, hi,” she said, as if he were just any kid. It killed him that she could look so normal when he felt like he was dying.

“So, what’s up?”

“The sky, the moon, the ceiling …” She giggled.

“You seem happy,” he said.

“I’m okay. You?” She turned toward him, her arms full of books, and suddenly T.J. thought he was going to lose it. Just the way she said, “You?” As if she couldn’t care less, just wanted to be polite so he’d leave faster.

“Not so good,” he said.

“Well, you’d better get over that. We have exams this week. And Thanksgiving next Thursday.”

“What happened?” T.J. asked in a voice so low he didn’t know if she could hear him.

She tossed her head, impatient. “I just think we should break up.”

“I figured that.”

She stood there, the silence between them growing.

“Because of Martin, right?” T.J. asked.

She shrugged. “Not only.”

“Then what?”

For a second, T.J. could swear she had a tear in her eye. This was the Alison he loved, whose feelings were all over her face, making her voice quaver, her hands tremble. The Alison from a broken family, with parents who didn’t understand her or love her enough; the Alison that only T.J. could comfort.