Compass Rose (44 page)

She pulled herself closer to him. “I had to come see you. I was thinking about you all day. I think about you a lot; this time I couldn’t stop.” She touched his back. “Lie down again. Just for a bit.” He lay on his back, looked straight up. She said, “Don’t worry, everything’s all right.”

“Funny you say that. I have this dream every so often. Last thing in it is somebody saying that. A woman’s voice.”

“Maybe it’s me.”

Dick laughed. Elsie hit him on the shoulder. He said, “You can’t be everything. Anyway, this was a voice I don’t know. Maybe just a thought. The idea of the place, some place I’ve never been. Looked like pictures I’ve seen of fjords. I was in a skiff. I wasn’t rowing, I was standing in the stern looking forward, but she was somehow moving up the fjord. The water was calm. The hills were steep, covered with
trees, came right down to the water. There was this breath of wind; maybe that moved the boat. Maybe the voice was mixed up with the wind.” He let out a long breath. “Mostly when I dream, something’s wrong and I got to fix it. But every so often I get this calm dream.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You want me to tell you what
I
think this dream’s about?”

“I guess you’re going to.”

“It doesn’t exactly defy interpretation. Your boat sticking out in front of you, sliding into this lush fjord.”

Dick held his hand up, thumb and forefinger apart, maybe measuring the distance between two stars. He said, “So you figure you get to be the fjord. I was figuring it was just me finally getting to take a vacation.”

“No reason it can’t be both.”

Dick let his hand fall. “Trouble is, you’re not some far-off place I’ve never been to. You’re here. You’re part of here; we’re part of here.”

“Yes, I am,” she said. “We are.” She held his shoulder and kissed him. She let herself roll onto her back. “I’ve thought that all along. The way we know things. The way you know the sea, the way I know the woods, the way we both know the salt marsh. The way we live in the natural world. Our sense of—”

“That’s not what I was getting at. Okay, we both get out in what you call the natural world, but we live in South County. It isn’t some big city, everyone coming and going, everything up in the air.” Dick blew out a breath. “Forget the big city. What the hell do I know about that? I know the people here; we both know the people here. We’re in Eddie’s backyard.”

“Eddie. I wouldn’t worry—”

“No. It’s not just Eddie.”

Elsie said, “All right, then. May.”

“I won’t say anything about May. But it’s something else. I haven’t got to it yet.” He closed his eyes, took a breath. “It’s Rose. I’m kind of an awkward father, anyway. May and Rose get along great, Mary Scanlon and Rose get along great, you and Rose … I hear you scrap some, desn’t mean you don’t love each other.” Dick touched
her head, slid his fingers through her hair so gently she was surprised when he said, “But I don’t think any of you women spend a minute thinking about Rose and me.”

“Of course we do,” Elsie said. “At least I do.”

Dick said, “You don’t need to jump. Far as I’m concerned, it’s just as well. Suits Rose and me fine. After I made that miscue, told her she’d get thin if she took up rowing … Rose came around. Not right away. Said she wanted me to go out in her skiff with her, teach her stuff. We went out a lot, still do often enough. We don’t make a secret of it. Just that nobody notices.”

“Well, I’m glad. I want things to be good between you and Rose.”

“Now you show up and it’s like I’m being tumbled by a wave. I’m not saying I haven’t thought about it. I have. I do. And okay, right now we’re drifting in that fjord, and you’re saying, ‘Everything’s all right.’ But in just a bit we’re going to get in my truck and I’m going to drop you at the bottom of your driveway because Rose might be waiting up for you.”

“Rose is doing her play. And afterward she’s staying to eat something. She won’t be back for quite a while.”

Dick shook his head. “I’m not just talking about where Rose is right now. I’m trying to say—”

“Well, yes, of course. This isn’t something Rose should have to think about. No one should have to. Just you and me.”

“I’m talking about me. When I see Rose it goes fine, but it’s not that often, so I feel kind of fragile.”

“And you think I’ll make you more fragile?” A bubble ran up her spine. Elsie found herself sitting up. “I see. I’m one thing, then I’m another. I show up looking amazingly like the girl of your dreams but it’s just a spell and there’s a flash, and presto change-o, I’m a terrible hag, I’m turning into the worst witch of all—Rose’s mother.”

“You can joke if you want—”

“No. That’s not what I want.” She turned toward him, leaning over him. “Where do you think Rose came from?” And then she said, “I want to be the one you feel fragile about. I want you to feel so fragile you’re in awe. You should be in awe. You should be in awe of the white streak in my hair; you should be in awe of how I fell out of the sky, of how I was falling all day today.” She lay back down.

Dick didn’t say anything. She said, “We were peaceful. Just now, just before.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

Elsie was dizzy and tired. She looked up. The stars seemed to be receding in a slow eddy.

He drove her the whole way. When he turned into the driveway he said, “I guess it’ll be all right.” The house was dark. He saw her to the door but left the motor running. He said her name, but it was too dark to see his expression. He got back in his truck.

She’d made her headlong desire come true, but having seduced Dick, she’d seduced herself. She’d seduced herself into wanting more, so much more that she’d blurted out a terrible selfishness—“I want to be the one you feel fragile about.”

The taillights flickered as the overhanging brush popped back in place behind the truck. She leaned against the front door. So Dick thought Rose was an impediment. Of course, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what he was talking about. Up in May’s field she herself had wished it wasn’t Rose who said out loud where Dick would be. Elsie felt dizzy again, more than with the simple tiredness that made the stars appear to swim away and up.

J
ack buzzed the kitchen on the intercom and asked Mary to come up to his office.

He was sitting at his desk, his head propped on one hand. He got halfway to his feet and then plopped back down. He looked a mess. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair sticking out, a bit of white stubble on his face, one cheek dark red. He leaned it on his hand so heavily it squeezed one eye shut.

He said, “She called me a shit.”

Mary sat down.

“She’s never said anything like that. I don’t mean …” He waved his hand back and forth in front of his face. “Of course, in a trivial way. But she said it deliberately. With due deliberation.”

Mary had thought it might be Elsie; now she realized it must be Sally.

“She never said anything like that before. When she was angry at me about Jack Junior, she yelled and cried, and that was understandable, that was a mother’s fear. But this is all about something she doesn’t understand. I thought she was listening; she sat there as if she was listening—I grant you, it’s complex—but without any regard for what I was saying, she said, ‘You are a shit.’ ”

It crossed Mary’s mind that “due deliberation” didn’t fit with “without any regard for what I was saying,” but the man was at a loss. She shook her head and sighed. She also wondered how she came to be Jack’s confidante. If he had only her, God help him. She said, “Had she been traveling all day or anything like that?”

“No,” Jack said. “She just drove from Boston. She was perfectly calm when I showed her the drawing of the boardwalk to the nature sanctuary. She even said she was glad Eddie Wormsley got the job. It was when I turned the page and was explaining the new map … I was pointing to it and I heard her suck in her breath, and I turned and she said it. I said, ‘What?’ and she said it again.”

“And you?” Mary said. “What did you do?”

“I just stood there. She turned on her heel and went into the bedroom. I waited a suitable time, then I knocked on the door. There was no answer, so I said I thought she should come out when she was ready to … I can’t remember my exact words.”

“
Apologize?
”

“No, it was more in the manner of … I may have included the word
apologize
, but it was primarily a request that she hear me out.”

“So it’s about your getting Dick and May’s house?”

“The Pierce Creek property, yes.”

“And what did Sally say?”

“Nothing at first. And then something about how I’d finally cut her off from Elsie. That this was the one thing Elsie really cared about, and I’d done it when Elsie couldn’t reach her, I’d done it
behind her back, I’d arranged to have her leave. Of course, that’s utter nonsense. She left of her own volition. And God knows I’ve done a great deal for Elsie.”

“You said that?”

“I may have, very briefly. But I wasn’t going to argue my case through a closed door. I said I’d be back when she wasn’t hysterical. I said she could reach me here. That was yesterday. I spent the night.” He nodded at the far side of the room. There were chair cushions on the floor.

“You must be exhausted. Have you had something to eat, then?”

“No.”

“I can bring something up in no time at all.”

“No, thank you.”

He got up and began to put the cushions back on the chairs. He held the last one against his face. He wheezed three times, his body jerking a bit after each one. She thought he was smothering a sneezing fit but then thought he was crying. He gave a groan and dropped the cushion. She got up and patted his back. She said, “She’s still feeling the shock of Jack Junior. Him being pulled out of the sea. Sally was there by the radio, her and Elsie. And didn’t it turn Elsie’s hair white, and didn’t she faint dead away? And Sally was surely clutching herself just as hard at the thought of her son. It took her that way, and it took you another, and there you went making yourself feel better the only way you could think of. But you’ve tried to make amends; at least there’s May with her five acres.” Mary wondered at herself. Why was she granting this man absolution? Was she a sucker for a few moans from a great hulk of a man? She said, “Of course you shouldn’t have called her hysterical.”

She gave him another pat. He clung to her, saying, “Oh, God, Mary, you’ve got a good heart.” And there he went squeezing the breath out of her, and sure enough, there went his hand onto her bottom.

“None of that now.” She gave a good shove to his shoulder with the heel of her hand, and another for good measure.

He dropped his hands and said, “No, no, no, I didn’t mean … I’m sorry. You’re so tall, your waist is higher. Completely inadvertent.
Your goodwill. I’m grateful for your goodwill.” He pulled the cuffs of his blazer down and went back to his desk. “You’re right, we should call down for something to eat. Don’t you go; one of the girls can bring it up. What would you like? I think just a sandwich and some coffee for me. Same for you?”

“I should be getting back to the kitchen.”

“Not just yet if you don’t mind. There’s something I thought of. Won’t take long.”

He ordered his club sandwich and coffee. When he was done he said, “What I was thinking—and you can help me with this—is that my explaining everything to Sally won’t be enough. But if Sally could hear how pleased May is with her garden project, it would demonstrate that I haven’t laid waste to the community. So I thought that I’d invite all the parties involved for dinner here. Everyone who may have felt a little bit nicked but for whom in the long run I’ve done something. The whole Pierce family, Eddie Wormsley and his partner—she’s a friend of Mrs. Pierce’s. And Elsie and Rose. The show will be closed by then, so Rose is free. And Johnny Bienvenue and his new bride—I’m looking forward to getting to know her, particularly if she takes after you. And, of course, you—not just in your capacity as aunt but because you’re close to everyone involved—a matrix, as it were. And we’ll invite your friend Mr. Callahan. We’ll have a big table out on the screened porch; it’ll be like those big family celebrations Captain Teixeira has down on the town dock for his tribe. When you think of it, almost everyone is related to everyone else—there you are Elsie’s old friend and housemate and the new Mrs. Bienvenue’s aunt and practically a second mother to Rose.” He cocked his head. “Indeed, Rose. Rose is actually part of everybody’s family. Who can say no to a party for Rose? So I thought we might do it on V-J Day—we’re going to have fireworks, launch skyrockets from the beach. I’ve always liked that about Rhode Island—I believe we’re the only state that officially celebrates V-J Day. Of course, that’s not until August. The Fourth of July would do. So—fireworks, perhaps a poem from your friend, a song from you and Rose, and a general feeling of reconciliation. What do you think?”

Mary laughed.

“I see I’ve taken you by surprise,” Jack said. “But I’ve been mulling over a gesture of goodwill for some time. The effect that it will have on Sally is a fortunate addition. The sign of a good plan is that it has coincidental benefits.”

What was taking her by surprise was how quickly he reinflated himself. He was at it again, certain that what suited him would suit everyone.

“So we should think about the menu,” he said. “Of course, you’re one of the honored guests, so whatever we plan should be something you can prepare the day before. Maybe a bouillabaisse? Doesn’t that just simmer all day?”

“Speaking as the cook,” she said, “that’s easier said than done. You have to add different fish at different times. I’ll think of something.”

“I’m sure you will. Shall we plan it for the Fourth of July or V-J Day?”

“The Fourth,” she said. “If you pick V-J Day someone might think you’re celebrating dropping the atomic bomb.”

He squinted at her but opened his eyes wide at the knock on the door. He boomed, “Come in!” And then, “Ah, splendid!” as the waitress set the salver before him and lifted the lid.

D
ick told May no. But then Phoebe called May and said, “Oh, let’s go! Among other things, it’s to honor Rose.”