The Lake House (13 page)

For Aaron, living here hadn’t been the same experience. Among the other children he’d been an outcast. While everyone else attended private school and lived in Boston, Aaron resided year-round in Nagog and received a public education. Instead of coming to the cookouts on Friday nights, he celebrated Shabbat with his parents.

The fifties were a time of anti-Semitism, and though Nagog didn’t agree with the sentiments of the nation, racist jokes were common in school. Many times, Aaron became the target of the Nagog kids’ ignorance. Even though he married within Nagog, he’d never wanted to stay close.

“I wonder if that young girl is trying to buy the house,” Bill said as he moved back to the poker table. His girth pressed against his belt and pant seams as he sat.

“From what I could see through the rain, she had a pretty little caboose,” Carl said.

“Too skinny. Women should have something to hold on to,” Bill said.

“Could the two of you focus?” Daniel boomed. “We can’t allow Aaron to do this. With a girl like her around, young men will follow. There’ll be drinking and loud music.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” Joseph said.

Carl rubbed his bulbous nose. “We could make Nagog an over-fifty-five community. Wouldn’t mind seeing that girl in a bikini this summer, but that house belongs in Maryland’s family.”

“Over fifty-five won’t stop Aaron from selling it to someone outside the community. Plus, we can’t take retroactive action if she has a signed agreement,” Bill said.

“Then we take Aaron to court. We can’t let our kids think they can sell our homes and put us in care facilities. I’m not
spending my last years pasting macaroni to cardboard like a four-year-old.”

“Daniel’s right,” Carl said. “My daughter’s been talking about us moving to a happy retirement community that transitions to assisted living. I’m not spending the rest of my years being watched over by some nurse and being stuck with hundreds of old people.”

“Yeah, my kids took me on a tour of one of those places,” Bill said. “The whole damn place had pastel colors.”

“I have an idea,” Carl said.

Joseph knew the mischievous glint in Carl’s eye. Along with admiring women’s backsides, Carl had four favorite things in life: food, sports, a good cigar, and pranks. After Victoria’s father’s death, Carl’s family had bought the Rose Plastics Company. Carl added a new line of gags like whoopee cushions, fake doo-doo, and phony vomit.

Carl winked at Bill, but Joseph worried about the plan Carl had in mind.

V
ictoria and Molly sat around the folding table in Molly’s sunroom, dominoes arranged in an elaborate pattern, while Sarah and Agatha sat on the wicker couch and knitted small pink and blue baby hats. Evelyn sat across from the women in a large white wicker chair that engulfed her tiny form. Molly’s homemade brownies, cookies, and cakes lined the buffet table. Though each woman had taken a small sample of the desserts, the goodies sat untouched on their plates.

Molly tapped her domino against the table, creating noise in the silence. Victoria knew that she’d arranged this gathering in
the hope that everyone would allow history to be left in the past, but the small room was thick with words unsaid.

Evelyn Price’s eyes were wide with confusion, her white curls like a halo. In her pink turtleneck and sweater, she still looked like a little girl. Victoria gave her a small wave and Evelyn smiled just like when they were children: a big, radiant smile that spread to her pink cheeks. Then she looked out the window and stared at Maryland’s house. Her friend’s illness was another reminder that Victoria hadn’t made amends in time.

Sarah cleared her throat. She lacked only a broom and a pointy hat to complete her resemblance to the Wicked Witch of the West from
The Wizard of Oz
. Her black lace collar accentuated her pinched face, and her bun pulled her hazel eyes tight as if she’d had a face-lift. Where was the teenager who’d snuck into Victoria’s bed with a flashlight at night and told her dirty jokes? Molly had always followed the rules, whereas Sarah had been Victoria’s partner in crime as they snuck cigarettes and alcohol.

“Sarah, how’s Beatrice?” Victoria asked.

“My daughter is fine,” Sarah said as she continued to knit.

“Will she be coming around?”

“She remarried and lives in Vermont. I don’t see her that often,” Sarah said through tight rose-tinted lips.

“Oh, congratulations.”

“For what? My daughter’s breaking the Lord’s law and divorcing her first husband or for taking a new one without getting an annulment from the church?” Sarah looked at Victoria.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”

Sarah grunted and clicked her needles together.

Agatha Lowe put down her knitting and picked up a large brownie. Agatha had grown up in the community and attended
Dana Hall School with the other girls, but she had never been part of Victoria’s inner circle. She hadn’t liked playing make-believe or staging tea parties. For the most part she’d kept her nose in books and only joined the other children when forced by her mother. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that Victoria had never made her feel welcome.

Agatha hadn’t shed a tear when Victoria left—she’d celebrated. They’d never been close. When they were twelve, Agatha had auditioned for the school dance team. As captain, Victoria made certain only the most talented—and prettiest—girls made the squad. Agatha, in a black leotard and pink tights, had looked like a lumbering hippo to Victoria, whose long, graceful legs were accentuated by her own ballerina outfit. She hadn’t let Agatha make the cut.

Agatha listlessly chewed on the brownie and fingered the large brace that covered her right knee. Molly had said that she’d had three surgeries on it in the last few years. She seemed to have given up on her appearance—her hair had been cut short and lay flat against her head, her breasts hung against her belly. She’d never been a beauty queen, though in the years before her husband’s death, when Victoria visited in the summer, she’d seen Agatha motherly and soft, in bright sundresses, her auburn hair flowing over her shoulders. The gray sweat suit Agatha wore today reminded Victoria of that awkward teenager.

“I think we should take a trip,” Molly announced. “Someplace warm like the Caribbean or the Bahamas. We’ll lie on the beach and drink fruity umbrella drinks.”

“Why?” Agatha asked.

Because she’s trying to force us together,
Victoria thought,
until we either kill each other or work things out.

“We need an adventure. Clear out the winter stiffness and prepare for summer. We’ll buy new sundresses and bathing suits. It will be a fun adventure.”

“I have no interest in flying. It’s too dangerous these days with terrorism and poor plane maintenance. With all the new regulations, it’s too much of a hassle,” Sarah said. She cut the end of her yarn and placed a blue hat on the coffee table. Then she grabbed pink yarn and began a new line of stitches.

“It’s not dangerous. And life is a hassle only if you make it one,” Victoria said.

Sarah didn’t look up. “I did my traveling when I was younger. I’m content right where I am.”

What had become of this once-vibrant group?

Only a few years ago they planned vacations, sat on boards, threw parties, and attended charity functions. They wore perfume and shopped in boutiques, went to Boston for movies and the theater. Molly had told Victoria that they’d barely left Nagog this winter. If they’d let Victoria back into their lives, she had to try to shake them up, get them out and moving again.

Sarah looked out the window toward Maryland’s home. “Did you see that Aaron came to visit and he showed the house to a young woman?”

So, they were finally going to discuss the news of the day. Victoria had been in her mother’s sitting area staring out the window at the rain when she saw the little blue car pull in and watched as the young woman stepped out of the car in her stylish red raincoat and high boots. Victoria’s presence hadn’t allowed the old friends to gossip the way they would have if she hadn’t been there, but they couldn’t hold it in forever.

“I saw that girl through my window, and we don’t want her
kind here,” Sarah said. “Tommy came over to fix our step, and you know Tommy, he won’t say a harsh word about anyone, but I could tell he didn’t like her either.” Sarah put her knitting on the coffee table and paused for theatrical purposes. “I stopped and spoke to the men before I came over here and they say she’s already made an offer to buy the house.”

Molly clapped her hands together. “Maybe she’s married and wants a place to raise a family. It would be nice to have a baby around.”

“Mothers don’t drive tiny cars,” Agatha said.

Sarah’s lips puckered till lines fanned around her mouth. “I think that girl is looking for a place to party.”

Agatha nodded in agreement. “We don’t want young people living here, they have no values. My grandkids are spoiled. They party and go on extravagant vacations. They refuse to marry and settle down, and they hop from one partner to the next.” She nodded toward Victoria to emphasize the immorality.

“Well, we can’t let her move in,” Sarah said.

“It’s a young woman, not the end of the world,” Victoria said aloud before she could edit her thoughts.

The circle went silent except for the tap of Sarah’s black shoes against the hardwood floor.

“Well, it’s not like it matters to you. I doubt you’ll be here more than a few months,” Agatha said.

Molly put her hand on Victoria’s arm. “She’s here to stay.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Sarah said.

“She probably wants a new playmate now that Annabelle is gone,” Agatha said.

“Stop it!” Molly said. “You will not speak to her in such a painful way again. Do I make myself clear?”

Victoria looked at Sarah, trying to recall the young girl with whom she’d once shared her deepest secrets.

Sarah glared at Victoria, daring her to challenge her. “Every time you show up, someone gets hurt. Last time you came home, Joseph paid the price, and this time, if you push to have this young woman move in, we all will. You’ve never cared about being here, but you could at least respect that this is our home and we would like it to stay in our family.”

“What do you mean, Joseph paid the price?” Victoria asked.

“He and Barbara divorced because of you,” Sarah said, “but of course you were too selfish to notice what was happening around you.”

Victoria stood and gathered her coat. ”I don’t need to listen to this nonsense.” Molly tried to stop her, but Victoria shook her head. At the door she turned. “Sarah, Agatha, I’m sorry you feel the way you do, but this is my home too. And my family.”

“Not like you ever acted that way,” Agatha said as Victoria closed the door.

The gray twilight had turned black. The wind stung her cheeks, like when she held an ice pack too long against her skin. The cold watered her eyes and her forehead ached as she walked home trying to understand what Sarah had said about Joseph’s divorce. There were things Victoria knew she’d done in her past to hurt her friends, but to be blamed for Joseph’s divorce was ridiculous.

The warm air of her sunroom made her tight muscles feel like ice cubes dropped into a hot frying pan. She held her arms to her chest and shivered while her frozen body melted. The arthritic bones in her hands creaked and the joints popped with movement as she stretched the tight tendons. Upstairs, she changed
into violet silk pajamas, slipped her feet into the furry slippers Molly had given her one birthday, and huddled under the covers.

Victoria filled her lungs with air, letting her ribs expand and her collarbone rise. She counted to ten. The breath released, her shoulders dropped, and she squeezed her stomach to exhale. Hours of yoga, recommended by her psychiatrist, had taught her this special way of breathing. After fifteen minutes of inhaling and exhaling she felt warm, but the sword through her gut continued to bleed memories.

T
wo years after her father’s death, Victoria returned to Nagog for a social visit—her first in twelve years besides her parents’ funerals—and the community hadn’t opened their arms to welcome her back.