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Authors: Brunonia Barry

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BOOK: The Map of True Places
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P
ART
4:
August 2008

Only when one learns to determine his true location by looking at the stars will he be able to chart an accurate course to his final destination. The tools needed are simple enough: the chronometer, the sextant, the almanac, the charts, and some relatively simple method of mathematical calculation.

T
HE INVITATION TO
M
ATTEI
and Rhonda's wedding still sat on the lazy Susan where Zee had left it. She had told Mattei she was coming, but she called the office now, just to confirm that she would not be bringing anyone. At some point Zee would have to go to town to get a wedding present, but not today.

It was cold for the end of August. Channel Five had promised a warming trend by Friday, which would be good for Rhonda, since the ceremony was outside on Sunday night. The reception was at the Boston Harbor Hotel, something Zee would not have predicted. Though everything about this wedding seemed to be much more traditional than she expected, the hotel was a great location for Zee, who could just catch the ferry from Salem and walk across from Long Wharf to Rowes. It also gave her an excuse to escape early. The last ferry of the night left for Salem at ten.

The office would be closed all month, but she knew that Mattei would be checking messages. She hadn't told her what had happened, that she'd stopped seeing Hawk, or even that Hawk was really Adam. The story was too complicated and coincidental to be believed, much less understood. Mattei was already worried that Zee was preoccupied with Lilly Braedon. If she told Mattei that Hawk was Adam, she was
afraid that Mattei's alarm bells would go off and she would believe that this was something Zee had known all along, something she'd pursued. Zee would tell Mattei eventually—she would have to—but not yet. Not until she figured out how to frame it. She was glad the office was closed for the traditional month of August. She didn't want to talk.

What Zee did instead was to look into nursing homes. During the last few weeks, Finch had lost a lot of ground. More often than not these days, he called her Maureen, something he'd done on occasion since she arrived but that he was now doing with alarming regularity. Zee knew it was time. She wanted to be proactive, to pick a good place, a facility that treated both Parkinson's and the Alzheimer's crossover he was experiencing more and more lately. She interviewed and rejected at least six places before she found one that she actually thought Finch might tolerate. It was a combination of assisted living and nursing home, with a special unit dedicated to early dementia. Finch had taken two falls in the last few weeks. It was clear he needed more care than he could get at home. Unfortunately, the place she liked had a long waiting list. Even full-paying patients like Finch could expect to wait almost a year.

In one sense she was relieved. She knew that it was the right thing to do, but it still made her sad to think of Finch in a home. Zee added his name to the waiting list, but then she took another tack, hiring Jessina full-time and augmenting Finch's daily care with more help on nights and weekends. Though she was still having doubts about her choice of career, Zee knew she had to get back to work. This new plan would allow her to commute back and forth to Boston.

She'd met Melville for dinner a few times since her breakup, at Nathaniel's and at 62 on Wharf or at the Lyceum or the Regatta Pub. Melville was still a foodie at heart, and she was glad to join him for a delicious meal when invited. The night Finch fell for the third time, they had been together at the Grapevine, sitting in the outdoor garden and eating their famous chowder when Jessina called Zee's cell.

By the time they got back to the house, the EMTs were already there. Jessina was crying, and Finch was lying flat on the floor in the hallway, his walker upended. His breathing was irregular, and he was in and out of consciousness.

The EMT suspected a broken rib, maybe a punctured lung.

Zee rode in the ambulance, and Melville followed behind. It took eight hours before they admitted Finch into a room, and Melville waited in the lobby all night.

Finch had two broken ribs. He looked as if he'd been beaten. He had a bump on his right temple.

“He has a scalp hematoma on his right temple, and they were worried about hemorrhage,” Zee said when she finally came out to send Melville home. “He seems confused. But now they're convinced that his confusion is from the dementia, so they can give him the painkillers he needs.”

Melville went home, but he returned the next morning. He didn't come into the room but hung back in the hall, waiting for Zee to see him and come out.

“You look terrible,” he told her. “Why don't you go home for a while and get some sleep.”

“What if he wakes up?” Zee said.

“When did he get his last shot?” Melville asked.

“About an hour ago.”

“I'll sit with him. If he starts to wake up, I'll get out of the room quickly and give you a call.”

She wasn't sure.

“Go,” he said.

She did go home, and she did sleep.

And though Finch didn't wake up, Melville sat with him for the rest of the day.

 

I
N THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED,
Finch was allowed a few visitors. Mickey came by. He brought Finch a chop-suey sandwich from the Willows and Zee a bag of the popcorn he knew she liked. Finch didn't wake up enough to eat, and Mickey ended up consuming the sandwich.

Finch slept most of the time, and when he did wake up, he seemed more confused than usual, as much a product of the continuing painkillers as the dementia. Ann came to visit every afternoon, bringing tea and novels from Cornerstone Books for Zee to read. She loaded her iPod with music she knew Zee would like and loaned it to her.

Melville came by every day after work, though he always sat in a chair by the door and didn't speak much while he was there. Whenever Finch's eyes blinked awake, Melville would slip out the door so quietly it was almost as if he'd never been there at all.

T
HE
L
ABOR
D
AY SAIL
was scheduled to leave the wharf at 6:00
P.M.
on Friday. Hawk got to the
Friendship
just as they were casting off.

“I figured you weren't coming,” Josh said. “Thought maybe you'd run off with Zee and gotten yourself married.”

“No such luck,” Hawk said. If there was any way he could have gotten out of this commitment, he would have done it. He didn't want to be anyplace near Salem. But he'd given his word. They were heading north to the Isles of Shoals for the weekend, stopping for an event on Star Island. Many of the historic tall ships were making the trip, which was essentially a benefit to raise money for the National Park Foundation. There would be pirates and privateers and people singing sea chanteys and telling maritime ghost stories. Same old same old, Hawk thought. The weekend was advertised as “Labor Day Fun for the Whole Family.” There was nothing Hawk wanted to do less. At least they weren't staying for the Monday holiday. They would be home late Sunday night.

 

A
NN
C
HASE WALKED ACROSS
P
ICKERING
Wharf and back toward her store. Mickey Doherty was being even more ridiculous today than usual. She'd come over to complain about his monkey. Mini
Mick had jumped on her cat, Persephone, from the top of the window box where Ann grew her herbs. When he tried to ride the cat, she went wild and dug scratches into the monkey's face.

Ann was an animal person, and she certainly felt bad about the monkey's injuries, but maybe this time Mini Mick would learn a lesson.

“Sounds like my boy got what he deserved,” Mickey said, putting the monkey into the cage he'd fashioned out of an old supply closet, its door removed and replaced with chicken wire. As the cage doors closed, Mini Mick began to masturbate enthusiastically.

Mickey chose that moment to ask Ann out to dinner.

It was unfortunate timing, and she frowned in response.

“Is that your answer?”

For a long time, Mickey had been telling Ann she should ditch the guys she usually favored and go out with him.

“Come on, time to give up the crunchy granolas and the weird war-locks and give me a go,” he said. “I've been asking you out for the last three years.”

“More like five,” she said.

“Okay, five. I'm clearly quite persistent.”

She turned back to face him. “Oh, for God's sake,” she said. “Will you leave me alone if I say yes?”

“Maybe,” he said. “That depends on how it goes.”

“Forget it,” Ann said, heading for the door.

“Okay, okay, just one date and I'll leave you alone.” He crossed his heart.

“Saturday at five. Finz,” Ann said, naming a local restaurant she favored.

“Five? What are we, senior citizens?”

“Take it or leave it,” she said.

“Okay, okay, Finz at five.”

“And leave the damned monkey at home,” she said.

O
N
S
ATURDAY MORNING
Z
EE
moved Finch to rehabilitative care at one of the nursing homes she had interviewed and rejected.

If Finch minded, he didn't say so. His bruises had started to yellow, and his breathing was easier. But his injuries had left him unable to stand. He would need a lot of physical therapy before he could walk again.

Zee checked him in, then sat while they tested him. That he recognized Zee's face was a relief to her, though he couldn't seem to recall her name. He failed his cognitive-skills test.

“That could be the drugs,” the nurse said. “He's still on a low dose of oxycodone.”

The nursing home told her they would quickly wean him off the drug.

“Won't he need something for the pain when they start physical therapy?”

“Yes, but probably something milder.”

She didn't want Finch here. But for now it was the only choice. He couldn't be cared for at home as yet, that much was clear.

She followed the administrator to the office to fill out more paperwork.

“Does he have a health-care proxy?” the admitting nurse asked.

“I don't think so,” Zee said.

“Does he have a wife?”

“She's deceased.”

“Any other children?”

“Just me,” she said.

“What about a DNR?”

“A Do Not Resuscitate form?” Zee asked.

The nurse nodded.

“I don't know.”

“If he doesn't have a health-care proxy, he probably doesn't have a DNR.”

She thought about Finch's skills as organizer. He had a tendency to let things slide.

“Probably not,” she said.

“It's a good thing to have,” the nurse said. “In cases like this. You can't do anything until the doctor declares him mentally incompetent, though. After that you can probably sign a DNR for him.”

Zee thought about the AMTS test they had just taken. Finch had been able to pass about a third of it before. This time he hadn't been able to answer a single question.

“I plan to bring him home when he's better,” Zee said.

The nurse looked doubtful but didn't comment.

 

Z
EE DECIDED TO KEEP
J
ESSINA
on even after Finch left the house. Sometimes she asked her to go to the nursing home so that Finch would have more company, and sometimes she had her work on the house, cleaning out and sorting the years of papers Finch had collected.

Over the last months, Zee had become friends with Jessina and Danny, whom she sometimes brought to work with her if they needed
help cleaning or moving things around. Jessina kept baking, taking Finch cookies or cupcakes every time she went to visit, sharing the extras with the nursing staff. These days the old house on Turner Street always smelled like a bakery, which provided a comforting feeling that Zee appreciated a lot. In a way it was too bad they weren't selling the house, Zee thought. The aroma of baking alone would have brought bidders to the table.

One day when they were cleaning out, Danny found a pile of eight-by-ten black-and-white photos under some old school papers Finch had saved. He was showing them to Jessina when Zee came into the room.

“These are beautiful,” Jessina said. “Why did he not hang them up?”

Zee looked over their shoulders at the photos. “Finch took those,” she said. There were several pictures of Zee and of Melville and many more of the House of the Seven Gables taken from the street, all with dates and descriptions. Zee couldn't answer Jessina's question. For some reason Finch had never displayed any of his photos.

“Look at this one,” Jessina said, holding up a picture of Maureen. “That's your mother, yes?”

Maureen was young in the photo, early twenties if she was that. She was dressed in a stylish suit, and around her was a halo of mist. Her smile seemed so innocent and full of promise that it startled Zee.

Jessina turned the photo over. The label on the back read simply
Honeymoon. Niagara Falls.

“This should definitely be in a frame and put out for everyone to see.” Jessina held it up to a shelf to indicate a possible display location.

“No,” Zee said, taking the photo.

She stared at it. Though she had always known that Maureen's stories were embellished, it shocked her to think that her mother had lied about her honeymoon. Maureen had looked so happy in the photograph that it seemed odd she would have bothered to create a whole fantasy around Baker's Island. Had Finch been telling the truth when he said
he'd never been there? Zee had dismissed his statement as part of his dementia, but now she was inclined to believe him.

In a flash, Zee realized the real reason she kept getting Maureen and Lilly mixed up. It wasn't that they were both bipolar. It wasn't even that they had both committed suicide. It was something else that they had in common, and it had nothing to do with their illnesses. Mattei's old adage came to Zee's mind now:
Everybody lies.
Maureen and Lilly had both lied to Zee. That was no big surprise. But it was more than that, she realized now. The lies or stories that Maureen and Lilly told were not lies they were telling Zee, they were the mythology they were creating for themselves. When they were no longer able to believe their own fairy tales, they lost all hope.

It was a huge revelation, and it explained a lot.

 

T
HAT NIGHT
J
ESSINA AND
D
ANNY
stayed around until they were certain that Zee was all right. It surprised Zee to find that she was not only all right but that she was better than she'd been for a long while. She was understandably sad about everything that had happened that summer. But something had changed inside her when she saw the happy picture of Maureen. Something had lifted.

“I'm okay,” she said to Jessina. “I really am.”

 

M
ATTEI AND
R
HONDA WERE GETTING
married on the Sunday of the long Labor Day weekend. As fate would have it, Sunday was both the last day of August and Zee's birthday, and somehow she had let this slip to Jessina, who was busy at work making her a birthday cake when Zee had to leave to meet Melville.

“I'll put it on the table when I go,” Jessina said. “It's chocolate with white vanilla frosting,” she said. “Your favorite.”

“Sounds delicious,” Zee said. “Thank you.”

Zee had to leave earlier than Jessina had planned. Melville made her promise to meet him for an early birthday dinner at Finz before she caught the ferry into Boston for the wedding. Though there would be dinner at the wedding, she agreed to meet. She needed to talk to him about Finch's advance directives.

BOOK: The Map of True Places
11.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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