The Smart One (37 page)

“Is she kidding?” Claire said. “How rude is that?”

“She’s probably just trying to be helpful,” Martha said. Bets was old, and Martha figured she no longer knew what was insulting and what wasn’t.

“Honestly, girls. Your grandmother doesn’t know what she’s doing or saying half the time.”

“She probably thought it was a nice thing to send,” Claire said. She laughed a little bit.

“I think I’ll put him in my closet anyway,” Martha said. “It can’t hurt, right?”

“Look at it this way,” Claire said. “At least she thinks you’re worth sending it to. She probably thinks I’m past the point of a lost cause.”

Martha took the statue upstairs and wrapped it in an old shirt that she never wore anymore, then stuffed the bundle in the back of her closet. It seemed a little sacrilegious, and she knew this wasn’t how things were supposed to work, but why not? She was surprised that Bets thought such a thing was possible. How did such a religious woman end up thinking that her beliefs basically boiled down to voodoo?

MARTHA DRAGGED CLAIRE TO J.CREW
to get fitted for the bridesmaid dress. “I know what my size is,” she kept saying, but Martha insisted.

“It’s better to get measured. I’ve seen it happen a million times that girls think they know their size and then the dress doesn’t fit them properly. Plus, I want your opinion on what style we should get. We can all do the same or do it a little different. Cathy said it was up to me.”

“Okay, fine. Whatever.”

It was strange to walk back into J.Crew. It felt sort of like going back to visit your grade school after you’d been gone for a couple of years. Things looked the same, but also Martha was overwhelmed with the brightness of everything, the sheer amount of stuff that was in the store. She felt dizzy at first.

“Did things move around?” she asked Wally.

“Nope. Same as it’s always been, Squirrel.”

Wally took Claire back to put her in some of the dresses and to measure her. The two of them were fast friends, which irritated Martha just a little bit. She could hear them giggling behind the curtain.

“Everything okay in there?” she called. It was not only a waste of time, but also pretty unprofessional of Wally to be giggling away instead of helping customers.

“We’re fine,” Claire said. She came out in a strapless light gray dress.

“Oh, I love it,” Martha said. “That’s the one I was thinking. Driftwood, right?”

“Yep,” Wally said. “She looks amazing in it.”

Again, Martha felt just a little irritated because first of all, he didn’t say that Martha would also look amazing in it, and that was just rude. He should know that if you were dealing with bridesmaids, you shouldn’t single one of them out. That was Retail 101. And granted, she wasn’t a regular customer, but still …

“Do you like it?” she asked Claire.

“Yeah, it’s cute actually. It’s fine.” She shrugged as if she couldn’t care less.

“Just fine? Do you want to look at some of the others?”

“No, this one’s good.”

“Claire, a little help here would be nice. A little more enthusiasm and effort, please.”

“It’s fine. I’m going to wear this dress once, to a wedding at a yoga retreat that’s probably going to be filled with lesbians, so it’s fine.”

Martha was horrified and turned to Wally to apologize, but he was laughing. “Probably not going to meet a man at this wedding, are you?” he asked, and the two of them laughed and laughed.

On the way home, Martha told Claire, “You know, maybe you’re having trouble with this wedding because of your situation, but I don’t think it’s fair to not put any effort forth as a bridesmaid for Cathy.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, this is Cathy’s day. We need to be there for her, no matter what our feelings are.”

“Are you serious right now?” Claire asked.

Martha hated that people (especially Claire) always asked her that. Did it seem like she was joking? “Yes, I’m serious.”

“Martha, didn’t I just go with you to pick out the bridesmaid dresses? And that wasn’t even something that Cathy wanted—that was something that you wanted. Plus, the only reason I’m a bridesmaid is because you are and Cathy was just being polite.”

“That’s not true,” Martha said. “Don’t think that.”

“Um, I don’t care, so you don’t have to use your voice like you feel bad for me, but of course that’s true. And it’s fine. Cathy and I have never been close. She used to basically torture me when I was little, remember?”

“She had a lot of issues,” Martha said.

“Yes, she did.”

“I’m just saying, maybe you should be a little more enthusiastic about the wedding.”

“And I’m just saying, if you don’t shut up now, I’m going to jump out of the car.”

By that time they were just about home anyway, and they drove up the street in silence. Claire slammed her door shut and was inside the house before Martha even got out of the car. She sat for a moment, then pulled herself together and went up to Claire’s room, where she knocked, but then opened the door right away.

“You know, Dr. Baer said that she once knew two adult sisters that moved back home and had so much trouble, that they went to couples counseling.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s just something to consider.”

“We are not going to couples counseling.”

“You shouldn’t judge therapy so much. You know, you might benefit from it.”

“Martha, seriously. If you don’t get out of here, I’m going to push you out. I mean it.” Claire stood up from her bed, like she was going to come after Martha, like they were going to have a physical fight, which they hadn’t done in about twenty years. Even then, it rarely happened, where they actually pulled each other’s hair or pinched one another. But Claire was moving toward the door, and Martha turned and ran, hearing the door slam behind her.

MR. CRANSTON SLEPT MORE AND MORE.
At first Martha thought maybe he was just coming down with something, but he never really seemed to bounce back. Everything exhausted him. He never even read the papers anymore. He would start to, and then get tired or frustrated, and they remained folded up on the table until the next morning, when Martha would throw them in the recycling bin and replace them with the new ones.

Jaz seemed to be around more, like she was nervous to leave. Martha didn’t mind, since it gave them a chance to talk. She told Jaz about the Saint Jude statue, which made her laugh, but then she said, “It can’t hurt, can it?”

“No,” Martha agreed. “It can’t.”

Most mornings, Jaz was there to fix breakfast for Mr. Cranston. Martha noticed that she started giving him bacon every once in a while. “He needs a pick-me-up today,” she said, whenever she fried the bacon slices up in the pan.

All of a sudden, it felt like everyone was waiting. There was no more talk of new doctors, and even Ruby and Billy decided to get over their fight and began spending time at the house together.

“I decided to start looking for a place to buy,” Martha told Jaz one day.

“That’s good,” Jaz said. “You should keep moving forward for as long as you can, until you can’t move forward anymore.”

Martha started to write that one down, but found it was too depressing.
She ended up tearing the page out of her notebook and throwing it away.

SHE WAS HAPPY TO BE SPENDING
her weekends with Sarah again. She’d been a little nervous, but they fell back into a routine pretty quickly. Sarah would come and pick her up, they’d stop at Starbucks and go over the listings for the day, and then they’d head out.

On the second time they were out, they looked at an old converted loft. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an open kitchen, and a balcony.

“I know you said you didn’t want a loft space,” Sarah said. “But I think you should look at this one. It’s all brand-new, which I think you’ll like. Brand-new appliances, a washer and dryer, the works. It’s really beautiful.”

Martha was sure she wouldn’t like it, especially when she saw there was still sawdust in the lobby. “They’re still working on most of the units,” Sarah explained.

It wasn’t at all what Martha had pictured as her new home. It had high ceilings and exposed brick and pipes. But there was something about it.

“Do you think it will be loud?” Martha asked.

“There might be some echo,” Sarah said. “That can happen in spaces like these. But I don’t think it will be too bad.”

“Okay,” Martha said. She walked into the smaller bedroom.

“So what do you think?” Sarah asked. “Should we say it’s a maybe?”

“Yeah,” Martha said. “Let’s put it at the top of the list.”

IN MAY, THEY THREW CLEO
a baby shower. Weezy kept saying, “It’s the right thing to do. This baby is coming, so let’s get on board.” She pretty much just kept repeating this to herself as the days went on, but Martha figured whatever helped her was okay.

Martha and Claire put together the invitations, rolled-up pieces of paper in actual baby bottles that they mailed out. Martha had seen this on a crafts show once and she’d been dying to try it. Claire had sort of grumbled about the idea, but finally agreed, and the two of them went
to Target to buy all the supplies, stocking the cart with baby bottles, ribbon, and confetti shaped like little rattles.

“We should get some streamers,” Martha said.

“Really? Streamers?”

“You don’t think so?”

“That seems more junior high dance than baby shower.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” They continued walking up and down the aisles. “I still can’t believe this is happening. I feel so bad for Mom and Dad.”

“Don’t you feel bad for Max?”

“No. I mean, look what this is doing to Mom and Dad. He’s the one that put himself in this position.”

“Martha, it was an accident. You think he meant to do this?”

“I’m just saying it was irresponsible. And he’s always been that way. I’m just worried about Mom being able to handle this.”

“She’s fine.”

“She’s not fine. Haven’t you noticed? And it’s really affecting the whole family.”

“Have I noticed that she’s being dramatic because that’s how she is? Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“You’re being really insensitive.”

“I’m being insensitive? You’re the one that doesn’t even feel bad for our twenty-one-year-old brother who’s about to be a dad and is scared out of his mind. Stop making this about anyone else. It’s Max that has to deal with this, and he’s the one you should be worried about.”

The two of them pushed the cart down the aisles, sighing and shaking their heads. “Have you thought any more about coming to therapy with me?” Martha finally asked.

“Oh my God, Martha, I’m not going to couples therapy with you. Seriously, what is your problem?”

“It’s not my problem. We’re having trouble communicating.”

“No, we’re not. You’re just looking for something to be wrong. You’re looking for a problem to have. It’s like you like it when you have issues to deal with.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, it seems like it is. It seems like Max is taking a lot of the attention lately, and you want some disaster of your own to focus on, and so you want to go to couples therapy with your sister, which isn’t just ridiculous—it’s totally weird.”

“People have done it,” Martha said. She sniffed.

“I’m sure they have. But we’re not going to. Look at us—we’re communicating right now. So let’s finish shopping for this baby shower and go home.”

“Fine,” Martha said. Later that afternoon, she sat on her bed and evaluated her behavior. This was something that Dr. Baer had suggested she do. She wasn’t being insensitive to Max, like Claire suggested. That was absurd She just didn’t think that everyone needed to be falling all over themselves feeling bad for Max and Cleo, when really, they were the ones who got themselves into this mess in the first place.

MR. CRANSTON CAME DOWN WITH A COLD,
that turned into bronchitis, that turned into pneumonia. When he coughed, his whole body shook, and sometimes it sounded like his chest was going to rip right out of him.

Ruby and Billy agreed that it was probably smart to have nurses there round the clock, at least for a little while. “He’s having so much trouble breathing,” Jaz told Martha. “They just want to make sure that there’s someone here to help.”

Martha wished that she could be the nurse that was there, but she couldn’t. She hadn’t done one thing—not one thing!—to start getting recertified. What had she been doing this whole time? She was ashamed of herself for wasting these months. Sure, there had been family drama that had taken her attention away, but still. That was no excuse. She promised herself that she would start looking into it.

THE BABY SHOWER WAS A SUCCESS,
despite the arguments that had taken place. She and Claire strung a clothesline across the living room, and hung little onesies on it. Claire had wanted to make strawberry cupcakes, but Martha thought that made it look like the baby was going to be a girl.

“I think it’s fine,” Claire said. “It’s a girlie cupcake, the kind you would have at a shower.” But Martha was really against it, and eventually Claire gave up and made chocolate chip cupcakes instead, which were delicious.

Martha was dying to meet Cleo’s mom at the shower. Cleo had described her once as “driven,” and Martha wanted to know what that meant exactly. Elizabeth arrived a few minutes after the shower started, as though she were just another guest and not the mother of the mother-to-be. She wore a suit, and stood out among all the other women. Martha wasn’t surprised to see that Elizabeth was a very attractive woman, although she noticed that her beauty was a little different from Cleo’s, more focused and angular. Elizabeth had a firm handshake and she was direct and in command, which Martha admired. When Cleo opened the presents, Elizabeth stood in the very back of the room, like a Secret Service agent watching the crowd.

Cleo got so much gear that Martha couldn’t even imagine where she was going to put it all. People had so much stuff for babies these days. There was a bouncy chair, a vibrating chair, and a swing. There were mats and mobiles and play sets. It was craziness.

But at the end of the day, when Cleo was done unwrapping her presents, sitting among the piles of her loot, she thanked Weezy, Martha, and Claire for the shower, and even started to cry a little bit. Martha felt satisfied, like she’d done a good deed. She wanted to point out to Claire that an insensitive person wouldn’t have felt that way, but she kept it to herself.