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By Root 521 0

loved Dennis too much. He was one of her father’s closest friends. It was at times like this she needed a brother or sister. She felt so alone. Her poor children, they deserved a better, stronger mother, one who could hold on to their father for them. What more could she do? She’d tried everything. Better sex. Golf lessons. Being more assertive with him. Being less assertive. Keeping the house perfectly neat, the way he liked it. Letting it be a mess so she didn’t have to nag the kids when he was home. Striving to be a better Catholic, her trade-off to God for a better marriage. She burst into tears, wailing in shame and anger—all the PreCana lectures she’d given, all her insipid, shallow, hypocritical exhortations to always be honest with one another, no matter the consequences, when all along she’d known, had carried this worm in her heart, allowing it to feed on her self-confidence and pride until there was nothing left. The one thing she had never done was leave.

She called Father Hensile at the rectory. Mrs. Slane said he had gone into Boston for a meeting. Did she want to leave a message? Her voice was too congested from crying for Mrs. Slane to recognize. No, no message.

It took three trips to the attic to get the luggage downstairs. She packed Annie first, then Jimmy, but left her suitcase empty on the bed. Why, when she didn’t matter? Nothing mattered. Not anymore. She had already called the lake ferry. The last boat to the island left at eight tonight. She called her mother and told her she was taking the children to the cottage for a surprise holiday. Delighted to have somebody using the place after all the renovations, her mother offered to call the handyman, Henderson, and have him air the place out. “Tell Dennis to be sure and take Jimmy out in Dad’s new Sun-fish. Well, Annie, too, of course, if—”

“It’ll just be me and the children, Mother.”

“Oh. I see. Is everything all right, honey?”

“Yes.”

“You sound congested.”

“I am. A little,” she said with her mother’s uneasy breathing in her ear. Fear was in the genes. And cowardice: She didn’t want to know, either.

She was loading the suitcases into the car when Dennis pulled into the garage. His face was blotchy and haggard.

“Oh, so she did get my message.” She checked her watch. “I called her an hour ago. What did you do, rush over there as soon as she called? What, have you been trying to make her feel better? Did you tell her how harmless I am, how weak and stupid I am?”

“I’m sorry. Please, Lisa. Please listen to me.” He couldn’t look at her.

“I can’t. I have to go. The children are next door. They’re waiting for me.”

“Wait. Just listen to me. Please. Don’t I at least deserve that?”

“No!” She couldn’t help laughing. She got into the car and started the engine. He leaned down, clutching the window well. Such beautiful hands; they made his treachery all the more painful. Letting her eyes linger on his for a moment, she pitied him. Always in a hurry, rushing around, quick to laugh, loving too easily but never deeply, always skimming the surface of things, the bright smile, the flashy car, the big showy house, trading his freedom, his happiness, for the Harrington connection, poor Dennis. If Gordon had never grown past eighteen, Dennis was stunted, too, ever the handsome, overreaching teenager, desperate to show the world what a great guy he was, but never forgiving his brother.

“Don’t leave me, Lisa, please don’t. I’ll do anything,” he gasped. Tears streamed down his face. “I can’t live without you. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Then move back home with your brother!” she said as she backed out.

CHAPTER 19

Promise seemed to be everywhere this morning as Delores stepped out of The Dearborn Lady on Main Street. She had just been hired by the best dress shop in town and started next week. She had forgotten how busy Dearborn was and yet how tranquil. It was a place where everything worked the way it should. Even the bumper-to-bumper traffic stopped the minute she stepped off the curb. She meandered up one side of the street, then down the other, surprised