Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [144]
“I had arranged with Alice to be here for the rest of the month, since you and your mother couldn’t stay,” Ann Marie said.
“But I told her three weeks ago I was staying through the end of June,” Maggie said. “Not that we can’t both stay. That might be fun.”
She was a polite girl, shockingly so given her upbringing, but Ann Marie could tell that Maggie found the prospect every bit as unappealing as she herself did.
“That’s true,” Ann Marie said.
“I’ll help you bring your luggage in from the car,” Maggie said.
They made small talk as they carried in her suitcases and bags of groceries and cleaning products.
“How are Patty’s kids?” Maggie asked. “They must be getting big.”
“They’re adorable,” Ann Marie said. “Foster has Big Daniel’s ears! I’ll show you pictures.”
“I’d love that,” Maggie said.
“Oh, and the baby’s doing swimming lessons! He goes to his classes twice a week.”
“What? How old is he?”
“One!” Ann Marie said.
“Wow.”
“That’s nothing. Maisy’s four, and she’s already in her third year of T-ball class. She knows all the moves. She’s ready to start on a team next fall.”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Is that typical, T-ball for two-year-olds?”
“They don’t let them stay babies for long anymore,” Ann Marie said.
“How much does stuff like that cost?” Maggie asked—a terribly odd question if you asked Ann Marie.
“I’m not quite sure,” she said. “Not too much. Josh even takes her to these toddler batting cages they have now. All the dads go.”
Maggie looked stricken. Should she not have mentioned fathers?
Ann Marie always felt a bit sad for the girl. She probably should have done more for her niece over the years. She had tried, when she could, to make Maggie feel special, loved. But she had her own three children to think about first, and any time she gave Maggie a nice gift just because, or offered to take her away with them to Disney World, Kathleen would fly into such an unholy huff that Ann Marie regretted ever getting involved.
“How’s your mom?” she asked now.
“Oh, she’s good.”
“Life on the farm keeping her busy?”
“Yup. Hey, did you see that article in The Times a couple weeks ago about Peace Corps volunteers?”
Ann Marie felt her entire body contract. “No.”
“It was great, all about famous alums. Sort of a ‘Where are they now’ kind of thing. It made me think of Fiona.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Ann Marie said.
“I thought I might send it to her.”
“That would be sweet. I know she’d love to read it.”
“She’s been gone so long.”
“Yes.”
“Does she have any idea what she wants to do next?” Maggie asked.
Ann Marie tried to sound casual. “The mother is always the last to know.” It felt like more than she had meant to say, but Maggie just smiled.
After they had brought in all the bags, Maggie worked on her laptop at the dining table while Ann Marie read her dollhouse magazines out on the porch. She tried to relax and take in the view. But she was eager for Alice to get back and explain things. They spoke almost every day. How had her mother-in-law managed not to mention Maggie’s presence? Ann Marie was struck with a fearful thought: Maybe Alice’s memory was worse than they had realized. Maybe she had somehow forgotten about the overlap.
But when Alice walked into the cottage an hour or so later, that possibility vanished. She stepped out onto the porch, sliding the door closed behind her.
“Oh, good, you made it!” she said. “How was the drive?”
“Fine. I was sort of startled to find Maggie here.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and I think she felt the same way. I wish you’d have told me she was staying.”
“Why?” Alice asked. “Would you not have come? In my day, people actually enjoyed going to the beach with their family. It wasn’t a chore.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ann Marie said.
“Come out front and see my garden,” Alice said. “It looks like a million bucks.”
That night, the three of them ate dinner at Barnacle Billy’s. While they waited in line to place their order at the counter, Ann Marie looked into the cloudy lobster tank, feeling somewhat sorry for the poor creatures. Their