Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [158]
“It’s no big deal,” he said. “They happened to have the part in stock. And I thought it might be good if we all had a talk. Is Ann Marie here?”
Alice pointed at her and said in a judgmental stage whisper, “She’s drinking an awful lot today. She’s acting very odd.”
“I can hear you!” Ann Marie snapped from the other room, which was indeed extremely odd for her.
The priest frowned. “I’m afraid I might be to blame for all of this,” he said.
“You?” Alice said. “Oh no, not at all.”
“I’m afraid I mentioned our arrangement regarding the property to Ann Marie,” he said.
Alice’s eyes grew wide.
What arrangement? Kathleen thought.
The priest continued, “I hope we can all talk and I can help sort this out.”
“That is rich,” Ann Marie chirped, getting up from her seat now and storming into the kitchen. Kathleen felt a jolt of excitement and curiosity—a fight was brewing and it had nothing whatsoever to do with her.
“You’re going to sort us all out, huh?” Ann Marie went on. “Why don’t you start by explaining to me how you managed to con an old woman into giving you our family’s summer home.”
“What?” Maggie said.
The priest looked at Alice. “I don’t understand.”
Alice got up close to Ann Marie. Kathleen was positive it was the old woman part that had done her in.
“No one has conned anyone. And you’re embarrassing me in front of my guest,” Alice snarled. “This is not our family’s home, Ann Marie. It’s my home. Mine.”
Ann Marie looked like she had been slapped. Kathleen almost felt sorry for her. She had tried to explain to Ann Marie many times when they were young that there was no sense trying to build up goodwill with Alice. If you displeased her once, that was it.
“When were you going to clue us in, Alice?” Ann Marie demanded, almost shouting now. “How could you give the house away without telling us? I don’t understand.”
Since she had no real stake in it, Kathleen felt like it was her responsibility to turn down the temperature on all of this, so she said in her calmest voice, “Why don’t we take some deep breaths and all try to relax a bit?”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Ann Marie said. “You don’t even care about this place. The only reason you’ve come here in ten years is to try to convince Maggie to have an abortion.”
“How the hell is that your business?” Kathleen asked.
“It concerns all of us,” Ann Marie said.
“Actually, no. It doesn’t.” Kathleen had only been trying to help, but now she felt her anger go straight from zero to a hundred and ten. “Just because you think your children are so goddamn perfect doesn’t mean you need to go looking for extra credit with mine.”
“You live across the country—you don’t know the first thing about my children,” Ann Marie said.
“Fiona’s a lesbian and Little Daniel’s a douche bag,” Kathleen said. “Update at eleven.”
Ann Marie looked like she might faint. She had probably never considered either possibility. Well there, give her something to chew on.
Alice narrowed her eyes at Maggie. “Is this true? Are you pregnant?”
They all turned to poor Maggie, whose face and neck were now covered in hives. Kathleen rubbed her daughter’s arm. She glanced over at the priest, who was looking down at his shoes.
“Yes,” Maggie said.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Alice said. “And you’ve been here all these weeks with me and you haven’t said a word.”
“Yes.”
Alice stiffened. “What do you intend to do about it?”
“I’m having the baby,” Maggie said.
“And Gabe?”
“He’s not in the picture anymore.”
Alice threw up her hands. “Well, that’s that, then. Worse things have happened.”
She seemed overly tranquil, and this pissed Kathleen off, since she knew that if it were one of Ann Marie’s kids standing here breaking this news, Alice would be apoplectic. But she expected the worst from Maggie and Chris, since after all they were merely appendages of Kathleen herself.
“You’re not angry?” Maggie asked.
“No,” Alice said.
“Because Maggie’s not one of your golden grandchildren, is that it?” Kathleen snapped. “How can you just say, ‘Oh, it’s fine. Go ahead and have a baby