Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [187]
“Will you take us to the beach, Grandpa?” Foster said, pulling at Pat’s shorts. “Can we bury you in the sand like last time?”
“Wait a minute, you two,” Patty said. “Let’s let Grandma and Grandpa adjust to this invasion before we start making demands.”
Josh was walking up from the car, laden down with bags and beach chairs and a plastic cooler.
“Foster, go help Dad,” Patty said.
He did as she said. Father and son returned a few moments later, though Foster’s hands were empty.
“He said he had achieved perfect balance and would topple if I took anything,” Foster reported.
“Okay,” Patty said. “Well, it was nice of you to ask.”
“When can we see the bears eating out of the Dumpsters?” Foster asked.
Maisy covered her eyes with her hands, as if the bears were right there on the porch. “I don’t want to see them at all, please!” she said, and everyone laughed.
A few moments later, Maisy started shuffling from one foot to the other.
“You need to hit the bathroom again, bug?” Josh asked.
Maisy shook her head no, and then nodded yes.
“Dad, you gotta help me get my suit off!” she said.
“Okay, okay, let me put everything down.”
Ann Marie thought of how they were just as likely to go to Josh as to Patty. She had never wanted Patrick to understand the children like she did, preferring that the mystery of child-rearing be mostly her domain. Perhaps that had been a mistake, but it still seemed strange for a father to take his daughter to the bathroom, especially when the mother was standing right there.
“Little Daniel and Regina are coming up for dinner,” Patty said now.
“Oh?”
“They just called me in the car to say so. They called you, too, but it went to voice mail.”
“Well, that’s wonderful,” Ann Marie said. “What should we have?”
A debate ensued over whether to drive up the coast toward Kennebunkport or to stay at home and cook hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill.
Ann Marie’s spirits were high. Here was her family, swirling around her, just as she liked, only beginning a week away at their summer home. She knew that it would go by in a flash, but even so she said a silent prayer, asking God to help her enjoy whatever time they had left.
Kathleen
On the fifth of July, Kathleen went to her sleeping daughter and gently shook Maggie’s shoulder. Through the open bedroom window, she could hear the sound of the surf, seagulls calling to one another.
“Mags, wake up, we’ve got to go,” she whispered.
“Go where?” Maggie asked, her eyes still closed.
“Home. I’m taking you back to New York.”
Maggie opened just her left eye. “Why are we leaving in the middle of the night?”
“It’s seven thirty in the morning,” Kathleen said.
Now Maggie opened the other eye, and said, “For you, seven thirty in the morning is the middle of the night. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you in the car,” Kathleen said. “Hop in the shower. I want to get out of here before Ann Marie wakes up.”
“Did you do something bad to her?” Maggie asked.
“No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t. Now come on!”
Kathleen had been up all night trying to decide how she should handle the situation. Should she write Ann Marie a note letting her know that her secret was safe, and then stick around for a couple more days to make things look normal to everyone else? Should she try to get that asshole Steve Brewer in private, and tell him that if he didn’t keep his mouth shut, he’d have her to answer to? Or should she simply go away, sending Ann Marie the silent message that the whole silly episode could now vanish too? Kathleen decided that if the roles were reversed, she’d want Ann Marie to leave.
She had never felt protective of her sister-in-law before. It was a strange sensation. It felt nice when you saw yourself evolving a bit; it felt better than any bitchy comeback or snide remark ever could. She wished Arlo were there so they could discuss it.
She had called him before she went to sleep, but instead of mentioning Ann Marie she said, “I took a step back tonight and I finally realized Maggie