Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [190]
While Maggie showered, Kathleen finished packing. She hadn’t brought much. She had worn the same faded T-shirt of Arlo’s for the past three days.
Eventually, Maggie came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, a wall of steam floating around her.
“Did you make the bed in your room?” Maggie asked.
“Yes!”
“Did you wash the sheets?”
“No. What is it with you and the sheets? Do you think I was performing an animal sacrifice in my sleep or something?”
Maggie sighed. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Kathleen found Alice in the kitchen washing dishes, already dressed in a dark blue pantsuit, her makeup done to perfection, her black bob sleek and in place. She looked like she was going to a funeral.
“We’re taking off,” Kathleen said.
Alice frowned. “Oh? Where to?”
“I’m driving Maggie back to New York.”
“Is that right?”
Kathleen opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of water. Beside it, dripping onto a saucer, was a tea bag.
“Maybe you should start living a little and stop reusing the tea bags, Mom.”
“Waste not, want not,” Alice said. “So, has Maggie come to her senses about Gabe? Are they getting back together?”
“No, thank God.”
“How can you say that?” Alice asked. “It’s always better for a child to have married parents. Do you know what children call other children who don’t have fathers?”
“It’s not 1951, Mom.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.” Alice paused. “If she’s not going to make up with Gabe, what’s the point of going back there?”
“To start getting ready, I guess,” Kathleen said.
Alice fiddled with the spray nozzle on the sink.
“Now this thing’s acting funny, as well as the disposal. And Ann Marie has succeeded at scaring Father Donnelly away from the place for as long as she’s still here.”
Neither of them mentioned the reason. Kathleen wasn’t sure whether she cared that her mother had given the property away, but she knew her siblings were upset. The whole situation was absolutely bizarre, Alice at her most Alice-like.
“Speaking of Ann Marie, will you give her a message for me?” Kathleen asked.
“That depends.” Alice’s tone was cautious, as if Kathleen were some traveling salesman asking her if she was in the market for an overpriced vacuum cleaner.
“On what?”
“The message! You can’t expect me to agree to say something before I even know what it is.”
Kathleen shook her head. “Oh my God. Okay. Tell her I was finally ready to leave the beach and get out of her hair.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Just tell her.”
“Fine.”
In the car, Kathleen told Maggie about the kiss. She had to. In fact, she was surprised she had been able to hold it in for that long.
“You can’t tell Arlo,” Maggie said.
“Why not? He’s not going to spill the beans.”
“I know, but once you’ve told me, and then him, it’s a hop, skip, and a jump and you’re telling Aunt Clare, and then it’s out to the family. And that’s dangerous.”
“Why are you such a Goody Two-shoes?” Kathleen asked, genuinely curious, though she knew Maggie was probably right.
“Promise me,” Maggie said.
“Okay, I promise. Sheesh.”
“I still don’t really understand why we left so abruptly,” Maggie said.
“It was time,” Kathleen said. “I’m not going to try to talk you into moving in with me anymore.”
“You’re not?”
“No. You’ve done a great job of convincing me that my house is a shit hole and no self-respecting person would ever want to live there with us.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kathleen smiled. “It’s okay. You’re an amazing young woman, Maggie. And if what you want is to stay in New York, then I support that.”
Maggie stuck out her bottom lip. “Thank you.”
They listened to the radio for a while until the station faded out of range.
“Aren’t you even going to mention how virtuous