Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [32]
Now Aunt Kitty gave an exuberant wave and Paul instinctually waved back. It was a normal reaction when you were in a suburban kitchen on a Sunday night and a little gray-haired lady was smiling at you through the window, but Alice hissed, “Paul, don’t look at them! Pretend we’re not in here.”
Paul chuckled, and then, seeing the serious look on Alice’s face, he turned to Kathleen, confused.
“Mom, they can see us,” Kathleen said, not looking up.
“Be quiet and they’ll go away,” Alice whispered. “You don’t show up at someone’s door at dinnertime unannounced.”
In fact, their relatives did this all the time, but now Alice had something against Kitty, and she couldn’t let it drop.
“Who are they?” Paul asked in a hushed voice.
“My brother and his wretched wife,” Alice said. “Don’t worry, they’ll get the hint.”
They looked down at their plates and kept eating. Kitty knocked harder, as if they might not be able to hear from just a few feet away. She jiggled the doorknob, but it was locked.
“Jesus, Alice, enough already,” Daniel said finally. He rose from his chair and went to the door, ushering them inside.
“Hey, you two,” he said in his usual cheerful tone. “Hungry? It’s spaghetti night.”
“Gosh no, we wouldn’t want to impose!” Kitty said.
“Sure you would,” Alice said tartly. “But knowing me, there won’t be enough.”
“That’s my Alice, always a lady,” said Kathleen’s uncle Tim. “How about a beer?”
Alice didn’t move to get him one, so Uncle Timmy opened the fridge himself and pulled out a Schlitz. He was a funny, kindhearted guy, a lot like Kathleen’s dad. He had once told Kathleen that he was the one who introduced Daniel and Alice, back during World War II.
“We were visiting with Kitty’s cousins a few blocks over and thought we’d stop in and say hi,” he said. “And don’t worry, because they fed us and we’re full to the gills.”
“Good, because as you can see, we have company,” Alice said.
Timmy raised an eyebrow. “Kathleen and her boyfriend qualify as company?” he said.
Alice still hadn’t risen from her chair.
“Daniel, I didn’t slave over that stove so you could eat cold food,” she said. “Sit down!”
He sat.
Paul drank several beers at dinner. Kathleen couldn’t blame him. On the drive home that night, he said, “Honey, I love you, but I am scared shitless of your mother.”
Any other girl might have been insulted, but Kathleen felt drawn to him more than ever in that moment. It was so easy for Alice to fool people—most strangers thought she was simply delightful because she was pretty, larger than life. But Paul knew better right away.
“Please promise me you’re not gonna become her,” he said.
“Jesus, I promise,” she had said. “If I do, you’re completely within your rights to kill me.”
Ann Marie
Ann Marie was up early, even before the alarm. The room was silent, and through the sheer curtains, she could see that the streetlights were still on. She looked at the clock on the nightstand: five fifteen. Her whole body fluttered with excitement. She closed her eyes tightly, thinking of children on Christmas morning.
She got to her feet and slid into her slippers and robe. There was a lot to do before she left, so she had better hop to it. She had vacuumed all the carpets before she went to bed, and emptied the dishwasher. She usually gave the whole house a good cleaning on Sundays. But today she would be away until late afternoon at least.
It was finally June second. All spring she had been counting down the days until the Wellbright Miniatures Fair. For the first time in twenty-five years, the English festival was coming across the Atlantic for a United States tour, beginning right here in Boston. She had been reading online about the different exhibitors for