South of Superior - Ellen Airgood [123]
Back at the hotel, Madeline put Greyson to bed and then wished she had his company. She stood in the sitting room studying a painting she’d been working on, the lake framed in the attic window. She’d been trying to show just enough of the room to give its flavor, plain and austere, then outside that vast expanse of water. That was life, right? That juxtaposition of in and out, home and nature, tame and wild. She had no idea whether it was good or not. She was sick of questioning it. It was what it was. Paint on canvas.
She stretched out on the sofa and pulled an afghan (a housewarming gift from Arbutus) over her legs. Moonlight fell through the window, and she watched it as if it were a visitor, a companion. She remembered something Mary Feather had said one day. What you have to do here, is accept. She thought of Stone Lake. Dried Up, the long grasses waving in the wind. She had wanted water there. But she’d accepted no water, and felt the beauty of it.
She thought of Jackie Stone, a wild, troubled girl who threw herself out Upon the world and was devoured by it. She’d died in Denver, Colorado, when Madeline was seven. The police said it was heart failure, probably brought on by drugs and hard living. Emmy didn’t tell her Until she was older.
After a long time, Madeline closed her eyes. Eventually she slept.
A few hours later she woke Up to a presence beside her—who? Oh, Gladys. Perched on the edge of the couch. Madeline rubbed her face, scooted into a sitting position. “What’s wrong?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.” Madeline rubbed her eyes, still confused. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Gladys patted her hand, and then held it. “I came to say I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t know what to tell you about Joe, or Jackie. I don’t like to bring Up a lot of bad old history, I guess.”
Madeline listened as Gladys talked. Joe Stone had a lot of responsibility young. That wasn’t unusual, in this place, in that time. Maybe it made him a little hard, but it also enabled him to survive. He worked in the woods, helped look after his mother and Walter, got married, had a child. His wife ran off when the child was young, and Joe did the best he could to look after her, but the girl grew Up wild.
Maybe it was in her genes, maybe it was because her father didn’t know what to do with her, maybe it was the times, but either way, Jackie was out of control. She did all kinds of things Joe didn’t want her to do. Worst of all, she was horrible to Walter. Also, she ran around with men. The two of them fought morning, noon, and night. Even so, when Jackie got pregnant it wasn’t the last straw. “I think he was delighted with you. It was before my day, but I got that feeling, the little we talked about it.”
“Why did she leave?”
“He never said. It could have been anything. But it was the last straw. It may not seem so to you, but he tried in his own way to do the right thing by her, over and over. And that last time, he just said no. It wasn’t something he talked about. But I knew Joe. She broke his heart. That last time he closed the door.”
“But I was a child. It could’ve been horrible. It’s a miracle it wasn’t.”
“I know. He should have tried to take you. I always thought he should. It bothered me so—but he would not budge. A man like Joe doesn’t change his mind. And I wasn’t family. There wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.” Gladys’s voice had turned fretful, defensive. Uncertain. That was so Unexpected that Madeline couldn’t think how to respond.
“You sent all those cards,” she said after a moment.
“That was nothing.”
“It was decent of you.”
“It only seemed right. But it seemed like nothing too. Ridiculous. A Band-Aid on a severed limb.”
“I wonder why he was so afraid of me. A little kid.”
Gladys worked her fingers in the crochet-work of the blanket Arbutus had made. “I think he was terrified of having it happen all over again. And a man like Joe doesn’t admit being scared of anything.