A Slender Thread (30 page)

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Authors: Katharine Davis

BOOK: A Slender Thread
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“I'm sorry, Mags.” Oliver felt bad for Alex. The death of a parent was always hard, and a troubled teenage daughter was not what Alex needed right now. He remembered that volatile stage with Jenna.
“I need to book a flight.”
“You want to fly back?”
“Alex is dealing with this work crisis.”
“He expects you to fly across the country?” Oliver was furious.
“He didn't know I was out here. He wants me to see what's going on with Toni and to be there for Wink until he can get home.”
“Why doesn't he tell Lacey?”
“I guess he's afraid of upsetting her.”
“She's his wife, for God's sake.”
“But she's not well.”
“So he's telling you?”
Margot said nothing, as if trying to make sense of his argument.
“I hope you explained you were in California,” he went on.
“I told him I'd come.”
“What?”
“I didn't think.”
“I'll say you didn't think.”
“Oliver, I want to be able to help the girls. I really should go home.”
“Home?” The pain in his back was stronger. “So Lacey's house is home.”
“That's not what I mean.”
“Mags, this is our vacation. We have plans.”
“Alex was really upset. He's worried about Lacey. Stress only makes her worse.”
“Alex calls and you jump?” He slapped his hand down on the bed. His breath was coming faster.
“How can you think that?” She stood and moved away from him.
“Come on, Mags. I'm sorry about his mom,” he said, trying to regain his calm. “Toni's having some kind of boyfriend trouble. She'll get over it. Besides, it's their family. They'll be able to manage. You can go up for the service. I'm sure it won't be until after we get home.”
“You don't understand.”
“I know you want to help. I just don't think you need to be involved right now.”
“I'm already involved. This is my family.”
“It's Alex's family. His mother. His daughters. Remember?” Oliver recalled his fights with his ex-wife, Linda. Was he out of line? Was he acting like a shit?
“I came out here for your show,” she said. “I was here for you. But I think Toni might need me. You told me when Lacey got sick, I should think about her children and what I could do for them.” She hugged her arms to her body. “Oliver, I really think I should go.” She looked suddenly small to him and unhappy. “We'll have the rest of the summer.”
Oliver reached for his clothes and started to dress. “So you think you can fly in and fix everything?” He yanked on his pants, then his shirt.
“I think I have to try.”
“I don't want you to go.” His fingers fumbled with the buttons. “We were off to such a great start. We need to think about us for a change.”
Margot's voice grew louder. “I am. You know that. I'm willing to rearrange my whole summer for us.”
He continued to dress. “I'm worried.”
“About what?”
He didn't know exactly. He just knew the entire day seemed to be fizzling before his eyes. “Go ahead and get ready for dinner. I'm going out for a walk.” He grabbed his coat and left the room.
The fog had come up and the city was covered in a fine, damp mist. He started down the hill toward the marina. His stomach had tightened into a knot. Was he asking too much of Margot? Linda had accused him of putting art before his family. He would fire back, “You've got to understand. I'm an artist. First and foremost.” Selfish. He had been selfish saying that.
Was he being selfish in wanting Margot to himself? Did some part of her always have to be caught up with Lacey? Or with Alex? He strode on through the night. Seagulls screamed and soared above his head as he drew closer to the water.
 
Big mistake. Not a mistake. Yes, a mistake. Not a mistake. A mistake. Margot watched the luggage on the conveyor belt at Logan Airport, designating each item the way she used to pull off daisy petals—he loves me, he loves me not. She glanced at her watch. The bus for Portsmouth came in ten minutes. If she missed it she would have to wait another hour for the next one. A lumpy brown duffel went by. Not a mistake. A red plaid suitcase, three black suitcases.
Oliver had stayed in San Francisco to complete the week. He had changed her ticket, sending her to Boston to see Lacey and her family. The luggage continued past her feet. Wink was going to meet her bus in Portsmouth. She had told her mom that Margot was coming to help with the funeral. Lacey was still unaware of anything going on with Toni. Wink had said that Toni hadn't come home at all last night and that it was getting harder to cover for her sister.
“I know I'm a traitor for ratting on her,” Wink had said, “but if Mom were to find out, she'd have a breakdown or something.”
Oliver felt it was wrong to keep Toni's troubles from Lacey. When he put Margot in the cab to go to the airport in San Francisco, he'd told her again he thought she was making a mistake.
At this point Margot felt physically sick. She took a swig of water from the bottle in her tote bag. Her mouth was sour from the diet soft drink and a bag of chips, all she had eaten on the nearly six-hour flight. The movie on board had been some goofy comedy and she had been unable to concentrate on her book. Mostly she had closed her eyes and thought of Oliver. The sight of him walking into the hotel without her as her taxi pulled away, his shoulders slumped and the back of his head with clumps of hair still messed from a fitful sleep, tore at her heart. What was she doing? Yet Wink's voice had been so relieved when Margot told her she was coming and that she would agree to talk to Toni and figure out what was going on. More suitcases passed by. A large brown bag, another black one. A mistake, not a mistake. The carousel was temporarily empty. Another round of luggage passed down the chute. Her gray duffel bag appeared next.
14
Spinster: A woman employed at spinning.
M
argot blinked. The book she had been reading had slipped to the living room floor. She must have dozed off. Someone was in the kitchen. Had she heard voices? She pushed her feet into her shoes and stood. The room was chilly. Now fully awake, she was aware of a muffled sound. She started toward the kitchen. Her clothes were rumpled and her mouth felt dry. Beyond the dark dining room, she saw a dim light coming from under the kitchen door. Finally, Toni was home.
Lacey had gone up to bed not long after dinner. She had been busy all day making plans for Alex's mother's funeral. Edith George had treated Lacey like a daughter and Margot could see that Lacey was affected deeply by her death. Lacey's speech seemed more fragmented than Margot remembered, and maybe in an effort to compensate, she spoke less. Margot could understand Wink's concern. Lacey, always so strong, seemed to have become more fragile since the last time they were together.
That afternoon, when Wink had met Margot at the bus, she filled Margot in on her sister's unusual behavior, explaining that Toni had been sneaking out to see Ryan almost every night for the past few weeks. What worried Wink was that Toni had become so secretive. She no longer told her what they did or where they went; instead she came home with an odd, closed smile, saying that things were good, really good, promising that she'd be able to say more soon. A few days ago, though, she had started acting touchy and strange. She was going to meet Ryan that evening, having told their mother she was going to be with friends to plan a camping trip following graduation. She had pulled Wink aside to assure her that she wouldn't be very late.
“You don't think they're planning to run away, do you?” Wink asked Margot as she drove toward New Castle. “Nobody does that anymore, do they? I mean, she can sleep with him if she wants. That's their business. I don't care about that. I just don't want Toni to do anything that would upset Mom.”
“Your mom must know something's up,” Margot said.
“Are you kidding? Toni's an incredible actress when she needs to be.”
Wink crossed the bridge into New Castle. Spring was not a generous season in New England. Though it was the end of May, a gray drizzle, not quite rain, hung in the air. This kind of dank weather could linger for weeks, Margot knew. Wink wore a jean jacket and a dark green scarf knotted at her neck. Her hands, holding the wheel tightly, looked chapped from no longer wearing winter gloves. “Mom's so sad about Gram,” she added softly. “You'd think it was her own mother who died.”
“I'll try to find out what's going on with Toni,” Margot said, though her greatest concern was always Lacey. Edith George's death could only remind Lacey of her own mortality—one form of brain disease could not be much different from another.
“I feel better just knowing you're here, Aunt Margot. I mean, in case Mom gets upset or something.”
Well, now was her chance to help. Margot walked quietly to the kitchen. As she expected, it was Toni. She sat slumped at the kitchen table, her head in her hands, a glass in front of her. It was two thirty in the morning.
“Toni?” Margot said.
“Aunt Margot, you're here.” Her face was pale and drawn, with deep circles beneath her eyes. “Gram's funeral isn't until this weekend.”
“I came to help your mom.” She glanced at Toni's drink.
“It's just O.J. I thought about getting wasted, but what good would that do?”
“What's wrong, honey? Wink's been worried about you.”
“She doesn't have to worry any longer.” She let out a deep sob.
“What do you mean?” Margot asked, taking in Toni's swollen eyes and blotched skin. “She said you've been spending a lot of time with Ryan.”
“Oh, God.” She covered her eyes with her hands.
Margot moved closer to Toni and put her arm around her. “What is it, sweetie? You can tell me.” She was suddenly aware that these were not mere childhood tears, but something more troubling.
“Ryan's going to Africa this summer. Ghana.” Her back shook with sobs.
“And that makes you sad?” Margot asked, trying to inquire gently, not wanting to upset her niece further.
“I was supposed to go with him. Then a few days ago everything changed. We had been making plans.”
“To do what?”
“He's going to work for some peace group. A volunteer job. He wants to help people.”
“And you wanted to go too?”
Toni sat up and pulled away. She nodded and wiped away the tears on her face. “But now he doesn't want me to come. I don't get it. We've been together for weeks, figuring it out.”
“A summer goes by quickly, Toni. You'd be surprised. He'll be back in the fall, won't he?”
“He's changed his mind. He's decided he wants to go for six months, maybe a year.”
“I see,” Margo said.
“Tonight he said it would be better for us to stop seeing each other. He thinks we're too serious. He gave me all this crap—like I'm too young, we'll be too far apart, he's not sure of the future. It's just so cheesy.”
“Well, at least he's being honest with you.”
Toni shot Margot a traitorous look. “How can you say that? I love him. Don't you understand?” She lowered her head and continued to cry.
“I know it's hard, sweetie.” Margot sighed. “Believe me, I know.” She thought back to her own ancient hurts, but was at a loss when it came to easing Toni's pain.
Toni straightened. Her voice took on an angry edge. “He wants to take the whole year off and come back and finish his degree later. He said we should go our separate ways.”
Margot thought Ryan's plans sounded reasonable. Toni would be in New York in the fall. He couldn't be expected to wait around for her, to carry on their relationship at such a distance. But Toni would not want to hear that.
Tears covered her niece's cheeks. She wiped them with the back of her hand.
“Do you want me to make you some tea?” Margot asked, knowing the minute she said it how useless a gesture it was.
Toni shook her head.
“He isn't leaving right away, is he?” Margot asked, trying to offer a bit of hope.
“Another month. But he says it would be easier if we end it now. Do you believe that? I find out my mother's sick, my grandmother dies, and now this. I wanted him to come to graduation. We had this trip all planned.” She began to weep once again, heaving anguished sobs that she couldn't seem to control.
“Don't forget the trip to Italy that your dad's planned.” Margot placed her hand tentatively on Toni's shoulder.
“I don't care about that.”
“Maybe not now. You have to give it time.” Margot moved her hand across Toni's back, saying over and over how sorry she was. She couldn't think of what more to do. She knew too well the misery of being left, how it felt to be rejected, to no longer matter to the person you cared about.
The overhead light came on. Lacey stood in the doorway. Without hesitating, Toni went to her mother, who took her into her arms. Lacey seemed to know instinctively what had happened. “Lamb, lamb,” she crooned, her arms tight around her daughter. In the next few minutes Toni's sobs faded to a quiet keening, her body clinging to her mother, as if Lacey were the only one who could make it all right.
“Mommy,” Toni said through her tears. “It hurts. Mommy, it hurts.”
“I know, lamb. I know.” Lacey looked over at Margot and gave a sad smile before ushering Toni into the hall and leading her slowly up the stairs.

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