Promises (33 page)

He was brainwashing the children. Naturally. Being the good guy. Go to Yosemite. Sure. Get a puppy. Drop piano lessons. Anything you want. Just ask Dad, the all-American dad.

“Julie’s always crying,” said Danny, coming into the attack. “Up at Dad’s half the time she sits there with a sad face until he makes her smile.”

“You shut up and leave me alone,” Julie shrieked, “or I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, nice,” said Megan. “Really nice. If I had any brains, I’d stay over at Betsy’s house for dinner every night.”

Nina got up. “While you’re all fighting like a pack of hyenas, I’ll get the corn. Your good mother went out in the heat and picked it for you, not that you deserve it.”

The three were immediately crestfallen. Nina’s rebuke, coming as it did from a beloved person not tremendously older than they, always had had a special effect upon them. And Margaret gave her a look of gratitude.

The air began to settle, and Megan began a conversation.

“Betsy’s sister’s having a Christmas wedding.”

Nina picked up the conversational ball. “That could be beautiful. I see red velvet bridesmaids’ dresses and white poinsettias. I love white poinsettias.”

We’re all a bundle of nerves, Margaret thought, but
we have to try, don’t we? And she, doing her part, asked whether Megan expected to be invited.

“More than that. Joan even asked me whether I’d like to be a bridesmaid.”

“That’s so nice,” exclaimed Margaret. “After all, you’re Betsy’s friend, not hers.”

“Well, let’s face it, her mother probably suggested it because she wants to do something for me. Everybody on the street feels sorry for us.”

The air in the room began to roil again.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s all that bad, Megan. I hope you accepted graciously.”

“I was gracious, Mom, but I didn’t accept.”

“You didn’t? Whyever not?”

“Because I don’t believe in weddings. I always did think they’re an extravagant show, but now I think they’re hypocritical.”

“Hypocritical?”

“Yes. Why celebrate something with all the permanent vows, so serious, so holy, when the woman’s only going to be tossed out whenever the man finds somebody he likes better? I looked at bridal finery in Danforth’s window just this week, and it made me want to puke.”

Megan’s eyes glistened, and she closed them, fighting tears. Grieving, bitter and cynical, at her age; this is what he’s done, Margaret thought.

“You mustn’t look at it that way,” she said. “Every marriage doesn’t fail.”

“Fifty percent of them do, Mom. What kind of odds are those?”

“I suppose,” Margaret said slowly, “I suppose it’s a
question of one’s point of view, whether the glass is half empty or half full.”

“And you always find it half full. I know you, Mom.”

“Speaking of glasses, how about clearing the table,” Nina suggested. “You go sit on the porch, Margaret. The rest of us will clean up the kitchen.”

Margaret did not protest. As she left the room, she overheard Nina.

“Your mother’s more exhausted than any human being should be. Now listen, everybody. You’re all pretty tired, too, whether you know it or not. You’re tired inside, in your heads, and you’re taking your bad feelings out on each other. Okay, but do it outdoors where Mom doesn’t have to hear you. She’s had enough, understand? So let’s finish the dishes and go together to watch the news or something. We’re still a family, no matter what.”

God bless Nina, thought Margaret.

“You need to get away,” Nina said one afternoon. “You need a rest and a change.”

“It’s out of the question. I can’t afford to. He”—and Nina realized that Margaret almost never called Adam by his name now—“knows I have no income of my own during the summer, and yet he’s cut his contribution. My lawyer says that’s what usually happens. It will have to be worked out either by settlement or in court. Meanwhile, I must do the best I can, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“I hope your lawyer knows his business.”

“He does. And he’s very nice, reserved, doesn’t waste words, but lets you see that he understands. I really like
him, which makes things easier. Fred did me a good turn.”

“Will you let me lend you the money so you can all go away to a lake or someplace for a few days?”

“Thank you, no. Julie sees the psychologist twice a week, and I’m only beginning all the legal business. I have more to do than I’ve ever had in all my life. People think that planning a wedding is a big job. Let me tell you, it’s a breeze compared with a divorce.”

So Keith said too.
Nina shuddered.

All of a sudden Margaret clasped her hands in a beseeching gesture.

“Tell me honestly, tell me the truth, you grew up here, where did I go wrong?”

“I never saw anything in you that could be called a real fault. But then, I never saw anything bad in Adam either.”

“There are two sides to every story. I know that, and so I keep thinking—thinking. Maybe I’m too opinionated. Am I?”

Nina smiled. “No more than Adam is—was.”

“Or did I pay too much attention to the children and neglect him?”

“I never saw it if you did.”

“I guess as long as I live I’ll keep asking myself how I failed, and I’ll never really know.”

Margaret’s rueful little smile did not fool Nina. Eyes did not have to be extra sharp to notice trembling hands and what must be ten pounds of lost weight.

“Margaret, I’m worried about you. Don’t you think you ought to see a doctor?”

“I have already. Dr. Farley says my symptoms are typical. They’re just nerves. Nerves.” Margaret tried to
laugh. “I’m thinking up a good name for this disease. How about Falling Apart Syndrome, or better still, Discarded Wives’ Syndrome? Your back aches, your skin erupts, and you can pull your hair out into your hands. Look, I’ll show you.”

“Don’t,” Nina said.

“When I wake up, I don’t at first believe what has happened. I lived half my life with him, really all of my adult life.… But what’s the use? Other people are dying of cancer while I eat my heart out here. And what about you? You’ve had an awful time. You don’t complain but I know you have. Is it getting any better for you?”

“Yes, yes, much.” And what is my hurt compared with hers? Nina asked herself.

Margaret got up and walked to the table on which the family’s photographs were arranged. “I forgot this was still here. That was a marvelous wedding dress! Isabella made all the tucks and ruching by hand. You were too young to appreciate it.”

“I remember it, though.” She gazes at it, Nina thought, like a woman holding the portrait of someone dead. And of course, that trusting bride is dead.

“Well, I’ll just pack it up in the attic with the dress in blue tissue paper. Maybe some year, a hundred years from now, one of my great-grandchildren might be curious to see what I looked like.” Then, saying quickly, “I don’t want the soup to boil over,” she sped into the kitchen.

Nina went to the telephone. When in need, you called Fred.

“I took a chance that you might be home,” she said.
“Tell me truthfully, are you doing anything urgent this afternoon?”

“Going to the club for a swim. In this heat I call that urgent. Actually, I sent everyone home before anyone keeled over.”

“Do you think you might take Margaret’s kids with you? They’re all out on errands now, but they’ll be home any minute. And for her sake I’d love to get them out of the house. I never thought I’d hear myself say that, but I’ll tell you, I don’t recognize in them the nice, easygoing kids they used to be. All they do is bicker and scream at one another.”

“I’ll be right over. How is she today?”

“Trying hard to live as if nothing has changed. You know her.”

“Yes. Yes, I know her. Nina, when you leave again, don’t worry. I’m here for Margaret.”

“Thank you, Fred.”

Now, there’s a natural solution for the rest of Margaret’s life, she thought. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that he adores her.

Margaret was in the kitchen shelling peas for the vegetable soup when Nina went in.

“That was Fred, inviting Danny and the girls to swim at his club. That’ll take care of a hot day for them.”

“He called? I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

“No? Here, let me do some of those peas.”

“Thanks. I have enough for now.”

Margaret stood up, grasped the chair back, and sat down heavily, sighing. “It’s my darn back. It acts like this sometimes. I can’t get up after I’ve been sitting for a while. Don’t look so alarmed. The body plays tricks when you’re tense, that’s all.”

“You’re too controlled. You haven’t once let yourself go since this happened. In the first place, you felt ashamed, and in the second, you haven’t wanted to alarm your children.”

“What do you mean, ‘let yourself go’?”

“Scream and cry. Just howl. You’re grieving, you’re frustrated because you want revenge, but you can’t get it because there is none. So go up and howl. Nobody’s here but me, and I don’t mind. I’ll put cotton in my ears if you want me to. I know you think it’s a crazy idea, but—”

Margaret struggled up and walked gingerly across the room. “No,” she said. “It’s rather a good idea. I think I’ll go to the attic and try it.”

Nina lay down on the sofa, propped on an elbow to read. She was just beginning to drowse in the heat when she heard the sounds of human anguish carried down through the floors and walls, the very bones of the old house. She got up to listen at the foot of the stairs. Once, on a Scout’s hike through the woods, she had heard the shrieks and moans of an animal caught in a trap, and had never forgotten the horror. Now in these human sobs was the same intimation of despair. And she remembered, too, that Margaret had once said of Adam: “The thought of his death is enough to stop my heart.” If she could only hate him the way I do now, Nina thought, there would be an end to this suffering. Unfortunately, she loves him.…

After a while the sounds ceased. Margaret must have fallen asleep.

Sometime later Megan came in flourishing a magazine. “Nina! A lady at the club gave this to me because you’re in it. Did you know you were in it?”

There it was, spread out in lustrous color, the Florida pink house, on four pages of “strikingly original rooms designed by Nina Keller of Crozier and Dexter.”

“I didn’t expect it to be on the stands this soon.”

“You never said a word about it!”

Nina smiled. “I had other things to think about.”

Indeed, she had them still. Those views of Florida, those vivid pages, brought with them a stream of images: the dinner by candlelight, the Spanish bed, the kisses, the lies, the perfidy.…

“Does this mean you’re famous?” asked Danny.

“It means that I’ve worked hard and that I’ve been lucky. Both.”

Julie asked, “Aren’t you proud?”

“No, I’m grateful.”

“Grateful for what?” inquired Margaret.

In a fresh plaid cotton dress with fresh lipstick and a little black bow at the nape of her neck, she seemed, if not rested, at least as if she
cared.

“She’s famous,” Danny declared. “She says she isn’t, Mom, but she’s got to be. See? Here’s her name.”

After they all crowded around Nina to read the article over her shoulder, and when the two women were left by themselves, Margaret said softly, “I am just so proud of you. But I’m not surprised.”

“Never mind about me. The question is, did it do you any good?”

“Yes, some of the knots have come untwisted. But I worry about you.”

“I’m okay, not as much sad anymore as angry. Damned angry.”

“I wish I could help you.”

“Just being here has helped me.”

“The lame and the halt,” Margaret said, and they both laughed.

“I have to leave on Thursday. I wish I could stay, but they’ve already given me two extra weeks, and I can’t ask for more.”

“Of course not. Go on up and start your packing.”

From her window Nina looked out at the familiar place. It would be a long time before she would return here to stay for more than two or three days. And so, with mingled feelings, she stood watching this afternoon play itself out. The girls were washing the car and quarreling over the suds; Danny was pushing the hand mower across a square of dry brown grass. The dog slept in his usual spot under the oak. And over all this homely scene there lay a subtle desolation.

And she thought with sorrow of the upward climb that, for all of Margaret’s determined courage, lay ahead of her. The discarded wife, mother of children, and the unencumbered single woman with all her choices, even with her lingering anger, were very different. Both of them knew it, and would feel it as they embraced and parted.

I
t was good to be back home in her own apartment. Clearly, Elmsford, for all its warmth, was to be always a place for return and welcome respite, but no longer her home. She had outgrown it.

The answering machine bore so many messages that the tape was filled. After opening the windows to all the street noises that over the years Nina had actually come to find companionable, she sat down to listen to her messages. Most of them were routine. Then, suddenly, Keith’s voice jolted her.