Acts of God (19 page)

My father was sitting in the living room. He had one arm draped across the sofa, feet resting on the coffee table as if he lived there. Suddenly he jumped to his feet. “Tessie,” he said, “you're all wet. Did you get caught in the storm?” He was up, patting my hair. “Clarice wanted help with her insurance,” he said, drying me off with his hand. “But I think we're about finished now, aren't we?”

Clarice nodded her head, smiling at me. “Would you like some cookies, Tess? Would you like a dry shirt?”

I was thinking about what day it was. How it was Thursday afternoon. It was early for him to be in Winonah. My father wasn't due home until suppertime. “Come on, Tessie,” he said, putting his arm firmly around my shoulder, “I'll drive you home.”

In the car my father tapped his fingers nervously on the wheel. He drove north toward the high school, taking the long way around. We drove in silence until he turned to me with his gray eyes and said, “Listen, no point mentioning this to your mother. You know how she is.” Actually, I didn't know how she was but then he reached across, patting me on the arm. “Let's just keep it between you and me, okay, pal?”

“Sure, Dad, no problem.”

“That's my Squirrel,” he said, landing a fake punch on my jaw. As we drove home, I felt a sour feeling in my stomach, as if I'd eaten something that had gone bad. But it didn't bother me as much as it should have because now I had something the other girls had. I had a secret too.

23

I'm not sure what I
looked like with a half-frozen dog in my arms as I made my way into the small courtyard and rang the bell. I waited, but no one came. I thought I would freeze on their doorstep when at last I heard footsteps coming slowly to the door. The door was opened and a girl stood there.

She was perhaps nine or ten and she looked as glum as any child I'd ever seen. She had dark circles under her eyes, as she had in the picture Nick had showed me, and her hair was a stringy mess. At first I thought she was ill or even disabled, but she spoke in a clear, distinct voice, a little old for her years. “May I help you?”

“Yes, is your mother home?”

The girl hesitated. Then she shook her head. “No, she went to the store.”

“Well, could I use your bathroom and your phone? We've had a small accident. The dog is very cold and so am I.”

The child hesitated again but it didn't seem as if she was afraid to let a stranger into the house. I felt more as if I was intruding on her, imposing on her solitude. As if she was busy with something and didn't want to be disturbed. But what solitude could a child need at this age? I had no idea, but I asked once again. “I just have to make a phone call. We've been trapped in the ravines. And if I could use the bathroom…”

Looking somewhat annoyed, she flung the door open. “Do you have a towel? So I can wrap the dog?” The girl left and came back with a red and blue beach towel with a giant bear on it. I took off my boots and my feet burned.

“Okay.” I turned to the girl. “My name is Tess. I went to school with your parents and I need to use the phone.” She looked at me as if I were from Mars and then pointed to a powder room in the hallway and into the kitchen for the phone. “Are you home alone?” She nodded, then disappeared into the back of the house.

I went into the bathroom first, where I thought I'd burst. It was all pink with a powdery smell, fluffy pink towels just for guests. I could barely get my fingers to work as I unzipped my pants. The toilet seat was cold and the hot stream of urine that seemed to go on forever burned my thighs. Then I ran my hands under hot water for a long time.

When I came out, the girl was nowhere to be seen so I made my way into the kitchen for the phone. The kitchen was messy, dishes piled in the sink, but there was lots of counter space. Shiny copper pots that hung overhead looked as if they'd never been used. I didn't have Vicky's work number with me and tried to remember the name of the travel agency she worked for, but couldn't. There were North Shore Yellow Pages tucked under the phone, so I looked under “Travel.” Six were listed in the area. I phoned the first one but Vicky didn't work there. I tried another number and she didn't work there either. I was still shivering, my teeth chattering, and I decided to warm up before I tried again.

I walked in my stocking feet into the sunken living room. The house was a sprawling white ranch with lots of windows and wings jutting off. A small Japanese courtyard opened onto the living room. The large picture window of the living room looked over the lake.

The living room was furnished impeccably in whites and grays, but it was oddly devoid of personal possessions. There were no pictures, no mementos, except for one picture of Nick's father, a football he was about to hurl held in his hand, eyes set dead ahead. Except for that picture, the living room looked as if it were about to be photographed for
Architectural Digest,
not a place where people actually lived.

I couldn't help but think how far Margaret had come from that apartment above Santini's Liquor and that she had accomplished exactly what she'd set out to do. It's true I lived in a house by the sea, but it was on a spit of questionable terrain, badly in need of repairs, and I was barely making ends meet as it was. Part of me was filled with envy. And part of me was filled with surprise. I couldn't imagine how Margaret Blair had come this far.

I was standing in her living room in my stocking feet and Vicky's dog lying on a beach towel in the entranceway when Margaret came walking in. She was dressed in black stretch pants, a bulky red sweater, a small parcel in her arms. Her high black leather boots with stiletto heels clicked on the marble. Thick eyeliner rimmed her eyes. She moved stiffly, like a toy soldier, crossing the room. I wondered if she had been drinking.

She saw me before she was entirely in the door and, dropping her parcel, she ran to me. “Tess, my God, what are you doing here? And whose dog is this?” She looked at Liberty, curled up asleep on the beach towel.

“It's a long story. I had a little accident down in the ravines. Got down but I couldn't get up.”

“The ravines? I haven't been down there in years.” She gave me a look. “You did?” Her daughter stood in the doorway now and gave a little shrug. “It's okay, Danielle,” her mother said. “This is an old friend.”

“It's Vicky's dog,” I said.

“Oh, Vicky's.” Margaret took this all in, trying to understand what I was doing with someone else's dog. Suddenly I felt very tired and my head hurt. I was shivering, my teeth chattering.

“I'm staying with her. We took a walk. Look, I need to call Vicky and tell her where I am. Or maybe you could drive me back there.”

Margaret took me by the hand, leading me to a chair in her sunken living room. “Tess, you're frozen. Why don't you have something hot? Or better yet, take a hot bath.”

A hot bath did sound tempting, but I thought I should get going. “No, really—”

“Look, I'll call Vicky. You take a bath. I'll let her know you're here and she can pick you up after work.” That sounded to me like a reasonable plan, not one to put anyone out, so I agreed. Margaret opened a closet and took out a fluffy white towel, a terry-cloth robe. She led me down to the master bedroom, a huge room with a giant, king-size bed and clothes scattered everywhere. “Oh, such a mess,” Margaret said, picking up some dirty socks and looking at them as if she had no idea what to do with them. “The maid comes tomorrow.”

“Oh, don't worry about it,” I said.

“You did the right thing, coming here,” she said.

She led me into a large, white-tiled bathroom that was the size of my kitchen. It was complete with Jacuzzi tub, bidet, glass shower, and heat lamp. Margaret started the tub, which I noticed had a ring around it. I thought Margaret might make an attempt to clean it out, but instead she just poured in a green liquid, made a thick bubbly foam. She sprayed the air with eucalyptus. “Here, you just relax. When you come out, I'll have some tea and something for us to eat. Then Vicky can come and get you.”

When Margaret left, I slipped out of my robe and stood for a moment in front of her mirror. I wondered how often Margaret had stood in front of this mirror, admiring herself. Her long, lanky legs, her thick black hair. Now I gazed at my small but taut breasts, my firm thighs, my skin.

How many times had Nick stood in this bathroom watching her soak in this tub? Had they bathed together? Did he rub soap all over her body in here? I didn't want to think of this, not really, as I slipped in. The hot water stung my freezing feet. My body sank in, burning. Sweat broke out on my brow. I lay in the water, my eyes closed, and soaked for a long time in the steamy water. It seemed inevitable, somehow, that I was here.

Perhaps half an hour later I wrapped myself in the robe and made my way to the kitchen, where Margaret sat sipping tea. “All right,” she said, “it's all set. Nick's on his way home. He's thrilled you're here. I talked to Vicky and you'll both have dinner with us.”

“Oh, we don't want to impose.…”

She flicked her hair, waved her hand away. “Oh, please, you're not imposing. We want you to stay. Nick's going to pick up some wine and some food.”

“Really, I should get going.”

But Margaret waved away my protests. “Please just relax. Have dinner with us.”

I thought perhaps she'd offer me something to drink, but she didn't. I sat down in my robe, moving an empty coffee cup out of the way. “Your place is beautiful.”

“Oh, we've been lucky.”

“This doesn't look like luck to me. It looks like hard work.”

Margaret nodded, turning away. “Yes, I suppose it is. Nick's done all right, you know, with his father's business.”

“Yes, I can see that he has.”

“He's been able to do some development. He's got an idea for a resort somewhere. Fiji or something? I'm not sure. Ask him.”

“Yes, I will.” I was struck by how much I wanted to ask her. Over all these years I'd never really known. I thought to myself I should confront her. What about my father? I wanted to say. I'd always wanted to ask her, but never had. Was it really true and had she always known? Had she known even before we became blood sisters? Had she'd known but hadn't told? Was that her big secret? The one she'd kept from me all these years?

I was gathering up my nerve to ask her when a car pulled into the driveway. There was a screech of brakes that made Margaret wince. The car door slammed and moments later Nick walked in in a blue parka, arms loaded with groceries. He kicked the door open with his foot and a cold breeze swept into the room. “Tessie,” he said, putting the groceries down on the counter, sweeping me up into his arms. “Are you all right? You aren't frostbitten anywhere, are you?”

“Yes, I'm fine. It was a stupid accident.” He was examining my fingertips, my nose.

“But why did you go into the ravines? You could have been hurt. People have frozen—”

“Can't you see, Nick?” Margaret said flatly. “She's fine.”

“Well, thank God for that.” He hugged me and I found myself lost in the down of his parka, the tug of his arms, and the smell of chicken. I had to wrench myself away.

“Here,” he said to Margaret, pointing to the bags, “I brought some things.” When she opened the refrigerator to put the beer and soda away, I saw that it was almost empty. “Are you warm enough now?”

“I had a bath. Really, this is so embarrassing.…” I excused myself, slipped away to get dressed, thinking it odd that there seemed to be no food except for what Nick had brought in.

When I got dressed and returned to the kitchen, Vicky was there. She had arrived just as it started to snow. Not terribly big flakes, just a dusting, but it seemed to be coming harder and faster as the wind picked up off the lake. When she walked in the door, Liberty leaped from the corner where he'd been lying all afternoon and practically into her arms. “My God,” she said, stomping in, covered in white snow dust. “Tess, what happened to you?”

“Oh, it was a dumb thing. I took a walk. It was cold, I went into the ravines. Then I couldn't get out.”

Nick shook his head. “I'm so glad you're all right.”

“I thought you were Miss Out-of-Doors,” Vicky said.

“I haven't been in ice for a while.”

“How about on ice?” Nick asked, holding up the bourbon.

“Sure,” Vicky said. “Tess?”

“Why don't you just stay?” Margaret said, all bubbly now. “Why don't we have a good time? Can't we do that, Nicky? Have a good time. Let's make dinner. What did you bring? It's snowing; you may as well stay for a bite. Nick, you'll get them drinks, won't you?”

Nick was unpacking groceries. He put down the precooked chicken, a head of iceberg lettuce, a pound of spaghetti. “Of course. I've got some spaghetti sauce I made the other day.”

“I didn't know you were a cook.”

“There's lots you don't know about me,” he said with a wink. “You'll be surprised. I'll make you a wonderful meal.” Margaret disappeared inside the house, then returned, dressed in a blue silk shirt with black velvet stretch pants, gold earrings. Nick poured a good-sized bourbon for each of us. Large tumblers where the ice clinked. Margaret passed them around and we toasted. “To old friends,” she said, taking a sip. “Oh, this is nice.” She reached over for Nick, gave his arm a squeeze.

He pulled back, gazing around. “Where's Danielle? Where's my little Danielle?”

“Oh.” Margaret took another sip. “In her room, somewhere. She's been a grumpy girl all day.”

Nick frowned. “Well, don't you think we should ask her to join us?”

“I thought since we hadn't seen one another—the girls, I mean—in so long, it might be nice, just for once—”