A Slender Thread (7 page)

When she returned, Lacey was explaining the project to Kate with noticeable care. “The little kids have nothing to do after school. I'm trying to get companies to donate supplies. We also need more . . .”

“The volunteers don't always show up,” Toni said. “Then Mom goes flying out the door at the last minute to pitch in.”

“Maybe you could recruit more volunteers,” Margot suggested.

“I've tried,” Lacey said.

“Lacey, that sounds like a wonderful project. You're so generous with your time,” Kate said.

“Too generous,” Alex said, stabbing at a piece of turkey with his fork.

Margot finished wiping up the spilled cranberry sauce. The rag was sticky in her hand. She wished Alex would back off.

When she returned to the table, Kate was still trying to smooth things out. “We've got a group of students going to the shelter in Manchester,” she said. “So far they only read to the kids and help them with their homework. Art projects are a great idea.”

“Speaking of art, what's going on in the big city?” Hugh said.

Margot was grateful to him for moving the conversation away from what was obviously a touchy subject between Alex and Lacey. “We have a new show up at the gallery,” she said. “Oliver's latest painting is pretty amazing. It takes up the entire west wall.”

“A one-man show?” Kate asked.

“Not this time,” Margot said, remembering Oliver's distress at not having any solo shows in the offing.

“Who has walls big enough for paintings that big?” Toni asked.

“It's intended for a public space.”

“Like a museum?” Hugh asked.

“That, or maybe a corporate space,” Margot said. “The drama of a large painting is that the viewer feels like he could become part of the work. It kind of envelops you—sort of like stepping into the scene.” She hoped she didn't sound didactic.

Alex had grown quiet. The knowledge of Lacey's illness seemed to be weighing him down as the evening wore on. Margot was almost afraid to look at him.

“How about more turkey?” she said, trying to keep the conversation going. She gestured to the sideboard still laden with food.

“You've got to be kidding,” Hugh said. “I've already had seconds, and though I'm seriously tempted, I'd better not get thirds.”

“Not if you want to keep showing up the fortysomethings.” Kate lifted her eyebrows as if issuing a serious warning.

“How about a walk to the ocean before pie?” Alex asked, as if suddenly aware that his low spirits were apparent.

“Just what I need,” said Hugh.

“If I don't get up now, I may not be able to later,” said Kate.

“We'll see stars,” Wink said. “It's totally clear.”

“I don't want to go,” Toni said.

“We're all going,” Alex said.

“If I stay and do the dishes, can I go out with Ryan later?” Toni asked.

“You're coming with your family,” Alex said.

Toni shrugged and gave her father a sour look.

Margot began to rise and reached for one of the empty platters. “A walk's a super idea,” she said with what she hoped wasn't false cheer. Over the next few minutes everyone carried their plates and the serving dishes into the kitchen while Lacey and Kate wrapped the leftovers.

Alex, his face closed and impenetrable, extinguished the candles while the rest of the group went off to find their coats. Margot went all the way to the third floor to get her gloves. On the way down she paused on the landing to button her coat. The hall below her was dark. She hadn't bothered to switch on the light. She heard Lacey and Alex speaking in the foyer. The others must have already started down the walk. Their voices carried up the stairs.

“You're not making this easy for me,” Lacey said.

Margot held her breath and didn't move.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“One minute you're acting like . . . everything is fine, and the next you're telling me to stop doing the things I love.” She paused. “Like I'm some kind of invalid.”

“It's not knowing what's ahead that worries me.”

“Alex, no one can count on . . . the future. We're going to go on living . . . the way we always have. There's no other choice.”

Margot's heart pounded in her ears. She heard Lacey's steps fade and the front door slam. Margot tried to steady her breathing and ran her hand along the wall in search of the switch. The light came on. She continued her descent. Alex stood alone, his back against the door.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, not bothering to pretend she hadn't heard their exchange. Alex's shoulders were hunched. He looked at her briefly, then closed his eyes.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing.” He sighed. “Nothing for now.” His voice was bitter.

“We'd better join the others,” she said. What else could they do? Gently, she placed her hand on his arm, as if to help him move forward. “Okay?”

He nodded, turned, and opened the door. They stepped out into the night.

 

Breathing in the crisp air made Margot feel more alert, better able to cope. She had been deeply shaken at seeing Alex so upset. The night was cold, but with little wind. Everyone had gathered in the road in front of the house. Alex moved away from her and joined Hugh as they began the walk to the beach. Alex, Hugh, and Toni led the way, walking the fastest, and Kate and Lacey followed arm in arm. Kate was bringing Lacey up to date on the doings of her own children. She and Hugh had had their babies early in their marriage. One son was out west helping to run a wilderness program and the other was in a graduate program in London. Neither could get home this year for Thanksgiving.

Margot and Wink gradually fell behind the others. “I want to take astronomy in college,” Wink said.

Margot looked up into the darkness. She was weary from her concerted effort to keep smiling. The clean, sharp air felt good. The moon was nearly full, and the sky was filled with stars. They, along with the lights from the houses in the neighborhood, made it easy enough to find the way along the village streets. She glanced over at Wink, who was also gazing upward as if dazzled by the sweep of stars.

Margot loved the twins equally, but she couldn't deny a special feeling of tenderness she kept for Wink. Toni had been the fussier of the two as babies, and when Margot had gone to visit, she had held Wink more often, so that Lacey could tend to Toni. The feeling of that warm little body nestled up against hers, so dear, small, and defenseless, was something she would always treasure.

“Your dad said you wanted to major in math,” she said.

“I do, but I like science, too,” Wink said. “You need math for all of it. What I love are the patterns in nature. It's amazing that there are all these invisible forces, the moon, the tides, and even when we understand it, there's nothing we can do to control it. We're all swept into the patterns.” She looked down and began to kick at some pebbles. Wink was the more serious twin, quiet, often caught up in her own daydreams. She looked like Alex, with the distinguished George nose and soft reddish brown hair. Tall and willowy, she had a less predictable prettiness than her twin sister. Toni, though not as tall, resembled their mother.

Margot remembered once being with Lacey on this very same walk when the twins were little girls. Toni and Wink must have been at least three, as they had trotted along by themselves on either side of their mother, Wink stopping to pick up a random stone and Toni with a wilted dandelion blossom squeezed in her fist. It must have been summer. Margot seemed to recall the girls wearing sundresses and sandals. Their small round feet were tanned from the long days outdoors. There was a strong breeze that afternoon and large puffy clouds tumbled across the sky.

When Toni caught sight of the low wall close to the beach, she started to run ahead, squealing with delight to be reaching their destination. Lacey hurried to catch up and bent over to scoop Toni into her arms, lifting her up toward the sky before hugging her closely to her chest. Toni's shrieks of laughter melted away as she buried her face in her mother's neck.

Margot nearly stopped breathing as she watched the two of them together. She wanted nothing more than to enter into Lacey's loving aura, to be a mother too, to be part of a family; she ached for a piece of that world. The knowledge that her life could never be like Lacey's had crept into her thoughts like a shadow, but her momentary sadness had disappeared when she felt Wink's small, warm hand slip into her own. Margot looked down at the serious eyes gazing up at her and she smiled. “Come on, little Miss Winky, let's catch up with those two. I'm going to draw pictures for you in the sand.” They skipped along together toward the beach wall, Margot keeping Wink's hand securely in hers.

Now the chill November night gave Margot a momentary shiver. A wind had come up as they neared the water. Wink stopped for a bit and turned toward her. “Do you think my parents are okay?”

Margot looked quickly at her niece. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“They don't seem very happy right now.” She resumed walking. The rest of the group was well ahead, almost to the wall at the end of the road that overlooked the ocean.

Lacey had started the tradition of night walks to the beach when the girls were very young. It had been a special treat for them to walk hand in hand with their parents, winter or summer, toward the sweep of open water at the far end of the village. Walking in the dark was not the same as walking in the daytime. It was more of an adventure, a time to reveal private thoughts, and the shadows dimming one's face made it easier to share special secrets.

“Aunt Margot,” Wink said, “don't you see a difference?”

“I haven't been here very long,” Margot said, avoiding the question. “It's going to be hard when you guys go off to college. Especially for your mom. She's used to having you around.”

“She and Toni aren't getting along now either.”

“You mean because of Ryan?”

“Mom thinks it's too serious. She and Dad argue about that. And it's weird.”

“What's weird?” Margot asked, feeling her heart quicken.

“Mom isn't like she used to be. She seems out of it sometimes. And when she gets upset it's like she can hardly speak.”

“We all do that now and then.”

“Yeah, but Dad's not the same either. They don't seem connected anymore.”

“Wink, sweetie, they probably just have a lot on their minds. We all have day-to-day worries.”

“Maybe. I think something's going on.”

“Maybe you should talk to them, share your concerns.”

“I'm not sure I can. It's so hard.”

“Your parents love each other very much. You never have to worry about that.” Margot put her arm around her niece and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring hug. She took her arm and began walking. “Come on. They'll think I'm lagging behind so I won't have to do the dishes.” Margot looked straight ahead and, once again remembering the small face gazing up into hers, thought about this lovely, serious young woman and how she would react when she knew what had come between her parents, when she knew the truth.

Margot and Wink reached the others. “Look at that moonlight reflected on the ocean.” Hugh gestured grandly at the water before them.

Wink pulled away and went to stand by her sister. They all stood silently and looked out at the ocean, vast and dark, under the roaring sound of the waves. Kate leaned against Hugh, and Alex stood behind Lacey. Her hair blew back against his coat.

Margot stood a little way from the others. She decided to try to reach Oliver as soon as they got back to the house. She wouldn't tell him all she knew yet. She'd wait until she returned to New York. Pushing her hands deeply into her pockets, she hunched her shoulders against the cold. She imagined the feel of Oliver's arms around her, his body shielding her from this wind. Even when he'd had a bad session at the studio or rambled on all evening about the lousy art market, there was always that moment at the end of the day when he would hold her, and even if his mind was elsewhere, the warmth of his body against hers made her feel safe and loved. He couldn't hold her tonight, but right now she just wanted to hear his voice.

Margot awoke in the dark on Friday morning. It had to be nearly seven, but too early for the sun to rise. In New York, she was less aware of these changes in light. There, it was the noise from the traffic that alerted her that the day was about to start. Giant garbage trucks would roar up the side streets and the clatter of the metal cans was like artillery fire in a war zone. On weekday mornings in New York, Oliver would be up early. He liked to drink coffee and read in the dawn hours. Like Margot, he was not a cook, but he adored strong black coffee and went to great trouble to buy just the right beans. Margot planned to give him the newest coffeemaker this Christmas, an all-in-one machine that even ground the beans.