A Tangled Web (13 page)

She sighed, a little ashamed of her fantasy, and settled deeper into Garth's arms as the car headed north to Evanston, and the snowflakes streamed past the window, blotting out the lights of the city and the rest of the world.

*  *  *

“Sounds like a fishy evening to me,” Cliff said and guffawed as he poured a small pond of syrup over his waffle.

“It sounds like fun,” Penny said wistfully. “Like, if nobody talked to you, you could look at the fish and they'd keep you company.”

Sabrina gave her a swift glance. “Has that happened lately? People not talking to you?”

“Oh, sometimes. You know.”

“No, I don't know,” Garth said. “You and Barbara were best friends, I thought. What's going on, Penny?”

“Nothing.” Penny looked at her plate. “It was just, you know, I was just thinking about the fish.”

Cliff stuffed waffle into his mouth. “A lot of your friends look sort of like fish; you know, mouths going all the time, and staring at you like they're looking for dinner.”

“They're not like that!” Penny cried. Tears appeared in her eyes. “They're my friends.”

“I thought you just said they don't talk to you.”

“They do! It's just . . .”

“Okay,” Sabrina said, “I think we've talked enough
about Penny's friends. Maybe Penny and I can talk about them later, by ourselves.”

Trouble here, she thought as Penny threw her a quick, grateful glance, but we'll take care of it. Whatever it is, it hasn't been around long enough to become deep-rooted or I would have heard of it.

She watched Cliff spear a piece of waffle on his fork and swirl it around his plate, making figure eights through the pool of syrup. He looked absorbed, but something about the tilt of his head told her he was listening. He's waiting for us to say something, she thought. About what? About last night?

“It
was
fun,” she said. “Everybody said it was the best place to have a party because it was so different, even a little mysterious. You know how they keep the rooms dark so the fish tanks show up better; it's probably the only university party where people were in the dark.”

Garth smiled. “Some people say academics are always in the dark.”

“Not the academic in this family,” Sabrina said.

“Was what's-his-name there?” Cliff asked. His voice was casual, but Sabrina saw his grip on his fork.

“What's-his-name?” Garth echoed.

“You know, Lun or Lon or Loony or whatever.”

“
Lu,
” Penny said. “Lu Zhen. He's only been here for dinner a hundred times.”

“Six or seven,” Sabrina said. “And you do know his name.”

“
Was
he there?” Cliff asked Garth.

“No. There weren't any students. Would it make a difference if he had been?”

Cliff shrugged.

“You're jealous,” Penny said.

“I'm not! I just was
wondering
; you don't have to make a big deal out of it.”

“More waffles?” Sabrina asked. “Cliff? Do you want another piece to sop up all that syrup?”

“Sure.”

“Cliff doesn't like him,” Penny said.

“I never said that!”

But you don't, Sabrina thought. You don't like your father's star graduate student and maybe that shouldn't surprise us. Another piece of trouble to watch out for; I guess we'll have to talk about it before we invite Lu to dinner again. “What I want to know is, what is everybody doing this afternoon?”

“We could go to the aquarium,” Cliff said brightly. “That's a good thing to do on Sunday afternoon.”

“Good idea,” Sabrina said quickly, to forestall the impatient exclamation she saw Garth about to make. “I didn't get to see much last night; we were too busy talking to people. You'd better bundle up, though; it's unbelievably cold walking there from the car.”

“We're really going?” Cliff asked in disbelief.

“It's okay with me if it's okay with everybody else.”

“Can I take my paints?” Penny asked.

“They're too messy to carry around, Penny. Take crayons or chalk. You can paint at home. Garth? Is the aquarium all right?”

“Only if Cliff can find me a coelacanth.”

“A what?” yelped Cliff.

“I'll show you.” Garth took out a pencil and pad of paper and began to draw. Penny and Cliff hunched near him, and Sabrina watched the three of them.
There comes a time when our lives settle into perfect balance, when everything is in its perfect place.
Wonderfully true, she thought. Because Penny's and Cliff's problems are part of growing up and children grow up bumpily, not smoothly—that's something I've learned in the last five months—and one of the perfect parts of our life is sharing our children's growing up: shaping, nudging, helping, guiding. Something I never had and always wanted. And, Stephanie, these are such lovely children, so full of love and life, so bright and curious and eager to learn. You did that. You and Garth. Before I ever got here.

“Well, I think it's ugly,” Penny said. “You can look
for one if you want, but I'm only going to look for beautiful things that I can draw. I only want to draw beautiful things.”

“There's lots of unbeautiful things in the world, though,” Cliff said.

“But I don't have to paint them. Do I, Mommy?”

“Not now,” Sabrina said. “Maybe, if you decide to be an artist when you grow up, you might paint more of the whole world, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, and the happy and the sad, too.”

“You don't do that,” Penny objected. “You and Madeline don't buy ugly antiques; you only buy beautiful ones.”

Sabrina met Garth's amused glance. “That's true. But do you think I'd have a lot of customers if I bought ugly things?”

“No, but nobody would buy my paintings if they were ugly, either.”

“I think it's different with art. Artists give us their visions of the world and we look at them to find whatever we can in their paintings or sculptures and books. Every work of art probably has as many meanings as it has people looking at it, because each of us sees it in our own way. Sometimes what we see helps us understand the world a little better, or maybe understand ourselves better, know who we are and what we want . . .”

Penny was watching her intently, trying to grasp it all. “It's more complicated than antiques,” Sabrina finished. “One of these days we'll talk about it again.” She spooned a few strawberries from a glass bowl to her plate. “But I did want to talk about antiques, and maybe this is a good time.”

“Gonna watch television,” Cliff said and pushed back his chair.

“No, I want you here,” Sabrina said. “And you don't watch television in the morning, ever, you know that.”

“Yeh, but, Mom,
antiques.
”

“I know they're not your thing, but I want you to stay
because what I really want to talk about is my shops.”

“Collectibles,” Penny said.

“She said
shops
,” said Cliff.

Sabrina nodded. “Collectibles and Ambassadors and Blackford's.”

“Yeh, but those other ones are in London,” Cliff said. “You don't work in them; you work in Collectibles.”

“But I own half of each of them. So I have to keep track of what we buy and sell, and how much money we make, all that sort of thing. And it isn't enough to do it on the telephone; owners have to check out what they own in person, at least once in a while.”

The breakfast room was silent. Then Penny cried out, “You can't! You can't go there!”

“You're going to London?” Cliff demanded. “You can't; you have to stay here!”

Penny burst into tears. “Mommy, don't go! Please don't go! Please stay here!”

Garth and Sabrina exchanged a look. We should have expected this, they told each other silently. “Hey, you two,” Garth said firmly, “listen for a minute. Your mother is going to London for a few days, three or four, that's all, and then she'll be back.”

“Last time you went to London you didn't come back,” Cliff said loudly. “You sent presents, but you didn't come back. You didn't even write to us.”

“I did come back,” Sabrina said quietly.

“Well, yeh, finally, but it took forever and Dad had to go over there to get you.”

“He won't this time,” Sabrina said.

“Dad, are you going to let her go?” Cliff demanded.

“I won't try to stop her, if that's what you're asking.”

“I'd stop her if she was my wife!”

“You couldn't!” Penny wailed. “Husbands can't stop wives from doing things anymore.”

“Then ask her!” Cliff cried to Garth. He glared at Sabrina. “If you really loved us, you wouldn't go. Nobody
else has a mother who goes to London; they all stay home.”

“You sent me those paints and things,” Penny said through her tears, “and I loved them but I didn't want them, I mean, I didn't want them if that was all I could have, I mean,
I wanted you and you were gone and you didn't even call us!
”

Because your father thought you should forget me, Sabrina told her silently. Because I was the interloper, taking the place of the mother you did not even know was dead, and I had no right to be here. . . . until he came to understand how I loved you, how I loved him, and that the three of you had become my whole life. And then he came to bring me home.

“—few days,” Garth was saying. “I told you: three or four, that's all. It's a business trip; it's the same as when I go to conferences. I always come back, right? And your mother will come back.”

“There's no scientific proof of that,” Cliff said flatly.

“
Listen to me.
” Sabrina held her hands toward them. In a minute Penny and Cliff each put a hand in hers. “You and your dad are the most important people in the world to me. My work is important and that's why I'm going on this very short trip and that's why I'll go again, a few times a year, probably, but I promise you this—are you listening?” She waited until they nodded. Their eyes were fixed on hers, Penny's filled with tears, Cliff's intent and somber. “I promise you I will always come back to you. I will never leave you for good. You are my whole life and nothing could ever make me give you up. I love you, I love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

Penny jumped up and threw her arms around Sabrina. “I love you, Mommy.”

Over Penny's head, Sabrina met Garth's eyes again. “I love you,” she said quietly.

“Hey, Mom, listen, are you in trouble or something?” Cliff asked. “I mean, are your shops losing money? 'Cause we could help, like maybe work after school at
Collectibles and you wouldn't have to pay us as much as somebody who isn't in your family, and if you save money, maybe you wouldn't have to go over there.”

“Oh, Cliff, you're wonderful.” My sweet, mercurial son, she thought: one moment a child, the next so close to being a man. “No, I'm not in trouble, but I appreciate your offer, and if things get bad, we'll talk about it. All right?”

“Right.” Cliff jumped up. “I've got an idea. We'll go with you!”

Sabrina laughed, marveling at his stubbornness. “It's a wonderful idea and one of these days you will, and we'll see a lot of London and maybe other places, too. That's another promise.”

“When are you going?” Penny asked, still anxious.

“In a few days. But something wonderful is going to happen before that. I was going to keep it a secret, but I've changed my mind; I'd rather you knew about it now. We're getting a present for our house named Mrs. Thirkell.”

“She doesn't belong here,” Cliff declared, automatically opposed to anything that had to do with London. “She lives over there and she takes care of Aunt Sabrina's house. We don't need her here.”

“Will she make our beds?” Penny asked.

Cliff wheeled in place. “
Will
she? And set the table and do the dishes?”

Sabrina smiled. “She'll help us as much as we want her to, but I think she'd be very unhappy if she thought she was taking away all your jobs.”

“No, she wouldn't; she doesn't have to know we do those things.”

“Let's talk about it when she gets here,” Garth said. “Right now, since she's not here, you have to clean up your rooms by yourselves and if you get going we can go to the aquarium.”

“Yeh, but—”

“Now, Cliff. No more talk.”

Cliff gave an exaggerated shrug and he and Penny turned to go. Sabrina and Garth watched them run up the stairs. “I should clean up the kitchen.”

“They'll do it before we leave. You were wonderful with them. It's astonishing how much reassurance children need. Did I need that much? I can't remember. Did you, do you think?”

“Probably, because we moved around so much we never felt we belonged anywhere. Until Juliette; four years of high school in one place. But we made most of our own reassurance: we always had each—” The words caught in her throat.

Garth drew her out of her chair and onto his lap, and held her like a child. His love for her was so deep and encompassing that he could not imagine life without her, but he did not know how that had happened. Two women, he thought, two halves of one woman, and now somehow both of them are here, part of me in a way Stephanie never was when we were married. There is a mystery to this: to what they were individually, and to what Sabrina is now that Stephanie is dead, and to what Sabrina and I have forged. And though it is hard for me, a scientist, to say this, perhaps this is a mystery that we will never understand. This is a mystery we will live with, and in our more fanciful moments we will call it magic.

“I'm all right,” Sabrina said, her face against his shoulder. “Thank you, my darling. Thank you for everything.” She sat up. “We really should plan a trip to Europe for all of us: London and Paris, maybe Provence. Do you know, I've never been to Avignon or Arles or Cavaillon . . . Oh, Garth, let's plan a trip.”