Compass Rose (13 page)

The doctor came in with a different nurse, who helped Elsie get her wet clothes off. “Not the pants,” the doctor said. “I’ll cut the pants. Looks like there’s some shreds in the wounds.” He began to cut her pants away, saying to himself, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay.” He ran warm water onto her buttocks. It felt good for a second, then stung. She winced. “Saline solution,” he said. “Clean things up so I can see.” He gave her a shot. There was a series of wheelings here and there, perhaps another shot, or was he just poking? She heard the doctor talking to the nurse or to himself. She heard him say, “…  subcutaneous adipose tissue,” and she heard herself say, “That’s fat. Are you saying I have a fat ass?” She laughed to show there were no hard feelings.

She heard a chime. She asked what it was. He said, “I’m dropping the pellets into a bowl. You’re doing great. Not long now.”

She asked or perhaps thought to ask where the navy chief was. She
did
ask, because the nurse shushed her. She waited for a long time and then asked if Sally had picked Rose up. “Yes,” the nurse said. “Everything’s fine.”

The doctor said, “Just one more. Can you lie real still for one more? I can numb you a bit more if you like.”

“It’s funny,” Elsie said. “It hurts, but the pain is sort of off to the side.” She pointed. “Maybe over there.”

“Good. Now put your hand back where it was, take a deep breath, and relax, and we’ll just …”

The pain came out of the corner and shot from her ass to her right foot, from her ass to her skull.

“Squeeze her hand,” the doctor said. “I’ve almost got it.”

Elsie said, “Oh, fuck!” The nurse said, “Ow!” The doctor said, “There!” He said, “Listen,” and Elsie heard the last pellet chime and then roll into the others. The nurse massaged her own hand.

“Sorry,” the doctor said. “That last one was in there pretty far. Sort of shrink-wrapped. How do you feel now?”

“I’d like some more of that first stuff, whatever it was that put me on cloud nine. But first I want to be sure Sally’s taking care of my daughter. And how soon can I go home?”

“We’ll keep you overnight. I want to keep an eye on you, just a precaution.” He said to the nurse, “Could you go see about a bed?”

When the nurse came back, she said, “Mr. Aldrich has arranged for a private room. He says to tell you he gave Mary Scanlon the night off and that she’s taken Rose home.”

The front-desk nurse came in. She said, “I’m sorry. I called your sister. When I said you were here at the hospital she gave a shriek and then Mr. Aldrich got on the phone.”

Elsie sighed and said, “Oh, God.” Then she said, “Just don’t tell him where I got shot or he’ll make dumb jokes for the next ten years.”

The doctor said, “When he calls again, you can say the hip. Lacerations and contusions to the hip. She’s resting comfortably, but we’re still in a sterile field here. Visitors in the morning. Assure him nothing grave, best of care and so forth. Oh—aware of and grateful for his interest.”

“Thank you,” Elsie said. “I think I’m ready for bed. What about another shot of cloud nine?”

“We’ll see. Your pulse is still too low. That’s why I didn’t put you under.”

“My resting pulse is forty-eight. Because I exercise. Okay … I
was
a little fuzzy, but I’m all the way back now. I’m not in shock, I’m in pain. My right butt feels like a hamburger in a hot frying pan. It feels like it’s been jumped on by someone wearing track spikes.”

“You don’t want to get too vivid. It’ll just make you—”

“Right. So give me a little something to make me less vivid.”

M
ay let Charlie take her Dodge Dart to Wakefield so he and Tom could buy some things, go to an afternoon movie. She put off Phoebe, who wanted to have lunch. She wasn’t sure what to do about Dick. He’d said he was going to look in on the Tran boy, then maybe do a thing or two on the boat. Part of her wanted him to show up, find her and Mary Scanlon and Rose. Another part was afraid he’d get angry, and she wasn’t sure she had the energy to rise to that, or that her sense of right, strong enough when she’d gone to see Elsie, would hold up.

Mary Scanlon had made it sound easy. “Sure. I’m free when we stop serving lunch. I can let this crew out of my sight for an hour. It’ll be a breath of fresh air. For Rose, too. Better put your good china out of reach; she’s crawling and clambering to beat the band.”

May had felt a note of pleasure. Rose crawling and clambering—what else? Was she learning to stand up? May remembered holding Charlie’s hands, Tom’s hands, helping them take a step, admiring the swell of their small, perfect calf muscles.

When Mary Scanlon’s pickup pulled into the driveway, May went out to meet them, watched with interest the elaborate unbuckling from the baby seat. “Is that the best kind?”

“I’m sure it is,” Mary said. “It’s a hand-me-down from his nibs.” May must have looked blank. “Jack Aldrich himself, the squireen of Sawtooth Point,” Mary said as she lifted Rose and set her on her hip. Mary tilted her face toward Rose. “I’m not speaking ill of your uncle Jack, mind.”

Rose looked at Mary’s face. May could swear Rose understood every word. She didn’t dare to ask to hold her yet, but she offered her hand and smiled at her. Rose touched her hand and studied her.

May said, “I forgot to ask what she likes to eat.”

“She had her lunch, but she wouldn’t say no to a snack. Elsie’s strict about sweets, maybe a bit of toast …”

“I’ve made biscuits. And there’s jelly. There’s very little sugar in my jelly.” May led the way in, fluttered around the kitchen. She knew she’d do better to calm down. She thought the way Mary pulled Rose out of her snowsuit was too rough-and-tumble, but Rose plainly liked Mary’s touch. May split a biscuit open. Still too hot for a baby. She got the paper bag in which she’d hidden the teddy bear she’d bought. She was pleased she remembered that plastic bags were dangerous. “Can she get it out by herself?”

“Oh, yes, she’s a great explorer of bags. Aren’t you, Rose? Just hold it out to her. Rosie, look. She understands if you say ‘It’s for you.’ ”

May was tongue-tied. She finally managed to say “Rose.” Rose looked up at the sound of her name but sat still in the middle of the floor. May knelt and held the bag out. Rose stared at May’s face, and May wished herself pure of any harm she’d ever wished on Elsie. She leaned forward, elbows on the floor, until the bag was at Rose’s feet.

Rose touched the bag and looked at Mary. “Aw, go on, Rosie. Don’t be such a tease.” Mary’s voice sounded like a roar to May, but Rose smiled.

“It’s for you,” May said. “For you.” Rose picked it up and put the top edge of the bag in her mouth. She chewed on it without taking her eyes off May’s face. May felt dizzy. It was all more than she’d bargained for. She was relieved when Mary laughed.

As if Mary’s laugh set her off, Rose grabbed the bag with both hands and swung it up and down, thumping it on the ground. Mary laughed again and said, “A good thing you didn’t give her a teacup.” The top began to tear, and Rose saw the teddy bear. She pulled at it, got it half out, and looked sideways at May, a sly smile that took May by surprise. It was devilish and pleased and, it seemed to May, meant that Rose knew that May was part of her pleasure. Rose got hold of the bear’s ear. May put a finger on the bottom of the bag and the bear popped out. Rose found the face and began poking at an eye.

May was exhausted.

She got back in her chair, and it was a minute before she remembered her manners and offered Mary a cup of tea.

“If it’s no trouble,” Mary said. “I think we’ve got a quiet moment while Rose tortures her new bear. And I have to say I’m glad you didn’t get her a squeaky toy. Eddie, God love him, got her a rubber duck that quacks, sounds just like the real thing, I’m expecting mallards to be flying into the house any minute.”

Mary kept on talking blithely while May made tea, but when May set the teapot down, Mary took her by the wrist, looked her in the eye, and said, “I see you’re taken with our Rose, and I’m glad. I can imagine … But this way is for the best—if Rose grows up knowing you, it’ll give her just that much more.”

May was startled, then embarrassed. It was false credit. She didn’t dare explain—she wanted Rose with an ache that had nothing to do with doing the right thing. She wanted Rose to want to be in her house, to like the smell of her kitchen, to hold her arms out to be picked up.

She heard stomping and scraping on the front porch. She hadn’t heard a car. Dick came in, said, “I smell biscuits.” He didn’t seem surprised to see Mary, but he stopped short when he looked down at Rose. He looked at the far corner of the kitchen, his mouth set, his head nodding. Certainly not agreeing with anything, more likely moving with his pulse. He turned around and started for the front door.

It was Mary who was quick on her feet. She darted around Rose and got to Dick in the front hallway. She said, “Oh, no, you don’t!” and wrapped her arms around him, half tackling him, half hugging him.

He snarled and pushed at her arm. May was terrified they’d struggle their way back into the kitchen. She got down on her hands and knees beside Rose. But Mary laughed and said, “Oh, Dick, for God’s sake—it’s nothing to be afraid of. We all love you, you great lummox.” She kissed the side of his head. “Though I’m sure I don’t know why.” Dick stood still. Mary kept an arm around his shoulder—May hadn’t ever taken in how really big Mary was—and kept on talking. “So you want Rose to grow up thinking Eddie’s her
father? She’s about to start saying Da-da—it’s any minute now. So come on, there’s nothing happening here that wasn’t bound to happen sooner or later. And don’t start up with May. I’m the one brought Rose over; you can’t expect me to keep her by myself the whole day without a moment of relief.”

Rose sat looking up at Mary, holding the teddy bear to her chest with one arm. May thought how easily attentive Rose looked, as if Mary was singing. And it was a kind of crooning, a kind of coaxing that hadn’t ever been heard in this house. It was as if the snowstorm had blown in any number of things May wasn’t used to—Mr. Salviatti’s angels came to mind, mixing up religion and pleasure—and here was Mary Scanlon, another RC, come to think of it, all in one breath scolding and coaxing, strong-arming him and now hugging him front-on, one hand stroking the back of his head, as if she was about to kiss him on the mouth.

And what if she did?

Mary and Dick stepped around May and Rose, and Mary sat down and poured herself a cup of tea. Dick sat in May’s chair. Rose looked at them for a second. May was sure that Rose thought to herself, Those two aren’t going to be fun for a while. Rose held the teddy bear out toward May. May put the bag over its head. Rose furrowed her eyebrows. May pulled the bag off. Rose looked only slightly amused.

May went through all the foolishness she could remember—peekaboo, itsy-bitsy spider, this little piggy—at first through Rose’s socks and then, pulling one sock off, on Rose’s bare toes. She couldn’t resist kissing Rose’s foot, which smelled like carrots with a bit of earth still on them. Rose found her toes of interest, too, and she and May examined each one as if they were leafing through a book together.

And then Mary was on her feet, bustling Rose into her snowsuit, scooping her up off the floor, holding her face up to May’s to be kissed, then up to Dick’s, and Mary was out the door.

May sat down at the kitchen table. Dick got up. He put two biscuits on a plate, poured himself a glass of milk, and ate standing up at the sink. He washed his plate and glass and said, “I don’t want you going behind my back like that.”

May didn’t say the first thing that came into her head. After a bit she said, “All right, now you know. I want Rose to visit here.”

“Suppose the boys had come in.”

“I sent them off to Wakefield to the picture show.”

“So you’re pulling the strings.”

“I don’t want Rose to grow up not knowing us.”

“I’ve gone to see her.”

“I said ‘us.’ And when it comes time to let the boys know, it won’t be so hard on you if they see that I’ve come around.”

Dick jerked his head and stiffened. Then he sat down and stared at the floor between his feet.

May was tempted to push him down further. She could still say, “Who went behind whose back?” She also felt sorry for him—just not enough to say something that would make him feel better. She thought of Mary Scanlon, jollying him out of his snarls. Hugging him, teasing him, kissing him. Let him get squeezed by jolly Mary Scanlon if that’s what it took to get Rose over here.

J
ohnny Bienvenue called to say he’d like to talk to Elsie about a couple of things.

“Okay. Shall I come to Providence? Or are you in Woonsocket?”

“I’ve got to go to Sawtooth, so I can save you the trip. Are you back at work or still on leave?”

Elsie thought Jack must have been talking. “No. Another couple of days off.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Pretty much. If you want to come during the day, I’ll be at home.” She was about to ask why they couldn’t just talk on the
phone. She kept her mouth shut … why miss another chance to get a glimpse?

He came the next afternoon. She said he could smoke his pipe—Rose was still with Mary. “So what are we talking about?”

“First off, in a while I won’t be able to help you represent Miss Perry’s interests. I can do it for the next several months, but then I’ll be running for public office.”

“Well, good. That’s what you’ve wanted. Your visit to Sawtooth have anything to do with that?”

“Jack wants to have a talk. See if I’d like to have dinner next week with some of his Sawtooth pals.”

“He gets into everything. Oh. Is it on account of Jack you know about my accident?”

“This is the hard part. I have independent knowledge. In Woonsocket a lot of people come to me with their problems. A lawyer came to me, said he needed some advice. He chose not to say who his client is. I had no idea this would involve you. It turns out his client is the guy who shot you.”

“So who is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“But this lawyer friend of yours knows. You could find out.”