Perfect Family (29 page)

“We never had sex,” Mira said. “I want that one on the record, in case anybody's wondering.”

It was all something out of a nightmare. It would take Tinker days to understand all that had happened. “Nobody can ever know,” she whispered. Andrew had fallen asleep on her father's lap.

“We can't not tell him,” Mira said. “Look what it did to all of us.”

“But people will
judge
Andrew. The kids at school will be so cruel,” Tinker moaned, remembering how she'd been teased, and she was only fat.

“We don't have to publish it in the
Burlington Free Press
, Tinker,” William said. “He'll be told the truth when he's old enough to understand. The shame isn't his. It was Pony's, Keith's. It was Mother's. He shouldn't suffer for it the way I did. The way we all have.”

“Why does anyone outside the family ever need to know?” Ruth asked. “It will become Andrew's information to divulge or not. In time.”

William read from another of Katherine's e-mails, cautioning them not to alert the pediatrician.

“Maybe Katherine can be his pediatrician,” Mira said.

“But what is the truth?” her father asked. “We have only this Keith's word that he's the father. Perhaps he's not.”

“Pony seemed pretty sure,” William said. “According to Keith, that is.”

“Oh, man,” Mira said. “How are we going to find out?”

“DNA,” Tinker said. “There must be a way.”

“Do you need to do anything?” Ruth asked. “Maybe you just leave it alone.”

“But look at all that's happened!” Mira wailed. “And all because Mom kept her mouth shut about having another baby and about William. If we'd known, none of this would have happened. Right?”

“I'd like to speak.” Jasper sounded weary. “Your mother had reasons for not speaking of that other child. I don't know them. None of us does. But I'll assure you of this: She did it out of love. Misguided? How can we know?” He smiled at them. “As far as Andrew is concerned, do we tell him the truth? And if so, what
is
the truth? What we know for sure is what Pony told William, that Andrew was conceived in a liaison with a man that lasted for only a matter of hours. We have no evidence that the man was Keith, beyond his claim. Tinker spoke of DNA, and of course it's a possibility, but we would need to approach that with great care. We need to consider Ruth's suggestion. But in any case, I think William is correct. We'll know what to tell Andrew when the time comes, many years forward. We have so much of importance to consider in the meantime. We've lost our beautiful Pony. We've been deceived and betrayed. We very nearly lost William in Idaho. We have Andrew to raise. So many events have occurred, and so much energy will be required. But can I point out…” He made an all-inclusive gesture that took in the family and the house. “Here we all are. We'll go forward. We're a family.”

To the east of Lake Aral, a drive of perhaps twenty minutes, Mount Pisgah rose steeply. It was a densely forested foothill, spiked with rocky outcroppings, and had a flat, bald top. The trailhead was difficult to find. Like so many of the special places around Lake Aral, this one was unmarked. The access wasn't written up in any hiking guides or touring books. But William and Jasper had been there many times. He knew to slow at a boulder on the left side of the road, drive another hundred yards, and park in a scant turnout. Their car was the only car. They had Mount Pisgah to themselves.

It had been years since William had made this climb. A short but steep distance with tricky footing. Roots crisscrossed the trail, and there were sections of difficult traprock. William wasn't sure if doing this hike was a good idea, given Jasper's recent hospital stay. It was possible he'd suffered some small strokes, and if that was the case, he would no doubt continue to have them. He was to be watched carefully. Tinker had wanted to come along today, but Jasper had said no. He wanted to make this trip with William. Only William.

Jasper walked with a cane now. One that had for years been in the umbrella stand at the front door. A cane with an ivory handle that generations of Carterets had used in their old age. When he was a child, William had used it as a sword, sparring with it. Now Jasper walked slowly, painfully, from the car to the woods. William let him take the lead and set an easy pace.

The trail rose immediately. William kept an eye on Jasper's feet, in sneakers, ahead of him, his khaki pants ballooning out. Neither of them spoke, saving their breath for the walk. William listened for Jasper's breath, for signs of wheezing or strain, but heard nothing unusual. He'd brought a cell phone, although it was doubtful that there was service here. If Jasper collapsed—well, he wouldn't worry about that.

It took them forty-five minutes to reach the top, which was barren of trees. The view brought to William's mind the climb he'd made with Keith, with its sweeping views of the Sawtooth Mountains, the river below. Here, the view was gentler. Maples and oaks darkened for winter.

A fallen tree at the edge of a clearing served as a seat for Jasper, who leaned on his cane and patted the space beside him for William. But first William did what he always did when he reached the top of Mount Pisgah: He forced himself to walk to the edge and peer down the sheer stone cliff that fell sharply, a thousand or so feet. He could see the tops of the trees below, the narrow gravel road where their car was parked. The sheer expanse of air between him and solid ground made him feel almost light-headed. He breathed deeply to will himself calm and to will away the fear. And it worked. Breathing always calmed him.

He took a seat beside Jasper. “Okay,” he said. “Here we are.”

“I used to bring you here,” Jasper said. “Do you remember?”

“Sure,” William said.

“You always did what you did just now. You went to the edge.”

“Yeah,” William said.

“You weren't afraid.”

“I was terrified. I did it to prove to myself that I could.”

Jasper looked oddly at him, frowning so that his thick eyebrows obscured his eyes. “Terrified?”

“God, yes,” William said. “I did it to improve myself.” He laughed.

“But you were always so sure of yourself, William. Physically.”

William looked into the old man's eyes to see if he meant it. “I'm telling you, no.”

“Hmm,” Jasper said. “As a boy, coming up here with my friends, my family, I was too afraid to stand on the edge.” He shrugged. “I was too cautious. When you and I came, I always sat right here and watched you do what I could never do. To tell you the truth, I was envious. You surpassed me so early.”

William picked up a stick and twirled it in his fingers.

“It's time for the remaining truth.” Jasper stood up and took a few steps, supported by his cane, and turned to face William. “I loved your mother the moment I saw her. But it took her some time to feel anything for me. I helped her leave. I met you for the first time on the night I drove your mother from Puma Springs to San Diego. She held you in her arms. She came to love me over time, through your sisters.”

“I thought you and Mom had to get married because she got pregnant with me. I figured you had to come back to Hartford because of me. Gave up some dream you had. That without me, your life would have been different. You would have done what you wanted.”

“Oh my,” Jasper said.

“I thought a lot of things.”

“Such as?”

“I thought…” William began, unsure if he could say this.

“Tell me.”

“You loved my sisters, never me.”

Jasper shut his eyes. “I loved you, William. Then and now. Not as I do the girls, no. You're correct. But as much. Every bit as much.”
He wiped a hand over his face. “Physically, you see, you favor your father. I've always known that.” He took a deep breath. “Put yourself in my place. How many times I had to wonder if Olivia looked at you and thought of him, particularly as you grew into adolescence and manhood. She had loved him, you see. He turned on her, and on you, but she had loved him.”

“You're shaking,” William said.

“Of course,” Jasper said.

“Maybe we should head back. Talk as we go.”

“I'm not finished,” Jasper said. He sat beside William again, closer this time. “You're partly right. I went west because I wanted nothing to do with a ball-bearing company, or a life spent the way my family had always spent it, in the business, living in the Steele Road house, here at Lake Aral. I saw it as a life already led by one generation after another. A safe, unoriginal life. I wanted something else. I didn't know what. And there I was in Puma Springs. It was very beautiful, in its way. And then I met your mother. She had a small part in a community-theater production. I went to every performance. Three in all. She was required to wear a blue scarf at her neck. Her hair tied high on her head. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?”

“Keep talking,” William said.

Jasper laughed. “I was old for that sort of thing. I was in my thirties. I thought I'd been in love a few times, but I was mistaken. Love was when I met your mother. I knew nothing of the other child, only of you. What heartache it must have been for her to leave him behind. She needed help for you. Your father was a tyrant, she said. She was frightened. You were her reason for living, William.” He looked out over the hills. “And she became mine. I would have done anything for her. I did everything I could.”

“You came back east,” William said.

Jasper smiled. He shrugged. “It was what I had to offer her. It was what she needed. What you needed. I did it gladly. I've never had a sin
gle regret. With you, and the girls, it's been the original life I wanted.”

“I'm taking Andrew,” William said.

“Look at me, son.” Jasper's eyes glistened with tears. William had no memory of ever seeing him so close-up. “You'll do a fine job with the boy.”

“I don't know what to say,” William said.

“Nothing to say,” Jasper said, rising. “Let's go on down now. We have a raft to take in.”

 

Back at Fond du Lac, the wind had picked up, blowing offshore, smelling of fall. Red maple leaves were scattered over the black water of the lake. The sky was a spectacular blue.

William, Mira, and Tinker stood knee-deep in the water. Jasper was on the shore with Ruth, Mark, and Isabel. Andrew lay on his back in his playpen, watching the sky. Minerva sat on the porch, shrouded in afghans. The loss of Pony hung heavily over them all—the memory of so many other Labor Days when Pony would free the raft from its mooring. When she'd shoot to the surface and shout,
“Finito!”

“Let's get this over with.” Tinker looked like a child, her hair stuffed into a bulging white rubber swim cap with a too-long strap around the chin so the end flapped, her bathing suit now too large for her, so it gapped at the top. They entered the lake together. All three at once dove in and did a fast crawl to warm themselves. At the raft William went hand over hand around the edge until he found where the chain went down to the anchor. “Tell me when,” he called out to his sisters. Their job was to swim to the other side of the raft, the windward side, and kick it toward shore with everything they had to give the chain some slack. “Okay,” Tinker shouted. “Go ahead.”

William took a deep breath, grasped the chain in both hands, and pulled himself down, waiting to feel the bloom of Pony's hair. He ran his hands over and over along the slick chain. He found the rough edge of the broken link where her hair had caught, but there was
nothing. It was gone. It must have come loose over the summer and drifted out into the lake. He felt the chain slacken as the girls pushed up above. He felt in the blackness of the lake bottom for the hook, eased it from the eye embedded in the concrete block. And it was done. He swam to the surface, into the bright day.

PERFECT FAMILY

1. The quote by John Steinbeck from
   The Grapes of Wrath
   at the beginning of the book reads, “How can we live without our lives? How will we know it's us without our past?” Much of
   Perfect Family
   centers on identity and a deeper understanding of one's self. Which character's identity, or perception of identity, shifts the most throughout the course of the book?
   
2. Although William is one of the more dominant characters in the book, the point of view of the story changes from chapter to chapter. Why do you think that the author chose to do this? What does this allow her to do as a storyteller? Which voice do you find most compelling? Most trustworthy and believable?
   
3. Shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, acceptance, and hope make up what many psychiatrists call the stages of grief. Discuss if and how William and the other family members go through any or all these stages. Which lasts the longest? How do the circumstances of loss affect how the family members express their emotions?
   
4. The author writes: “Jasper ran the show. He always had and he always would”. Is this true? Who do you think really has the most control in the family? Who has the least? How do the different family members exert control over one another?
   
5. Keith enters the story when he meets Mira for coffee. She describes: “He had that pull she liked in a guy. Something she never wanted to analyze”. What were your first impressions of Keith? Was he trustworthy? Who of the family did you side with when he was introduced? Why does Mira take to him so quickly?
   
6. Discuss how the author uses pacing throughout the story. When does she speed up her narrative and when does she slow it down? What effect does this have on the plot and character development?
   
7. Each of the siblings of the Carteret family is very different. Who did you identity with the most? Who would you most like to spend time with?
   
8. William says of Keith, “He's not family”. Ruth later continues the discussion on family by saying, “You have to participate. You have to be present.” What does it mean to be part of a family? How do you define who is in a family? How strong is the Carteret family? Is it possible to join a family?
   
9. Minerva says to William, “Your parents believed they could triumph over the past…. I'm speaking of your mother and Jasper”. Can someone triumph over his past? What does that mean?
   
10. William's mother writes in her note, “Necessity is the mother of invention—Larry's philosophy about everything. The best way to learn anything is when you have no choice”. Do you agree with Larry's thinking? What are other ways to learn?
    
11. Keith and William are true brothers. How are they similar? How are they different? Do they want the same thing?
    
12. Toward the end of the book William speaks of Andrew: “The shame isn't his. It was Pony's, Keith's. It was Mother's. He shouldn't have to suffer for it the way I did. The way we all have”. Whose shame is it? Should the family be ashamed at all?