Rules Get Broken (38 page)

“How are you?” I asked when I was back in the car.

“Hot.”

“No air conditioning on the train again?”

“No, there was air conditioning. Just too many people inside and too hot outside to make much of a difference.”

“I’m sorry. Other than that, how was your day?” I looked into my side view mirror and prepared to pull away from the curb.

“It was good. But can we sit here for a minute while I put on some fresh makeup and try to cool off?”

“Sure. Although you look pretty good to me. Hot and sticky maybe, but good.”

Nancy shot me a look as she pulled down the visor on her side and flipped up the mirror cover. “Is Jennie excited about her party?”

“She sure is.”

“Is everybody there already?”

“Not when I left. Just Maureen and Erin Reilly. My folks were supposed to come around five-fifteen, and Beth and Dave said they’d try to arrive by five-thirty.”

Nancy finished applying the last of her lipstick, rolled her lips together a few times and then blotted them on a piece of facial tissue. “Wasn’t Kathleen supposed to come too?” she asked.

I looked at Nancy for several seconds, weighing whether to tell her the truth or to make up some story to explain Kathleen’s absence. I decided to tell her the truth. I hadn’t lied to her yet in the eleven months we’d known one another, and I wasn’t about to start now.

“She was,” I said, “but she went home.”

“Went home? What for?”

I looked out the windshield at the cars leaving the station and at the ones arriving for the next train. “Kathleen asked Loretta who was coming to Jennie’s party. When Loretta told her you were coming, Kathleen went outside and talked to Maureen for a minute. Then she brought Maureen’s suitcase inside and went home.”

“Oh my God,” Nancy said. Now she too was looking straight ahead out the windshield. “I told you I shouldn’t have come,” she said. “I knew it was a bad idea when you invited me, and now look what’s happened. I don’t belong here, John. Not at your house. Not with the Reillys. Not now. Oh, shit!”

I reached across the seat and gently turned her face towards me. “First of all,” I said softly, “calm down.”

Nancy nodded in agreement at first, but then shook her head from side to side in exasperation and mild panic.

“Calm down,” I repeated.

Nancy inhaled, held her breath and then released it.

“And second,” I continued, “you belong here as much as anyone. You’ve seen how Jennie’s latched onto you the last few months. You know she’s becoming attached to you. She wants you here. Believe me. And I want you here. Nothing else matters, Nan. Nothing.”

“I’m scared, John. I was uncomfortable enough meeting Maureen Reilly for the first time without this happening. But now…” Her voice trailed off, and she turned away from me. “How am I supposed to meet this woman knowing her daughter refuses to be in the same room with me?”

“You just be you. That’s all you do. If Maureen Reilly has a problem with you, that’s too damn bad. The important thing is we’re together, and you’re here for Jennie’s party. I’ll be with you every second. I told you I’d protect you, and I will. I promise.”

By the time Nancy and I arrived, my folks and the Claytons were already in the backyard with Maureen and Erin. My father had parked in the driveway, so instead of driving around the back of the house to the garage, I parked behind him. We got out of the car, and as Nancy tried to smooth out her skirt, I reached behind the passenger seat to retrieve her shopping bag, which contained Jennie’s present. When Nancy was satisfied that she was as wrinkle-free as she was going to be, I took her hand, and we walked down the driveway to the back yard.

As we came around the corner of the house, I saw my parents talking with Beth and Erin, Maureen in one of the lawn chairs with John, and Dave playing tag with Jennie.

My mother saw us first. “Here they are,” she called out to no one in particular and everyone in general. “We thought you two had gotten lost.”

“Nancy’s train was a few minutes late,” I lied.

“Hello, Nancy,” my mother said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Herbert. And you?”

“Hi, Nan,” my father interrupted, extending his hand. “Good to see you.”

“Hello,” Beth chimed in cheerily before Nancy could respond.

“Hi, Beth. How are you?”

Now it was my turn to interrupt. “Nan, let me make a couple of introductions. This is Erin Reilly, Peg’s youngest sister.”

“Hi, Nancy,” Erin replied, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Erin.”

“And this is Maureen Reilly,” I continued, gently pulling Nancy away from Erin and over to Maureen, “Peg’s mom.”

“Hello, Mrs. Reilly,” Nancy said, quite warmly, I thought.

“Hello,” Maureen responded flatly. She made eye contact with Nancy for a second or two and then turned her attention back to John, while Nancy and I stood awkwardly in front of her. “Forgive me for not getting up,” Maureen added finally, “but I have this big beautiful boy on my lap, don’t I, little fella?”

Nancy and I forced a smile and were about to turn away when Jennie came running across the lawn, arms spread to give Nancy a hug. “Nancy! Nancy! You came to my party!”

“Hi, Jennie. How are you?” Nancy replied, getting down on one knee to receive her hug. “Happy birthday! Are you really four years old?”

“I am,” Jennie confirmed, disengaging from the hug and nodding seriously. “Did you bring me a present?”

“You know you’re not supposed to ask that, Jennie,” I reminded her.

“I sure did,” Nancy replied, ignoring my reprimand, “and I think you’re going to love it.”

“Can I open it now?”

“Well, maybe we should leave that up to Daddy.”

“Can I, Daddy? Please!”

“Nancy just got here, honey. Give her a chance to sit down and cool off. Then we’ll open presents, okay?”

Before Jennie could answer, Dave came from behind her, scooped her up in his arms, and in the midst of her squealing extended his hand to Nancy.

“Hi, Nan. Good to see you.”

“Hi, Dave. Good to see you too. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Only until I put this squealing piggy into a garbage can. Then I’m going to grab a drink.”

“No, Uncle Dave,” cried Jennie, now upside down and over his shoulder. “No! Put me down!”

“Hey, pal,” Dave said to me as he started to walk towards the garbage cans. “How’re you doing?”

“Doing okay, buddy, and I’ll join you in that drink after you get rid of your load there.”

With the introductions over and the potentially worst part of the evening behind us, Nancy and I went over to the picnic table to get something to drink. My father had already poured white wines for Beth and my mother and had just finished making a rum and Coke for Erin.

“Nancy, what can I get for you?” he asked as he handed Erin her drink.

“I’ll take a scotch, Bill. On the rocks, please.”

“I’ll take an ice water, Bill,” Maureen said, almost simultaneously.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy said, immediately flustered. “I thought you were talking to me.”

“I was,” my father replied. “Just let me get Maureen her ice water, and then I’ll get you your scotch.”

“I got it, Pop,” I said, seeing that Nancy was now both embarrassed and nervous. I reached across him for the bottle of J & B. “You take care of the ice water, and I’ll take care of Nancy.”

I poured some scotch into two rocks glasses, filled each to the top with ice and handed one to Nancy.

“Well, that was awkward, wasn’t it?” Nancy whispered as she took a sip of her drink.

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “It was nothing. Don’t even think about it.”

Nancy smiled, but I could tell she was unconvinced.

At that moment we were standing at the end of the picnic table, me facing Nancy, Nancy with her back to Maureen Reilly. My mother, Beth and Erin were chatting, and my father was pouring a bourbon for Dave. Seeing that we were are a and unobserved, I reached out to Nancy and stroked her arm. But as I did, I saw Maureen looking at us and at my hand on Nancy’s bare skin. Her eyes were like burning coals.

In an instant I became aware of all that she had seen in the last few minutes. She had seen Jennie run over to Nancy when we arrived. She had seen the way Jennie hugged Nancy, and she had seen the joy on Jennie’s face. And now she was seeing me with Nancy, communicating more with my eyes and my touch than with words. Maureen Reilly was not a happy woman, and I understood why. Nancy Charlton was here, her daughter was not, and her daughter’s husband and little girl were making the transition from what had been to what could be.

“Why don’t we all grab a chair and see if anybody brought Jennie something for her birthday?” I suggested in an attempt to dispel the tension that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Sounds good to me,” my father agreed.

“I’m ready,” Dave said, “but maybe Jennie’s tired and wants to go to bed.”

“No, Uncle Dave. I’m not tired. I’m not tired at all!” Jennie protested, and as if to emphasize her position on the matter, the birthday girl promptly abandoned her playmate and ran over to where the rest of us were assembling on the grass.

Jennie opened her presents from Maureen and Erin first, then Dave and Beth’s, and then one from Loretta. When it was Nancy’s turn to give Jennie her present, Jennie stood in front of her, hands clasped tightly together, rigid with anticipation. Nancy reached into the shopping bag, pulled out a large wrapped package and handed it to Jennie.

“Now be very careful when you open it,” she warned, “because what’s inside is very breakable.”

Jennie nodded and placed the package on the grass so she could open it sitting down. She undid the bow, pulled off the ribbon and tore away the paper. Then she slid her fingers under the top flap of the box and gave the flap a serious tug so she could see what was inside.

“It’s beautiful,” she cried out.” It’s beautiful!” She leaped up and gave Nancy a hug.

“What did you get, Jennie?” my mother asked.

“A piggy bank! A great big pink piggy bank!”

“Let me help you get it out of the box,” Nancy said as she got up from her chair and knelt down next to Jennie. “You hold onto the box, and I’ll take the pig out.”

Jennie did as she was told, and a second later Nancy presented her with a truly beautiful piggy bank—glazed ceramic, deep pink, with a warm smile painted on the face. And big—fifteen inches long, six or seven inches wide and at least nine inches high. Jennie loved it.

After Jennie had opened her presents from my parents and me, I lit the grill to get the charcoal ready for our barbecue, and we ate shortly after seven. When dinner was over, my mother brought out dessert—a four-inch-high bittersweet chocolate cake with five candles, one for good luck—and we sang “Happy Birthday” as she placed the cake in front of Jennie.

“Time to make a wish, sweetheart,” I said, forgetting that Jennie had never done this before.

“Why do I need to make a wish, Daddy?”

“Everybody does on their birthday.”

“Why?”

“Well…if you make a wish on your birthday and blow out all the candles in one breath, and if you don’t tell anyone what you wished for, your wish is supposed to come true.”

“What should I wish for?”

I thought of Peg.

“Daddy?”

Jennie’s voice brought me back from where my thoughts had taken me. “You can wish for something you don’t have but would like to have,” I said finally, “or you can wish for something nice for someone else.”

Jennie nodded and stared at the candles, deep in thought, and then she closed her eyes.

I looked at her from across the table, her eyes closed tightly, the light of the candles reflecting off her face, and I wondered what she was wishing for. Was she wishing that her mother were here? Was she wishing her mother would come back to her? Or was she just wishing for something not among tonight’s presents? But before I could guess at a probable answer, Jennie opened her eyes and, with a powerful sweeping blow, blew out all her candles.

The evening came to an unexpectedly quick close moments later, just after we had finished cutting the cake, when Erin got up from the table and announced that she needed to call a taxi to take her to the train station. She wanted to catch an eight twenty-five train into New York, she said, so she could catch the last bus out to New Jersey. We finished our cake, stood to say our good-byes, and within minutes everyone had gone their separate ways—Erin to the curb to wait for her cab, Beth and Dave across the street to their house, Jennie, John, Loretta and my mother inside—leaving my father, Maureen, Nancy and me standing on the lawn in uncomfortable silence.

“I’m going inside to see if your wife needs help putting the children to bed,” Maureen said to my father.

“Tell her I’ll be in in a minute, would you?” he replied.

Maureen nodded and walked towards the back door.

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Reilly,” Nancy said to Maureen’s back.

“It was nice meeting you too,” Maureen answered, several seconds too late and without turning around. She went up the back steps, opened the screen door and was gone.

“Well, Nance, it’s been fun,” my father said, ignoring Maureen’s abrupt departure. “And your pig was certainly the hit of the evening.”

We said good night, and Nancy and I walked down the driveway to my car.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” I asked as I pulled my door closed.

“Could have been better,” Nancy answered sadly. “But I guess it could have been worse.”

I put the key into the ignition and looked over at her. She was deep in thought.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m thinking you haven’t heard the last from Maureen Reilly.”

The ringing didn’t stop. It just went on and on, penetrating deeper and deeper into my brain. “What’s that noise?” I wondered groggily. “Why doesn’t it stop? Please…make it stop.”

Finally, I opened the eye that wasn’t buried in the pillow. I looked across the bed and located the source of the incessant ringing on the night table—my alarm clock, set for seven o’clock four and a half hours ago and now dutifully bringing me back from the world of darkness to the world of light.