Spartina (32 page)

Mary’s voice.

Elsie said, “Well, sure. But the irony is that it’s the mirror image. If it’s true.”

Mary’s voice.

Elsie said, “I’ll tell him sooner or later, sure. That’s not the issue. Or, rather, it is the issue. Sooner still leaves a choice.”

Mary’s voice, loud enough for Dick to hear the words—“Oh, Elsie! Absolutely not! Don’t even think—”

Elsie said, “Don’t get mad at
me.
I’m not the one to convince. If … I mean, it’s all if. If I am. If I tell him right away.”

Dick understood that Elsie was pregnant. No if.

Her talk of adopting, her plan with Mary Scanlon. Her brightening up at the Mabel O’Brien story. And what was this about Elsie’s friend Lucy Potter? He didn’t figure that, but he didn’t need to.

From his crouch behind the hemlock he sank to his knees. Jesus H. Christ. He wasn’t as angry as he thought he might be. Elsie hadn’t lied to him yet—maybe that was it. He hoped it was a girl. There was that thought, quick as a shooting star.

But right away he felt the punishment of that: they wouldn’t be father and daughter.

He sank back on his heels and felt the envelope crinkle against his thigh. So what was that? A fee, a goddamn stud fee. Sly Elsie Buttrick. So the Buttricks could buy that too.

For a moment he was on the edge of tearing up the check. Or walking up to the porch.

He heard Mary Scanlon laugh.

He crushed a mosquito with his forefinger under his earlobe.

Trust Mary Scanlon to see the joke.

Mary was sitting up in bed now.

Elsie said, “I could apply for maternity leave, but then they might be able to fire me for moral turpitude. I’ll talk to a lawyer. But I think that the best thing is to pretend it’s adopted. That takes care of my career, and it would make things easier for Dick. I could go stay with my mother in Boston for the last five months. I’ll apply for educational leave, enroll in some courses. You could have this place to yourself for a bit. And you could look after building the wing for yourself.”

“Sounds nice—a few months in Boston,” Mary said. “Suppose you meet someone in Boston and suddenly decide to get married.”

Elsie laughed. “I don’t think so.”

Mary said, “Have you ever thought of getting married just to give the kid a name? Then you could be a divorcee.”

“I don’t see any likely candidates. Besides, I want the baby to have my name.”

“What if Dick wanted to marry you? I mean get divorced and—”

“Oh no,” Elsie said. “He wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t want him to. I don’t want that, I don’t want this child to start out by ruining someone else’s life. As it is now, I don’t think anyone’s going to get hurt.”

“Maybe not,” Mary said. “The kid will be a bastard. Maybe that’s not being hurt. If Dick doesn’t find out, that seems hard, but I guess you could argue he’s not hurt. You could tell him it’s adopted,
but he’s not a dummy, you know.… Or suppose you tell him. What then? Suppose he says get an abortion?”

“No,” Elsie said. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t. But I’ll have to see. I can’t imagine what he’ll
feel
like. What do men feel like? Suppose I tell him I picked him—won’t he be flattered? Isn’t it a good deal for a man? No diapers, no grocery bills. His genes getting a free ride.”

“Elsie. I don’t think it’s that easy, Elsie.”

Elsie’s head sank below the screen, then came up again slowly.

Elsie said, “But you’re still game? You’ll still be the godmother? Move in here with us?”

“Sure,” Mary said. “We’ll give the kid a nice home.” She laughed. “You know what some guys are going to think, just the two of us living out here in the woods? A couple of middle-aged dykes.”

“Let ’em. It’ll keep the riffraff out.”

Mary said, “My social life isn’t so good I can afford to keep the riffraff out.”

“Oh, Mary,” Elsie said. “Don’t be absurd. You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a great cook. And when you’re managing Jack’s restaurant, you’ll be meeting all sorts of people. And you’ll have this nice house to bring them home to.”

“Yeah, sure. Life begins at forty. Look, I’m not complaining. We’ll have a good time. But before you go adding a wing to your house, maybe you should make sure the rabbit died.”

“I’ve got a doctor’s appointment next week. But I’d like you to move in anyway.”

“We’ll figure all that out,” Mary said. “Right now I’m really bushed.”

“But you’ll come with me to the launching?”

“Oh yeah. Dick’s boat. Sure, if it’s not too early.”

“Noon.” Elsie’s tone still hovered and soared, as if it was all a breeze. “It’s a beautiful boat. Dick’s his usual grumpy self about it, but it really is amazing. I know it’s presumptuous, but I’m terribly proud of it. Of him.”

Mary’s voice was muffled again, but it sounded like she’d had enough, didn’t want Elsie to get wound up again. The light went out.

Dick got up on one knee. For a second he was confused, lost in the dark, thought he was still hiding in the salt marsh. He could barely feel his body except as dull weight.

He hadn’t figured there were so many ways to get in trouble. He made his way back to his pickup and let it roll down the driveway, almost to Miss Perry’s, before he started the engine.

When he slipped into bed he thought he’d have a hard time getting to sleep.

May woke him up once to stop him snoring. May had to shake him awake again in the morning when the boat-moving rig pulled off Route 1 into his yard.

I
t took longer to load up than he’d figured, but it went okay. Backing in, the tractor’s front wheels swung round and tore up half of May’s garden. The trailer moved back into the shed a yard at a time, taking the weight of the boat frame by frame, as Eddie and he dismantled the cradle.

The wheels of the trailer sank in a half-foot, leaving a double trench from inside the shed, out across the garden, through the backyard, and around the side, slowly coming back to grade as the wheels ran up onto the packed grit and shells of the driveway. The boys ran out onto Route 1 waving red handkerchiefs tied to
sticks to warn off traffic. Dick’s truck didn’t have flashers, so Eddie tailed the boat in his pickup. Dick pulled out and swept past, leaving May to bring the boys along in her car.

By the time they got the two miles to the boatyard and rolled the boat onto the marine railway, it was close to noon.

The manager let his men off for a half-hour lunch. Dick raised his eyebrows. He took a deep breath and took the manager aside to ask, as calmly as he could manage, if the half-hour for lunch was going on the bill. The manager pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and said, “No.” He opened his eyes and said, “Look, Dick. It’s all going fine. The boat’s in the yard. She’s on the railway. It’s time for my boys to have their lunch. It’s when you hurry that things slip.
You
know that.” He nodded toward the harbor. “The tide’s still coming in, another half-hour there’ll be even more water. You don’t want her to bounce when she slides in.” The manager added, “All you boat owners are alike—expect everything to fall into place just ’cause you show up.” Dick was stung. The manager shook his head. “Hey, Dick. I’m kidding you. That’s what
you
used to say when you worked here.”

Dick sent Charlie and Tom off in May’s car to get their skiff off
Mamzelle
, Tom to bring the skiff back up the harbor from Galilee, Charlie to drive the car back. Dick wanted the skiff to tend his boat once she was at a mooring. May offered to go back and get him a sandwich. He was in too much of a fuss to eat. He got an oar from the yard’s store, got in a dinghy, and floated over the rails, poking down with the oar around where his boat’s stern would splash in. His hands were so fluttery, he almost dropped the oar.

Plenty of water down there. What was he fussing about? He splashed a handful of water on his face.

A man in red pants and a white tennis hat hailed him from the dock. Dick cupped his hand to his ear. The man said he wanted his dinghy back. Eddie was on the guy like a shot. Dick watched
Eddie’s hands open like flowers in front of his chest, his head cock to one side. The man’s eyes followed Eddie’s to the boat. The man lifted his hand to catch Dick’s attention. “Okay, take your time.” Dick paddled back in anyway.

Dick said he was sorry, he’d thought the dinghy was a yard boat.

The man wanted to chat. He said, “That’s some boat. I didn’t think they still built commercial boats out of wood.” He looked at Dick again. “Didn’t you use to work in the yard here?”

Dick recognized the man’s face, couldn’t place him. The man pointed to a large catboat at a mooring. “You worked on my boat a couple of times.”

Dick looked. “Yeah. I remember your boat. An old Crosby.”

The man seemed pleased.

Dick said, “You used to let the Perryville School kids take her out.”

The man said, “That’s right, that’s right!” He was quite excited by this recognition.

Dick looked down the channel to see if the boys’ skiff was in view.

“Your boat wasn’t built in this yard,” the man said. “Was she built in a Rhode Island yard?”

Eddie said, “You could say that—he built her himself in his backyard.”

Dick looked up toward the parking lot. He saw Elsie’s Volvo. Then Elsie and Mary coming round the yard office.

“Good for you,” the man said to Dick. “That’s something I’ve always wanted to do myself.”

Dick said, “Something I’ve always wanted to do myself is be a brain surgeon.”

The man lifted his face in surprise. Then hurt spread across it slowly, like the stain of a dye-marker at sea.

Eddie said, “Dick. Jees. Take it easy.”

Dick breathed in and out through his nose and shook his head at himself. He said, “Yeah. I don’t know why I said that. Sorry.”

The man said, “I take your point. I only meant … congratulations on succeeding where so many merely wish.”

Elsie and Mary came down the gangplank to the dock. Elsie said, “Good. We’re not too late. Mary brought a bottle of champagne for May to christen her with.” She turned to the old man. She said, “Hello, Mr. Potter,” and kissed him on the cheek. She introduced Mary Scanlon to Mr. Potter. Then Dick and Eddie. Mr. Potter shook their hands.

Dick felt stupid and mean all over again.

Elsie looked around brightly. “Are your boys here? I don’t see them. I stopped in to see Miss Perry on the off chance she might be able to … She sends her congratulations. Captain Texeira was there, so he came along.”

Mr. Potter asked after Miss Perry.

“Much better,” Elsie said. “Would this be a good place to take pictures, Dick? Or should I get up someplace high and shoot down? There’s sort of a splash, isn’t there?”

“Not supposed to be. She’s on a marine railway, she’s not going to skid in.”

“Oh. Well, maybe Schuyler will get here. He’s back, so maybe he’ll show up and we can use two cameras.”

Dick felt a terrible new intimacy, as though he and Elsie were stuck to each other, floating through the air out of control in front of a crowd, which Elsie didn’t notice or didn’t care about, because she kept pressing her face in to him. No, she did notice, because she was also waving to the crowd.

Dick shook his head.

“Dick,” Elsie said, “maybe the roof of that shed.” She really did put her hand on his forearm. “I want to be sure to get May in.”

“Fine,” Dick said. “Anywhere out of the way.”

He saw the skiff at last, coming up the channel. He looked up to the parking lot and saw Charlie drive in. Parker was with him.

Dick said to Eddie, “Have Tom stand by with the skiff right here.”

He walked up to the parking lot. The manager was rounding up his crew.

Parker slapped Dick on the shoulder.

“How you doing, old buddy? Goddamn, look at that! There she is, your own genuine, self-financed, offshore boat, fully guaranteed for five years or fifty thousand miles, whichever comes first. Who-ee!”

Charlie laughed.

“Now, that is a boat, son.” Parker shook Charlie’s shoulder. “And your old man’s the one that built it. What do you think of that?”

Charlie was embarrassed.

Dick said, “He knows the boat. He did some work on her too.”

“Well, there you go,” Parker said, releasing Charlie’s shoulder. “Say, Dick, I hear you took
Mamzelle
out while I was gone.”

“That’s right,” Dick said. “Somebody had to check those pots.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Parker said. “I’m obliged to you. Maybe we can have a little talk later on in the day, catch up on each other. After you get squared away.”

Parker strolled off to look at the boat. Charlie’s gaze followed his wake. Dick felt the air was filled with secrets.

Charlie said, “He was on board when we got there, so we explained, and he just got in the car with me.” Charlie sounded dubious.

“That’s fine,” Dick said. “Your mother just sees the one side to him. I wouldn’t want you boys to ship out with him, but he’s … got his good side.”

Charlie said, “I guess he’s got a sense of humor.”

Dick looked sideways at Charlie to make sure it was his son who made this remark. Nothing to it really, but it came out so flat, saying just so much.