Summer House (30 page)

They were pretty much prepared, Helen thought. There was plenty of baby furniture in the house—a cradle, a change table, a high chair, and so on, but Mellie had laid claim to them in no uncertain
terms. “These are Wheelwright baby things, and at least we know my baby is a Wheelwright!” Mellie had hissed when Helen brought up the subject of the furniture. Mellie was going to have her baby in a hospital in Boston and wouldn’t be using the furniture for weeks, if she came back to the island at all, but Helen didn’t argue. She, Suzette, Teddy, and Charlotte went into Marine Home Furniture and indulged in an orgy of shopping: a crib, blankets, baby towels, paper diapers, and many unnecessary stuffed animals. Teddy had carried everything up to the third floor, for even though Helen had protested that Suzette wouldn’t feel like climbing so many stairs after having a baby and should move to the second floor, Teddy and Suzette herself had insisted they preferred it up there. That way, Suzette said, her crying baby wouldn’t wake everyone else in the house—only Charlotte, who said she slept like a log.

Helen carefully steered the convertible into its spot at the end of the gravel drive—on the far side, where no other vehicle might scratch it—gathered up her purse and book bag full of committee papers, and walked beneath the arch in the hedge into the garden.

Gathered on the shady patio was a small party—it only took a few members of the Wheelwright family to look like a party—Worth, Kellogg and Grace, Mandy and Claus, and Nona, snuggled in her wicker rocker and looking at her family with affection and happiness. Christian knelt on the slates by the far wall of hedge, running a model dump truck into the mulch and making growling noises. Baby Zoe lay nestled in her bouncy chair, watching everyone with bright eyes.

“You’re all here already!” Helen said. Automatically she went to Worth and pecked a kiss on his cheek. She always did this when Worth arrived; she’d done it for the thirty-one years of their marriage, and it was expected. She kissed Nona’s cheek, too.

Worth was still in his work clothes, although he’d discarded his suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, as had Kellogg and Claus. “The city is steaming. The air conditioners can’t keep up. It was too muggy to think.”

“Come on, Worth,” Kellogg said to his brother-in-law. “You just wanted to arrive in time for a sail.”

Worth grinned. “True. It’s supposed to turn stormy this weekend, and I want to get in a sail while I can. Anyone want to join me?”

“I do,” Kellogg said.

“Me, too,” said Claus.

“I’ve got to get the kiddies fed and bathed,” Mandy said.

Helen said, “I’m going to see if Glorious needs help pulling dinner together. Shall we say around nine?”

The men went off to change into swim trunks, then walked down to the shore, waded out into the water, hoisted themselves onto the boat, and set sail. Helen went to her porch, changed out of her committee clothes into a T-shirt, sarong, and flip-flops, and went down to the kitchen to confer with Glorious.

“I’ve got all the potatoes and salad I need,” Glorious told her, “but I only have enough chicken for four or five people. I could thaw a frozen one—”

“I’ll just zip back into town and get some fresh fish,” Helen told her. “We haven’t had any for a while.”

“Oh, Helen,” Glorious said, “you don’t want to be making that long drive again.”

Helen grinned. “I’m driving the convertible, remember? Teddy’s got the old Jeep. Want to come with me?”

Glorious started to shake her head and then smiled. “You know, I think I will. It would be nice to get out in a breeze.”

Helen loved being
with Glorious. The young Jamaican woman seemed to think that everything about the Wheelwrights was humorous, and she was tender and patient with Nona. Glorious was engaged to a Jamaican man who worked as a carpenter on the island. They were in no hurry to get married, but then Glorious didn’t seem to be in a hurry about anything.

As they drove the beautiful old convertible in to town, Helen turned on the radio, which still, amazingly, worked, and they listened to Ella Fitzgerald singing jazz, which was perfect for this summer evening. They went to Sayle’s and conferred about whether to buy
cod, halibut, or sole, chose the cod, and carried their purchase, wrapped tidily in white paper, out into the evening. The road back was narrow and winding. In summer the traffic moved like molasses, and sometimes this irritated Helen, but tonight with the soft music and the soft air and Glorious’s easy companionship, she relaxed and enjoyed the drive.

They were almost home when they noticed the car in front of them swerving back and forth over the road, and with an electrifying shock of fear Helen realized that it was Nona’s old Jeep. Of course, the island was crowded with old hunter-green Jeeps, but this vehicle had a row of Trustees of Reservations stickers on the back bumper. Helen was sure Teddy was driving.

“Oh, no,” Helen breathed. “That’s Teddy. And I think he’s drunk.”

As she spoke, an SUV rolled around a curve from the opposite direction, and even though the Jeep was quickly corrected and aimed for the right side of the road, the driver of the SUV laid on his horn, filling the gentle night with its piercing blare, then leaned out his window and yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dear God, dear God,” Helen prayed aloud.

“We’re almost home,” Glorious said reassuringly. Reaching out, she patted Helen’s hand, clenched white on the steering wheel.

They rounded the final curve, and Nona’s white gravel drive came into view. As they watched, Teddy made the turn, but he was going too fast, and he steered too sharply to the left. With a shriek from the tires as he slammed on the brakes, the Jeep hurtled across the road, rammed the old farm-stand table up onto its bumper, and plowed into the trunk of an ancient pine tree. The bang of impact was loud.

Helen steered the convertible onto the drive, switched off the ignition, and jumped out. The Jeep had come to a stop with its nose smashed against the tree trunk. The hood of was buckled and steam hissed from the radiator, spiraling up into the air.

Helen ran around to the driver’s side. “Teddy?”

The driver’s door opened and Teddy stumbled out with a big grin on his face. He held up his arms like an athlete who’d just performed an astonishing feat, as if expecting applause. “Ta-da!”

Helen reached out to steady him. “Teddy, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Mom, be cool.” He didn’t have so much as a cut or a bump on his head.

“Be
cool?”
Seeing her youngest child completely intact sent shock waves of relief through her, and then all at once she wanted to shake him. “Teddy, you’re
drunk!
You just wrecked the Jeep!” Even in her frantic state, she realized exactly where the accident had taken place. “Teddy, look where you are!”

Teddy staggered, held out his arms, and gave a bewildered smile. “I’m here, I’m not injured, and no one was hurt. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh, Teddy,” Helen said, and began to cry. “Look, for God’s sake! You’ve smashed up Charlotte’s farm stand. Thank God they’ve already closed up for the day. Fifteen minutes earlier, and you might have hit your own wife!”

Her words seemed to sober Teddy slightly. Then a familiar stubbornness possessed his features. “But the farm stand is closed!” he argued.

Helen felt an arm around her. “It’s okay, Helen,” Glorious said.

Helen breathed out, trying expel her fear and anger. “Teddy, we’re going to drive to the house. You can walk. It might sober you up a little. And while you’re walking, you can think of what you’re going to say to your father.”

When they got to the house, Glorious went on into the kitchen with the package of fresh fish. Nona was in the den, dozing in front of the television set. Helen looked out the window and saw the cat-boat just returning to the dock. Charlotte and Suzette were in the living room, talking with Grace about their day in the garden. When she went upstairs, she heard Mandy singing a lullaby to Christian, and for a moment Helen just leaned against the wall, remembering the days when she could tuck her children lovingly into bed, knowing they were safe.

She went into the sleeping porch, shut the door, and sank onto the daybed, holding her head in her hands. Her headache was back. It had been a long time since she had suffered from one, but this was intense. She didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell her that she was anxious,
not just about Teddy and his drinking but about her husband’s reaction. She had read books and attended meetings and talked to other parents about tough love, but she still didn’t know what to do. How did anyone ever know what the right thing was to do? Did Teddy drink because his father was so judgmental? Or was his father so judgmental because Teddy drank? Or was something slightly awry with his body chemistry? Everyone else in the family could handle alcohol. But there were no easy answers, and right now her concern was for Teddy’s wife and her unborn child.

When would be the best time to tell Worth about Teddy’s newest escapade, before dinner? After dinner? Should she let Worth fix himself a nice relaxing alcoholic drink first? She had been in this situation more times than she could remember over the past few years, and she knew she would leave Teddy to face his father by himself, if she weren’t so afraid of how it would affect Teddy’s wife.

She went into the bathroom, splashed water on her face, smoothed her tousled hair, and went downstairs and into the kitchen where Teddy sat at the table, drinking a cup of coffee while Glorious stood at the counter, slicing vegetables.

“Let’s go into the den,” she said to Teddy.

Teddy squirmed. “Nona’s in there.” The coffee seemed to have sobered him up.

“Well, your grandmother needs to know you’ve wrecked her Jeep,” Helen told him. “Would you rather go into the living room with your Aunt Grace and Uncle Kellogg?” Without waiting for an answer, Helen said, “Glorious, if Suzette comes down, will you please tell her to come into the den? And give us about thirty minutes before you start dinner.”

“You got it,” Glorious replied easily.

Just then Worth and Kellogg came into the kitchen from the mud-room. Worth’s hair was windblown, and the tan on his nose and cheeks had been burnished with fresh sun, giving him a healthy glow. He looked relaxed and happy.

“Worth, could you come into the den for a minute?” Helen asked. “We need to talk.” She kept her voice as pleasant as possible, but even she could hear the tension tightening her tone.

Worth frowned, puzzled. “Sure.”

In the dark den, the television set droned out the evening news. Nona was asleep. Helen walked to the other end of the room, where a complicated jigsaw puzzle had been laid out on the long refectory table a few days ago when it was raining.

“Teddy has something to tell you,” Helen said.

Worth looked wary. “Why do I think I’m not going to like this?”

Teddy lifted his chin defiantly and pasted a cocky look on his face, but Helen could see how his fists were clenched by his side. “Dad, I wrecked the Jeep.”

“Because you were drunk?”

“Yes, I was drunk. A little bit. But let me tell you why I was celebrating! I sold a nineteenth-century oil painting for ten thousand dollars! George had been trying to get rid of the old albatross for years, and I convinced the buyers that it was a masterpiece. By the time I was through sweet-talking them, they were so thrilled to possess it that they insisted on buying a few bottles of champagne and bringing them back to the shop. We drank them in the store in some Waterford crystal that I gave them as a little gift. What was I supposed to do, say, Sorry, I can’t drink with you? George was there too, and after the buyers left he did everything except dance with me, he was so pleased. So it’s not like I was staggering around in some dirty alley drinking a pint bottle of rotgut.”

“Bottom line, Teddy, you were drunk.” Worth ran his hands through his hair. He looked somber. He looked sad.

“You have to tell him the rest,” Helen said to her son.

“The rest?” Worth’s face darkened.

Teddy stuck his hands in the back pockets of his chinos and looked down at the floor. He looked like a little boy kicking rocks as he muttered, “I wrecked the Jeep when I ran into a tree. It just crumpled the hood, it’s not totaled, and I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“No.” Teddy’s voice trembled slightly. “But Mom’s freaked out because the tree is at the end of our driveway right where the farm stand usually is. I kind of smashed up Charlotte’s old table.”

“Yes, well, that freaks me out, too,” Worth said, and now he was
angry. He paced a few steps, turned, and paced back. “Teddy, we have been through all this before, too many times. When you got drunk at your brother’s wedding, I wanted to toss you out of the house then. It’s not that I don’t love you. You know I love you; that’s not the issue. The issue is that you’re an alcoholic, and as long as your mother and I allow you to remain under our roof, we’re abetting you in your drinking. We’ve given you second chances, we’ve given you third, fourth, and fifth chances, you can’t say we haven’t, and every time you disappoint us. And now you’ve upped the ante. Jesus Christ, what if you’d hit Charlotte—”

“But Dad, I
didn’t
!” Teddy cried out.

“You were driving drunk.” Worth’s voice was icy with rage. “Teddy, you were driving drunk. You could have killed someone. That is not acceptable. That is not forgivable. We’ve put up with you
being
drunk, but I will not put up with you
driving
drunk. You are never driving a vehicle belonging to this house again. I want you out. I want you and that—and
Suzette
out. I want you gone. I want you both off the island.”

“Worth.” Helen put out her hand to intercede.

Worth’s head whipped around as he looked at her. “You talked me out of this last time, Helen, and look what happened. Teddy hasn’t gotten better. He’s gotten worse.”

“Worth, Suzette is going to have a baby. She’s pregnant, she’s vulnerable, she’s in no state to travel. And Teddy has a job. It’s been six weeks since he had a drink. You’ve
got
to give him another chance. You can’t throw him out, not now.”