Summer People

by Marge Piercy

  Susan snorted a fake laugh. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little late for that resolution, staying out of Willie’s bed?’

  ‘No. Anytime we part like this is too soon. I still love you. You’ve never been able to be close to another woman the way you were with me. Maybe you can only open up with a woman if she’s your lover and you trust her with your body.’ She wondered if she embraced Susan, if Susan would soften.

  ‘That’s typical of your complete egotism. I have no trouble whatsoever making friends. I’ve been getting quite close to Candida this summer.’

  ‘Close? You don’t know the second thing about each other.’ She was tempted to tell Susan that she probably knew more than Susan did about Candida, including who she was having an affair with, but it occurred to her she couldn’t be sure Susan wouldn’t repeat that to Candida. She had no legal right to walk across the MacIvors’ land, simply the habit of years of trespassing. ‘Look, standing here trading insults is too sad. Arc you telling me you have no regrets?’

  ‘Regrets! I have thousands. All the years I’ve wasted here. All the years burned up freezing beans and picking blackberries and smoking salmon. My god, I can live in a place where you can walk to the store and buy anything in the world. The two of you are so self-satisfied and so boring, finally!’

  ‘Ah, Susan. What can I say? Have a nice life. Goodbye.’

  As Dinah trudged across the yard, dodging the piles of lumber, Willie motioned to her from the door of his studio. She shook her head violently and kept walking, her vision wavering with tears. If she could be transported back a year, two years, however many years it would take to predate Susan’s long anger, could she conduct herself enough differently to keep Susan? It was pointless to ask. Nobody was offering a ticket into the past. It was blown, it was gone, it was past. She had to deal with her own problems. She snuffled her tears back.

  She had to decide about Itzak and her fear and her desire. It seemed to her as she plodded through the hot heavy afternoon blurred by the saltwater prisms of her lashes, that she could easily turn and live as a celibate hermit. Kick Jimmy out to move in with Laurie. Cut her losses on the addition. Rip out the phone. Let the mail moulder at the post office. Hole up and write music and the hell with the pesky lot of them. The hell with everybody.

  Maybe she’d take that job in California for five months. Jimmy could rent her house. She’d take the cats along; that would be part of her conditions for filling in on a month’s notice. The truth was, teaching turned her on in prospect; in reality, she did it well but hated it. It was the opposite of composing, talking about what was not the province of words, which is why she had never gone the academic route, making neat and orderly what was mysterious. But what the hell, for five months, wouldn’t it be worth it to fly off and leave her life untenanted, abandoned? Be paid for escaping the mess she had made. She would brood on it, seriously. Even the consideration of that job was proof her life had irrevocably changed its course.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  LAURIE

  Laurie said, ‘But, Daddy, you don’t understand. Bob Sampson is gay. Going out with him has no point.’

  ‘How dreary. No, I didn’t know.’ Tyrone grimaced, sitting on the rail that ran along the deck. Candida was lying out on the raft, at least two hundred yards offshore and well out of earshot, but they spoke softly anyhow.

  ‘Besides, you know I’m practically living with Jimmy.’

  ‘The summer’s almost over, my dear. I’m proud of you, do you know that?’

  She was startled, for she had been bracing herself for a lecture on how foolish her attachment to Jimmy was. ‘Why, Daddy?’

  ‘Because of the recovery you’ve made. You were dealt a dreadful accident, one that was scandalous, embarrassing, one that would have been difficult for a woman of twice your age and four times your experience to handle gracefully. You’ve made the most of this time out of the city. I thought you would need a year, two years, to recover your poise and your momentum.’

  ‘Jimmy has really helped. He’s given me a great deal of confidence.’

  ‘Confidence is not a gift anyone can give you, Laurie. People can aid you in its development or interfere, but only you yourself can make it happen. I’m sure you’ll always be grateful to him for being there during this period, but the strength is yours.’

  His finally talking about Jimmy with her and his praise of her confidence made her dare to take a personal tone with him also. ‘Daddy, isn’t your relationship with Candida a little unusual for you, also? There you are dodging through the woods to see her. Meeting her on the raft.’

  ‘I haven’t been as subtle about it as I thought, have I?’ He smiled and took her arm, steering her inside through the French windows. ‘It’s addictive, but I’m aware it’s a bad risk. As I said, the summer is drawing to a close and the fall provides a natural quietus to many activities.’

  Nonetheless at dusk she saw him swimming out to the raft. Candida and he were both excellent swimmers. Alec was not. The little pavilion on the raft with the air mattress inside offered privacy for them to meet when Alec was around and the MacIvor house was off bounds. The raft was a great place to make love, floating on the bosom of the pond in the soft warm night. She and Jimmy had used it a couple of times before she had realized Tyrone had the same idea. Tyrone had been in New York most of the week and was off to Boston tomorrow, so she excused his eagerness to see Candida in spite of Alec’s presence. August was Alec’s vacation, so he was always here.

  The next day Jimmy came over early at three, very upset. ‘This guy named Sampson came by today while Willie and I were working on the stairs and told us we should finish them and then stop. He said he’s buying the building and he’s going to turn it into condos. What about your gallery?’

  ‘Jimmy, he’s crazy. I haven’t changed my mind. I suppose Daddy talked to him at some point when he was feeling discouraged about permits, but he’s off the wall, absolutely.’

  ‘Let’s go see Tyrone right now.’

  ‘Daddy’s in Boston on business. He won’t be back until late tonight. I’ll catch him in the morning. I’ll wake early and have breakfast with him.’

  Jimmy was truly anxious. He wasn’t interested in supper or in making love, but went back to Dinah’s at nine. She sat up watching a stupid baseball game that went into extra innings between two random teams. The Mets were her team. This was the Blue Jays playing the Red Sox. She watched because she was disappointed in the evening, annoyed with Jimmy, bored. She did not enjoy sitting in the boathouse that suddenly felt tiny, but she could not think of anyplace to go. She and Jimmy had seen all the movies. Tyrone always said the locals had nothing to do in the winter but drink. She could not remember how she had spent the previous winter. She had been too numb to care. Probably she had been totally engaged trying to figure out whether to fall in love with Jimmy. In the morning she’d talk to Tyrone. Of course he hadn’t sold her gallery.

  At breakfast he said, ‘I was waiting until the negotiations were settled in New York. I told you I’m proud of you. I mean to show it. You don’t need a dry run operating a summer gallery in a resort. I’m bringing you into a new gallery on Prince Street. The space is excellent. Your partner will be Sean Corrigan …’ Tyrone paused, smiling.

  ‘Sean Corrigan! He’d never agree!’

  ‘He already has.’

  ‘Daddy! I can’t believe it. He’s really willing?’

  ‘Eager, my dear. You have a shot at establishing an important gallery for breaking artists. He has excellent contacts, but you’ll have to ride herd on him financially. You’ll be the real manager, the business side, the one ultimately in charge. You’ll be the partner with the lion’s share, so you can learn to roar, softly but whenever appropriate … Does that please my brave daughter?’

  Sean Corrigan was a youngish art critic with a big reputation. He was extremely good looking, gay of course but friendly enough to women and someone she absolutely admired, although when she had m
et him at Manning Stanwyck’s gallery, he had paid her no attention. Not only was he an arbiter of taste, but he was someone people would kill to be seen with. It was unbelievable. ‘Are you sure he’ll do it? Really, that he’ll share it with me?’

  ‘No question.’ Tyrone handed her a sheet of computer runoff. ‘Here’s his address, his public and his private numbers. He’s expecting you to call him, so summon your nerve and catch him this week. I thought we might have him up Labor Day weekend.’

  ‘Daddy, what about the gallery in town?’

  ‘I can unload it at a tidy profit, which I mean to pump right into your Prince Street gallery. You’ll make that into a place people want to be seen, where people fight for invitations to openings. Everything is to be done correctly, from the beginning. That’s what I’ve promised Sean, and that’s what I’m promising you.’

  ‘Mr Sampson is buying the house in town?’

  ‘For a hundred more than I’ve put into it. He thinks he can clear twice that.’

  She could see herself, wearing one of those new asymmetrical slit sheaths, presiding at Sean’s side over a perfectly catered opening not even worrying if The Times would cover it, because of course they would. Sean was a man who conferred status simply by his presence. It was an incredible coup. At the same time she was frightened. Would she be good enough? Would she know enough to keep up her side? ‘Daddy, this must be horrendously expensive.’

  ‘It’s an investment, my dear. You’ll make sure it’s a sound one. I have faith in you.’

  Laurie felt as if she were going to cry, but she did not, as that would have distressed him; and she wanted only to please him. She felt humble and proud at the same time, humble before her father who sought to find what was best for her and counted no cost exorbitant. Nobody understood him the way she did, because nobody else knew how kind and generous he could be. What incredible faith he had in her to be sure she could carry off such a grand enterprise.

  She was rushing to the boathouse bubbling over to tell Jimmy, when she realized that he was not exactly going to rejoice in her news. So, he’d build the condominiums for the new owner, what did that matter? She imagined taking him to New York with her. What would he do in New York? Get a job as a carpenter? Well, he could work in the gallery too. After all, he had run a restaurant in Seattle. One that had failed. But that hadn’t been his fault. The bookkeeper had been embezzling money. Would he mind working under her? As the kind of assistant of all work she had been in her last New York job. Well, she had done it. Why shouldn’t he?

  Still, she had the sense that she was going to have to conceal her joy, and that was irritating. She would have liked to celebrate, but she did not think that Jimmy was going to want to celebrate this news with her. She would have to play it softly, give him the news in stages, over time.

  Jimmy was extremely upset and called Willie. The two of them talked forever, as if they hadn’t spent the day together. The only supper she got was fried clams and that not until nine. If Susan hadn’t been Jimmy’s mother and hadn’t been weird lately, Laurie would have run over to tell her. She felt annoyed with Susan for making such a fuss and tearing up everything. It rendered Susan useless. That was a nuisance, because ever since she could remember, she had always been able to count on Susan when she was happy as well as when she was unhappy. Susan would have given a party for her, made an occasion. Now Laurie had this great news, something splendid and special, and with her own boyfriend, she had to conceal the best part.

  She ended up confiding in Candida. After all, Candida was closer to Laurie in age than she was to Tyrone. She was eager to please. Grasping that Laurie was thrilled about the prospect of her own New York gallery with a man whom Candida had never heard of but quickly understood she should have, Candida offered to take Laurie out to lunch in Provincetown.

  They ate outside at a table under an umbrella, watching the yachts and fishing boats enter and leave the harbour, drinking wine at one, which felt almost decadent. They both ate chef’s salads. The Chardonnay made them quickly giddy. ‘I’m so unhappy with Alec,’ Candida said. ‘I’m bored out of my mind. All he talks about is urinary tract problems and the politics of the hospital. He gets narrower and narrower.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave him?’

  ‘I think about it.’

  ‘Well, why don’t you?’ Laurie felt calm and superior, in control of her life. She wanted to help Candida, who was six years older, but impulsive, confused. ‘After all, you don’t have children.’

  ‘He didn’t want to at first. Not till he was set up. Now we’re having so many problems, I don’t want to. I’d feel stuck.’

  ‘If you left him, how would you manage to live?’

  Candida looked shocked. ‘Of course I’d have a settlement. And besides, I have a trust fund. I’m not dependent on Alec. Really! How could you think I’d be so mercenary as to stay with him because of money?’

  ‘Of course not. I really do understand your hesitation. I was devastated when Tom killed himself, I mean by accident, if it was by accident. And we hadn’t been getting along at all. It was ghastly. Yet I hadn’t thought of leaving him. It’s hard to give it all up even when you’re unhappy.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Candida said, clasping her hands before her. ‘Before I met your father, I didn’t know how nice a man could be. He’s so different from other men, so much deeper and more cultured.’

  ‘The older I get, the more I appreciate him,’ Laurie said, delighted to find someone to discuss Tyrone with. Maybe Tyrone would marry Candida. She would rather like that. Candida was not as sophisticated as Glenda or Janette, both of whom had made her feel rather the ugly duckling. Candida was gorgeous, but she lacked polish. She dressed a bit like a tart. Laurie doubted if Candida knew how to entertain properly, but she could teach Candida and so could Sally. Candida would not be half bad as a wife for Tyrone.

  ‘Jimmy seems very sweet,’ Candida said. ‘He did a beautiful job on your cottage.’

  ‘He’s a darling. Did you know I practically grew up with him? I’ve known him since I was six.’

  ‘Oh, he’s your childhood sweetheart,’ Candida said, as if that explained everything. ‘That’s sweet. I never had a childhood sweetheart. I started dating when I was in junior high, but I wouldn’t care to face one of those beef-brained jocks again.’

  Jimmy lay limply on her couch as if he had no more strength. ‘Sure, the permits will be easier for condos, because there’s enough parking in the yard for six cars. It was a rooming house before.’

  ‘But what does it matter which you’re building?’

  ‘Sampson won’t use us. He likes Techmasters. They’re fast and sloppy and cheaper than we are. Because they cut all the legal corners and whatever illegal ones they can hide.’

  ‘Darling, I’m sorry too. I was looking forward to the gallery there. But the permits didn’t come through, and Tyrone couldn’t carry it any longer. You have to understand.’

  ‘Why aren’t you upset about losing your gallery? What are you going to do for work now?’

  ‘But I’ll have a gallery. He promised me that. If I don’t have it in that old house, it will be somewhere else.’

  ‘You’re awfully trusting for someone who just had the rug pulled out from under you.’

  ‘Tyrone is somebody you can trust, Jimmy. I will have a gallery, if not in one place, then someplace else. I know I’ll have one by next summer, as he promised.’ Carefully she did not say where. She was keeping quiet about New York until a better moment.

  ‘I’ve got to get Willie and finish up the addition on the old house so I’m free to take another job. Damn it.’ He sat up scowling. ‘I was using the gallery renovation to move into building. Now I’ll be back to having to work for somebody else. Nail-banging. It’s slowing down my plans.’

  She wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t be doing that long because they’d both be going to New York, but she did not want to make promises until she had talked with Sean Corrigan and knew tha
t he was willing. She still couldn’t believe her luck. She had to call him, but she was fearful. She had been a tweeny at Manning Stanwyck’s gallery when she had met Sean. It felt presumptuous to call him, particularly on his private line, as if she were pretending to be someone important, but she could not let Tyrone down. He had told her to be brave, and she must be.

  While Jimmy was working on Dinah’s addition, she did call Sean and left a message on his answering machine. She tried again two hours later. Then she had to dress. She was having supper with Tyrone and his guests.

  As they were sitting down to the cold lobster bisque, Tyrone said to the table in general that Sean had called him just before, and he would be spending Friday of Labor Day weekend with them. After that he would be staying with friends who had a house in Provincetown. She was so excited she lost the flow of dinner-table conversation. Tyrone had to nudge her under the table to bring her back. It was really happening. He had done this for her. She could hardly pay attention to anybody, with her head simmering. She could see herself walking into Elaine’s with Sean, into clubs so of the moment she had no idea what they were called, parties she had not only never been invited to, but so far out of her ken as never even to have heard about. She had to start calling her New York friends and letting them know she was coming back. Returning victorious. She would throw a party to demonstrate her new status. But where? At Tyrone’s? That was always possible, but still, she needed an apartment.

  ‘Daddy, I need a place to live.’

  ‘Of course. I already have Sally working on that.’

  Sally said to her softly, ‘I’m making calls. Saturday I’ll fly down and look things over. When I find some possibilities, you may want to pop in to check them.’