Maggie and Delphine were at a café on Boylston Street. It was about three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon in January. Maggie was drinking herbal tea and Delphine was largely ignoring a cup of black coffee.
“That’s good,” Delphine said.
“I can’t decide yet if I want to go to Northeastern University or Boston University. I mean, each program has its strengths and specialties. Well, first, of course, I have to get accepted! And assuming, of course, I don’t blow the GMATs. I’ve signed up for one of those practice courses. It’s expensive, but I think it’s a good idea in the long run.”
“Right.”
Maggie touched Delphine’s arm. “Hey, I ran into Robert at the library earlier. He told me about the fantastic offer from the New York Times. It’s so exciting for him. And for you, too, of course.”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess?” Maggie looked more closely at her friend. “What’s up, Delphine?” she asked. “You seem so out of it lately.”
Delphine felt, in the pit of her stomach, a ghost of the panic she had experienced at the protest. “Nothing’s up,” she lied. “I’m fine. I just don’t really want to talk about all this stuff right now.”
Maggie gave her the stern schoolmarm look. “Don’t tell me you haven’t talked to your advisor yet about your future.”
“I will.”
“Delphine, what are you waiting for?” Maggie leaned in closer, her tone urgent. “You need to be applying to graduate schools. You need to be interviewing for internships. You need to make some decisions. There’s a lot of competition out there. You don’t want to be left behind.”
“I know; I know! Stop pestering me.” Delphine shot a look at the two guys at the table closest to theirs. She was afraid she had raised her voice. Neither of the guys seemed to have noticed.
“I’m not pestering,” Maggie said. “Well, maybe I am, but I’m doing it for a good reason. I care about you. I don’t want to see you miss an opportunity.”
Delphine took a deep breath. She hated that word, “opportunity.” Graduate school, an internship, a big corporate job. None of that sounded like an “opportunity.” It sounded like a nightmare. It sounded like someone else’s life, which was pretty much the same thing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be all pissy. I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed. I mean, there’s the wedding and—”
Maggie interrupted her. “What do you mean, the wedding? You haven’t even set a date. You shouldn’t be stressing about it. You should just try to focus on the next step in your career. One thing at a time, Delphine. Graduate school, a good internship, then a job. Robert’s not going anywhere. Well, he might be in Eastern Europe or somewhere exotic for a while, but you know he cares about you getting your career off the ground. He’s not going to abandon you.”
“I know he’s not going to abandon me,” Delphine protested. “That’s not the point at all.”
“Then, what is the point?”
Delphine shook her head. The point, she thought, is that I’m the one who’s going to abandon Robert. Either that, or I’m going to have to abandon my life.
“Nothing,” she said. “The point is nothing.”
41
“That’s the second time in two hours you’ve checked in with Lori. Don’t you think that if there was something wrong she would call you?”
It was a Tuesday afternoon and Maggie and Delphine were just leaving the Harraseeket Lobster Pound on the Freeport Town Dock. They had had lunch there, lobster rolls and onion rings. The onion rings, which were sweet, more like onion donuts, were Delphine’s idea. Maggie had eaten two, which was two more than she would have eaten if she were alone or with Gregory.
“It can’t hurt to let her know I can be home as soon as possible if anyone needs me,” Delphine argued.
“Did it ever occur to you that you’re just annoying her?”
Delphine put her phone in her pocket. “What?”
Maggie sighed. “I know it took a lot of arranging to get the afternoon free. Can’t you please just try to enjoy yourself?”
“I am enjoying myself.”
“Really?”
Delphine smiled. “Really.”
They walked to the Pound’s small parking lot. Delphine hadn’t seen Maggie in a couple of days. Work had kept her occupied during daylight hours. She had spent Sunday evening with her parents and Monday evening with Harry. There was a finite amount of Delphine to go around, and she tried hard to give every person a fair portion.
They drove—they had taken Maggie’s car, at her insistence—into the heart of Freeport to visit some of the outlet stores. This was another concession to Maggie. Delphine would have preferred to hurry back to Ogunquit, crisis or no crisis. She had already spent enough money—too much—on lunch. There would be no more spending money on luxuries.
“Look at this,” Maggie said. “This would look perfect on you.” They were in the Jones New York store. Maggie was holding up a simple, fitted cotton blouse with French cuffs. The color reminded Delphine of her mother’s homemade peach ice cream.
“It’s pretty,” Delphine admitted, “but where would I wear it?”
“You can wear it when you’re out with me.”
Delphine looked at the price tag. It wasn’t outrageous by any means and the idea of buying the blouse suddenly seemed dangerously appealing. But after a moment she said, “I’d rather spend the money on Kitty. She could use a new pair of sneakers.”
“Can’t her parents buy her new sneakers?” Delphine gave Maggie a look of reproach. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. None of my business.”
“She’s still not feeling well. Kitty, I mean. And she’s lost weight. I’m worried. A child shouldn’t be losing weight.”
“Maybe it’s ‘growing pains,’ ” Maggie suggested. “Kim went through a period like that. I think she was in fourth grade. She shot up like a weed and I had to practically force-feed her ice cream to keep her weight in step with her height.”
“But Kitty’s only eight. She’s prepubescent. No, I don’t think she’s having growing pains, whatever they are.”
“So, didn’t Cybel take her to the doctor?”
“Yeah,” Delphine said, “Dr. Waters, and he couldn’t find anything wrong with her. But I convinced Cybel to take her to see someone in Portsmouth, at the hospital. I found this doctor online and did some checking. Her reputation as a pediatrician is really strong. Dr. Waters is okay, but he should have retired long ago.”
“It’s probably nothing, you know.”
“Yeah,” Delphine said. “Hopefully.”
“Hey, I just had a brainstorm. Let’s go off to Boston for an overnight, maybe even a whole weekend. What do you say? Just us two, a real girls-only getaway? It will be like old times, only better.”
“Why will it be better?” Delphine asked.
“You’re impossible! I don’t know; it just will be. Come on, what do you say?”
Delphine struggled. She really didn’t want to give a categorical “no.” She didn’t. But the idea of committing to an overnight excursion was frightening. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it was. This one afternoon in Freeport felt enough like playing hooky to last her quite some time. Still, she had so enjoyed the four years she had spent in Boston. Things were different now, of course. So much had changed, and she didn’t mean that restaurants had come and gone. But she could visit the museums and take a stroll through the Public Garden and get a fun souvenir for Kitty. . . .
“All right,” she said. “But only if everything goes okay today and there are no disasters when I get back. Then, I’ll consider it.”
“Delphine, I’m not asking you to go away with me for a month.”
“It’s not easy for me, Maggie; you know that. I have responsibilities.”
“It’s like you’re like the president of a country, I swear, or the general of an army. You’re the self-appointed leader of the Crandall enterprise. You take on too much responsibility for too many peop
le, Delphine.” And get too little appreciation in return, she added silently.
“Someone’s got to do it.”
“Why you?” Maggie demanded. “Or, why always you? Jackie’s perfectly capable. So is Joey, I’m sure. And there’s Lori and Dave Junior.” She refrained from suggesting Harry’s name.
“Yes, but . . .”
“But what?”
But I’m nobody, Delphine thought, if I’m not the person that everyone counts on. That’s just the way it is with me. That’s just who I am. Rather, it’s who I’ve become.
“But nothing,” she said. “And I’m not buying that blouse, so you can put it back where you found it.”
“You could wear it when we’re in Boston.”
“No. You’re assuming we even get to Boston.”
Maggie sighed. “All right, all right. I guess I can’t win every battle. But I am taking you to the Coach outlet next.”
Delphine reached for her phone. “Let me just call Lori again.”
42
“It’s exactly what you need, Delphine,” Jackie said. “You haven’t had a real break in years. Go to Boston and go crazy. But not too crazy. We need you back home.”
When Maggie had dropped her at the house that afternoon Delphine had gotten into her truck and driven immediately to the farm. She wanted to talk to Jackie about the idea of an overnight trip to Boston before she lost the nerve.
“You’re sure you can handle things without me?” Delphine asked, half hoping her sister would change her mind. “If you have any doubts at all I’ll tell Maggie I can’t go.”
Jackie had given her a look of mock annoyance. “Are you saying you doubt my ability to run this place for twenty-four hours?”
“No, no, it’s not about that. I—”
Jackie had grasped her sister’s arm. “Go to Boston,” she said. “Please.”
Delphine had then gone directly to her office and called Maggie. Maggie was thrilled. They would leave the following Tuesday morning and return to Ogunquit on Wednesday evening. That gave Delphine plenty of time to prepare everyone for her absence. Maggie would search online for a deal at a decent hotel. Delphine wondered if she had a bag big enough and nice enough that would satisfy as a suitcase. When she had gone off to college she had stuffed her belongings in duffel bags her mother had gotten at Renys. She didn’t think it would be appropriate for a grown woman to bring a duffel bag into a nice hotel. And it might embarrass Maggie. But no, she thought. Maggie might tease her about carrying scruffy luggage, but she wouldn’t be embarrassed. As Delphine had told Jemima, Maggie wasn’t shallow, in spite of her interest in appearances.
Delphine left the farm around six-thirty and went home. She fed Melchior, who then retired to the living room couch, and made a light dinner of salad greens, tomatoes, hard-cooked eggs, and chickpeas. She took the plate upstairs to her desk and opened her laptop. While she ate, she would browse the Internet for current information about Boston.
Boston. Where she and Robert Evans had met. Well, Cambridge, to be precise. That afternoon on the drive back to Ogunquit, Maggie had asked her what she would do if Robert walked into town that very day, declared his undying love, and asked her to go away with him. The question, hypothetical as it was, outrageous as it was, had given her pause because she had never posed it to herself, not once in all the years since she had last seen him at Maggie’s graduation party. Though Robert had offered, Delphine had not let him see her off at the bus station days later.
Maybe, Delphine thought, eating her salad and staring unseeingly at the screen of her laptop, she would try to get in touch with him. It wouldn’t be that hard. He was a public figure; he probably had a page on Facebook or some other social or business networking site. She could write to him at one of the magazines or newspapers in which he regularly published. She could write to his book publisher. There was nothing holding her back but her own fears. There never had been. She had set the obstacles all along. Like when she hadn’t gone to that Bartley College reunion. She had been afraid that if she ran into Robert she would suddenly realize that she had made the wrong choice all those years ago. She was afraid she would be overwhelmed by regret, and forced to live rest of her life in misery.
But now . . . Delphine wondered if she really had the strength to come face-to-face—or e-mail to e-mail—with Robert without it resulting in disaster. She didn’t know. And she had no idea of what she might say to him. Still, she could reach out if she wanted to. The possibility was there. But why would she want to? What would be the goal, the hope behind this? She could offer another apology, whether he deserved one or wanted one. She could offer a simple greeting. “Hey, just thinking of you and hope you’re well.” She wondered what she might want from Robert in return. An acknowledgment that she existed for someone out in the larger world, if that even mattered. A kind word of forgiveness. She really didn’t know.
Of course, there was the possibility that Robert might not respond at all. He might no longer care about her. He might still be angry. He might send her a nasty note, decrying her lack of courage, demanding to know why she hadn’t responded to his letters all those years ago, declaring his regret at ever having met her. She thought she might not ever get over that kind of rough dismissal.
Delphine shook her head. She would take no chances with her peace of mind. It was better to concentrate on the immediate future, her trip to Boston, than to speculate about a reunion of sorts she was pretty sure she didn’t even want, a reunion Maggie had forced her to consider. She put her empty dinner plate aside and went to the Museum of Fine Arts site. There was a show of portraits by early American itinerant painters there, and she had always loved portrait painting. Maggie might like that, too. There was an exhibit at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum she would like to see, terra-cotta sculptures of the Italian Renaissance. She wasn’t sure how Maggie would feel about that one. She found a secondhand bookstore on Beacon Hill that might be worth a visit, even just to browse if she found she couldn’t afford the prices, which was likely. She had absolutely no idea of what restaurants were popular and she assumed that Maggie would want to eat at upscale places rather than pubs and diners, so there might be some tension there. But they would deal with the food situation together. They would compromise.
Compromise. That was one thing that neither she nor Robert had been willing or able to do. He had known who he was and what he wanted from his life. So had she. Delphine thought about her relationship with Harry and wondered what Harry was giving up or doing without in order to be with her. Nothing, at least nothing that she could see. As for herself . . . But sacrifice was necessary in a relationship, wasn’t it?
She thought about the fact that she and Harry had never gone anywhere, not once in the ten years they had been together. Harry had no interest in seeing other parts of the country, certainly nothing south of Massachusetts. When he visited his brother in Framingham, he went alone. He had never asked if Delphine would like to spend a weekend in Montreal or Greenville or even Portland. And she had never asked him to go away with her.
Delphine shut down her laptop and sighed. She supposed she should tell Harry pretty soon about her plans to go to Boston with Maggie. She looked at her watch. He was working right then; she could call him on his cell, though he didn’t like to talk on the phone while driving. She could leave a message on his home phone. But something held her back. She realized that she was a bit afraid of telling him. Harry had never mentioned his meeting Maggie in the hardware store. Whatever he thought about her, it wasn’t friendly. But even if he didn’t like the idea of Delphine’s going away with Maggie, and he wouldn’t, there was nothing he could do about it. She wasn’t a child and he wasn’t her parent. She wasn’t his wife, someone who would be expected to consult a husband about an impending vacation. She was a free agent as far as Harry was concerned. She could do what she liked.
And then there was Jemima. She would tell her about the trip the next time she saw her, which might not be for a
day or two, as Jemima had accepted a few additional shifts at the restaurant. Suddenly, in her mind’s eye, Delphine could see the look of disapproval on Jemima’s face, the unfounded look of suspicion or criticism. She might be forced to explain or defend her decision to leave town....
Jackie, as a matter of course, would tell her parents and the other Crandalls. Delphine’s sense of apprehension grew. There would be disapproval, puzzlement, possibly concern. She wondered if her family would be right to be concerned about her. She wondered if she was doing the right thing in going away or if she was, after all, making a big mistake.
Because one little step in a new direction might just lead to a whole series of steps in that new direction. She might lose the staid and comfortable life she had known for so long, the life she had worked so hard to create and to maintain.
Delphine got up from her desk and began to pace. She was aware of a growing knot of tension in her shoulders. She was aware of a headache stealthily approaching. She was aware of her stomach jumping nervously.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go away with Maggie. It wasn’t too late to call off the whole thing. Maggie probably hadn’t yet booked a hotel, and even if she had, people canceled reservations all the time. And if there was a cancellation fee, Delphine would pay it, as a reminder of her folly, as a punishment for risking the status quo.
Maggie would be mad. What reason could she possibly give her for backing out, other than the usual excuses she’d been reciting for weeks? Jackie, too, would be puzzled, ask questions, would pry into her motives for canceling. Jemima would smile knowingly.
Delphine felt her heart racing and sank onto her bed. She realized she was allowing herself to come close to a full-blown panic attack. She had gone from reasonably, even happily planning the trip to chaos in mere minutes. She hadn’t felt so out of control of her thoughts and emotions for years.
She felt ashamed of herself. She was a grown woman, not a child. She knew she should not be so afraid of disappointing others, fearful of their opinions about her. She knew she should not base her actions, her decisions, on the desires of other people. She knew that if even one night away from home was frightening her so badly there was something deeply wrong with her life.
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