by Jane Green
Nell stands on the banks of the Saugatuck River and watches Lewis Calder glide past her in his boat, eight boys sweeping the oars on water so smooth it is a pane of glass. Her breath catches in her throat. She has never seen anything so beautiful. She sits on the bank of the river, feeling the same sense of peace she feels at the farm in Easton.
When Lewis gets off the boat, he comes straight over to her with a grin. He gives her a tour of the boathouse, introduces her to Coach Mangan. The coach asks about her interest in rowing and takes her to an ergometer and demonstrates how to row. He explains that she should keep her arms loose and relaxed, that all the strength comes from her legs. Lewis stands silently by, watching her as she tries it on the machine.
“We could use more young people here,” says one of the other coaches. “You should come back. You’re the perfect build for a rower.”
“Maybe I will,” she says, her legs slightly shaky.
“Do you want to get an ice cream at the market?” Lewis says. “You can call your mom and have her pick you up from there.”
Nell hesitates. Her mom is not the kind of mom who will drop everything, indeed drop anything, to come pick her up. The likelihood is her mom isn’t even home. She’s now starring in the new summer play at the Westport Country Playhouse, which means she’s probably in rehearsals all day.
“I can walk home,” she says. “It’s not far.”
“Okay. I’ll walk you home,” says Lewis, picking up his backpack and slinging it over a shoulder. “How’s that?”
five
Nell walks in the house, high as a kite, with plans to give rowing a try tomorrow. Which means more Lewis Calder. She’s practically dizzy with the turn her life has taken. It doesn’t even feel real yet.
She pauses just inside the front door, trying to gauge the temperature of the house. She does this a lot; they all do this a lot, pause just inside the front door to try to sniff out their mother’s mood, try to figure out who they need to be.
Lizzy is the only one who seems not to care, but perhaps it is because she is so young. No. Nell cared, even at ten. Nell always cared. She always knew to remove herself when her mother was in a bad mood. Meredith, on the other hand, would always try to make her mother feel better at such times.
Sometimes Nell can smell her mother’s state of mind as soon as she walks in. Other times she has to tiptoe around, waiting to see the expression on her mother’s face. Meredith has described it as a veil. Nell agrees that when her mother is in one of her moods, it is as if a veil of darkness has fallen over her.
Today Nell can’t tell what’s going on. The house seems unusually quiet. She puts down her backpack and goes into the kitchen. Neither of the other girls are there, which is always a bad sign. When their mother is in a good mood, they are all in the kitchen, doing homework at the table. Sometimes their mother is even there, cooking one of the few dishes she is able to make. Or she is with them, perched on a stool at the island as they all split a packet of Jaffa Cakes, which their grandmother sends over on a regular basis.
There is a tiny office off the kitchen. Now Nell can hear noises from the room, knows her mother is in there, and in a bad mood. She turns to leave, but it’s too late. She has been heard.
“Nell?”
“Hi, Mom.” Nell affects nonchalance. “I have a ton of homework. I’m going to go up to my room.”
Her mother appears in the doorway, invisibly veiled. “Where have you been?” Her voice is flat, as it always is when she is in a fragile state.
Nell freezes. She just wants to get away as quickly as possible, but she knows if she leaves too abruptly even that might trigger her mother.
“The new rowing club. I just went to check it out.”
“Oh. How was it?” Her mother comes in the kitchen now. “Do you want something to eat?”
“I’m fine,” Nell says. “It was great. I might try it.”
“How do you have the time? Between school and working on the farm, how on earth are you going to fit in rowing?”
“I don’t have to do it competitively,” Nell says. “I just thought it would be fun.”
“How much is it?”
“I don’t know anything about it. I just went to see it with a friend from school. Mom, I really have a lot of work . . .” She stops as a loud crash comes from upstairs.
“What the—?” Her mother runs up the stairs, Nell following behind.
As they reach the master bedroom, an overwhelming stench of Calvin Klein’s Obsession engulfs them. Her mother’s perfume. And on the floor, on hands and knees gathering up broken glass, a stricken look on her face, is Meredith.
“What the hell are you doing?” demands their mother.
“I’m really sorry.” Meredith is so frantically trying to pick up the mess that she hasn’t noticed she has already cut her fingers on the glass and blood is now dripping on the floor, mixing with the pools of musky perfume.
“Stop touching the glass!” shouts their mother. “What happened?”
Meredith looks down at the floor. Her cheeks are a glittery bronze, her eyes lined in black.
“Have you been using my makeup?” Their mother has expressly forbidden them to use her makeup, to touch her things, even to come into her bedroom unless they are invited. The only one who gets away with creeping into this bedroom is Lizzy, but here is Meredith, a chubby thirteen-year-old who has never been interested in clothes, hair, or makeup, standing before them all, made-up and bleeding.
“What have I told you about using my things?” says their mother, fury rising.
Nell wants to say something, to tell her mother to leave Meredith alone, that it was an accident. But experience has taught her that her mother is unable to hear when she is in this space, that she can feel nothing but her own rising tide of fury.
“How dare you,” she spits out, as Meredith stands still, looking down at the floor, her face bright red.
Nell knows how this will go. Her mother needs to get a reaction, needs to see Meredith cry. She knows she can make Meredith cry, and sometimes Nell thinks her mother somehow thrives on controlling that reaction. She’s often thought that is perhaps why Lizzy is never the victim of their mother’s worst furies. Lizzy won’t cry; Lizzy doesn’t care when her mother is upset. She just ignores her. As a result, nine times out of ten if Lizzy does something wrong, their mother will turn and start taking it out on Meredith or Nell.
“How dare you use my new bronzer! You look ridiculous, Meredith. Get it off. Who do you think you are? You look like a cheap hooker. You think the boys will start noticing you if you wear makeup? You’ll need to do a lot more than put on makeup. Losing thirty pounds would help for starters. Look at you. You’re enormous.”
Nell inhales sharply, willing Meredith to cry, for crying will end it. She is relieved when she hears Meredith take a great inhale of breath and then dissolve into loud, gasping sobs. It is exactly what their mother needed.
“Get out and get Estella to clean this up. Just get out.”
Meredith runs out in tears, and Nell follows her to her room.
• • •
“I hate her!” Meredith says as soon as they get in the bedroom, bumping her desk as she tears into the room, knocking a pile of pen and ink sketches to the floor. She throws herself on the bed, crying into the pillow. “I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!”
The door opens and they both look up, terrified their mother has followed them for some reason. But it is Lizzy.
“Get out!” screams Meredith, throwing the pillow at her. “Get out of here.”
“What did I do?” says Lizzy. “It’s not my fault you got caught and she’s in one of her moods.”
“How would you know? You’re never, ever the target,” says Nell. “You get away with everything. We’re left to deal with her craziness.”
“It’s not my fault I�
��m the baby.” Lizzy shrugs. “Plus, if you didn’t let it bother you, she wouldn’t do it.”
“Just fuck off,” Nell says, staring down Lizzy until she backs out of the room and closes the door. Nell knows Lizzy might be able to ignore her mother’s rants, but she won’t stand up to her big sister’s anger. She turns to Meredith. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I knew she was in a mood when I saw her in the kitchen. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to warn you.”
“I really do hate her,” says Meredith, her pillow now streaked with shimmery bronze. “I’m so jealous you’re a senior. I can’t wait to leave home and get away.”
“Me too.” Nell climbs on the bed and sits with her back against the wall. And she realizes that as much as she likes this town, and her new school, and Emily and Mrs. Sussman, and Lewis, it is true. She can’t wait to get out of this house. “A few more months and I will never live in this house again. I wish it was tomorrow.”
Meredith nods, reaching down and opening the door of her nightstand, burrowing around until she pulls out a huge bag of York Peppermint Patties.
“Want some?” she says to Nell, who shakes her head.
Meredith unwraps four at a time and swallows them quickly, barely tasting them, then four more, and four more. She keeps going until she starts not to feel better, but to feel nothing at all.
1997
six
Lizzy uses her toes to push the bedspread up, stretching out her arms with a happy sigh. Next to her on a cot bed is her best friend, Jackie, who is already awake, propped up against a stack of pillows, reading The Thorn Birds, which she grabbed from the bookshelf downstairs.
“Morning!” She yawns, rolling onto her side. “How’s the book?”
“Great,” says Jackie without looking up. “What are we doing for breakfast?”
“Want to bike ride over to Grubb’s?” says Lizzy. “Maybe the gang will be there. What time is it?”
Jackie looks up. “The clock on your nightstand tells us it’s nine forty-three.” She closes the book. “And I’m starving. Let’s go get some food.”
Lizzy gets up, examining herself in the small oval mirror on the wall. Her dirty-blond hair is kind of ratty, so she tips her head upside down and shakes it out before gathering it in a loose bun on the top of her head. She pouts at her reflection approvingly.
“Can I wear my pj’s?” she muses, looking down at the pink-and-blue-striped pants.
“You definitely can.” Jackie looks over at her. “You look insanely cool in everything.”
Lizzy examines herself in the mirror. It is true, she does seem to be able to pull off anything. She’s lucky. She looks just like her mother, with the same dirty-blond hair, green eyes, dark skin, and tiny body. Everything looks good on her. Everything works. It always has. Thank God, she now thinks, she wasn’t born an amazon like Nell or heavy like Meredith. Thank God she was born Lizzy.
The girls put on identical pairs of Converse shoes. Jackie pulls on a sweatshirt and then runs to the bathroom to straighten her bangs with the hair dryer and big round brush in there. They thunder down the stairs, whooping, for the house is empty and the girls are free to do whatever they want for the weekend.
The house is often empty these days. This weekend Lizzy is supposed to be with her dad, but she told him she had rehearsals for the school play and had to stay in town.
Just as they are running out, the phone starts to ring. “Damn,” Lizzy says with a twang, turning around to get the phone.
“Hello, darling, it’s Daddy. I’m just checking up on you, making sure you have everything you need.”
“Hi, Daddy.” Her voice is instantly little-girlish. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, peanut. I’m sorry you’re not with me this weekend. I was thinking maybe I could come up tonight and take you out for a special daddy-daughter dinner. We could go to Zanghi’s as a treat.”
Lizzy makes big fearful eyes at Jackie, who stifles a giggle. “Oh, Daddy, that would have been amazing. But we have a cast dinner for the school play after rehearsal tonight, and we all have to attend.”
“Of course. What about brunch on Sunday? I could come pick you up at eleven. I do want to see you soon. I have to be honest, I’m not real comfortable with you being in the house by yourself and your mother not being there.”
“Daddy! I’m sixteen! I’m not a baby. Also, Jackie’s staying with me and you know she’s very responsible.”
Her father laughs. “I know you’re both responsible. I’m not worried about that. I would just feel better if you had a parent around this weekend. What about brunch, then? How does that sound?”
“That sounds awesome,” she says, rolling her eyes at Jackie. “I’ll call you Sunday morning, okay? And don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, and I’ll call you if I need you. I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you too, peanut.”
Lizzy is smiling as she hangs up the phone. She loves her dad, but it is increasingly difficult to love him, given that her mother has hated him ever since the divorce (even though her mother was the one who was unfaithful, causing the divorce in the first place) and wants nothing more than for her daughters to hate him too. Ronni won’t forgive him for leaving her, and anytime the girls mention their father, their mother follows it with a snarky remark. They are learning to keep quiet about loving their father, needing him. These times, when their mother is away, are the only times Lizzy can feel unreservedly good about seeing her father.
She hangs up the phone and the two girls walk out the front door, leaning against each other, as Lizzy shakes her head. “I really don’t know why he would care. Like, what’s the worst that could happen? I throw a party and my mom’s house gets trashed? He hates her. He’d probably be happy.” Her parents don’t actually say they hate each other, but when her father has to ask about anything that involves her mother, she sees his jaw clench with a slight tick.
Not that she can blame him exactly. Lizzy loves and hates her mother in equal measure. She loves her more than her sisters do, she is sure, because she has never been in her mother’s crosshairs. She doesn’t quite understand why her mother’s moods bother her sisters so much. Or why they react to her the way they do. It just makes things worse. Lizzy figured out early on that the thing to do when her mother lost it was to laugh. Lizzy laughs, and her laughter invariably seems to diffuse her mother’s rage. Meredith tried the same approach, but when she laughed, it only served to make her mother angrier.
The people who set her off have always been Nell and Meredith, and their father. Not when they were all young, but as they got older, he ended up being a target too. None of them knew about her affairs. Once the marriage broke up, all three girls learned everyone else knew that their mother had been having affairs for years.
The affair that broke up the marriage was different. He was a guest director, brought in to direct a performance of A Doll’s House at the Playhouse. Ronni played Nora. Naturally. And fell in love with the director. Naturally. Except this one wasn’t just an affair. This one, Ronni announced, was her soul mate.
Her soul mate was her soul mate for two years. Ronni managed to be charming, and her best self, for a year and a half of those two years. Even Lizzy knew that the last six months were hell. She saw how her mother, once she felt the director distancing himself, became more and more needy, more and more stressed. She would explode at the girls, her now ex-husband, and eventually, the director. Who ended it by having another affair with a well-known actress in New York.
Ronni then tried to make her way back to Robert, realizing, perhaps, what she had given up when she had left him, but it had been too long. Lizzy’s father told her that the two years away from her mother had been the most peaceful of his adult life. He explained that the end of the marriage was painful only in that he saw his three daughters far less than he would have liked, but—he told them—at least he no longer had a
fourth daughter to look after in the form of an emotionally volatile wife. He was sorry he couldn’t protect his daughters from her, he told the girls, but he thought that if he went back to her he might die.
Lizzy knew her mother hated her father after that. She would roll her eyes anytime one of the girls would talk about their father, and fill them with stories about how boring he was, what a terrible father he’d been—traveling for work so much instead of having a relationship with them. She would get in one of her moods and rage in front of the audience that was her daughters that no one would make him happy again and he would never, ever find a woman like Ronni.
As it happens, Robert did find someone. None of the girls particularly like her. But Lizzy thinks that has less to do with her mother than it has to do with her and her sisters, who, despite recognizing how difficult their mother is, still feel an obligation to protect her.
Their father now lives in Greenwich with his new wife, which is, in itself, a major pain in the ass. If he still lived in Westport, Lizzy would definitely see him more. Going to his house for the weekend means having to miss out on her friends, and hangouts and parties in Westport. And that’s just no fun at all.
He will drive Lizzy back and forth, but she doesn’t want to be so far away; she doesn’t want to miss out on anything, not when being a sophomore is so much fun. It’s the perfect grade, she and Jackie have decided. You’re over the newness and overwhelmingness of being a freshman in high school, where the school is huge and you feel like the baby all over again, and going to the cafeteria at lunchtime fills you with dread because you’re terrified you’re not going to be able to sit with your friends, or anyone nice, and eating on your own means you’ll be designated a loser for the rest of your school days.
Then in junior year you have to spend all your time worrying about college, and the pressure is really on the first part of senior year, so sophomore year is perfect.
Not that Lizzy ever had to worry about who to sit with in the cafeteria. Not that, in fact, Lizzy has ever had a moment of insecurity in her life. She has always been popular, pretty, and perfectly well accepted wherever she goes.