by Jane Green
“I’m not bringing you four,” Nell says. “I checked the dosage the other day. It’s one to two.”
“Two doesn’t do anything anymore,” says Ronni. “Bring me four and I promise I won’t take more than two at a time.”
Nell stands up.
“Wait,” says her mother. “Come here.”
Nell moves to the bed and takes her mother’s hand, resting it in her own, knowing her mother can no longer move it.
“Lovely Nell,” Ronni says, smiling. “My firstborn. Do you know how you changed my life when you were born? I was obsessed with you. I couldn’t tear myself away from you. When you were asleep I would go in and sit next to the crib and just watch you. My heart would swell with so much love for you, I don’t know how it didn’t burst. My quiet, strong observer. You have always watched, Nell, never plunging in the way Lizzy does, and you have a strength and self-possession Meredith does not. And River, child of your own, what a beautiful boy child you have grown, all by yourself. Lewis Calder . . .” She gives a slight shake of her head. “What a waste of space he was, other than to give you River. How I wish you had found someone to make you happy. I know you don’t think you need anyone, but love would soften you, Nell, allow you to let your guard down.”
“Maybe,” says Nell, thinking of Greta as a smile plays on her lips.
“Is there something I should know?” asks her mother, eyes widening in deliberate surprise, although Nell suspects her mother knows something already.
“Maybe.” Nell blushes. “It’s early days. Too early to say anything, really. It might be nothing.”
“Is he lovely?”
Nell freezes. What does she say? How does she tell her? This isn’t something her mother can handle, surely.
“Or is it a she?” asks her mother simply as Nell looks at her in shock.
“How did you . . . ?”
“It was a lucky guess. Whoever she is, she is lucky. Love is love, Nell, in whatever form or shape it comes, and those of us who have found it must not let anything get in the way. I never taught you how to love, and I am sorry I was so uninvolved with you. I neglected you. And I wish I had done things differently.”
“I survived,” Nell says flatly, attempting to shrug it off.
“But you haven’t thrived. And that is my fault. I was raised by parents who told me that every single thing I did was charmed. They showered me with attention and praise, and I grew up hating them for it, blaming them for growing into an adult who needed ridiculous amounts of attention and praise in order to feel worthy. I thought I was doing you a favor by withholding it. I thought you would develop strength of character, self-possession, without needing shallow praise or attention to make your way in life.”
“Looks like you did a pretty good job,” says Nell. “I just can’t seem to get to a place where I can thank you for it.”
“I don’t blame you for being angry. I’m angry. With myself. I only realize now that I could have done things differently. In life there’s always a balance. My childhood was one extreme, and as a result, I raised you with the other extreme. Neither is right.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom,” says Nell, thinking how this is far too little, too late.
“I did the best I could, given how I was raised,” her mother persists. “If I could go back and do it differently, I would.”
Nell looks at her mother then and sees her eyes brimming with tears.
She has no more time, Nell realizes with shock. No more time to figure it out, to work through the differences, to heal the distance with her mother. This is it. And something in her softens as unexpected tears spring into her eyes.
“I forgive you,” Nell says, finding as the words come out that she means it. “It has all worked out for me. At least I hope it might. I think I may finally have a glimpse of what happiness feels like.”
“My lovely, strong Nell. You were always my favorite.” She sighs, closing her eyes. “Don’t tell your sisters.”
Nell’s heart swells as she leans over and gives her mother a kiss.
“Go get my pills,” says her mother, smiling into her daughter’s eyes. “I love you so much. I love all of you so much.”
forty-four
Mommy!” Connor rushes out of the car and races toward Lizzy, who picks him up, squeezes him tight, and bursts into tears.
James follows behind him, grabbing from the backseat the ubiquitous bag filled with toys, snacks, and baby wipes to clean up the mess he will inevitably make.
Lizzy croons into Connor’s hair as he starts to wriggle, demanding to be put down, to run around this huge driveway! Climb those trees! Race in circles on the lawn!
She turns to James, wiping the tears off her cheeks and smiling. There he is, she thinks. Heartbreakingly familiar and stable and loyal. There he is, my husband, who is raising our son, who may play computer games too much but is such a good man, the man I should have been paying attention to all along.
It feels like it has been months since she saw him. She may not have been in Connecticut for long, but it’s true, she hasn’t really seen him in months, all her attention sucked up by Sean, by the excitement and thrill of the affair she kept trying to give up. The affair that is over for good.
I never saw it, she thinks. I never saw how much I would be giving up. Stupid, stupid me. She walks toward James, uncomfortable, no idea how to greet him. The dynamic of their relationship had always been that James was the lover, and Lizzy the loved. He had loved her more, had pursued her, had poured affection and sweetness all over her. Until he didn’t.
He stands, watching her.
“Hi,” she says, a half smile on her face, wondering if she should hug him. Wondering how long it has been since she and her husband have even touched, let alone hugged.
“Hey,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m a bit later than planned. We decided to drive rather than take the train, and then traffic on I-95 was hell.”
“Traffic on I-95 is always hell,” says Lizzy. “I don’t know what happened. It always used to be an hour, and now it never seems to be less than two.”
“Yup. So. How is everything here?”
“It’s . . . sad. And uncertain. And also, there’s exciting stuff. Lots of changes. We really need to talk.”
“I know,” says James. “I know.”
“Meredith is out for a walk, but Nell’s here. Maybe we could leave Connor with her for a bit and, I don’t know, go for a coffee or something? Does that sound okay?”
“Sure,” James says. “That sounds perfect.”
Nell of course is more than happy to be with Connor, so Lizzy and James are soon at Neat, which is quiet, just a few people dotted around at tables, with one person at the counter.
“I remember coming here last year,” says James, looking around. “And it was packed.”
“Yeah. This time of year, the whole town is on Nantucket,” says Lizzy.
“Really? Why would people leave? You have the beach right here.”
“I know, but it’s still home, you still have your usual shit to do. Tons of people in Westport head to Nantucket for the summer. I hear Iceland is pretty big this year too, and apparently Greece is particularly hot. Nice for us, though. It means we get a table. When were you here last year?” asks Lizzy. “What for?”
James colors. “Just a meeting.”
“I know you talked to my mother,” she says gently. “She told me you asked her for advice. Was that when you were here?”
He nods. “I guess you’re mad that I went behind your back?”
“No. I’m sorry that we couldn’t figure it out between the two of us. I totally understand why you turned to her.”
James looks relieved.
They sit, order cappuccinos, and Lizzy takes a deep breath and starts to tell James about her plans. She tells him about the farm. Although he ha
s visited, he can’t picture the hay barn, so she describes it in detail. She tells him about setting up a permanent base, with plans for pop-up supper clubs in the orchard, although the details have yet to be worked out. She tells him that they could all move out there, to Easton or Redding or Ridgefield or Georgetown—somewhere where Connor could ride a bike and grow up learning where food comes from, not by visiting farmers’ markets, but by growing it themselves.
“It would be a fresh start.” Lizzy’s excitement is bubbling up. “I know things have been really hard between us, but we could start fresh here. I have such a good feeling about this, James. I think this is what we need, this is what we’ve needed for so long. If we keep doing what we’ve been doing, we will get what we have always got, and that isn’t enough. I want something different for my life. I want something different for Connor. And I want something different for us.” She stops, filled with anticipation, the expectation that James will see it, that he will jump on board.
James nods, thinking. “And what about Sean?” he says.
“I’m going to take on a lawyer to figure out how to disentangle our partnership. He can keep the supper clubs in the city. I plan on doing this by myself. I don’t need a partner anymore. I’d love you to be more involved, which I think you can be once Connor starts kindergarten this year. We can do this, you and me.” She grins.
“What about your affair with Sean?”
Lizzy’s heart lurches. “That’s over. You know that’s over.”
“I know you said it was over,” James says quietly. “I know we went to couples counseling because you promised it was over and you would give our marriage a go. And I know it has been continuing ever since. So, I guess I’ll ask again. What about Sean?”
“It really is over now,” whispers Lizzy, stricken. She has no idea how he knows, and she cannot ask.
“I think our marriage is too,” says James. “I’m sorry this is happening now, when your mother is going through what she is going through, but I can’t do this anymore.” He shakes his head, sadness all over his face. “The betrayal is too much. I’m excited for you that you have these ideas and I’m sure Nell’s farm is the perfect spot. And honestly, I’m not averse to moving out here with Connor if you go through with this. As you pointed out, Connor will be starting kindergarten soon, and we could put him in public schools here, and I’ll have more time. I can freelance from anywhere. I could find a place close to you so we can split our time with Connor.” He stops, noticing that Lizzy is crying. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“I get it,” says Lizzy, thinking, oh, the irony, that here it is: the consequences her mother said she never dealt with. She rubs her eyes with the end of her sleeve. “I’ve been a fucking idiot and this is totally what I deserve. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Yeah,” says James. “Me too.”
forty-five
Where’s Billy?” says Nell, after Meredith has arrived back at the house on her own, thrilled to see Connor, who she has only met twice, and briefly at that.
“He left,” says Meredith. “There isn’t a story here. Not with Mom planning on assisted suicide, like, now.”
“It’s not going to be now,” says Nell. “She’s going to have to wait.”
“I know that, and I said that to Billy, but as he pointed out, it’s just going to be sadness. He wants to write something, but there’s no documentary, and he feels like he’s intruding by being here.”
Nell frowns. “We like him being here. It isn’t an intrusion. And Mom invited him.”
“Yes, but he’s gone. He says he’ll drop by later and say good-bye to Mom, explain to her that he has what he needs to write a retrospective about her. You know he taped her, right? Talking about her life?”
“No. I didn’t. Are you okay with him leaving?” Nell peers at her sister.
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You do like him, don’t you?”
Meredith shrugs. “I just got rid of my fiancé this morning, and quit my job. I have absolutely no idea what my future holds. I don’t know where I’m going to work, where I’m going to live, whether or not I’m going to stay in London.”
“You might come back home?”
“I just don’t know. I was so desperate to leave America when I was young. But I’ve really liked being back this time. I had forgotten how lovely Westport is, how easy it is to live here. My God, you can park anywhere! And the weather is glorious. And there’s no traffic!”
“That’s not actually true,” says Nell. “The traffic is awful.”
“When you’ve navigated Swiss Cottage in rush hour on a daily basis, trust me, you won’t be saying that,” says Meredith. “I’ve tried so hard to make London my home, and there’s a part of me that feels it is. But I’m also realizing that this is home too, and maybe I need to come back and give it another chance. This isn’t about Billy,” she says quickly. “He has said that if I come back, he’d love to take me out for dinner, but who knows if that will happen. I might not come back; he might meet someone . . .”
“You might meet someone,” says Nell, as Connor comes running in, naked.
“Auntie Nell, Auntie Nell, can you take me swimming?”
Nell and Meredith burst out laughing. “Give me five minutes,” says Nell. “Go back and watch the end of the show and then I’ll take you.”
“’Kay,” he says, disappearing into the family room.
“He’s so cute,” says Meredith, still grinning. “I’d like to get to know him properly. I’d like to spend more time with all of you.”
“I would like that. You know, Lizzy and I have been talking about setting up some kind of supper club, and maybe a restaurant, at the farm.”
“That sounds awesome!”
“Maybe you could be involved.”
Meredith bursts out laughing. “Ha! I can cook a decent roast, but that’s about it. Thank you, but I have no interest in working in the food business.”
“Okay. But maybe there’s something else. Maybe you could decorate. Or start painting again and sell the art in the restaurant. I don’t know. Something that uses your artistic side.”
“Yeah. Mom said the same thing. Not about the farm, but about using my creativity. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Maybe I’ll start classes again. I would love that.”
“It would be nice for the three of us to be home,” Nell says, surprised there is a tear welling in her eye. “I never thought I would say that, but it has been nice having you all here.”
“I agree,” says Meredith, realizing she has never seen Nell display emotion like this before. “It’s been nice being with you and Lizzy. More than nice.” She shrugs and wipes the tear as she and Nell smile at each other.
“It’s home.”
forty-six
Mom?” Lizzy leans over her mom, frowning. There is something not right, but she isn’t sure what it is, as if there is a fog in her brain preventing her from seeing clearly. “Mom? Wake up. Mom? Mom? Mom!” she screams as she shakes her mother, feels how warm she is, even though there is no breath coming from her mouth.
Meredith and Nell come running up the stairs, bursting into the bedroom as Lizzy turns to them in fury, grief, disbelief.
“She’s gone!” she says. “I think she’s dead. Someone gave her the pills. We said we wouldn’t do it. Who did it? Who gave her the pills?”
“The pills are downstairs,” Nell says dully, sinking onto the bed. “No one gave her the pills. I gave her four this morning, but that isn’t enough to—”
“I gave her four this morning,” says Meredith, shaky with shock and guilt, as the tears start to fall.
“Fuck!” Lizzy bursts out. “I gave them to her last night. She didn’t take them. She didn’t take any of yours either, did she? Did you see her swallow them?”
Meredith is openly sobbing now, Nell wiping a tear from her
cheek as they both shake their heads. Meredith leans over the bed and lays her cheek against her mother’s and kisses her, her eyes closed as her shoulders heave.
“She’s been stockpiling for days,” says Lizzy, stricken as it dawns on her. “She knew we wouldn’t let her go. She told us three days, and she knew we’d watch her like hawks. That’s why she did it early. I can’t believe it. She got all of us to bring her pills, and she hid them, knowing she would do this before she told us. Fuck. Crafty fucking buzzard.” Lizzy wipes the tears from her eyes, sinking into a chair.
“What do we do?” asks Meredith, hiccuping. “Who do we call?”
“I don’t know,” says Lizzy. “Funeral home? I have no idea. Is she definitely dead?”
They turn to look at the body, and they still. It is just as Greta described: nothing more than a husk, the soul having left, a body at peace.
Moments pass, until Nell says quietly, “Do you think maybe we should say a few words now? Maybe share some memories or say something good.”
“Yes.” Lizzy nods and rises from the chair. “We need closure. Here.” She reaches out both hands, as her sisters stand up and clasp them. “Nell, you’re the oldest. You start.”
“I have no idea what to say.” Nell closes her eyes briefly. “Okay. She drove me more nuts than I ever thought possible. She dragged me to the theater, to musicals, when I was tiny, and then took me backstage, pretending that it was to make me happy, but actually it was so everyone could fawn all over her. The great Ronni Sunshine had come to see the show! I’d be given a lollipop and left by myself in the corner of the dressing room while she posed for picture after picture. I thought she was the most glamorous mother in the whole world. When she came to school I felt so proud that you could feel a frisson of excitement throughout the school. All my friends wanted to come home and meet her, get her autograph, have some of her magic brush off on them.”
Meredith and Lizzy both smile through their tears, both remembering exactly what that was like.