Nancy Thayer

by Summer House (v5)

  Helen hurriedly corrected herself. Perhaps it wasn’t champagne. Perhaps it was water—but no, it wasn’t water, the color was wrong, it was the pale sunshine yellow of champagne. Could it be grapefruit juice? As she stared, Teddy tilted the glass and drank. He downed the glass in one swallow, then said something to the other man and left to walk to the drinks table, where he set his glass down and picked up another, a glass Helen had just seen the bartender pour from a champagne bottle.

  Perhaps champagne didn’t really count as alcohol, Helen thought quickly. Who really ever got drunk on champagne? Perhaps Teddy felt obligated to drink at Oliver’s wedding—but no, that didn’t work, because Teddy had drunk water at Nona’s birthday party.

  “Excuse me, Phyllis.” Helen set her own glass on the brick path and rose. She headed toward her younger son, but people stopped her to congratulate her and praise gorgeous Oliver, and when she got to where Teddy had been, he was gone. She turned, scanning the crowd.

  Teddy was with his brother and one of Oliver’s California friends—right now Helen couldn’t remember the man’s name. As Helen watched, Teddy aimed a hearty slap at Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver was a few inches taller than his younger brother, and while both men were slender, Oliver’s posture was erect, his limbs muscular. Beside him, Teddy looked too thin.

  “Congratulations, big brother!” Addressing the California friend—Brad, Helen thought; his name is Brad—who stood next to Oliver, Teddy announced jovially, “You know, every time I see Oliver, it’s to congratulate him for something. Graduating from high school, graduating from college, getting his architect’s degree, winning that award in San Francisco—Oliver’s a golden boy, aren’t you, Oliver? You’re a real golden boy.”

  Oliver dipped his head and said something softly to Teddy.

  In response, Teddy tilted his glass and drained it. “But it’s a party!” he declared. “A celebration. Another celebration! For you, Oliver, handsome handsome Oliver, talented Oliver, and of course you would find a mate from a terribly terribly socially accepted family. You’re just a golden boy, Oliver!” Keeping his hand on his brother’s shoulder, Teddy roughly shook his brother in rhythm to his words, “A golden boy, a golden boy, that’s what you are, a golden boy!” He lurched aggressively toward Brad. “Right? Am I right? Don’t you think Oliver’s a golden boy?”

  A deep, exhausting sadness possessed Helen, and the iron brand of a headache scorched her forehead. She had been in this place before, many times before, with Teddy drunk after a beach party in high school or college, or drunk at home in Boston when he showed up for one of his unannounced visits. So she knew better than to try to lead him away from the party. Teddy would never hurt her—Teddy was not a mean drunk—but even as thin as he was, he was stronger than Helen, and if he swayed or stumbled against her, he could knock her over. He had knocked her over before, accidentally. She saw her husband headed toward Oliver and Teddy, a strained smile on his face.

  “Oh, no!” Teddy broke into a crowing laugh. “Here comes Dad! It’s crackers and milk in my room again! Crackers and milk for me, because I’m the bad boy. Champagne and cheers for you, Ollie, old chap, you’re the golden boy.”

  By now Teddy’s voice was loud enough to summon everyone’s attention, and Helen was aware of the crowd pausing in their conversations and turning to stare. Helen looked to see how Nona was taking all this. In state on the bench, Nona resembled some kind of gigantic beetle with her fat torso and stick limbs, and she was just about as nimble as an overturned beetle, unable to rise without someone’s assistance or at least the use of the cane lying next to her. Nona’s gaze was on Teddy. Suzette, like another, differently colored beetle, was awkwardly pushing herself up from her wicker chair. Her face was grim as she lumbered toward Teddy.

  “Teddy.” Somehow Worth managed to get between his two sons. He clamped a hand on his younger son’s shoulder, but instead of drawing Teddy away as Helen thought he would, he said, “Grace? Where’s your camera? I want a picture taken of me with my sons. With both my sons.”

  Oh, thank you, Worth, Helen thought, grateful that he was trying to ease them all out of an unpleasant situation.

  Grace practically ran through the gathering, holding her digital camera up, giddily giving directions, “Stand closer together, Teddy, Oliver. That’s right. Now Worth. Smile, everyone. Come on, a nice big smile.”

  But Teddy wasn’t smiling. His drunken jubilation had morphed into depression. Helen had seen this transition before, too. She hoped they could maneuver him into the house and away from the party before he started one of his self-pitying rants.

  “Great!” Grace cried. “I have several wonderful shots.”

  “Thanks,” Worth said to his sister. He had not taken his hand off Teddy’s shoulder, and now he moved him away from Oliver and toward the house. Suzette approached Teddy and said something Helen couldn’t hear.

  “Oh, come on,” Teddy roared back. “I’ve gotten started, at least let me finish, let me have one good intoxicating event. If I’m going to be sick with guilt tomorrow, I might as well do it right.”

  Kellogg appeared at Teddy’s other side. He exchanged a glance with Worth, and the two older men gripped Teddy’s arms and half carried him through the garden and into the house. Suzette followed. Helen followed the others. She heard Oliver say to the crowd, “This seems like a good time to move the party over to Surfside. You all know the address, right?”

  Teddy heard, too. “I want to go to the party!” He wrestled away from his father and uncle. “Hey, no fair, I want to go to the party.” He sounded like a child.

  Worth and Kellogg escorted Teddy to one of the sofas in front of the fireplace. “Come on, Teddy, sit down here a minute. You can go to the party, but there’s no hurry. It’s going to be awhile before the others have unblocked the drive with their cars.” Worth kept his voice moderate, friendly.

  Glorious, who had seen Teddy’s fits of drunkenness before, appeared from the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks, Glorious,” Worth said. “Teddy, sit down. Drink this.”

  “Oh, there you go, such a Puritan. Why are you making such a big deal of this? I don’t need any coffee, I’m celebrating the golden boy; you should be celebrating him, too. Well, you are celebrating him—or you were, weren’t you?—until I messed things up for you.” Teddy suddenly sat down, hard, on the sofa. “Did I ruin Oliver’s party? That is so pathetic. My God, I’m a hopeless fool.”

  From outside came the noises of the departing crowd. Car doors slammed. Voices called out. Someone laughed. At the far end of the room, Grace was helping Nona in from the garden.

  Suzette awkwardly lowered herself next to Teddy. She took his hand. “Teddy, it’s all right. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. You haven’t ruined anything. Now drink your coffee.”

  Teddy clutched Suzette’s hand hard. He looked up at his father. “Isn’t she wonderful? Suzette is wonderful. I wouldn’t be here without Suzette. I wouldn’t be anywhere without Suzette. And you wouldn’t let her come to your stupid lockjaw Family Meeting!”

  “Let’s discuss this matter tomorrow, son,” Worth said.

  “Oh, right, let’s not talk about your cold-shouldering now, not while Golden Boy is on stage.”

  “You know what?” Worth said, his voice angry. “That’s right. It is Oliver’s wedding day.”

  Teddy glared up at his father. “Yeah? Well, when are you going to celebrate my marriage to Suzette? When are you going to throw us a party?”

  “When you show me a marriage certificate,” Worth shot back.

  Helen’s headache was nearly blinding her, but she noticed from the corner of her eye that Glorious had gone to Nona and put a supporting arm around the old woman. She left the group gathered around Teddy and went to her mother-in-law. “Nona. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, dear. Just very tired. This has been such an exciting day. Time for bed for me.” Nona’s voice was scarcely louder than a whisper.

 
Behind her, Teddy continued to rage, his words becoming looser and less well formed, and soon, Helen knew, he would launch into an unattractive, petulant blubbering that no amount of gentle reassurance could stem. He was this far into his inebriation. The only way out from this point was to keep him away from more alcohol while preventing him from doing something potentially harmful to himself. Helen’s heart ached for her son. And her head ached, as if she were very weary, as if she’d been awake for several weeks without sleep.

  Charlotte swept in from the garden, her pale saffron silk skirt swirling around her ankles. The evening’s humidity had made her long hair rise slightly around her head like a halo. She leaned over her brother and tugged on his hand. “Come on, Teddy, let’s go for a walk.”

  Teddy pulled away. “No, no, you want to go to Oliver’s party.”

  “No, I don’t. I want to walk with you. On the beach. It’s such a beautiful night. Let’s kick off our shoes and get sand between our toes.”

  “Suzette—”

  “Suzette needs to rest. You and I need to walk.” She yanked on him and, reluctantly, Teddy rose.

  Suzette pushed herself up to a standing position and watched Charlotte draw Teddy away from the sofa. Without another word, she crossed the large room, walked out into the hall, and up the wide stairs.

  “I ruined Oliver’s party,” Teddy groaned. “I’m an asshole.”

  “You’re an asshole,” Charlotte agreed, “but you didn’t ruin Oliver’s party. Tell me about the antiques shop, Teddy. How do you like working there? Have you made any fabulous sales? If I know you, you’ve persuaded quite a few people into some pretty pricey deals.”

  Helen watched, relieved, as Charlotte steered Teddy out the French doors toward the grassy lawn and the low brush and the beach. Charlotte knew the drill. They all did. Now it was just a matter of keeping Teddy moving until he wore out his drunk. He would be boring, repetitive, and maudlin, but he wouldn’t drink any more alcohol. Helen didn’t think he’d had the chance to get shit-faced enough to vomit like he had in college. It was good of Charlotte to deal with her brother.

  She walked back to where Worth and Kellogg stood. “Charlotte saves the day.”

  Worth’s face was as dark as thunder. “Charlotte shouldn’t have to save the day. I’ve warned Teddy I won’t put up with this behavior. I want him out of the house tomorrow.”

  Seventeen

  Nona z fighting with his wife about her grandson. She didn’t want to be in the room. She wanted to be in bed, she needed to rest—but at this moment she didn’t have the stamina or the breath to climb the stairs. She gestured to Grace to help her to a chair.

  “Just for a moment,” she told her daughter. “I just need to catch my breath.”

  “Of course, Nona,” Grace said, with a saccharine smile.

  Oh, don’t be so smug! Nona wanted say. It was so unbecoming, the way Grace relished her brother’s discomfort. “Could I have a glass of water?”

  “Yes, Nona, I’ll get it,” Grace cooed.

  “I’ll help!” Kellogg noticed his wife leaving the room and hurried after her, eager to escape the living room battlefield where Worth and Helen were speaking in low, tense voices.

  “Worth, please,” Helen pleaded. “Teddy wasn’t so very awful this time. He was only a little bit drunk.”

  “Helen, look. We’ve been through this all before, more times than I want to remember. You know as well as I do that with Teddy there’s no such thing as a little bit drunk. The point is, he’s drunk. And we agreed that we were not going to enable him.”

  “But the situation is different now,” Helen argued. “Teddy’s married. His wife is going to have a baby, our grandchild! Teddy is employed, and he’s showed up every day, and he’s doing a good job, and it’s work he enjoys. Really, Worth, he’s changed. We should give him another chance.”

  “How can you say he’s changed?” Worth shook his head angrily. “Because he’s married? You think he’s really married? This is Teddy we’re talking about here.”

  Grace returned with a crystal tumbler filled with ice and water. “Here, Mother,” she whispered dramatically.

  “Thank you, dear.” Nona took a long, soothing drink. “Now I need to go to my room. Would you ask Kellogg to help me up the stairs?”

  Grace looked alarmed. “Nona! Are you okay?”

  “Darling, I’m just exhausted, that’s all. I want to get these clothes off and crawl into bed.”

  In a flash, reliable Kellogg appeared at his wife’s side; reaching down, he put his hands on Nona’s waist to help her out of the chair. This was always awkward, and sometimes Nona thought it was funny and crumpled into a fit of giggles, but she was too tired for laughter just now. Doctors had instructed Glorious and all the adults who helped Nona that they should not try to help her stand by pulling on her arms. That might actually pull them right out of their sockets. The helper was supposed to put his arms beneath Nona’s, but in Nona’s case, the gelatinous mass of her ancient enormous bosom made it difficult to reach her back. So Kellogg secured his hands near Nona’s waist, and she put her hands on his shoulders, and he heaved her to a standing position.

  It took her a few moments to catch her breath.

  “Give him another chance,” Helen said again from the other side of the room.

  “How many chances have we already given him, Helen?” Worth demanded. “And every time—every time—he’s let us down.”

  “Worth, for God’s sake, it’s not a matter of letting us down. It’s not about us. It’s about Teddy. This is a weakness of Teddy’s. It will not go away. It will be with him—with us—for the rest of our lives. But Teddy is doing his best to rise to the challenge, and we are his family. We need to stand by him.”

  “Helen, it’s not as simple as that, and you know it. Teddy isn’t just an alcoholic, he’s manipulative, he’s a troublemaker, and he’s a spoiled brat. Why can’t you see what’s right before your face? Teddy getting drunk on Oliver’s wedding day? Why today, of all days?”

  Nona didn’t want to listen anymore. “Kellogg, I’m ready,” Nona told her son-in-law.

  Kellogg wrapped a supporting arm around Nona’s back, beneath her arms, and very slowly they made their way out of the living room, into the hall, and up the stairs. The sounds of the argument followed them, and Grace followed them, too, looking pious. Oh, I’m such a critical mother, Nona thought. Here Grace is helping me, and she’s so proud to be helping me; why can’t I admire her for that?

  While Kellogg arranged Nona in a sitting position on her bed, Glorious appeared. “I’ve got the dishwasher packed and running,” she told everyone. “But there’s still a lot to be brought in from the patio.”

  “We’ll get it, Glorious,” Grace announced in her capable voice. “You help Nona. Are you okay now, Nona?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. And thank you so much, Kellogg, for your strong arms.”

  Kellogg blushed with pleasure. “Glad to do it.”

  “Come on, Kellogg,” Grace said. “Let’s clear up the patio.”

  The excitement and effort and beauty of the day had told on Nona, and she let herself relax the way she could with Glorious, the way she never could with her own children, because she needed to keep at least some small sense of distance and dignity with them. With Glorious, who was so voluptuously large, whose hands were so soft and gentle, whose personality did not come at her the way her children’s did, Nona could relinquish all endeavors to be competent, lucid, and in charge. She let herself slump. She was like a child as Glorious knelt to lift one foot and then the other, Glorious slipping off Nona’s court shoes. As Glorious gave each foot a brief, friendly little massage, Nona took a deep breath of pleasure. She leaned against the bedpost then, while Glorious unbuttoned her silk shirt and unsnapped the technological wonder that held Nona’s breasts in check. Like a little girl, Nona raised her arms for Glorious to slide her nightgown over her head. Then Glorious unfastened Nona’s silk trousers and pulled them off No
na’s ancient, unresisting body.

  Glorious pulled back the covers, plumped the pillows, and helped Nona into bed. Nona was so very tired that Glorious had to pick up Nona’s legs, one after the other, to lift them onto the mattress. Then she arranged the covers, smoothing and tucking them into the tidy, wrinkle-free expanse Nona liked.

  Nona subsided against her pillows. “Oh, Glorious. Just what I need. Thank you.”

  “Would you like something to eat, Mrs. Nona?”

  “No, thank you. I just need to sleep.”

  “I’ll check on you in a while, then.”

  Nona felt the slight stir of air in the room as Glorious moved from the bedside to the door. She couldn’t keep awake any longer. She slept.

  1945

  May 1, 1945

  Darling,

  Tonight I write you under candlelight and I am not green with envy, just short of paper, so I borrowed these sheets from my German host for the night. The family were just preparing supper when we moved in. I have to say the pan-fried potatoes left on the kitchen stove looked very tempting. The family left the food for us and moved out in their customary German rush when American troops told them their home would be used to billet troops. So I have a roof over my head. I don’t know how long we’ll remain here. But now that the war is almost over I can give you a sketchy account of our activities since leaving the States.

  We left New York on July 26 aboard the U.S.S. William G. Mitchell and debarked at Liverpool August 6. We went by train to South Wales. After living in the field for several days, we departed for Carmarthen to live in a tank camp near Pembroke. From September to November, we traveled via rough seas and complicated routes, listening to and ducking buzz bombs, until we finally hit combat in the northern flank of the Bulge with the 30th Infantry Division. Then we worked a long time with the 82nd Airborne Division, shoving the Jerries back within their famous Siegfried Line. I’ll never forget our bitter weather and the fighting during the latter part of December, January, and February. During this period I earned the Bronze Star.