“It doesn’t,” he said. “I was just surprised to see you.”
“I don’t work at the bureau on Tuesdays. If you weren’t expecting to see me, what are you doing here?”
“I was here to see Ryan.”
Corrina’s expression darkened. “Why is that?”
“I have something to talk to him about.”
Corrina leaned against the doorway. “Talk to me about it instead.”
Tyler took a step back from the door, wishing he could walk backward and make time reverse with him. “I’d rather keep this between the two of us.”
“Really? Have you found something new to give him crap about?”
“It isn’t like that – though actually it wasn’t like that the last time, if we’re being honest. I just need to have a talk with him.”
“He isn’t around. He’s…I’m not sure where he is right now. He texted that he was spending the afternoon with friends.”
Tyler nodded his head slowly. “All right. I’ll catch up with him some other time.”
He started to walk down the stoop when Corrina’s voice grew sharper.
“I’d really prefer it if you went through me for anything you had to say to Ryan.”
Tyler stopped walking and turned back in his sister’s direction. “He’s sixteen, Corrina. He’s going to have private matters, even within the family.”
“Not with you.”
“Why the hell not?”
Corrina scoffed. “You don’t get to have private matters with Ryan. Not with the way you treat him.”
Corrina was talking like Tyler had been verbally abusing her stepson for years rather than raising his voice – admittedly loudly – one time in their entire relationship.
“Forget about it, okay Corrina.”
He started to walk away again, and again she stopped him with her words.
“I want to know what you were coming to talk to him about.”
“I really don’t think you do.”
“I said I want to know, Tyler.”
Tyler looked down at the walkway for at least ten seconds. Then he walked back up the stoop.
“I was coming to talk to him about not using my bedroom as a playpen.”
Corrina didn’t look nearly as surprised by this as he had expected her to look.
“What are you talking about?”
“I came home Sunday night to find him in my bedroom half undressed and the girl he was with wearing even less.”
Corrina’s face started to color. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care whether you believe me or not. If you remember, I wasn’t coming here to discuss this with you.”
“You’re making this up just to rile me.”
Tyler looked away from his sister for a moment and then reengaged with her. “Corrina, I don’t have to make things up to rile you. These days, it seems that all I have to do is breathe.”
Corrina took two steps forward, though she kept one hand on the doorjamb. “I can’t believe you would make up a lie like this. I don’t know what you have against Ryan, but it ends now.”
Tyler knew that any further conversation was pointless. Should he try to offer further evidence? Should he ask Corrina what possible benefit he could glean from fabricating this? Ultimately, it made more sense to cut his losses.
“You’re right, Corrina,” he said as he turned his back on her. “It ends now.”
**^^^**
Annie had a feeling she was supposed to feel guilty about plopping her toddler son in front of the television. It was such an easy way to dial him back, though. He could be his usual tireless self, bouncing off of everything in sight, and the vision of the Nickelodeon logo would drop him onto the sofa like she’d shot him with a tranquilizer dart. Annie would never let Joey sit in front of the set for more than an hour, but by the early afternoon, she was ready for the respite. Joey was a great kid and all, but being with him was never a stroll in the park – even when they were strolling in the park.
Annie had just popped a mug of water in the microwave and gotten the Chamomile out of the pantry when the doorbell rang. Her first thought was that it was the UPS guy with the Zappos order she placed the other day. She was looking forward to seeing her new shoulder bag since it looked so lush on the website.
When she opened the door, though, the man on the other side was not decked out in a brown uniform. He was wearing a royal blue sweater over khakis, and she’d never met a delivery person who made quite this much of an impression as he stood on her stoop.
She opened the screen door and Marty stepped into the foyer.
“What are you doing here?” Annie said hoping she expressed surprise and delight in equal measure.
“Things weren’t getting anywhere in Boston. I decided to come back to Oldham a little early.”
Annie hoped this didn’t mean that he was going to be heading out of Oldham early as well. “This is a nice surprise.”
Marty tilted his head and grinned at her. “I was hoping you’d think so. Wanna go out for a cup of coffee or something?”
Annie turned toward the living room. “Not really an option right now.” Before she could explain further, the television exploded with a song about healthy snacking.
“Oh, you have a kid?” Marty said. The inflection in his voice suggested that this had thrown him, but Annie wondered about which part – the fact that she had a child or the fact that she hadn’t mentioned it the other night.
“He’s two,” Annie said, as though that explained anything.
“Wow, that’s cool. I hear they can be a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, that’s the rumor. Hey, I was about to make myself some tea. Do you want some?”
Marty nodded, his bangs flipping forward. “That would be great.”
They went into the kitchen and Annie put another cup of water in the microwave. Marty seated himself at the head of the kitchen table and chose rooibos from her collection of teas.
“So I’d gotten the word that you’d married Maxwell Gold, but no one at the reunion mentioned you had a kid. Do you keep your child locked in the house away from the rest of the community?”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I think every shopkeeper in town knows him.”
“So it’s a ‘him,’ then. Does he come with a name?”
“It varies by time of day, but he always seems to answer to Joey.”
Marty seemed to be considering this as the microwave signaled that their water was hot. Annie dropped the tea bags into their mugs and joined Marty at the table.
Marty bounced his tea bag in his mug a few times. “I never pictured you as a mother.”
“That’s funny; I always thought I’d make a great mother.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are.”
Annie thought about what to say for a few seconds before responding. “I said I always thought I’d make a great mother.”
“Do you think something different now?”
Annie smiled softly. “That varies by time of day, too.”
Marty brought the mug to his lips. “I can imagine.”
She watched him drink for a moment, wondering exactly what he could imagine about parenthood. “Have you ever thought about having children yourself?”
He put down the tea and ran his fingers through his hair. “There were two days when I thought an ex-girlfriend was pregnant. I thought about it a lot then.”
“And what did you think?”
“I thought that I seriously hoped she wasn’t pregnant.”
Annie grinned. “Being a dad is not appealing?”
“Like rabies is not appealing.” Marty looked skyward for a moment and then caught Annie’s eyes. Marty had a way of locking into eye contact that seemed like a physical act. Annie seemed to recall quite a few “physical acts”
between them coming after just such eye contact. “Is Maxwell doing okay?”
Annie nodded, dropping her eyes at the same time. “He’s doing great. He’s quite the man about town – he’s the head of the Chamber of Commerce.”
“Sounds like a good, responsible gig.” Marty swept his eyes around the room. “This is a nice place.”
“It works.”
She could tell by Marty’s expression that he’d picked up on her inflection.
“What gives?” he said.
Annie had no idea where to begin this conversation. “Let’s just say I didn’t have a big idea about five years ago, that I don’t have an office in Vegas, and that I’m not ‘scouting locations.’”
Marty shrugged. “The grass is always greener, Annie.”
“Really? Does the grass on this side of the fence seem greener to you?”
Marty took another long sip of his tea and then stood. “I’ve gotta run. Are we still on for Thursday?”
“I’m on if you’re on.”
“I’m on. Is – what was his name? – Joey coming with us?”
“Hell no. I’ve got a babysitter and a backup.”
Marty reached into his pocket for his car keys. “That’s good. I’m kind of weird around kids.” He pecked Annie softly on the cheek. “See you in a couple of days.”
Annie got the impression that Marty didn’t want her to follow him to the door, so she allowed him to let himself out. When she heard the door close, she brought his mug to the sink, noticing that he still had half a cup of tea in it. Replaying their conversation in her mind, she wondered if she’d driven him away with the manner in which she was talking about her life.
They still had their plans for Thursday, though. Annie would make sure to keep things a lot lighter then.
Thirteen
Wednesday, October 20
Eleven days before the party
Maxwell was going to be late for the meeting. He’d been running behind the entire day. Things always got a little more frantic in the fall. It was make-or-break time for so many of the local businesses, even with the surprisingly strong summer.
He took his sports coat off the hanger behind his office door and then glanced at his overcoat. Did he really need it? The air was crisp this morning, but it looked like it had turned into a beautiful day. He’d take his chances.
“I’m heading off,” he said to Belinda, his assistant, as he passed her desk. Just then the phone rang. He knew he should just keep walking – he hated being late – but he’d never been able to ignore a ringing phone.
“There’s someone named Lucretia on the line for you,” Belinda said.
“Lucretia, really?”
“That’s what she says.”
He hadn’t heard the name in years. “Lucretia” was what Maria called herself when she phoned him at college. She thought it sounded exotic and that his dorm mates would think he had a mysterious girlfriend. Maria spent a great deal of time telling him that he needed to be more three-dimensional back then.
“Lucretia” called often during his sophomore year. She was a senior at Quinnipiac and had started dating Doug seriously, and it seemed she had endless questions for her brother about the male psyche. From Maxwell’s perspective, Doug was insanely and transparently in love with Maria, and that what was going on in his mind hardly needed to be analyzed, but maybe Maria just liked talking about him or maybe this was her way of staying in touch. Maxwell kind of liked it. Maria had never come to him for advice when they were home together.
After college, the use of the name “Lucretia” indicated that one of them required a heart-to-heart. If Maria called and introduced herself with a bad Eastern European accent, he knew they were going to be on the phone for a while. If something was troubling him, all he needed to do was ask if “Lucretia” was home to let his sister know that he had something on his mind.
It had been a while, though. Several years at least. What was going on with Maria?
Maxwell glanced at his watch. He was going to be ridiculously late now, but he had to take this call.
“Thanks, Belinda. I’ll get it.”
He went back to his office, closed the door, and sat down at his desk. When he picked up the phone, though, there was no one on the other end. He hung up and dialed Maria’s number.
“Did you just call?” he said when she answered several rings later.
“Call who?”
More than a little baffled, Maxwell simply said, “Never mind.”
**^^^**
Buying sheet music online had been a revelation for Maria. The last time she’d been able to concentrate on her playing, relatively few songs were available as individual music sheets and most songs came in compilations by artist or genre. This was fine when the artist was James Taylor or Joni Mitchell, but Maria had spent too much money and taken up too much shelf space on books that contained only one or two songs she wanted to play. Now, there was an enormous selection of charts she could buy singly, and even better, she could download her choices straight to her iPad. She’d bought a couple of Jason Mraz songs this morning, along with a few Amos Lee songs, and an old Eric Andersen, song, “Is It Really Love At All,” that she’d always wanted to learn.
She’d just begun to play the latter when the phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she was surprised to see her daughter’s name. Olivia never called at this time of day, and Maria’s first instinct was to worry.
“Olivia?”
The voice on the other end was bright, immediately easing Maria’s concerns. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, Liv. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, great. What’re you doing?”
“Just playing some music.”
“Do you think you could peel yourself away for a little while?”
“Of course. Do you need me to do something for you?”
“I was kinda hoping you’d come pick me up at the train station.”
Maria pulled the phone back and looked at it, as though she could see Olivia’s face through the receiver. “You’re here?”
“The Amtrak just got in at Old Saybrook.”
“I’m getting in the car now.”
Maria was giddy with the idea of a surprise visit from her daughter. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the station that she began to think that something could still be wrong. Olivia had a full course load on Wednesdays and she wasn’t the kind of kid who blew off classes casually. Maria was nervous now, and the tension stayed with her for the rest of the drive.
Olivia seemed completely relaxed when Maria met her at the station, though, and her hug was warm, but not in the least needy.
“You look fabulous,” Maria said when she pulled back from their embrace.
“You always say that, Mom.”
“It’s always true.”
Olivia hefted her backpack over her shoulder and went around to her side of the car. As they headed out of the parking lot, she said, “I’m starving. They had nothing good on the train.”
“Do you want to eat around here? If you can hold on a little longer, there’s a great new Thai place in town.”
“Actually, what I really want is your mac and cheese.”
“Really?” This was a surprise. Olivia never passed up an opportunity to go out to eat. Admittedly, though, Maria made awesome mac and cheese. “We can definitely do that. It’s going to take a little while, though.”
“That’s okay. Are we stocked up on Wheat Thins?”
“We always are.”
“Then I’ll have a few of those to tide me over.”
Olivia caught her up a bit on the ride home. As it turned out, Olivia’s American lit and composition professors were both away at an event at Yale, and her European history professor was showing a documentary Olivia had seen in high school. Left with the makings of a wide-o
pen day, Olivia had decided to make a quick trip home. She could catch the first train back in the morning and still make her Thursday classes.
An hour later, they were sitting down to Maria’s lush macaroni and cheese, which Maria had laced with double-smoked slab bacon and yellow pear tomatoes. Olivia closed her eyes as she took her first bite, smiling contentedly.
“The mac and cheese at the dining hall is all wrong,” she said after she ate another forkful. “This, however, is as perfect as it always is, Mom.”
She’s homesick, Maria thought. She’s not going to admit it, but that’s what’s going on here. The irony of this was not lost on Maria. A week earlier, missing her daughter, she’d decided to pay her a surprise visit and came away feeling horribly awkward, yet Olivia felt perfectly fine about surprising her when she was in need of a touch of home. Obviously, this was going to have to play out on Olivia’s terms. Maria was okay with that.
Maria brought out a package of Mallomars after lunch and the two stayed at the kitchen table talking about classes, Olivia’s roommates, the guy Brad, who no longer seemed to fascinate, and the news Olivia had gotten from her high school friends at other universities.
“You know how I’ve been playing the guitar again lately?” Maria said during a lull.
“Yeah, I want you to play me a few songs after I’ve had maybe two more Mallomars.”
“I ran into Martha McGarrigle the other day. She’s been putting on shows at Mumford’s and she told me she’d like me to play at the one the Thursday after next.”
Olivia clapped her hands together. “Really?”
“I don’t think I’m going to do it, though.”
Olivia scowled. “What do you mean?”
Maria looked away from her daughter. “I’m not great with crowds.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous – you’re doing it.”
Maria laughed. “You’re making this decision for me.”
“Well, someone has to. Come on, Mom, how cool would it be for you to get up at Mumford’s and blow people away with your music?”
Leaves Page 15