Starlight on Willow Lake

by Susan Wiggs

  He raked his hand through his hair once, twice. His phone vibrated, but when he saw who the caller was, he let it go to voice mail. He was looking forward to telling Regina about the meeting, but not at this moment, when he felt so raw, when everything was so new.

  “Are you okay?” asked Faith.

  He hadn’t heard her approaching him. When he turned to look at her, he knew his face still wore that raw expression. “Yes,” he said. And then, “No. Don’t worry, though. I’ll deal. Where’s Mom?”

  “On her way down. The elevator was too crowded, so she waited for the next one.”

  He nodded, trying not to pace. “Damn, I didn’t think it would hit me like this.”

  “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t taken charge, called Katia and found a way to make this amazing procedure happen. It’s a miracle.”

  “For a miracle, it’s going to take a lot of work, but Mom seems excited.”

  “She is. I’m happy for you, Mason. More important, Alice is happy. That light in her eyes... We don’t get to see that too often.”

  “True. Listen, Faith. I don’t think I’ve ever told you...”

  “Yes?” Her face brightened and her lips looked impossibly soft. He shouldn’t keep noticing stuff like that, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “I just want to make sure I say this—you were right all along. I can never thank you enough for caring about my mother in the best possible way. I know she hasn’t been the easiest of patients. Hell, none of this is easy, but...you’ve been great, Faith. Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.” She lowered her gaze. “It’s nice that you did, though.”

  They didn’t talk anymore, just stood together, waiting for his mom. When he was around Faith, he never felt the need to fill the silence with small talk. Sometimes it was enough just to stand and breathe the air and watch the world go by. The urge to touch her, just to take her hand or maybe put his arm around her, was way too strong, but he resisted.

  A few minutes later, his mother arrived, gliding over to join them, Bella trotting at her side. “Well, now,” she said, tipping back her head while Faith put on her sunglasses. “Things are looking up.”

  “Are they ever.” He grinned. “Do you want to call Adam and Ivy, tell them the news?”

  “I was going to phone Adam tonight and Ivy in the morning.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Mason, for pursuing this. It’s incredible to think the surgery will give me back some of my hand function.”

  “What do you want to do next?” he asked. “We could go somewhere for a bite to eat, or a drink to celebrate.”

  “That sounds lovely,” his mother said. “Faith?”

  She glanced at his mother. “Thanks, but I have a couple of errands to do while I’m in the city. Just send me a text message when you’re ready to go back to Avalon.”

  He felt a momentary brush of nervousness as she headed for the subway station. Even after living at Willow Lake, he wasn’t a hundred percent confident of looking after his mother’s needs.

  He felt his mom watching him. “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Really?” he demanded with a twinge of irritation.

  “She has a life of her own, you know.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that Faith is... I suppose we’re so accustomed to having her close at hand that it’s easy to forget she has a separate identity. She does feel like family, but she also works for us.”

  “For you, you mean.” Discomfited by the conversation, he took out his phone and checked his messages. “I’ll be staying in the city tonight, if that’s okay.”

  “It’s absolutely fine. Is everything all right?”

  “Uh, yeah. I just need to spend some time with Regina, go over some things with her.”

  “Such as...?”

  “Jeez, Mom.”

  “Oh, right. You get to grill me about Rick Sanders, but I can’t ask about Regina?”

  “You can ask,” he said.

  Donno moved the van into place by the wheelchair ramp and lowered the lift.

  “Where to, Mom?” asked Mason. “Drinks at the Algonquin? Tea at the St. Regis?”

  “I have a better idea. Let’s go shopping in midtown.”

  “Sure, sounds good,” he said. In truth, he ranked shopping right up there with rotating the tires on his car, but today was all about his mother. “Do you need anything in particular? My treat.”

  “A pot of Crème de la Mer from Bloomingdale’s would be nice, if you’re looking to spoil me.”

  “Always,” he said. Cream of the sea? What the hell was that? He helped Donno secure the chair, and they drove toward midtown. The traffic outside surged along in fits and starts. Pedestrians streamed across intersections en masse, and delivery trucks blocked the side streets. A bike messenger nearly got nailed by a taxicab. He raised his fist and let loose with a string of epithets.

  The streets were gridlocked in midtown. Donno let them out near the Pulitzer Fountain so they could walk the few blocks to Bloomingdale’s. Walking around with his mother beside him was an eye-opener. Bella was at her best when she had a job to do. Even though she was short, she made her presence known, strutting forward with a confidence that belied her size. The little service dog had the ability to cut through a crowd like Moses through the Red Sea. When people spotted her neon-orange service dog vest, they tended to keep a respectful distance, even though there were lots of “awws” and “how-cutes.”

  Yet most passersby simply looked past his mother, though a few offered soft, sympathetic looks and made a great show of stepping aside. The world was not designed for people like his mom. A buckle in the sidewalk, a street performer or panhandler, a food cart parked too close to the curb or the ever-present towers of trash awaiting pickup forced them to take some major detours. “People don’t think,” he muttered, moving aside a tent sign for a nail salon.

  “I imagine we were just as ignorant before this happened,” his mother pointed out.

  His phone vibrated, and he saw a text message from Regina.

  Hope the appointment was a success. Drinks at The Ginger Man tonight? XO

  “Is that Regina?” asked his mother. “Should we invite her to join us?”

  “I could, but she’s probably busy,” he said without thinking.

  “I had a nice note from her in my email the other day. Did you know she’s considering Camp Kioga as a venue?”

  “As...what?” He regarded her, distracted by the rush of the fountain and the crowd gathered there, jockeying for photo angles. “Oh. Yeah, a venue for the wedding. Works for me, I guess.”

  “The person it needs to work for is the bride. The groom just goes along for the ride.” She looked pensive, then swung in the direction of the Plaza Hotel. “Your father and I were married at the Plaza. I can’t recall making the decision. It just seemed like the thing to do. It was beautiful, of course. My mother wouldn’t have it any other way. And neither would her mother, your great-grandma Marie.”

  “Granny used to love the Plaza,” Mason recalled. “I remember Adam and I would hide when she came over, because she’d want to take us to high tea there. Ivy was always game, though.”

  “She was a good woman,” his mother said. “I miss her.”

  She was quiet again, her mouth set in a thoughtful line.

  “What’s up, Mom? What’s on your mind? The surgery?”

  “Of course. But also...”

  “Also what?”

  “Just remembering... The whole time I was planning my wedding, I felt as if I’d boarded a train that wouldn’t slow down, let alone stop while I took a breath. I was just swept along in all the planning and fun. No one asked me if I knew where I was headed or if I wanted to be on t
he train at all.”

  “And your point is?”

  She swung her chair back toward the massive fountain and stopped near the concrete edge of the basin. “Sit,” she said.

  Mason sat. “Are you tired? Do you need a rest?”

  She shook her head. “I’m concerned about you.”

  That surprised the hell out of him. With all that was going on, the last thing on her mind should be him. “Everything’s fine with me. Everything’s great. What’s to worry about?”

  “Your future,” she said. “I’m going to have to be very blunt here. I’m going to have the conversation with you that I wish someone had had with me, back when I was about to be married.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Just listen. I know you’re not a child. Quite the opposite. You’ve always been mature beyond your years. But I’ve... Ah, I’ll just come out and say it. You and Regina are both lovely people, but I wonder if the two of you are going to be happy together for the rest of your lives.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Of course it is. It goes without saying that I want the best for you. I want you to succeed every bit as much as you want to. But lately, in light of all the revelations about Trevor, I’ve been wondering...and maybe you should wonder this, too. What brought you and Regina together in the first place? True love? Or your dad?”

  “Mom, that’s a low blow.”

  “This isn’t a fight, Mason. I love you. I’m concerned for you. And I believe you’ve been on a lifelong quest to perform for your father.”

  The truth of her statement hit him like a punch to the gut. He was blown away that his mother had brought the topic up. The two of them rarely discussed their personal lives...until lately, he supposed. Until Faith had hauled him back to Willow Lake. Until they’d begun to talk about his father.

  And the indisputable fact was that Trevor Bellamy had been the dominant influence—good and bad—in both their lives.

  “Listen, nobody has a crystal ball,” he said to his mother. “Reg and I...we’re going to be fine. We get each other.”

  “My wiener dog and I get each other. But it doesn’t mean I should marry Bella.”

  He laughed to cover his discomfort, because he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the point she was trying to make. “We didn’t come to this decision lightly. The two of us have everything in common. We’ve got plans for the future. I know relationships aren’t easy. Reg knows that, too. We also both know that if we work hard enough, everything will be great.”

  “Listen to yourself. Why does it have to be work? Why can’t it be easy?”

  “Because it can’t, okay?”

  “Yes. Yes, it can, if the relationship is the right one for you. Your father and I... All right, I know I’m not shattering an illusion for you when I tell you my marriage of thirty-eight years was not the fairy tale I imagined it to be. Trevor and I... It’s hard to pinpoint what happened, but it’s becoming clear to me as I watch you and Regina. Trevor and I seemed like the perfect match. Point for point, we were on the same page. Similar family and educational backgrounds. Similar life goals and tastes. By everyone’s reckoning, even our own, we were going to be the ideal couple.”

  “But...” he prompted.

  “Yes, there’s a but. On some level—and believe me, I didn’t even acknowledge it—we grew apart. The marriage was... I suppose ‘dead’ is being overly dramatic, especially now. We had a partnership. And we had the three of you, which I would not trade for anything in the world. And because I had such a wonderful family and a full life, I felt ridiculous and ungrateful for believing something was missing. What right did I have to feel that way? And so guess what I did? I worked hard. I worked my ass off to create this big happy family and this big happy life, and for the most part, I succeeded.”

  “Of course you did, Mom. We were all happy, and you were the reason for that. If you were unhappy, it didn’t show.”

  “Of course it didn’t show.” She smiled at him. “I was happy with my life. I raised three fine children, and I’m proud of all of you. I found my happiness in you children, in work and travel and friends. Now I know Trevor found his happiness outside the marriage—with Celeste. I suppose that’s why the news of his affair was so demoralizing. I allowed myself to tolerate a dead marriage for years. Knowing what was going on would have opened my eyes. Maybe it would have been awful to end the marriage back then. Maybe I would have been miserable. But it’s also possible that I might have found someone who was more than a good match. More than a partner.”

  “Mom, I appreciate your candor.” Mason kind of hated this conversation. Yet she clearly had something on her mind, and it was his job to listen. “But Regina and I are not you and Dad.”

  “Very true. Still, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t weigh in on this major life change you’re about to make? You haven’t listened to me in years, Mason. I want you to listen now. I’m not going to tell you what to do. No one can do that. But I’m going to ask you one thing and one thing only. Is this what you want for the rest of your life?”

  “How the hell do I know? Nobody can answer that.” He paused, listening to the play of water in the fountain behind him.

  “I think you just did.” She regarded him pointedly.

  “You’re still pissed at me for keeping my mouth shut about Dad’s affair.”

  “I admit that I’m angry, but not for the reasons you think.” With that, she turned her chair and glided along the crowded street, easily navigating the way to Bloomingdale’s. “I’m angry with myself, angry that I poured so much emotional energy into a person who didn’t deserve it. A person who was keeping secrets and living a double life. A person who didn’t care about anything but the way things looked on the surface. I keep thinking about what my life would have been like if I’d realized sooner that I was married to a cheater. I was so busy keeping myself happy that maybe I didn’t even realize your father and I were disconnected. Now I sit and imagine what I missed. Who knows what I would have done?”

  They jockeyed for position amid a crowd waiting for the light to change. “There’s no control group. You did what you did. We all did what we did. What, am I supposed to feel guilty because I didn’t tell you about Dad?”

  “Of course not. But I thought maybe you might have gained some insight from knowing what you know about your father and me.”

  “What kind of insight?”

  “The kind I wish I’d had.” She gazed steadily up at him. “When Faith went to tell you I tried to commit suicide, she was right.”

  Mason froze as he stood next to her at the final traffic light before the huge department store.

  They had talked about it, but his mother had talked around it. The accident, she called it. The mishap. The incident. Not once had she admitted the truth, point-blank. He couldn’t say it made him happy, but there was a sense of relief that she was taking ownership of what she’d done.

  “Aw, Mom.” He bent down, kissed her cheek.

  “I just want to be clear with you,” she said, blinking fast. “The past stays where it is. I was like a wounded animal, acting without thinking, but you and Faith...my God, everybody involved in my care...you’ve brought me back to myself. Faith’s instincts about this were spot-on, and I’ll forever be grateful to her for that. And your instinct to listen to her, even when I was denying it—you were spot-on, too.”

  And with that, she led the way to the department store. Her chair glided through the accessible entrance and she made a beeline for a slick-looking cosmetics counter. “Now, about that Crème de la Mer...” She spent a few minutes perusing the wares, courtesy of an eager salesgirl, offering samples.

  “Jeez,” he said when the girl rang up the small jar of face cream. “Really, Mom?”

  She sniffed. “Some things are worth the price.”


  Handing over his credit card, he pretended to give a shit about the cost, but his mother knew he really didn’t.

  He checked his watch as Donno found them waiting at the curb. “I’ll be back home tomorrow,” he said.

  She smiled up at him. “I like that you call it home.”

  He hadn’t even realized the slip. “I know you’ll be fine, but I’m going to ask you anyway—will you be all right on your own?”

  “And by on my own, you mean surrounded by a staff of six? In that case, yes. I’m sure I’ll be all right.”

  “If you think of anything else, send me a text message.”

  “I will. Mason, stop worrying.”

  As he bent to place a quick kiss on her cheek, she said, “I hope I didn’t upset you. Earlier, you know. With the things I said.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “All right, then. Give my regards to Regina.”

  “And by regards, you mean tell her you don’t think we should get married.”

  “I never said that, Mason. And ultimately, it’s your decision, of course. I will love you and stick by you, no matter what.”

  23

  The end of summer was always a bittersweet time, in Faith’s opinion. The glory days of sunshine and swimming in the lake would culminate with a Labor Day picnic by the lake. After that would come the start of school and the gradual descent through autumn and into winter. Faith had always disliked saying goodbye to summer’s brilliant days and starry nights. This year she was particularly apprehensive, because it was Cara’s final year of school.

  Still, there was something about the fall. It was the season of crisp air and turning leaves, haystacks in the fields, boots and jeans and thick sweaters, football games, fresh apple cider...and memories of Dennis.

  This fall would mark the sixth anniversary of his death. With each passing year, he was fading from her, and sometimes she feared she would lose him completely. Then she remembered what Alice had said, that the love was indelible. And when Faith looked into the eyes of her daughters, she could still see Dennis there, his presence melded deeply with the spirit of her girls.