Pot of gold : a novel

by Michael, Judith

  him. And what difference does it make? I gave such good advice to Emma; I ought to follow it myself. It's crazy: I'm on my first trip ever, the first time I've been more than a few miles from Connecticut, and all I'm thinking about is a man I met two days ago."

  "And what is wrong with that.'"' Hannah asked gently.

  'i just told you. Everything in my life has changed and I ought to be paying attention to all the new things I'm doing, all the things I'm able to do."

  "Well, I don't know about that. I used to think about men all the time; I thought they were more interesting and fun, and more important, than schoolwork or my job or all my women friends put together."

  Diverted, Claire said, "When did you think about men all the time.?"

  "Oh, when I was young and ignorant. Because I was wrong, of course, as I soon found out; generally speaking, women are a lot more interesting and important in our lives than men, and much more reliable. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't think about men, even when we're traveling to new places. Just keep everything in balance and you'll be fine."

  "It's hard to keep everything in balance." Claire stopped and made a gesture of annoyance. "That's what I mean about sounding young. I worry about Emma keeping things balanced, but I sound like I'm about her age."

  "Well, maybe you ought to feel young. Maybe you missed being young when your husband disappeared and you had to be mother and father to Emma, and breadwinner, and everything else at seventeen. Right now you ought to be paying attention to how you feel and what you're going to do with yourself with all the changes in your life. You've had a great fortune come to you; how do you know whether things will be better or worse because of it.? Maybe lots of good things will happen, but maybe bad things will, too. Give yourself some time, Claire; you'll figure things out as you go along."

  "Bad things.?" Claire repeated.

  "Well, it's a possibility."

  "I never thought of that. Everything's been so wonderful. It never occurred to me. And what does that have to do with Quentin.?"

  "Probably nothing. What do / know? Now. Tell me about the people at dinner."

  Claire hesitated, then shrugged it off. She looked back to make sure Emma was still in sight, and then they started walking again. She glanced at the women's names on the front of each house: small signs that identified and advertised each of them. Ahead was "Dolly's," supposedly the most famous madam of them all. Claire smiled slightly. "They talked about someone named Dolly last night. They don't like her but they go to all her parties, and I guess she goes to theirs. Well, I liked Lorraine and Ozzie; they probably get along with everyone. He's a lawyer and she says she's good at friendship and traveling. I think she'd like to do something with her life but she doesn't know what. They're not unhappy, so they don't try to needle others into unhappiness to spread their misery^ around; and they don't seem to be terribly greedy or insecure, so they don't put down people who have more than they have. Ina and Zeke fight a lot and I don't know whether that means they don't like each other or they're just so worried about other things they can't be content with each other."

  "Worried about what.'"' Hannah asked.

  "Oh, I guess keeping their place in society, whatever that is. They all seem to worry about that, not missing parties, that sort of thing. Oh, and I think Ina wants to go to bed with Quentin."

  "And will she.?"

  "I doubt it."

  "Why not.? Does he dislike her.?"

  "I don't think he thinks about her one way or the other."

  "But he invited her to dinner."

  "Probably because of Zeke. He has an investment company and he may handle Quentin's money. That may be one of the things he worries about: keeping Quentin as a client. He made a pitch to get my business, which was peculiar, at a dinner party."

  "Well, people have been trying to get your money since you won the lottery."

  "But he chose an odd time. In fact, the whole evening was odd: none of them really liked each other, but all four of them wanted to be close to Quentin. Like puppies, all squeezing against the stomach of the largest dog." She paused and added in a low voice, "I don't want to be one of the puppies."

  "I don't see you doing that," Hannah said briskly. "You're too smart. And besides, when a woman starts to remake her hfe, she isn't looking to stretch her neck out so somebody can put a leash around it."

  Claire smiled. "I like that."

  "So you weren't fond of the friends."

  "I wouldn't choose them for my friends, if that's what you're asking. Well, maybe Lorraine. But I can't imagine spending a lot of time with any of them."

  "And Quentin.^ Will you see him again.^"

  "I can't really help it; it's a small ship, you know, not like those huge ones with over a thousand people."

  "That's not what I meant."

  "I know. Oh, I guess I will. I guess I want to. I liked being with him and I keep thinking about being with him again. If he wants to, of course. He may not." She smiled at Hannah. "You're wonderful to talk to. I told the others last night that you're my fain,' godmother."

  "Good heavens, what do I do to live up to that.'"'

  "Just what you're doing; I love having you around."

  "Well, I love being around, and I thank you for it. Now why don't you go climb your mountain.-^ I'll walk with Emma."

  "Oh, would you.^" Claire turned to look for Emma. "Oh, damn," she sighed. "Now what should I do.'"'

  Hannah turned with her. Brix and Emma were standing in the middle of the narrow sidewalk, deep in conversation, oblivious to the crowds. "They do make a handsome couple," Hannah said. "So tall, both of them, and so beautiful to look at. Oh, all that youth and energy and everything ahead of them! That's how I always wanted to look, and I never did."

  "But what shall I do about them.'^" Claire murmured.

  "Right now, nothing, wouldn't you say.'^ I can't imagine us dragging Emma down the streets of Ketchikan, or even having an argument right here, in the middle of town. And why would you want to.'^ What's wrong with him.'"'

  "I don't know," Claire said slowly. "I just don't trust him."

  "Because you don't understand his father.'"'

  Claire gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "That makes it sound absurd. I don't know. I wish I did."

  "Well, it's going to be hard to keep them apart, you know: as

  far as I can tell, they're the only young people on the ship, and that does throw them together."

  Claire nodded. "And it's only a week."

  Hannah squinted in the sunlight, watching Brix put his arm around Emma. "And we do trust Emma."

  "It's just that she's never known anyone like him before," Claire said, and then thought, and I've never known anyone like Quentin. That's probably why he makes me feel so inexperienced. I'm not nearly as ignorant as those people at dinner thought I was; in fact, I think I'm a lot smarter than they are, but I'm not worldly, and that makes all the difference.

  "You're sure about what you saw last night," she said to Hannah.

  "I told you: they went to a movie and then they sat in the upper-deck lounge until Emma went to bed. They're being very good children; I wouldn't worry about them."

  "They're not children, and you know it."

  Hannah contemplated them through the shifting crowds. "I could think of them as my children."

  Claire looked at Hannah. "Your children.'' Did you have more than one.'"'

  "No, only one."

  "And you were going to tell us about her."

  "And I will; there's plenty of time. Now, why don't I walk with Emma and Brix.^' They can keep me company. And if you want to climb that mountain, you'd better get started; the ship leaves at four."

  "You'll keep an eye on her.'* Thank you." Claire leaned down and kissed Hannah's cheek, then walked swiftly in the direction of the trail up Deer Mountain while Hannah made her way along the crowded sidewalk to Emma's side. "Your mother is climbing a mountain, so I'll spend some time with you," she said cheerfully, ignorin
g the look of dismay in both Emma's and Brix's eyes. "And, Brix, Emma is dining with us tonight; you're certainly welcome if you'd like to join us. There's a lecture after dinner on Glacier Bay and we're going to that, too. We have so much to learn and to see; after all, who knows if we'll ever get back herc.'^"

  "Mrs. Goddard." Brix began.

  "Miss," Hannah corrected gently.

  He looked surprised. "Emma said you had a daughter. Who died.?"

  "True. But I haven't been married. I thought I told Emma that, too."

  "Doesn't matter," Brix said. "Look, Miss Goddard, Emma and I really want to be alone. I was just telling her I love her and that's just for us."

  Hannah was stymied. Few people had ever stopped her cold when she put her mind to something, but Brix had done it, leaving her nothing to stand on.

  "We'll see you later," Emma said. "We can talk then." There may have been a small note of apology in her voice, but it was drowned out by exultation. Her eyes were shining. Brix was beside her and he loved her, and she was not about to worry if an old woman had been shoved aside.

  "I'll knock on your door later," Hannah said, still cheerful. "Your mother will want to talk to you, too, don't you think.?"

  "I guess." Emma looked at Brix and he put his arm around her and turned her with him to walk away. Hannah watched them go: tall, confident, beautiful. That is a very sly young man, she thought. Someone to be reckoned with. And so, perhaps, is his father. This could be a verv^ complicated vacation. How fortunate that I'm here, to keep an eye on things.

  SIX

  T

  H E helicopter lifted off its pad early in the morning and in an instant was over the glacier that lay in Juneau's backyard. Under a brilliant sun, it flew low over the long river of blue-white, roiling, choppy ice that cut ever deeper the valley through which it had scraped and carved its way for centuries. The pilot flew lower and settled the helicopter slowly onto the ice. The guide opened the door. "Don't go too far, and only walk where it's packed down; there are thin spots all around."

  Emma was the first one out, taking long steps in the boots the guide had given them. She moved away from the helicopter until she stood alone, turning in place. Claire and Hannah followed, and the three of them gazed at the massive river of ice that seemed to tremble as they stood on it. On each side was a solid, dark wall of larches and hemlocks, and rising above them were brooding mountains of gray rock, stark against the cloudless sky.

  Even Emma, who had so far seen Alaska through a romantic haze, was struck by it, and for the first time, she really saw the landscape. "It's fantastic," she said. "Isn't it.-^ It's totally unbelievable. Everything is so huge, and . . . pure. It's so odd; it makes me feel really small but like Em part of something really enormous." She shivered. "I like that, being part of something so big. I mean, it doesn't have anything to do with us, nobody built it and nobody can tear it down, and it couldn't care less whether we're here or not; it'll be here forever. So if I'm part of it, I will be, too. In a way."

  "That's very poetic," Hannah said.

  Claire put her arm around Emma. "It's the way I feel, too, but I couldn't have said it so well."

  Emma flushed, for the moment in perfect harmony with her mother.

  "Well, of course it's always good to find things that last," Hannah said.

  "Lots of things last," Emma said. "Love lasts."

  "Oh, dear, not always. That's probably what makes it so wonderful, knowing that it's fragile. Oh, look at that eagle, riding the air currents; he's barely moving his wings. He looks like he owns the sky."

  Emma looked dreamily at the eagle. "Brix saw eagles in Africa."

  "Is that so," said Hannah.

  "He was on an animal safari. He was ten feet from a lion; he said you could hear it breathing."

  Hannah nodded. "I did that once."

  Emma stared at her. 'You were in Africa.'"'

  "A long time ago. Before the hordes of tourists came."

  "And Brix climbed Kilimanjaro." She looked challengingly at Hannah.

  "Well, no," Hannah said amiably. "I certainly did not climb Kilimanjaro."

  "Brix said it was really tough, but worth it." Emma walked back to the helicopter, not wanting to hear anything more that might chip away at Brix's uniqueness.

  She stayed with Claire and Hannah for the rest of their time in Juneau, walking the winding streets left over from its days as a mining camp, past modern buildings dwarfed by the forests and the glacier they had just flown over and, always, everywhere, the mountains. All of Alaska gave Claire the feeling that she was on the edge of the world. The towns were wedged between mountains, forests, and water, and most of them, with worn wooden buildings, many on stilts, had a frail look, as if a strong wind could topple them. Even the state capital in Juneau, with its marble pillars, looked to her like a mirage in the midst of the wilderness.

  She loved the vastness of the land, its serenity and silence, and the exuberant abundance of its wildlife. Nothing could be

  further from the tamed landscapes of Connecticut. Now I know why I wanted to come here, she thought. I wanted something wild and free, more dramatic than anything I've ever known.

  But as the ship moved north and seemed to be swallowed up by the wilderness, she began to feel a sense of loss. Everywhere she looked, couples stood at the rail or ate together or danced or played in the casino at night. Claire knew there were other single people on board, but she stopped seeing them after a while; she saw only couples. She wanted to be part of one. She wanted to see this gargantuan land with a man she loved.

  Emma was doing that. She had told Claire she was in love, the night after Claire's climb up Deer Mountain. "I love him and he loves me," she said. Her eyes were wide with the wonder of Brix and her own feelings. "And we want to be together, and why shouldn't we.^ What's so terrible about it.'' I wouldn't be normal if I wanted to be with you and Hannah all the time, instead of Brix."

  "Well, that's true," Claire said with a smile. She contemplated her beautiful daughter, wearing a pale blue chiffon blouse and short skirt, her hair curly and windblown from walking on the deck with Brix until midnight. "What is he like.^" she asked.

  "Oh, he's so wonderful. He's very smart, and sweet, and he's been everywhere and done everything, but in a lot of ways he's still like a little boy, and he needs so much love ... he never really had a mother, there were just all those women that his father married. Brix never had a real family, ever."

  "He has a father who cares for him."

  Emma shook her head. "I don't think Quentin really cares for him at all, not from some of the things Brix says. And Brix is really confused about him. I mean, of course he loves him, but he's awfully angry, too, because he feels like he was cheated out of a lot when he was growing up; his father wasn't around much and there were all those wives, and Brix was never sure where he belonged. But then, you know, underneath all his anger—and his sort of swaggering—I think he's really dying for his father to be proud of him, and I think he wants to be just like his father. He didn't tell me any of that; I just think it. Did Quentin talk about him to you.-^"

  "A little. And I think you're very perceptive."

  Emma's eyes widened again. "Really.''"

  "Perceptive and smart. But I think you should be careful and not get in too deep with him. I know you think you love him, but—"

  "I do love him!" Emma cried.

  "Well, then you do. But a young man with a lot of anger may not be able to love fully, or even commit to you the way you want. The way you deserve. Anger doesn't leave much room for love."

  "I could change that. I could make him not so angry; I could make him happy."

  Claire heard echoes of herself at Emma's age. "It isn't easy to change people; I wouldn't count on it. Just use a little caution so it doesn't get so heavy it drowns out everything else. You don't have to spend every waking minute with him, and you don't have to go to bed with him."

  "I haven't."

  "Good."
r />   "But what if I did.^ What would be so terrible about it.'' We're two grown-up people; we're not children and we're not dumb; we can take care of ourselves."

  "Emma, we've had so many talks about this—"

  "We wouldn't do anything stupid; I'm not going to get AIDS or anything."

  "That isn't the only thing I worry about; I worry about your getting hurt, and I think—"

  "You're always worrying! You're always talking about being careful and . . . using caution. You're so busy worrying you never live! I mean, you've been great, working and taking care of me all alone, but that was all you did. You never went anywhere or made new friends or had exciting lovers or anything; you just sort of got through every day, and you never lived. Now you can do anything you want, because you're rich, but now you're old—" She saw Claire's eyebrows go up. "Well, not really old, I didn't mean that, but not young, either—I mean, I suppose you're middle-aged —and I'm not going to wait till I'm middle-aged or old or anything; I'm going to do everything now while I'm young. I don't want to be like you, I want to be me, and do everything, and liveF'

  Claire sat still, looking at her clasped hands. Emma's words settled within her like small lumps of lead. Emma had never talked to her that way; she had always been quiet and obedient and sweet-tempered. Oh, now and then she was willful and stub-

  born, but even then Claire felt they were more like sisters than anything else. Other mothers had trouble with their daughters, but Claire had never had any problems at all. Until now. She took a long breath. "I'm not telling you not to live. I think you've had a pretty good life so far, and you can have a wonderful life without Brix Eiger being at the center of it. Emma, I think it would be a mistake for you to get deeply involved with him; I just have that feeling."

  "But that's your feeling, not mine! You think just because my father left you, men are going to leave me."