The Summer of Good Intentions

by Wendy Francis

  Virgie shrugged without looking up. “The computer, maybe?”

  Jess headed straight for the stairs. There was no time to waste. She needed to hear Maggie’s advice. Needed to know what Maggie would do in her shoes. Of course, her twin would never cheat on her husband in the first place, but Maggie was good with these sorts of crises. As if they fueled her blood. She would set Jess on the right path. And, suddenly, Jess realized this was what she’d been hoping for this whole vacation. To confess her sins to Maggie. To, in some strange way, earn her sister’s forgiveness. Once she’d heard from Maggie that what she’d done was terrible but not unforgivable, she would be okay.

  And then she could focus on the work of getting her marriage back.

  She stood outside the bedroom door. Her sister’s back was turned to her. “Mags?” she called out. “I need to talk.”

  Maggie

  After she slid the birthday cakes into the oven (they were having a little celebration for Arthur tonight), Maggie promised herself she’d only peek. Quickly. She knew it was crazy, but the idea had snuck into her head a few months ago. She’d been talking with the other moms at the playground one spring day while the kids whipped down the slide. Life was crazy; everyone was overwhelmed. But what was going to happen once their babies went off to kindergarten? they wondered aloud. “We’ll finally have some time to ourselves!” her friend Kit joked. Maggie got that part—she looked forward to her freedom as much as the next person. But if she was being completely honest with herself, she also missed Luke’s snuggles and baby coos, the warmth of a little body being rocked to sleep in her arms. “So, why don’t you have another?” Kit asked.

  “Not physically possible,” Maggie said. In a rush to get into the world, Luke had arrived in a way that made a hysterectomy a necessity. “We’re done.”

  “Oh,” Kit said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Maggie waved her hand in the air as if it were no big deal.

  “It’s just that you’re so good at it,” Kit struggled to explain. “I mean, I watch you with Luke and your girls and you’re a natural. You make it look so easy.”

  Maggie laughed, but she felt a twinge of recognition in Kit’s words. She was a good mother. She loved playing and making fairy dresses and reading Bedtime for Frances a million times. What on earth would she do once everyone was in school?

  “There are other ways, you know,” Kit said, a lilt in her voice. “Like adoption or foster care?”

  “Oh,” said Maggie, right before yelling at Luke to stop climbing up the slide. “I suppose, though I don’t think Mac would be into it.”

  “Why not?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he likes seeing little replicas of himself running around,” she teased. “Seriously, though, I guess we’ve never really discussed it.”

  “Well,” Kit said, “there are plenty of children who need someone to love them. Henry and I researched it when we had such a hard time getting pregnant with Sam.”

  “Really?” Maggie was shocked. She’d had no idea that getting pregnant had been an issue for Kit, one of those moms who always had a nutritious snack and an organic juice box at the ready.

  They watched while Sam ran and flung himself belly-first onto a swing. “Of course, now that Sam’s here, it’s impossible to imagine our lives without him.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Maggie said. She couldn’t imagine their family without Lexie, Sophie, and Luke. They were all integral parts of the whole McNeil clan. But what had snuck up on her that day at the playground was that she did want another. Which took her by complete surprise. Because she felt as if she’d just crossed the finish line of the baby-toddler years. She’d somehow managed to usher all her children through their first years of life relatively unscathed, and it gave her a rush of accomplishment. Look at how beautiful they were! How successful! How well adjusted (well, she still had some work to do with Lexie). She had imposed order on the messiness of their lives. And now perhaps she and Mac could get some of their old life back—dinners out, nights at the movies with friends. They could hire a babysitter without endlessly worrying that one of the kids would be inconsolable until they got home.

  And yet.

  Maggie craved having another little one around. If not a baby, then a toddler. Luke was growing up so fast! Just once more, she wanted to nuzzle a small body against hers. To give love where it was needed. She thought back to a test she’d taken in college that matched her personality with careers. Every match that popped up for her involved helping others: nursing, teaching, mothering, social worker. “I guess you’re a natural-born giver,” the counselor had said with a hint of condescension. Now, while Maggie watched all the kids at the summer house, the longing was palpable. It was almost as if a phantom child was following her around.

  She didn’t know the first thing about foster care, but the faces, their expressions! Children of all ages gazed out at her from the screen, their enormous eyes begging her to take them. Pick me! they seemed to cry. She scrolled down and clicked on “Frequently Asked Questions.” She learned that in Massachusetts, the average age for a child in foster care was eight, but that babies and toddlers were also looking for homes. She wouldn’t mind skipping those first few sleepless months with a newborn, she thought. Perhaps there was a toddler in need of a family. Luke was so good with little kids, and Sophie was already like a second mother to him. Maggie loved the idea of expanding their family by one, of giving a home to a child who might not otherwise have one. “There are plenty of children who need someone to love them,” Kit had said. She was right.

  Maggie’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and she quickly clicked off the site, her fingers trembling. She didn’t want to get caught. There would be plenty of time to research foster care once Luke started kindergarten. She debated when would be the best opportunity to mention it to Mac, though. It should happen at the summer house, of that much she was sure. Here she had Mac’s full attention. But when? Should she suggest a romantic dinner, just the two of them? Or should she try to sell the idea to the whole family at the risk of making Mac feel ambushed? She knew the kids would be on board, and if it were a boy, Luke might even want to share his bedroom. But she was getting ahead of herself.

  “Mags?” She spun around in her chair. Jess stood in the doorway, looking as if she might have come down with a bad case of sunstroke. “I need to talk.”

  “Jessie, honey, what’s wrong?” She got up and went to put her hand on her sister’s back, guiding her to the bed.

  “I’m a terrible person,” Jess said and burst into tears.

  Maggie felt herself pull back just a touch. “What do you mean?” She couldn’t imagine Jess of all people—dear, practical, smart, caring Jess—doing anything terrible.

  “I had an affair,” she choked out between sobs. And, at that moment, the timer for Arthur’s cakes went off in the kitchen.

  The adults sat at the table, waiting for Arthur to make a wish. The double-chocolate cake dipped ever so slightly in the middle (Maggie had been a little late pulling it out, understandably so, she thought), but the seventy-two candles burned brightly. The kids were gathered around Arthur, their cheeks puffed, waiting for their grandpa to say “Blow!” Maggie would bet a hundred bucks she already knew her dad’s wish: that Gloria would drop Gio and come back to him. She hoped, though, for Arthur’s sake, that it was an entirely different wish. Perhaps to see the Galápagos Islands before he died. Maybe to learn how to scuba dive. Bucket list kinds of things. Those were appropriate wishes for a seventy-second birthday.

  “Go!” Arthur shouted, and the whole gang blew.

  “There’s no question there’s some spit mixed in with that,” Tim said, prompting laughter.

  Maggie shot Jess a look, but her sister was preoccupied plucking candles from the cake, her eyes still swollen from crying. An affair. So that was it, although technically Maggie wasn’t sure it counted as an affair since no
actual sex was involved. An affair of the heart. Maggie knew things were off between Tim and her sister, but another man? She would have never guessed it. Where on earth did her sister find the time?

  She should be angry with Jess. Herington sisters didn’t cheat! They were loyal to a tee. And, though she hated to admit it, a small part of her was hurt that Jess hadn’t confided in her sooner. Didn’t they share everything with each other, sometimes even before they told their husbands? Maggie worked to set aside her pride and consider the bigger problem. The way she saw it, Tim was at fault, too. It sounded as if he’d gone missing as a husband for the last year.

  Maggie cut generous slices of cake, chocolate frosting dripping from the sides, and slid them onto festive little party plates. As she did so, she found herself sneaking looks at her sister. Jess was undeniably pretty, with soft brown hair and eyes that were almost black; it was no surprise that another man had swooped in. What Jess needed to do, Maggie recognized, was precisely what her sister had already done. Break things off with this Cole guy and focus on getting her marriage back. Tim might be a wet towel, but he was Jess’s husband. He had his strengths, Maggie, of all people, found herself reminding her sister. In fact, he’d been downright solicitous and helpful this vacation. A pleasant surprise. Maggie had seen marriages in much worse shape rebound from the grave. If other couples could do it, Jess and Tim most certainly could salvage theirs.

  And she’d told Jess as much, once she’d recovered from the shock of it all. “Okay, so you’ve done something wrong. Pretty awful, actually,” Maggie counseled her. “But it’s not the end of the world. For heaven’s sake, it’s not like you murdered someone!” She ran through a quick mental list of acts that would be worse but had difficulty coming up with much. Cheating on your husband was pretty bad. Still, it wasn’t as if Jess had slept with the guy. There had been some kissing and groping, a few heart-to-heart talks. Why, it was practically a teenage romance!

  “The important thing is that you’ve ended it. No more hanging out with this guy. You need to focus on Tim now. And your family.”

  Jess nodded.

  “And I have to say, Tim’s been a really good guy this vacation. He’s been helping out and doing a lot with the kids.”

  “I know,” Jess said, wiping her nose. “That’s what makes the whole thing even more awful. It’s like Tim is making this concerted effort to be a dad again, to be my husband again.”

  Maggie considered this. “Who knows? Maybe if he hadn’t gotten jealous over Cole, he wouldn’t have been so eager to get his act together.”

  Jess crinkled her eyes at her in surprise. Had Maggie really just suggested what she thought she had? That in some ways, Jess’s wandering heart could be the wake-up call her sister’s marriage needed? Thank goodness Maggie hadn’t gone into psychiatry. She would have lost her license years ago.

  She passed Arthur his piece of birthday cake. “Happy birthday, Dad!”

  “How old am I again?” he asked.

  She laughed, but Arthur stared at her with such a wondering look, she was caught off guard.

  “Seventy-two!” Sophie shouted. “Do you feel wiser, Grandpa?”

  Arthur shook his head. “Seventy-two. I am getting old, aren’t I? And no, can’t say I feel any wiser. A little balder maybe, but definitely not smarter.”

  “Grandpa’s going to make a really cool trap for Roger,” Luke said, as if compelled to point out that Arthur still had his wits about him.

  “Who’s Roger?” asked Mac.

  “The raccoon, Daddy,” Sophie explained.

  “That’s right.” Arthur took another bite of cake. “We’re going to get Roger, aren’t we, kids?”

  Teddy bobbed his little head with crisp, affirmative nods.

  “Roger’s a good name,” said Mac. “I hope you hurry up and catch him, though, because he’s making a mess of our yard.” Roger had paid them visits the last two nights, strewing trash across the front lawn in unsightly heaps.

  “Luke, honey, why don’t you give Grandpa his present?” Maggie suggested now.

  He jumped up from the table, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with a gift in hand.

  “Why, thank you.” Arthur took the present from him and began to peel back the wrapping paper. “Holy smokes. Would you look at that?” He held it up for everyone to see. “My very own flat-screen TV.”

  The girls laughed. “It’s an iPad, Grandpa!”

  Arthur winked, pretending to play dumb. “An I-what?”

  “Here, I’ll show you,” and before anyone could stop him, Luke ripped the computer out of his hands and ran to the couch with it.

  “Luke, let Grandpa have a look,” Mac scolded. “It’s his present, right?” But the other kids had already joined him. Mac turned to Arthur apologetically. “Well, at least they can help you set it up. Just don’t ask any of us adults.”

  “It’s wonderful, but you shouldn’t have,” Arthur said with a laugh. “I’m an old man. I’m not sure I can learn new tricks.”

  “You’re going to love it, Dad.” Jess went over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Happy birthday, you old man.” Maggie got up to do the same.

  She cast around for Virgie. “Hey, where did Virgie go?” She and Jess began tossing the soggy plates into the trash.

  “I think I saw her head upstairs.” Tim stood to help clear the table, and Maggie felt a jolt of sadness hit her. Instead of angry, she felt sorry for her brother-in-law. It was an odd, unfamiliar sensation.

  When Mac tossed the wrapping paper and candles into the trash, Arthur said, “Now hold on there,” and fished the paper and candles back out of the bag. “You never know when you might be able to use these again.” He folded the wrapping paper into a neat little square and placed the used candles on top. Maggie glanced at Jess, who shrugged.

  “I’ll check on Virgie,” Maggie said and took the remainder of the cake out to the kitchen. She snapped the cover on the cake tray and grabbed the dirty kitchen towels for the laundry. Yes, she decided, as she climbed the stairs. I’ll tell Jess my plan for Operation Marriage Rescue. Jess and Tim weren’t beyond saving. Sometimes it took a lightning bolt to stoke the old flame. They simply needed time to talk, maybe a date night.

  “Virgie?” she called at the top of the stairs. “We gave Dad his present.” She couldn’t believe her sister had missed it all.

  She headed for the laundry room. When she passed the kids’ bedroom, she tapped on the door. “Virg?”

  She pushed lightly on the door and dropped the towels. There was Virgie. Lying on the floor, facedown, not moving.

  Virgie

  When Virgie opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was light. A bright white light. She thought, perhaps, she had died. She squinted, trying to focus, but it hurt too much. She closed her eyes.

  “Virgie? Virgie, honey?” She could hear Maggie’s voice above her. Maggie was in heaven, too? She tried to think. Had they been in a car accident?

  “She’s coming to. Thank heaven.” That was Gloria. “Virgie, dear, can you hear us? Squeeze my hand, if you can.”

  Why was her mother giving her orders in heaven? Virgie wanted to know. Gloria had followed her all the way to the other side and she was still bossing her around.

  She tried to say, “Mom, stop it,” but the words wouldn’t budge. When Virgie worked to move her lips, her throat burned.

  Then Maggie’s voice found her again. “Virgie, you fainted. You’re in the hospital. The doctors are running some tests to make sure you’re okay. Then we’ll get you out of here.” She felt her other hand being patted. “You just rest now.”

  Virgie tried to nod, but a sharp pain shot through her neck. “My neck,” she managed to get out.

  “Yes, you twisted it a little when you fell. It’s going to be okay, though. Nothing’s broken. Just a few bruises.”

  “What day is it?” she asked. She couldn’t figure out how long she’d been in the hospital. Why was everyone in Seattle? She needed to get bac
k to work!

  “It’s Saturday, honey. We were celebrating Dad’s birthday, remember? You fainted. At the summer house.”

  At the mention of the summer house, Virgie felt a flash of recognition. Oh, right. A wash of warmth spilled over her. Vacation. She was on vacation. She didn’t need to go to work today. Relief flooded her. But she was oh, so very tired. She heard the beeping of machines, then an unfamiliar voice.

  “Time to check your vitals, honey.” She felt someone take her arm and wrap a cuff around it, followed by a squeezing sensation. “Just a few minutes, and I’ll be out of your way.”

  “Sure,” said a gruff voice. Arthur’s?

  Man, she couldn’t remember feeling this tired in a long, long time. If she could just nap for maybe fifteen minutes, she’d be better. She’d catch up with everyone then. Find out what their news was. She was sure they would understand.

  When she woke the next time, the bright lights had faded. She willed her eyes to open, but the ceiling above her was gray. She heard snoring. She tried to turn her neck but felt a jab of pain. Oh, right. There was something about her neck. Her mouth felt like cotton. She desperately needed water. “Hello?” She tried to get the word out, but it sounded more like a squawk. Somewhere on the periphery, there was a shuffle.

  “Virgie?” It was Maggie. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Her sister’s face appeared above her. “You’re awake. Oh, that’s good, honey. That’s very good. Here.” She felt cold ice chips against her lips, and never in her life had ice tasted so delicious. She sucked and let the cold dribble down her chin. She struggled to push herself up in bed.

  “Easy, there. Let me help you.” Maggie reached for the pillows and fluffed them behind her so that Virgie was semi-upright.