by Luanne Rice
Cass leaned down, so Josie could grab onto her neck, and suddenly Josie was lifted to eye level. Her mother’s neck and hair smelled cool and sweet, like honeysuckle at night. Josie sniffed it while her mother talked to Aunt Nora. Their voices blurred together, one word splashing into the next. Josie tried to understand the conversation by watching their faces, the way they smiled, their eyes following Nora’s boyfriend and their old grandmother.
Now Cass and Josie moved to the food table, where they ducked down to admire the tray of shrimp and clams. The last time Josie and her mother had gone snorkeling, they had seen a tiny clam zipping along the sand. Just like a girl skipping. Josie had picked it up, wanting to take it home. But when they were on the sand, her mother had said to throw the clam back. She had said it would die out of the water. Josie stared at the clams on the tray.
“Let’s see them,” Josie said, reaching down.
Her mother’s hand closed around Josie’s. “They’re to eat, not play with.”
“But I want to play!” Josie said, squirming. “Let’s be mermaids. Let’s play …”
“Sssh,” Cass said. “Calm down. I know you’re having fun, it’s a party, but don’t get too excited.”
Her grandmother walked over. She held out her arms, wanting to take Josie. But Josie held her mother’s neck tighter. She loved her grandmother, but she didn’t like the way she smelled: a mixture of cigarettes and fried fish. Her grandmother didn’t seem to mind; she wanted to talk to Cass about lobsters.
“We don’t need that,” Cass said. “There’s enough here.”
Even though she was talking to someone else, Cass made sure to speak clearly, so Josie could understand. Josie watched her mouth, catching every word, while her grandmother’s words were mush. But her grandmother had a funny look in her eyes that made Josie think she was worried. She fiddled with the parsley on the shrimp tray, rearranged the lemon slices.
“Okay, okay,” Cass said. She rolled her eyes, to show Josie she thought something was ridiculous. Now Cass hurried across the room, toward Billy.
“You stay with Daddy,” she said to Josie. “I have to help Gram.”
Instinctively, Josie clung to her mother’s neck. Cass had to pry her arms loose. Josie didn’t want her father right now. He always played with her extra hard, and it made her feel bad, that she never seemed to have enough fun for him. But her mother kissed her cheek, handing her over.
“Josie’s all wound up,” Cass said. “See if you can calm her down while I run to the kitchen. Help your dad, T.J.”
Her father took Josie and immediately began joking, pushing Josie’s nose and saying “beep-beep.” Now he was telling her a story, or maybe he was talking to T.J. and Sean. Josie couldn’t tell; her brother and cousin were right there, laughing at something. Knowing Sean, he was probably laughing at her. Josie wiggled like a fish, until her father put her down.
Standing on the floor, Josie looked around for her mother. She started to walk away, but her father pulled her back. He plunked her onto his foot and moved it up and down like a horse. She climbed off. T.J. leaned over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Want Mommy,” Josie said.
“She’ll be right back. She’s getting a lobster for Willis.”
Josie nodded. Her brother stood up, went straight back to talking to Daddy and Sean. She stared at her black patent-leather shoes, glinting in the lamplight. She was starting to get a bad feeling. The comforting hum of her relatives’ voices now seemed mean. People were talking, and Josie couldn’t hear. Everyone was included but her. They were leaving her out.
She started to whimper. She felt it in her throat, a lump that made her want to scream. Her father, brother, and cousin were standing right there, not caring about her. She wanted to bite their knees. The lump grew bigger.
T.J. bent down again, an angry look in his eyes.
“Stop that,” he said.
“Eh, eh, eh,” Josie said, feeling tears burn her eyes.
“This is a party,” he said. “Be a good girl.”
Josie stared at T.J.’s flashing eyes. If he would rather talk to Sean, if he wasn’t going to pay attention to her, she hated him. She pushed his chin.
“Don’t do that,” he said, touching her chin with his finger.
She slapped out with both hands, flailing like a windmill. Then she jumped back, running away from him.
He went straight back to their father and Sean. They were all talking as if she didn’t even exist. Josie could see them laughing about something, not watching her.
She saw her mother coming through the door. There were people in the way, but Josie tore across the room toward her. She flew around Belinda, and she brushed Aunt Nora’s skirt. Josie’s voice tore out of her chest, calling her mother’s name.
Her mother stopped still, her mouth open. She held up her hands, motioning Josie to stop. Confused, Josie tried to slow down, but her legs kept moving. Suddenly she saw. She knew what was going to happen, but she couldn’t make her feet stop. She felt frozen, even as she flew.
“Josie!” T.J. yelled, diving across the room.
Josie charged into the waiter with such force, she fell down, flat on her back. The waiter wobbled; for one instant Josie thought he was going to keep his balance. But the tray jiggled on his hand like a live thing. Plates and lobsters shuddered like a cartoon earthquake. The tray hovered, wanting to right itself, and then Josie watched it come crashing down.
13
Billy sped them to the hospital. Cass held Josie, unconscious, wrapped in a tablecloth. She knew that when someone’s been hurt, you’re supposed to wait for trained emergency people to arrive, to check for neck or spine injuries. But as soon as the tray fell, Cass had flung broken plates out of the way, scooped up Josie, and carried her to their car.
“Your hands are cut,” Billy said.
“Drive, Billy,” Cass said, intently watching the road, as if by concentrating she could get them there faster.
T.J. sat silently in back, holding a handful of napkins against a deep cut on his forehead.
Cass felt afraid to look down. Josie had so many cuts from shards of china, the white tablecloth was soaked with blood. Cass had lifted her from the floor as if she were a cloth doll. In the car, Cass held her in her arms like a baby, making her as small as possible, compressing her, and she realized that she believed every bone in Josie’s body was broken and she was trying to hold Josie together.
“Bonnie was going to call ahead. They’re waiting for us,” Billy said.
Cass bent low, whispered in Josie’s ear. “Mommy’s here, sweetheart. Mommy’s right here.”
“Mom, is she going to be okay?” T.J. asked.
“We’re doing our best,” Billy answered.
Their car sped up Vincent Street, screeched into the hospital’s emergency entrance. Cass remembered coming here the night of Josie’s fever, after her seizure. She had wrapped Josie in a blanket that night, too, held her tight, whispered in her ear. She had believed Josie could hear her, but she was wrong. The damage had already been done.
Two men in white took Josie from Cass. They strapped her to a stretcher and rushed her inside, through the waiting room, behind a curtain. Cass tried to run after her, but Billy made her stop.
“Let the doctor look at her,” he said.
“I need to be with her,” Cass wailed.
“Don’t yell, Mom!” T.J. said, alarmed.
“You two let this happen to her! I should never have left her with you. I was only gone a minute … oh, God, if she’s not okay …”
“Mom, I didn’t mean to,” T.J. said with anguish.
“What could have been so important? What were you thinking?”
“Mom!”
A nurse hurried over from behind the desk. “Please, Mrs. Medieros, try to calm down. Tell me what happened.”
“Do I have to admit her?” Cass asked numbly while a secretary led Billy and T.J. to the desk.
“N
o. Your husband can take care of that.” The nurse had straight brown hair pulled into a ponytail, freckles across her cheeks, wire-rimmed glasses, a steady voice. “Sit down. Tell me what happened. What’s her name?”
“Josie. Her name is Josie,” Cass said, and for the first time since the accident, she started to cry.
“How old is she?”
“Four.”
“I have a four-year-old.”
Cass stopped listening. Her pants were stained with Josie’s blood. She leaned over, her face very close to her thighs. Her pants smelled like lobster.
T.J. had walked over. He stood in front of the nurse. “Will my sister be okay?” he asked, his voice still shaking. “The tray knocked her out.”
“Let the doctor look at her. I want someone to check your head—and your mother’s hands. What happened?”
“A bunch of plates crashed. Right on top of Josie,” T.J. said. He had slid across the floor to protect her just a moment too late. He’d slashed his forehead, just above his eye. Cass glanced at his face, then away. She already regretted her outburst, but now found she couldn’t speak.
“If it knocked her out, she probably didn’t realize what was happening,” the nurse said. “That’s a blessing.” Then she took T.J. away for stitches and a head X-ray.
But Cass kept seeing the look in Josie’s eyes, just before the tray crashed down on her. She was lying on her back, looking almost comfortable, her fine black hair splayed around her head. Amid the furor, her dark eyes searched for Cass. Finding her mother, she gazed at her with apology and a question: Are you mad at me?
Now Billy sat beside her. He tried to take her hands, to check her cuts. She started to pull back, but stopped herself and let him look at them.
Thirty minutes passed, but it seemed like hours. A doctor came into the waiting room. Cass recognized her; she came into Lobsterville now and then with her husband and young kids.
“Josie will need to be watched here,” the doctor said, “but she will be fine. She has a concussion, a broken wrist, and some bad cuts, especially on her arm. You’re very lucky it wasn’t much worse.”
“She’s alive?” Cass asked. Only when she heard the words come out of her mouth did she realize what she had been thinking. “Oh, yes,” the doctor said.
Cass felt the tension break. She burst into tears of relief. Billy touched her shaking shoulders, then withdrew his hand when she didn’t lean into him. The doctor stood by patiently, waiting for Cass to stop. She must see this all the time, Cass thought. Little children covered in blood.
“Is she awake?” Cass asked, sniffling.
“No. She regained consciousness, but we sedated her. She’s had some stitches, and we had to set her wrist.”
“All that blood …” Cass said, feeling that she might start to cry again.
“The chin bleeds heavily, and the tongue. She broke a tooth, and it cut her tongue.”
“They’re just baby teeth,” Cass said. “She’s never lost one before.”
“But she’ll be okay?” Billy asked.
“Yes,” the doctor said. “She’ll be fine. Still, we’ll need to keep her for a few days. I’ve reviewed her chart, and we want to watch for any change in her hearing.”
“Could it get worse?” Cass asked.
“That’s a possibility. But let’s just watch and see.”
Watch her hearing, Cass thought incongruously.
“Can we see her?” Billy asked.
“Of course,” the doctor said.
They tiptoed into a curtained cubicle. Bluish light filtered in from the central section. Josie lay on a stretcher, the sides up like a crib, a white sheet tucked around her. They had washed away all the blood. She had some fierce black stitches on her chin and over her left eyebrow. Cass peeled back the sheet. Josie wore a white hospital gown with blue stars on it. Both her arms were bandaged, and her left wrist was in a cast.
Cass let Billy hug her, rock her at Josie’s bedside.
“It’s my fault,” he said quietly, his eyes wide. “Oh, Cass. I’m so sorry.”
Cass, who to a large degree believed that it was Billy’s fault, remained silent for a moment. She wanted to reassure him, but her anger choked her. “The doctor said she’ll be fine,” she said after a moment.
She stared at Billy, feeling cold. At the same time, she wanted to relent, to make everything okay, to pull her family together. Yet she felt that familiar numbness seeping in, keeping her still.
“Say something,” he said.
“Why did you turn away? Why didn’t you watch her when I’d asked you to?” Cass asked calmly, turning the questions over in her mind, like two shells she’d picked up on the beach.
“It was just for a second,” Billy said miserably.
“Yes,” Cass said, nodding. Nothing was getting through to her. Suddenly she thought of Josie’s death: she’d half expected it, before the doctor had come to tell them Josie was alive. The thought was so real and powerful, it hit her like a truck. She covered her eyes, heard herself moan out loud.
“Oh, Cass,” Billy said again. “Cass.”
Pressing against his chest, she felt him shaking as hard as she was.
The nurse brought T.J. to find them. He hung back, as if he didn’t want to get too near to Josie. Cass turned to look at him, shocked by the long gash in his forehead, frighteningly close to his eye, a mirror image of Josie’s cut. Until now, Cass hadn’t realized her son had been hurt, too.
She stood on her toes, pulled T.J. down so she could kiss him. “I’m sorry for what I said before,” she said.
“Shhh,” T.J. said. “You’ll wake Josie.”
“Come on,” Billy said. “We’ve done all we can tonight. Let’s get a doctor to look at your hands.” He lightly touched Cass’s cut fingers. “Then get Teej home and into bed. Come on.”
“I’m going to stay,” Cass said. “I want her to see me when she wakes up.”
Billy stared, shaking his head. “I’m not letting you. You shouldn’t be alone here. Come on.”
“I won’t be alone. I’ll be with Josie.” Her voice was soft, to let Billy know she would be okay if he left. He gave her a long, questioning gaze, then shrugged, as if he knew he’d never win this argument.
Cass kissed her husband and son goodnight and settled down in a chair next to Josie’s bed. The hospital seemed mysterious, full of magical sounds. Strange gongs rang; nurses whisper-called each other on hidden intercoms; someone in pain howled. Cass watched dreams flicker across Josie’s face.
Cass tried to imagine what her dreams could be. Josie had one long, placid stage of sleep, no movement whatsoever, and Cass envisioned her dreaming of them rocking in a boat together on gentle waves in a peaceful cove. A warm breeze stirred the water’s surface; they watched cunners and minnows dart through the shallows. Sea birds were singing, and Josie could hear their calls. They dove from the boat and swam underwater.
Josie’s face twitched; she called out in pain. “Oh!” she cried without waking up.
“I’m here, Josie. I’ll be right here when you need me,” Cass said against Josie’s cheek.
She sat back, exhausted. Staring at Josie, she thought of T.J. She had the feeling that if she could see into his deepest heart, she would discover that she had hurt him worse than he had ever been hurt before. Worse than the leg he’d broken skateboarding; worse than the shoulder he’d dislocated windsurfing; worse than the time he’d taken a blood oath with Sean and his finger had gotten infected; worse than the cut for which he had just gotten stitches.
Cass had wounded T.J. in the worst way. Sitting there in the hospital, she had no real idea how badly. But if she was lucky, if she opened her eyes, if she started to listen as hard as Josie did, she might find out.
14
The same day Josie had her accident, Billy Medieros had bought his boat. First thing that morning he’d gone down to Mount Hope Savings Bank and withdrawn five thousand dollars for a down payment; George Magnano, the seller,
had agreed to hold a fifteen-year note for the rest.
Billy had planned to cap off the family party with an announcement. He had dreamed, in a vague, unformed way, of toasting Cass, then his new boat, which he’d been planning to name Cassandra. He had imagined congratulations, toasts all around, the pleasure he would take in Cass’s pride. He had dreamed of sneaking away from the party with Cass, leaving the kids with their grandparents, while he showed her the boat, her namesake.
He had been dreaming of his own boat forever. Before he and Cass had ever talked about having kids, they’d imagined the day he would get his own boat. Weeks ago, when he’d first started considering George’s boat as a real possibility, right after Keating had named John a captain, Billy had bought a can of red paint. Right then he’d envisioned the boat’s new name and home port painted on the transom:
CASSANDRA
MOUNT HOPE, R.I.
He had a bottle of champagne under the seat in his truck, ready for Cass to smash across the bow at the christening. But now any celebrating would have to wait. Cass spent every day at the hospital. Today Josie’s doctor had given them the test results: it looked as if Josie’s accident had caused her hearing to get worse. Maybe the problem would disappear when the swelling went down, but the doctor wasn’t sure.
Cass didn’t even know he’d bought the boat, and the longer Billy waited to tell her, the more guilty he felt: for not looking after Josie right, for buying the boat without telling Cass, for how happy the boat made him.
Billy knew it exhausted Cass, seeing their daughter hurt, unable to bring her home. At night she would crane her neck, rub her tired muscles. Full of plans for his new boat, Billy would feel ashamed. After all, Cass was blameless, while he had failed to protect Josie. Sometimes he felt himself start to turn on Cass. She’d begin to seem saintly and dutiful, suffering while he had all the fun. The crazy part was, it was supposed to be fun for her, too. Buying a boat was supposed to have been a high point of their life together.
“I bought George’s boat,” he said bluntly on Josie’s third night in the hospital, when he and Cass were finally in bed.