Eight
Annali was showing Pru her new baby. Pru recognized it as Dipsy, the green Teletubby with the halo. They were sitting on the deck of Pru’s grandmother’s beach house in Delaware, eating strawberry Jell-O Jigglers and watching Patsy and Jacob as they made their way down the beach.
Pru hadn’t been in the beach house in years. When she and Patsy were kids, they would visit the house every summer, even after her grandmother had died. But Nadine and Leonard seemed to slow down drastically when Pru was in college. They found the ten-hour trip difficult, between the packing and the driving and opening and closing up the house. Pru was surprised to realize the house had been, for the past ten years, largely unoccupied. She’d actually forgotten about it until Patsy brought it up. Annali called the Dipsy “PBSKids” and stuck it under her nightgown to nurse. Pru thought that her niece looked like a child from a Robert McCloskey book, a girl named Sal, maybe, or Jane. She looked as though she should be digging for clams on a beach in Maine, or squatting to pet a duckling. Annali had a tight cap of coarse, curly blond hair, and pink cheeks. Her face was round and shining, and she always looked a little bit sleepy. It had been such a relief when she’d run up to Pru in the airport. Pru hadn’t fully realized it at the time, but she’d been afraid Annali had forgotten who she was.
Annali was holding the little knit hat she carried with her everywhere she went. It was the hat Pru’s mother had made for Pru when she was a baby. The yarn used to be white with colored flecks in it, but Annali had loved it until it turned a sort of speckled gray. Annali fingered the hat when she sucked her thumb, and rubbed her knuckles against it as she fell asleep.
Labor Day weekend was the best one in Rehoboth Beach— still warm and beautiful, the last gasp of the season. From the window of the Peter Pan bus she’d taken up from D.C., Pru saw the same boardwalk she’d remembered as a kid, the huge red sign for Dolle’s Salt Water Taffy. All the same places were there, with their ancient, faded signs: Starkey’s Cones and Sundaes, Gus & Gus Place Hamburgers French Fries and Fried Chicken, and the Playland/Virtual Fun Redemption Arcade.
“PBSKids wants more Jell-O,” Annali said, pushing Dipsy’s head into the bowl.
“PBSKids needs something to eat besides Jell-O,” said Pru. She was already planning the wholesome meals she’d prepare during Annali’s stay. She was taking her back to D.C. with her in the morning, so Patsy and Jacob could have some “grown-up” time together. Annali’s diet seemed to consist solely of Jell-O and “lollipops,” big spoonfuls of peanut butter. She didn’t think she once saw the girl eat a vegetable or anything made with a whole grain. And Pru herself could do with something other than tuna and crackers.
The house was situated on a relatively isolated strip of beach just north of town. She could still make out Patsy and Jacob, two black scrawls holding hands, coming toward her down the beach. The shawl Patsy had tied around her waist whipped her legs in the mild wind, and her hair blew long and loose.
Since Pru had arrived last night, Patsy and Jacob hadn’t stopped talking for a moment. Their ongoing dialogue ranged far and wide—Tibet, the perfection of the arch of Patsy’s foot, Sid Vicious, the origin of the word salacious (whether Greek or Latin), getting Annali to swim. Although the subjects changed frequently, Pru noticed, there was a single connecting line: Things Patsy and Jacob See in Exactly the Same Way.
There was a second favorite topic: Things Patsy and Jacob Don’t See in Exactly the Same Way, and Why One or the Other Is Completely Wrong.
They were enthralled with each other. When Pru didn’t feel invisible, she felt like a groupie. She felt she was being called upon to appreciate their specialness. She didn’t want to dislike Jacob, but she couldn’t help it. Pru found it hard to trust someone so clearly fortunate in all ways. But, then again, maybe she was just jealous.
The fact was she’d never seen Patsy so happy. She’d hardly dated at all since having Annali. The daily life of a single mom with a young child wasn’t so attractive to most guys, especially the ones still hanging around Nome, Ohio. They were stuck in a kind of time warp, drinking beer at the same bars, their car stereos still programmed to WMMS, Home of the Buzzard! Playing the Rock You Grew Up With.
Annali shoved the Teletubby into her lap and said, “Auntie Pru, I have to burp.”
“So, burp,” Pru said.
Annali opened her mouth and a thick, red stream fell across the white patio table.
For a minute Pru thought she was playing a trick on her. As she watched the blood drip through the cracks in the table, her stomach clenched.
“Aunt Pru?” Annali said, in a frightened, quavering voice. Pru raised her eyes from the table. Annali’s eyes were round and glassy. Pru stood up and the chair behind her clattered to the floor.
She ran to the balcony and screamed Patsy’s name as loud as she could. They were much closer than she’d expected. Patsy looked up, dropped Jacob’s hand, and broke into a full run. She came thundering up the wooden stairs, Jacob right behind her.
“What happened? Jesus God,” she said, when she saw the table. For a moment, they were all mesmerized.
Then Patsy recovered, throwing her hands in the air and crying, “Oopsie!” She sang it out in this trilling, Romper Room voice, like Oopsie, you spilled your juice! And not Oopsie, you just threw up your own liver!
Jacob stepped forward, stuck a finger in the pool of blood, and brought it up
