Ari set her mug on the bedside table. Her mother’s face was a dangerous pink. “Mom, please. It’s all right. I think teaching little children is the most important job in the world.”
“Well, I don’t! Look at what teachers get paid compared to lawyers!”
“Then things should change.”
“Oh, you think you’re going to set the world to rights, do you? You think you’re going to live in a house as nice as ours and wear nice clothes and change the world? How can you be so naïve?” Tears glittered in Alicia’s eyes.
Concerned for her mother, Ari stood up and reached out to hug her. “Mom. Mommy. It will be all right.”
Her mother shoved Ari’s arms away so quickly and angrily, it was like a slap.
“I am so ashamed of you!” her mother said. She pivoted on her heel and left the room.
Ari sank back onto her bed, hugging herself. Her mother had always had a temper, but this was unusual, and it worried Ari. Naturally, Ari had had arguments with her mother all her life, but this was different.
As worried as she was, Ari was also angry. Did her mother expect her to marry a man she didn’t love? And her mother was ashamed of her? Ari wanted to storm out of her bedroom and yell at her mother that she, Alicia, had never worked since she had married, she’d never sold an ice cream cone or baked a damn cookie or even volunteered, except for stupid clubs where all they did was hold galas. Her mother loved that sort of thing. No wonder Ari’s dad always looked so tired. Alicia was probably disappointed in her husband.
Too bad Peter couldn’t marry Ari’s mother. They’d be a perfect match.
The ridiculous thought made Ari laugh. She quickly sobered up, thinking of her parents’ marriage, which was so full of storms and distances.
—
Ari kept to her room that day. She unpacked, carried winter clothes, duffel bags, and old school books up to the attic. She had long, emotional talks with her friends on the phone. She napped. In the late afternoon, when she knew her mother would be having a little cocktail with her father, Ari pulled on running gear, slipped out of the house, and went for a run. She pushed herself, glad to focus on her muscles, breath, pace, all physical and clear. Back home, she hurriedly made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She took it and an apple up to her room. She showered, pulled on a fresh tee and boxer shorts, and ate her dinner in bed while watching a gory mystery.
At some point in the evening, her father knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she called.
He peeked his head around the door. “Just checking to see if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Just unwinding from the past month. It’s such a pleasure to eat in bed and watch junk.”
“Good, then.” Her father started to shut the door.
“Dad?” she called.
He opened the door a bit. “Yes?”
“Are you okay, Daddy?”
Her father looked surprised. “Of course I am, Ari. Don’t worry about me. I think it’s just fine that you broke your engagement with Peter. Your mother will get over it. She’ll be okay.” With a smile, he withdrew, closing the door firmly.
Ari sighed and shook her head. She could never understand why her father loved his tempestuous, irritable wife, but it was reassuring each time she was reminded that he did. Her father was such a gentle man, a brilliant surgeon, although somehow vague during the rest of his life. Perhaps he saw so much misery and illness that the rest of life with all its difficulties and stresses seemed just fine to him. Certainly Alicia was beautiful, and she could be loving and fun. Maybe her mother was less stressed, more cheerful, when she was alone with her husband.
In a few days they would all go to Nantucket. Ari was looking forward to seeing her grandmother, but dreading the moment when her mother suggested Eleanor sell the bluff house.
Three
They were all coming. Her son, her daughter and son-in-law, her granddaughter. For a moment, Eleanor was breathless. Also, slightly unsettled. When the family was here for Christmas, Alicia constantly batted away at Eleanor like a cat with a toy mouse, trying to make Eleanor agree to sell the house.
This house.
Eleanor sat on the deck, watching the sun slowly rise. The sky faded from black to the palest silver, and along the horizon, a stripe of peach appeared, reflecting in the water, which was also awaking from the dark. Then the burst of brilliant light. It was always a splendid display, and different each time.
Eleanor usually rose early, usually pulled her L.L.Bean robe on over her nightgown, and went out to the porch to watch the day break. It took longer than you would think, as if the sun were being coy or having second thoughts. Eleanor curled up on a wicker chair and admired the lawn, now freshly green with spring, the low wall of privet hedge protecting her property from the walkers’ path, the wooden landing with steps leading down to the beach, the long luxurious beach itself, and then the blue ocean, forever.
It was in her will that when she died she was to be cremated and her ashes tossed into the sea. Not that she had plans for dying soon, but it was best to be prepared.
When she died, Ari would inherit this house. Not Alicia, not Cliff. She hoped Ari was strong enough to keep the house in the family.
As if conjured up by her thoughts, Eleanor’s phone buzzed, and the caller ID announced that it was her granddaughter.
“Darling, hello,” Eleanor said. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Gram. All done with college and exams—oh, and also all done with Peter. I broke our engagement.”
“Are you all right?”
“Better than all
