TwoSundays later, there is an afternoon party at Eight Chimneys, to inaugurate the Eight Chimneys Foundation, which MarieThorne has set up as a first step in turning the old house into an official NewYork State Historical Site.Despite Susan Richmond’s antagonism to the proj-ect—she can’t bear the thought ofticket-holding strangers traipsing around her property, and she also knows that the entire scheme has cre-ated a little dome ofprivacy, a secret spot in which Ferguson and Marie can carry on their repulsive flirtation—leaving the planning ofthe party itselfto Ferguson and Marie is beyond her powers offorbearance.Fergu-son is as domestic as Buffalo Bill, and Marie’s ideas for the party are pa-thetic, culled from some grotesque guide to“elegant living”—caterers cooking and serving hot appetizers, expensive booze, chamber musicians from Marlowe College, vases filled with Casablanca lilies.Marie, despite having been born and raised on the property, seems to have no idea that such froufrou touches have no place at Eight Chimneys, where one en-tertains simply and cheaply.Susan feels that ostentation is the province of the middle class, who always seem to be saying“Look what we have!”
whereas at Eight Chimneys one likes to behave in such a way that implies
”We’ve all had enough chamber music and porcini tarts, and the long, tiresome trek through the gardens ofplenty has led us to believe it’s a hell ofa lot more fun to fill up a few bowls with potato chips, get store-brand sodas at the Price Chopper, jeroboams ofcheap wine, and not make such a big deal out ofeverything.”Susan cannot resist a chance to express her own artistic talents, and on each ofthe ninety invitations sent out she cre-ates a tiny watercolor, usually just a few wavy blue lines to symbolize the river, but sometimes a finely wrought chimney, or a cow.
The invitation in Kate’s hand has been personalized with the wavy blue lines.Beneath the times ofthe party, from2:00to4:00p.m.,there is a line that readsdonation: twenty-five dollars per person.On Daniel and Kate’s invitation, Susan has drawn a circle around the amount, with a line running offthe circle that leads to the messageno exceptions!Kate has been going on about the boorishness ofthis re-minder since its arrival onTuesday, and now, sitting at her dressing table, putting on her lipstick, with the invitation propped up against the mir-ror, she suddenly sees Daniel in the glass and begins again.
“Does Susan Richmond really think we’re going to try and sneak in without paying?”she asks.She doesn’t turn to face him but watches his reflection in the mirror.His hair is still wet from the shower;his eyes are dark and startled in the middle ofhis scrubbed face.He has lately be-come meticulous about his grooming, as he has with every other detail ofdomestic life, from getting up with Ruby every morning and making breakfast for the family, to the dutiful little good-night kisses he places on Kate’s cheek at night.He is like a British officer in captivity, keeping up his own morale with close shaves and crisp salutes.
“I’m sure it’s a joke,”he says.He checks the time.“You look very nice.”Which is his way ofsaying,“Hurry up, it’s time to leave.”
“I’ve started a new novel,”she suddenly announces.
“That’s good.It’s great.I’m really glad.”
“You are?”
“Ofcourse I am.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see.But it does seem that connubial bliss was interfering with my creativity.Ever since… youknow, the big confession, I’ve really felt inspired.And this book—well, I don’t even want to talk about it.I don’t want to jinx it.It could all disappear.I could spend the rest ofmy life just writing articles.”
“I’m really glad,”Daniel says.“Are you almost ready?”
“Ruby?”she asks, still gazing at him in the mirror.
”I think she’s all set.I’ll go check.”
Except for not loving Kate, Daniel has been a model partner since his confession in the hotel room two weeks ago.No socks on the floor, im-peccable table manners, he has even purchased over the Internet some spray he squirts on the back ofhis throat at night, which has virtually eliminated his snoring.The respect he shows for her sleep is boundless.
Not only has the snoring stopped, but he no longer tugs at the blanket, and when he rolls over nothing ofhim so much as grazes her, she cannot even feel his breathing, he has less presence than the dead, and in the mornings he is quieter than the rising sun when he slips out ofbed to mind Ruby and get her offto school.Yet he is not entirely cold, not like someone who is furious, or who wishes to punish you.Ifshe rolls next to him in bed, he is accepting.Ifshe presses herselfagainst him he gathers her in.Ifshe kisses him, he kisses her back.Ifshe wants to fuck, he fucks.
He is entirely at her disposal.Her every wish, it seems, is…no, not his command, but his opportunity to commit some further act ofpenance.
”Got me one ofdem penitent boyfriends,”Kate said to Lorraine over the telephone the other day.“Dem’s the best kind,”answered Lorraine.
Daniel finds Ruby in her room, brushing the bright-yellow hair ofa chubby-faced doll with a pug nose, a prissy mouth, and blue, unforgiv-ing eyes.Neither Daniel nor Kate would have bought such a toy for Ruby—they would rather supply her with little cars, plastic horses, building blocks, books—but she’d fallen under the doll’s spell at day care and the teachers let her take it home.“Are you about ready, Monkey?”
Daniel asks.He feels so guilty around Ruby that he has made his voice overly cheerful.
“I want to play with Ginkie,”Ruby says.She turns the doll around on her lap, gazes into its bright blue eyes.
“You can bring Ginkie with you, ifyou want.”
“No.She can’t go out.”Ruby has long contended that the doll is afraid to leave the house—it seems part ofa strategy to make certain that it never gets returned to the day care center.
“It’s going to be fun,”says Daniel.“And besides, there’s not going to be any grown-ups home, so you have to come along.”
“What about Mercy?”
“She’s busy.”
“Is she going to be at the party?”
“You never know.”
“Can I really take Ginkie?”
Daniel picks Ruby up, notches her onto his hip.The weight ofher balances him, somehow damps down the anxiety.
The three ofthem drive to the party, through a mild November afternoon.The sun is high and hazy in the pale- blue sky, it looks like a little stain on a shirt.The wreckage oflast month’s storm is still everywhere in evidence— collapsed old barns, fallen trees, heartbreaking wreaths on the side ofthe road where people lost their lives.
He drives slowly, not wanting to telegraph how anxious he is to arriveat the party.Kate, who since beginning her novel has taken up smok-ing again, lights a cigarette and cracks the window to let out the smoke.
“Don’t smoke!”Ruby cries out, the way they all do in unison at her day care center, duringAwarenessTraining, when the kids are introduced to all God’s dangers:
Kate rolls her eyes, inviting Daniel to share her exasperation, but at the same time she reaches behind her and gives Ruby’s knee a humorous little squeeze.
“Are there going to be other kids at the party?”Ruby asks.
After a briefsilence, Daniel answers.“I don’t really know for sure.I imagine so.”
“I want Nelson to be there,”Ruby says.“Was he invited?”
“I don’t know who was invited,”Daniel says.He feels Kate’s eyes on him, and his voice wavers.
“Oh, I certainly hope Nelson is there,”Kate says, taking one last drag ofher cigarette and then tossing it out the window.“With his lovely par-ents.That would make everything special.”
“He’s nice,”Ruby says, stretching her arms and legs.The child seat seems suddenly a size too small for her.
“Oh, he’s fantastic,”Kate says.“The whole family.”
