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The rowdy cousins cheer when the band switches to rock. Abby hands out earplugs to anyone in need. The little children chase each other up and down the lawn. Von has too much to drink and rambles on toasting the bride and groom. Lamb comes to his rescue but Patti leaves in a huff anyway, taking the two little girls with her. Dorset moves in for the kill. She's been eyeing him ever since the party last night.
Late in the afternoon, after the cake has been sliced, after the requisite pictures of bride feeding groom and groom feeding bride, the cousins carry Bru down to the pond and throw him in. When one of them picks up Caitlin and slings her over his shoulder she pounds on his back and cries, "Not in my wedding dress, a.s.shole a it's an antique!" He puts her down and she steps out of it, leaving it on the gra.s.sy bank above the pond. They throw her off the dock wearing just her long ivory slip. Bru catches her in the water. They kiss. He wades out of the pond with her in his arms, as if he's carrying her over the threshold. The photographer captures the moment.
"You're next, Victoria," another of the cousins says, sweeping her up and tossing her in from the end of the dock. Then they all jump in, one after the other, the cousins, their wives and girlfriends, most of the young guests and some of the not so young, all in their finery. But not Sharkey, who has taken Wren out in the dinghy, and not Daniel or Gus, who wait for Vix to emerge. "You can't stay in all day," Gus calls, laughing.
She feels awkward and self-conscious, like an unwilling contestant in a wet T-s.h.i.+rt contest. When she finally comes out, her arms folded across her chest, Gus wraps a beach towel around her. "You always were on the shy side, Cough Drop."
"Are you going to keep calling me Cough Drop?"
"What should I call you?"
"How about Vix?"
"Vix a" he says, trying it out.
Upstairs, Caitlin hands her a pair of shorts and a T-s.h.i.+rt so she can get out of her wet clothes. Caitlin has already changed into jeans. She's zipping up her backpack, preparing to leave for her honeymoon, a camping trip to Maine. "Thanks, Vix a for being here with me." She looks up at the photo of the two of them at twelve. "Who says a picture isn't worth a hundred words?"
"Thousand," Vix says. "I think it's a thousand words."
Caitlin laughs. "We were a great team, weren't we?"
"Yes."
Caitlin hugs her. "I'll always love you. Promise you'll always love me?"
"You know I will." And it's true, Vix thinks, no matter what, she'll always love Caitlin.
Caitlin hoists on her backpack. "Did you ask Bru a about that summer?"
"Yes," she lies.
Caitlin nods. "Did he tell you the truth?"
"Yes." Another lie.
She nods again. "I figured he would."
45.
THE FOLLOWING MAY Caitlin gives birth to a baby girl. They name her Somers Mayhew Brudegher but they call her Maizie. Vix drives up for the naming ceremony with Gus, who's moved to New York to write for Newsweek. They've been seeing each other since the wedding, going to movies, sharing late dinners, blading on Sundays in the park. They're friends, but neither one has been willing to risk spoiling things by changing the relations.h.i.+p.
One night, coming out of a movie in the Village, they're caught in a downpour. There's not a taxi in sight. They're closer to his place on Tenth Street than hers on Twenty-sixth so they run for it. They're drenched by then so he hands her a towel, a sweats.h.i.+rt, jogging pants. She takes off her clothes in the bathroom, and is about to pull on the sweats.h.i.+rt when she spies a robe hanging on the back of the door. She wishes it were silk instead of flannel as she pulls it on, tying the belt around her waist and rolling up the sleeves. She runs a comb through her wet hair, then rummages around in her purse for that sample of Obsession she's been saving. She dabs some between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, behind her ears and knees, which are beginning to shake. She hears John Coltrane playing on the CD.
Gus has changed into a T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans. At first he's not sure what she has in mind. She can see his confusion and smiles. His eyes go to the opening of the robe. He turns away. "Don't do this unless you're sure, Vix."
"I could say the same to you."
"I've never been so sure about anything in my whole life."
The attraction between them is so strong she's sure there will actually be sparks when he touches her.
A year later they gather on the Vineyard for Maizie's first birthday. Caitlin is distant, distracted. Bru is careful and protective. When Maizie cries, Abby is the one who picks her up and comforts her.
The next day Vix flies to Florida with Gus, to see Tawny. They haven't seen each other in years. But Tawny has called, asking her to come. There's someone she wants Vix to meet. And Vix has news for her, too.
In Key West Tawny watches shopping channels. She says she likes to dream she has the money to buy everything she sees, though she knows most of it is junk and she wouldn't want it even if she could have it. Everyone has fantasies, Vix supposes. Tawny seems relaxed, even happy. She lives in Old Town, in a tiny yellow conch house with a jacaranda tree shading the veranda. She can walk to the ocean every day if she wants to. The someone she wants Vix to meet is Myles, a beefy, suntanned man in a captain's hat. Vix isn't sure if Myles is his first name or last. "He's retired navy," Tawny says proudly. "With a good pension." She shows Vix a photo of him in full uniform. "He was das.h.i.+ng, wasn't he? Of course this was taken a while ago but you can still see it."
Vix knows it's important for her to agree with Tawny. So she says, "Yes a I can still see it."
Myles spends his days tooling around in a small wooden boat. Tawny still works for the Countess, who lives a block away in a pink eyebrow house on Francis Street. She's tethered to an oxygen tank. She can hardly take half a dozen steps without it. Tawny supervises the round-the-clock caregivers. The Countess is partial to handsome young men. And they adore her.
Tawny tells Vix the Countess is leaving most of her money to animal rights, but there will be a small trust set up for her. "I won't be rich but I don't need much living down here and I intend to stay, even after the Countess a is no longer with us. This way your father can have his savings for himself and Frankie. So if all goes well, you won't have to worry about taking care of us when we're old. At least we can do that much for you."
Vix is stunned. She'd a.s.sumed Tawny had just written them off.
Tawny THERE, SHE'S DONE IT. She's been practicing for a week and she's finally told Victoria she's a good daughter and deserves only the best. Well, maybe not in so many words but she's sure Victoria got the message. Nice young man. She hopes they'll be happy. Just don't expect anything from her. She's already given everything she has.
TAWNY LIKES GUS. Everybody does. Vix feels incredibly lucky. True, he can make her crazy sometimes but his sense of humor saves them every time. He knows just how to make her laugh. She feels comfortable, yet deliciously s.e.xy with him. They're not afraid to play. Once he suggested she straddle him in the bathtub. Bite my neck a he'd whispered, pull my hair a Another time, while they were driving on a country road, she'd smelled peonies and felt so h.o.r.n.y she'd unzipped his fly and reached inside his pants. He'd pulled off the road and they'd made love in the car, with the pa.s.senger door thrown open and her head hanging down. When she's nestled in his arms she knows the others were just practice. This is for real. There's no way she'll ever be bored with him. She won't let him grow bored with her.
When she takes him to meet the Countess they're greeted by one old dog who sniffs Gus but doesn't even bother with Vix. The Countess pats her bed and tells Gus, "Sit here and let me look at you." He sits beside her. She holds his hands and gazes into his eyes. Finally, she nods and says, "Love's a hard game to play, my darlings. Play it well."
"Stevie Nicks," Vix says.
"Who?" the Countess asks.
"It's the t.i.tle of a song I used to like."
"Stevie knew what he was talking about."
Vix doesn't tell the Countess Stevie is a she. She kisses the Countess on her cheek. The skin feels paper-thin against her lips.
They've decided to marry in September, the best month on the Vineyard. It will be a small wedding at Abby's and Lamb's, just familya"her father and Frankie, Gus's parents, his brother and sister-in-law, his sister and her boyfrienda"and a few close friends. Maia and Paisley joke that maybe one or the other will fall for Daniel. Vix tells them not to count on it.
They'll be married in the garden by a judge from Boston, the same one who married Abby and Lamb fifteen years ago.
A week after Maizie's first birthday, about the same time Vix and Gus are returning from Key West, Caitlin takes the ferry to Woods Hole, drives to Cambridge with Maizie, and asks Abby and Lamb to watch her for the day while she does some shopping. She calls at six to ask if they can keep Maizie overnight. She's run into an old friend and they'd like to have dinner together. She doesn't add that dinner will be on a plane en route to Paris. But when she next calls that's where she is. She promises to return in a week, two at the most. Two weeks turns into two months, two months into two years.
Bru HE SHOULD HAVE seen it coming. Maybe he just didn't want to. Maybe that was it. That would be like him. Ignore all the signs. But something was wrong from the start. As soon as the wedding was over she changed. He figured it was the pregnancy. Too soon, maybe. And sick every day. But he knew she'd love being a mother. Babies. That's what they all wanted. His cousins complained that once there was a baby around forget it a no more s.e.x.
Problem was, she was never like other women. Didn't take to motherhood. Something unnatural about that. And the s.e.x thing a she still wanted it. Even more than before. Every day, sometimes twice a day. But taking care of a baby at night wiped him out. Not that she noticed. Honey, f.u.c.k me a f.u.c.k me, hard. Hurt me, honey a What did that mean? It wasn't right. They were married. She was a mother. He didn't like it when she talked that way. Especially the hurt me part. He'd never wanted to hurt her. Never wanted to hurt any woman.
What do you want? he'd asked her.
It's not what I want, it's what I need.
What a what do you need?
A lot of loving.
I don't give you a lot of loving?
She smiled at him, a come-on. You do, honey a you give me a lot of loving.
Then what? What are you asking for?
Everything.
You've got everything.
She gave him a sad smile.
You need vitamins, he told her. Vitamins with minerals. She laughed.
He didn't care. And you need to get out of the house more. A job maybe a I have a job. I'm your wife. I'm Maizie's mother.
Trisha SHE SHOULD HAVE spent more time with Caitlin after Maizie was born but she was so busy building her dream house with Arthur. Lamb was right. As soon as he'd set her free her life turned around. Of course, if Lamb had chosen her over Phoebe way back when, if she'd had his children, none of this would have happened. But what's the point in going on about that now?
Bru looks dazed. The way he looked in church on his wedding day. But did he have to start up with Star again a and so soon? As if Caitlin hadn't happened, as if Maizie hadn't?
It's all getting to be too much for her a Lamb and his family. But Maizie is so sweet. She'd love to have a baby with Arthur. Is it too late? Maybe they can adopt. Suppose Caitlin had left Maizie with them?
EVERYONE a.s.sUMES VIX knows more than she's saying, that Caitlin still confides in her. She can tell they don't really believe it when she swears she doesn't have a clue. She's in shock like the rest of them. But at least they know Caitlin is more or less okay. Lamb hired a detective who tracked her down in Barcelona. She signed divorce papers so Bru is free to marry Star, who's seven months pregnant. He didn't waste any time. Vix hates him for that.
How ironic that Caitlin chose to leave her baby with Abby. Or maybe it's what she always wanted for herself a"to live with Lamb and Abby, to have a real sense of familya"but out of some kind of loyalty to Phoebe she felt she couldn't.
Whenever they visit the Vineyard she and Gus stay in Caitlin's room. Across the hall, in the room the Chicago Boys once shared, is the nursery, where Maizie sleeps clutching a pink pig.
Phoebe FRANKLY, SHE CAN'T BELIEVE IT. Not that she'd expected the marriage to work. She'd always known it was just another of Caity's games. But Maizie. For G.o.d's sake! Even she didn't abandon her children. And leaving her with Lamb and Abby. What kind of statement was that?
Oh, please a don't tell her Caity wasn't well loved! Don't give her simplistic explanations. While she might not have been the most nurturing parent in the history of the universe, she was there, for crissakes! And Caity knew Lamb adored her. No, it's something else. Some flaw. She wishes she could put her finger on it. Vix must know but she's not talking.
She'll try to see Caity this summer. She's already changed her plans to include Barcelona. Barcelona of all places. Why not Venice or Paris?
Lamb HE LIVES WITH A terrible feeling in his gut twenty-four hours a day. He gobbles Maalox tablets by the handful. He cries at the drop of a hat. He can't understand what's happened.
Abby is careful not to blame him, not to blame anyone. Phoebe calls it wanderl.u.s.t. Some people are born with it, she tells him. Whatever it is, he's not sure he can bear it.
She refused to see him in Barcelona. Sent a messenger to his hotel with the name and address of a lawyer in New York instead. Refused to see him! His precious daughter. How can he help her if she won't let him? He'll forgive her anything. He just wants her to come home. Come home, Caitlin, and be a mother to your baby!
Sharkey What did they expect?
Abby SHE THINKS OF Grandmother Somers in her forties, taking in Dorset and Lamb. She's past fifty, menopausal, but feels young, younger than she has in years. And more relaxed. Maybe it's the hormones. Maybe it's Maizie.
It's as if she and Lamb have changed places. He's the anxious one now, carrying around a baby monitor, checking on Maizie three or four times during the night. Sometimes she'll find him standing over Maizie's crib, watching her breathe, tears streaming down his face.
He's listening to the Beatles again, for the first time since John Lennon was killed. She tries to rea.s.sure him. Maizie will be fine. She'll grow up strong and confident, surrounded by loving adults, with cousins and step-siblings for company. They'll set limits, guide her, teach her to be responsible. But the way he looks at her when she talks about Maizie's future breaks her heart.
She dreads the day Caitlin comes waltzing back into their lives, expecting to take Maizie away with her. Even though Caitlin has signed the papers relinquis.h.i.+ng all rightsa"giving her and Lamb physical custody, while they share legal custody with Brua"she knows biological mothers have an edge in court. But she won't give up Maizie easily!
Well, Abby a her own mother says, you've finally got your little girl.
46.
JUST BEFORE HER thirtieth birthday Vix receives an airline ticket in the mail, a ticket to Milan with train connections to Venice, along with a note: Celebrate the Big Three-O With Me!
Vix is beside herself. Gus asks, "Do you want to see her?"
She's almost six months pregnant with their first child. She can't decide what to do. Can she ever forgive Caitlin for leaving Maizie? "I don't know," she says. "Maybe. I think so. Yes."
"If the doctor says it's okay," he says, kissing her neck, "it's okay with me. I'm not worried you won't come back."
In Venice, Caitlin meets her at the train station. Caitlin is all in white, her hair tucked inside a wide-brimmed straw hat. She's wearing huge designer shades and is carrying a second hat for Vix, who's boiling in a blue denim maternity dress. The conductor helps her off the train with her bag. "G.o.d, Vix a" Caitlin says, hugging her, "you look so a" Vix expects her to say grownup but instead she says, pregnant. They both laugh.
Caitlin plunks the straw hat on Vix's head and carries her bag to a waiting boat that whisks them to the Gritti Palace, on the Grand Ca.n.a.l.
Their room, overlooking the ca.n.a.l, is huge and the bed linens are actually made of linen. They have two bathrooms, one for each of them. The floor is stone and helps to keep the room cool. Everything is clean, spare, yet unbelievably luxurious. It could be years before she and Gus can afford such a trip, if ever. She gets pangs thinking of him in New York, going to work every day, while she is here in the most romantic city in the world.
Caitlin's Italian sounds like the real thing. Everyone she speaks to responds not as if she's some American tourist but as if she's a native, a northern Italian blonde. Forget bare dirty feet, forget the Dingleberry Award. This Caitlin is elegant. Heads turn to follow her.
She sets up rules. "I get to ask questions, you don't." Vix nods. If that's the way she wants it. Besides, she's always learned more by just listening. Caitlin wants to hear about her life, about her marriage, her work. Vix waits for her to ask about Maizie.
They venture out only in the morning and again at night. She discovers the Italians love pregnant women. No one can do enough for her, including Caitlin, who acts as her private tour guide. They take gondolas the way Paisley takes cabs in New York. They do the cathedrals, the ancient Jewish sector, the Peggy Guggenheim museum, where Caitlin snaps a photo of Vix atop the statue of a well-hung donkey. Caitlin even takes her across the ca.n.a.l by private boat to swim at the Hotel Cipriani, where she knows the manager. At night they meander down narrow cobblestone alleyways to tiny restaurants that should be impossible to find, where they eat freshly prepared fish and delicious pastas.
In the afternoons they close the old wooden shutters in their room and take a long siesta. One day Vix awakens to find Caitlin sitting beside her. "What?" she asks.
Caitlin smiles. "You." She rests her hand on Vix's belly. "This."
"I love being pregnant," Vix says.
"Tell me about Maizie," Caitlin says softly.
"She's wonderful a sweet, bright a"