Tyrone listened with a grimace of disgust. ‘They do create messes over there. You would muck around with the son. Such people are fine for a while in their own setting, but then chaos breaks through.’
She was stung to defend Jimmy. ‘He’s not like his mother at all. He’s very controlled. I wish you would pay some attention to who he is.’
‘He does decent carpentry. I brought Sampson by to look at the building this week, and they seem to have repaired the structure quite adequately. Sampson by the way remarked that it would condoize well.’
‘We talked about an apartment upstairs.’ It felt serene here, as if the air were cleaner and lighter. ‘What are you doing for dinner tonight?’ Celeste was off Sundays.
Tyrone glanced at Sally. She responded, ‘I made a reservation for you at the Tee and Surf Club. You promised Mr Sampson you would play snooker with him first.’
‘Why not dine with us?’ Tyrone asked. ‘You don’t want to go across the pond till things have returned to what passes for normal over there.’
On his desk in the basket where notices of shows, of auctions, where catalogues of exhibitions were placed for him to browse through, she saw the little catalogue for Johnny’s show in Rochester. ‘Don’t buy one of her paintings, Dad. She’s always been rude to me. And she’s the one who just had to tell Susan what everyone knew all summer but had the sense to keep quiet.’
He took the catalogue, neatly ripped it in two and tossed it into the wastebasket. ‘Enough said. Why don’t you dress? We should be ready to push off about six.’
That night she did not get back until close to eleven, and Jimmy spent the night across the pond. Monday she elected to go along with Tyrone on Mr Sampson’s boat. She had not been sailing all summer, except for the little toy she had bought Tyrone that they played with on the pond. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed handling a nice craft. She had a good time and even flirted with the Sampsons’ son, Bob, although she knew he was gay and he knew she knew. It made them a club of two, who understood what his parents did not and Tyrone had not guessed. They bonded quietly apart from their parents, gossiping pleasantly about acquaintances. Bob did not seem to remember her scandal, and she tasted a little nostalgia for New York. When Jimmy arrived as she was taking a shower, she felt almost surprised.
‘I packed Johnny off early this morning. I didn’t want her to see Susan again. I didn’t think any good could come of that. Dad’s sleeping on the couch at home. Both he and I thought it would be disastrous if he stayed at Dinah’s.’ Jimmy sat on her bed yoga fashion with his bare feet drawn up.
‘Do you know how to sail? I went out on a nice little yacht today.’
‘Sure I know. Didn’t I grow up here?’ He looked pensive, but said nothing more about his family, which she thought extremely tactful. He did ask her, ‘Who’s this Sampson fellow? Tyrone has brought him by the gallery twice. Does he have an interest in it?’
‘Not that I know. He and Daddy had some investment together. He owns a bunch of condos here.’ She told him that Bob Sampson was gay, so he would not be jealous of her day. They had a fast supper at the Lobster Tent and then took in a movie. By morning she had pushed aside her fears that through him she would be sucked into the whirlpool of his out-of-control family.
Tuesday afternoon she saw Susan walking the path toward the big house. Her impulse was to hide. Tyrone had disappeared into the woods at a brisk clip half an hour before. Dr MacIvor was back in the city. She did not care to discuss Tyrone’s minor activities, but she was always aware. She knew that Tyrone had had a falling out with the Contessa Sforzi, was bored with Betty Gore and had become involved with Candida. Candida was eager to please Laurie nowadays and would agree with almost anything she said. Laurie was no longer at all intimidated. She was only a little worried, as Tyrone rarely got involved in anything clandestine. The married women he had taken up with were separated or had arrangements. Candida was exactly Tyrone’s type – she really did resemble Janette – and she was available and convenient. Almost the way Laurie had become involved with Jimmy, except he was getting divorced.
She peeked through the window, keeping well back, and saw Sally greet Susan and then manage to dispose of her. Susan stood on the wide verandah looking toward the boathouse, obviously trying to decide whether to visit her. Laurie locked herself in the bathroom, where she could not be seen through a window. She crouched there as she heard Susan’s voice outside and her soft tap on the screen door. She heard the door opening. She held her breath, afraid Susan would come in. But she did not. Laurie heard the door shut.
When Laurie dared creep out of the bathroom to peek through her loft window from the bedroom, she could see Susan plodding slowly back around the pond toward her own house. She sighed in relief. Sally had no doubt covered for them all. She felt once again the’ power of Tyrone cradling her around. Even when he was absent, those he had hired and trained, those who were absolutely loyal to him, like Sally, like Donald, filled in perfectly. She had learned in childhood that perhaps she could not always get what she wanted, but she could always get out of what she did not want. Perhaps in the long view, that was more important.
Chapter Forty-One
SUSAN
Susan felt broken and yet energized. A web of lies spun fine enough to be invisible had trapped her in place. Everyone about her conspired to keep her ignorant; thus she had questioned her own perceptions, her own instincts. Now at the cost of tremendous pain, as if she had been gutted quickly with a razor, she was free at last of hesitation and doubt.
Her marriage was over. Every part of it had collapsed at once, like an old shack hit by a tree. Willie had deceived her, Willie whom she had trusted, whom she had thought she knew as intimately as her own face, Willie had lied to her, not once, not twice, but daily, nightly, all of the time for months. In her heart she had sensed her marriage was over, yet she had doubted her own feelings. She had been weak and sentimental, unwilling to credit what she instinctively knew.
He was sleeping across the hall in Jimmy’s room, for she could not stand the two of them sharing a bed. She had been waking exceptionally early. At dawn she lay contemplating the wrinkles of her life in the ripples of light on the ceiling, reflections off the pond that caught on the old uneven plaster. She tossed, gnashing her teeth, weeping, utterly desolate. Finally she would reach the point where she must get out of bed because she could not endure her thoughts any longer. This morning she boiled over at eight, much earlier than she had used to rise, back when she had been blind.
When she came downstairs, he was in the kitchen sitting over an empty cup.
‘I don’t understand why you don’t simply move next door.’ She crossed her arms over her closed bathrobe. ‘You’d be more comfortable with your lover. I’d avoid tripping over you.’
‘You know you can’t sleep when you’re in the house alone, Susan.’
‘Why, how kind of you to think of me. How extraordinarily kind to fuck and then run back over here. Well, I no longer sleep anyhow, so you may stay over there as far as I’m concerned.’ She would not look at him. She did not care how hangdog he made himself look, she took pleasure in addressing a shelf over his head.
‘Susan, don’t cut yourself off from me. Don’t destroy everything –’
‘You dare say that to me? After what you’ve done?’
‘Dinah won’t speak to me either. She says it’s my fault for not telling you. I wanted to talk to you, Susan, but I didn’t want you to get angry –’
‘If you don’t get out of the kitchen, I’ll do without breakfast and lock myself in my room.’
‘Susan, this has been going on for three days! We have to talk. We have to sit down together … Maybe we should go to a marriage counsellor. Burt says there’s a good therapist named Amy Roget –’
‘Who else have you told in town? Are you proud of what’s going on?’
‘You won’t talk to me. Dinah won’t talk to me –’
‘I’m leaving the
kitchen. When I know you’re out of the house, I may come down again.’ She swept out and locked herself in the bathroom. She turned on the water, tossed in bubble bath. She would deny herself no small luxuries. She regretted flouncing out of the kitchen, for she had far, far more to say to him. The best solution to the current situation was to have Willie move next door and Jimmy move back. She did not want to be in the house alone, certainly not. Every little sound of the night would terrify her. Every racoon in the trash, every pine bough rubbing against a gutter would become a prowler. She had not seen Laurie around for a couple of days, so perhaps that was winding down.
She had forgiven Jimmy. He was right when he said he had not wanted to make trouble. With Willie lying to her, Jimmy had been in an impossible position. She prided herself on being just, as well as wronged. Jimmy had come out well, and so for that matter had Siobhan. Siobhan had told her the truth, and Susan had to be grateful. She tried to call Siobhan, but she got only the answering machine with what was supposed to be an amusing message. Aldo’s voice said, ‘We’re probably in bed or drunk, so we can’t come to the phone, but you can leave a message. If you’re lucky, we’ll even call you back.’
Although her first impulse had been to hang up, she had left a message. She did not know if Siobhan had gone straight back to Minneapolis or to some other destination. Susan must take advantage of the fact that Siobhan had cared enough to tell her the ugly truth. She would thank her. Susan would apologize for making a scene in the kitchen, explaining how upset she had been. It would represent a breakthrough between them, no thanks to Willie.
She was going to be clearheaded, she was going to be efficient in the pursuit of a decent life for herself. She ate a muffin with tea and called Mary Lou, who had a real estate licence. ‘Mary Lou, how are you?’ She planned to chat the obligatory five minutes about the weather, the tourist season, the traffic in town, the latest accident on the highway.
Mary Lou forestalled her. ‘Oh, Susan, I hope you’re all right. If you want to come over and talk to me about it all, I can kick the old man out this evening and send him to a movie.’
Were her troubles all over town? She felt her face heating in embarrassment. ‘Actually I was calling you in a professional capacity. I’d love it if you could drop by and formally appraise my house.’
‘Oh, Susan, you’re not thinking of that already, are you? Charlie and I went to a wonderful marriage counsellor.’
‘Amy Roget?’
‘Are you going to her too? Isn’t she wonderful?’
‘No, I’m not. Could you discuss selling the house, Mary Lou?’
‘Of course, Susan, and I’d be pleased to handle it for you.’ Mary Lou’s voice changed to her professional chirp. ‘We should be able to get a good price for a pond house. Would tomorrow at four be okay for you?’
As Susan made a note of the time on her calendar, she reflected that Amy Roget must know the secrets of every couple in town, but not hers. She did not seek reconciliation. She did not want to sit pretending to believe his excuses. She did not want to present herself in a therapist’s office to explain the wriggling mess of their relationships. She could not endure some young shrimp lecturing on the give-and-take of marriage and somehow twisting things around so that it was her fault Willie had ruined their lives.
She needed desperately to see Tyrone. She had called several times, but he was always out or on another line. Sally had the habit of protecting him from everyone, even from her, so she decided she would simply stroll over at five. If he was still working, she would have a seat and wait for him. She had plenty of time, after all. She had no house to clean, no supper to prepare, no social calendar to arrange. She had resigned. She couldn’t possibly concentrate on redoing the fabric designs until her life had settled into the semblance of a new order. She could work extremely fast when she had to, and obviously, she would have to. But first, she needed a lawyer, she needed plans. She needed Tyrone’s advice and help. She had seen him through three divorces. He could be considered an expert. She needed his help in the move to the city.
Had Tyrone also known about Dinah? She doubted it. Laurie would probably not have told him anything potentially scandalous about Jimmy’s family; it would be too stupid for her to do so. Tyrone had no contact with Dinah. Willie and Tyrone had been at odds all summer over petty details of the gallery project. Tyrone was the one person she was certain had been as ignorant as herself. She found that oddly comforting. Further, why would the MacIvors have known? They did not meet Dinah socially. So Willie had not polluted all her friendships. She still had room to manoeuvre, even here.
She felt detached and elegiac as she strolled along the shore. Soon she would leave. She would move to Manhattan and perhaps return only as Tyrone’s guest. It felt terribly sad, something once beautiful that had decayed. It was that time in August when everything was fraying, wearing out, showing dirt. The pond no longer held the pristine waters of June. Here and there plastic cartons lay on the shore. A little froth of pollution danced in the shallows. The leaves were beginning to dull into brown. An occasional bright leaf of rum cherry or poison ivy predicted the fall. The grass had faded to straw. Only a few mummies marked the blueberry and blackberry bushes.
Leaving a marriage, even one that had so signally fallen to pieces, was departing from a large part of herself. She walked more slowly. The heat felt woollen, oppressive. Usually close to the ocean some breeze stirred, but this afternoon the air was thick as the stuffing in a pillow. She had come to Willie ripe but oh so young. Why had she married him? He had been the wrong choice, but she had been stubborn at top volume, ignoring her family’s protests as knee-jerk anti-Protestantism. Now she wondered if they had not seen in him something that had disturbed them, if they had not anticipated her disillusion, her pain.
He was not a brilliant man, as for instance Tyrone was. She had always felt he was not quite as bright as she was, but for a long time she had not minded. Now she minded. What he had done was so egregiously stupid, she found its clumsiness as obnoxious as the infidelity itself. What kind of nincompoop would tell himself that he could be putting it to the woman next door, and his wife would not notice? A man with even minimal sense, who felt compelled by midlife crisis to have an affair, would have conducted it in some discreet way so that half the world wouldn’t gossip about it.
Nor was he immensely talented. Tyrone had never bought a piece of his. Willie maundered along stuck in a time warp making ugly cages and wire monstrosities festooned with newsprint, a kind of naive pottering, as if everybody didn’t know art wasn’t supposed to be political any more than dress fabric was. In short, he was no bargain. He had no more ability to earn money than she did. He had been an excellent father to the children, she would give him that, which was perhaps why their marriage had endured as long as it had. He was good with children and animals, great, but she was neither a dog nor a four-year-old. He was no good to her.
She wanted to be scrupulously fair. They should sell the house and divide the money. She would take her half and go to New York and he might do as he pleased, Probably he would move in with Dinah. After all, Dinah was enlarging her house. She had a moment of deep suspicion that Dinah was still intending to have a baby, that all this was to get a baby out of Willie. She would be furious if Dinah was pregnant. Was there a chance? No, Dinah was just getting back at her by fooling around with Willie.
The children could not reasonably object to her plans. Jimmy would soon return to Seattle or settle locally. If he continued with Laurie, she had a trust fund; if not, then he would save enough working in the building trades to buy land. He could build far more cheaply than other people, the same way he and Willie were handling these additions, by general contracting and doing the carpentry. It wasn’t as if she were selling the house from under her children. Jimmy had moved out. Siobhan might as readily visit her in New York as here. Although she had never been able to take their rooms from them, now that she was selling the house, she felt less sentim
ental. Everything in her mind seemed clearer, she thought, harder.
As she walked through the hedge of old lilacs onto the lawn of the big house, she felt she was coming to Tyrone today as an equal, someone alone, in control of her life. As sensitive as he always was, he had to observe the changes in her. It was five-thirty, giving her confidence that he would be detaching connector by connector from the elaborate harness of his days, preparing for his before-dinner cocktail and relaxation ritual. Smiling calmly, walking slowly to emphasize her control, her serenity, she strolled onto the verandah of the big house, going directly to the French windows into the livingroom, knocking lightly and then walking in like any other expected guest.
Sally came rustling to meet her, looking slightly alarmed. ‘Mrs Dewitt, is he expecting you?’
‘No more than usual, I’m sure. How are you, Sally? You look well tanned and healthy.’
‘Thank you. I’ll tell him you’re waiting.’
But Tyrone came to the door of his office. ‘Ah, Susan. I was just knocking off. Do have a seat and Celeste will bring you a martini. I’ll join you momentarily.’ He motioned her onto the verandah. Celeste appeared shortly. Susan sipped her very cold martini and stared at the pond with an odd, light detachment. This was the place she had lived for the last eighteen years. Now she was preparing to leave it. Emotionally she felt distant already. This was a place with which she was almost finished.
Tyrone strode out. Instead of sitting beside her, he leaned against the railing facing her, looking into her face. ‘How are you bearing up?’
‘Surprisingly well. I suppose subliminally I knew things were very bad. I was shocked when I learned he had been deceiving me, but I knew all along that something was radically wrong.’
‘Just so you can talk it out. I know I’m a poor one to give advice, with my broken marriages behind me, but you and Willie have been together far longer than I managed with any of my wives.’