you.”
“At least you’ll get to meet her and my precious grandchild.”
“Oh, Caroline.”
“Now, tell me about your husband and those boys of yours.”
For fifteen minutes, Maggie regaled Caroline with happy stories about her family, leaving out the most recent strain.
“You could come and watch Brian play baseball. And we have a video of Jamie’s performance in Brigadoon .”
“No, Mags. I need a bit more emotional equilibrium before I churn up my past.” A long hesitation. “I’m still trying to cope with Derek’s death.”
Caroline went on to tell Maggie about her husband, Derek Dean, finally divulging her last name. Derek was the younger brother of Caroline’s boss and a partner at the architectural firm where she went to work right after graduation from high school. He’d been separated from his wife—no kids. He and Caroline had met, fallen in love, and after he divorced and they married, they moved to Colorado, intentionally far away from the Lorenzos. He’d died at seventy-three of a heart attack.
“We can e-mail and talk, though,” Caroline offered. “But don’t tell Sara or Jimmy yet.”
No mention of their mother. Caroline and Derek had stayed in touch with Derek’s brother, so Caroline knew their father had died in his sleep ten years ago and that their mother was still alive. In his eighties and retired, the brother was the one who’d kept the Deans apprised of the rest of her family situation.
“Phone calls and e-mails will be great,” Maggie conceded. “Send pictures, too.”
“I’ll do that tonight. I’m so glad to be in touch with you, sweetie. So glad. See you soon, sis.”
Not soon enough, Maggie thought as she thumbed the off button, but she’d already pushed too much. She was going to take this gift on her sister’s terms and, as she said, not try to control what happened with it. Maggie began the hike toward home, vowing to appreciate the good in her life and not mope about the issues her immediate family was dealing with.
But as she walked, memories she’d kept at bay intruded. One in particular, the night that Caroline left…
Her parents were in the front room of their house in Cornwall watching All in the Family when the show was preempted by a news bulletin about the Vietnam War. At eight, Maggie hadn’t been sure what war was about, but recalled distinctly her father’s disgruntlement at the interruption.
Caroline walked into the room. Her sister was so pretty, so kind, that Maggie always smiled at the sight of her. She ruffled Maggie’s hair, then sat down on a chair in the corner where she could see both their parents. “Ma, Dad, I gotta talk to you.”
“Be quick about it,” her mother said. “Archie’ll be back on soon.”
“Mags,” Caroline told her, “go check on Jimmy.” Their one-year-old brother.
“He’s sleeping, Caro.”
“Go anyway, sweetie. I need to talk to Ma and Dad alone.”
Maggie had left the room, but instead of heading upstairs, she stood by the doorway out of sight and listened.
“What’s the matter?” their mother asked. Maggie heard the sound of a match being lit, smelled the familiar, awful scent of the Chesterfields her parents smoked.
“I’m…I…”
“What, Caroline Anne?” Maggie’s father’s deep voice rumbled from the couch. He worked odd hours at the Glass Works, and when he was home, he wanted peace and quiet. Mostly, he wasn’t there, though. He spent nearly all his free time gambling at the race track or playing cards until the early hours of the morning.
“I’m getting married,” Caroline said simply.
Silence. Then, her mother shouted, “Jesus Christ, are you pregnant?”
“No.”
“You don’t even have a boyfriend,” her father put in.
“I do.”
“Why don’t we know about this?” Her mother’s tone made Maggie afraid. “You know you aren’t allowed to go out with anybody unless he comes here and we meet him.”
“I-I was afraid to tell you.”
“Who is
“At least you’ll get to meet her and my precious grandchild.”
“Oh, Caroline.”
“Now, tell me about your husband and those boys of yours.”
For fifteen minutes, Maggie regaled Caroline with happy stories about her family, leaving out the most recent strain.
“You could come and watch Brian play baseball. And we have a video of Jamie’s performance in Brigadoon .”
“No, Mags. I need a bit more emotional equilibrium before I churn up my past.” A long hesitation. “I’m still trying to cope with Derek’s death.”
Caroline went on to tell Maggie about her husband, Derek Dean, finally divulging her last name. Derek was the younger brother of Caroline’s boss and a partner at the architectural firm where she went to work right after graduation from high school. He’d been separated from his wife—no kids. He and Caroline had met, fallen in love, and after he divorced and they married, they moved to Colorado, intentionally far away from the Lorenzos. He’d died at seventy-three of a heart attack.
“We can e-mail and talk, though,” Caroline offered. “But don’t tell Sara or Jimmy yet.”
No mention of their mother. Caroline and Derek had stayed in touch with Derek’s brother, so Caroline knew their father had died in his sleep ten years ago and that their mother was still alive. In his eighties and retired, the brother was the one who’d kept the Deans apprised of the rest of her family situation.
“Phone calls and e-mails will be great,” Maggie conceded. “Send pictures, too.”
“I’ll do that tonight. I’m so glad to be in touch with you, sweetie. So glad. See you soon, sis.”
Not soon enough, Maggie thought as she thumbed the off button, but she’d already pushed too much. She was going to take this gift on her sister’s terms and, as she said, not try to control what happened with it. Maggie began the hike toward home, vowing to appreciate the good in her life and not mope about the issues her immediate family was dealing with.
But as she walked, memories she’d kept at bay intruded. One in particular, the night that Caroline left…
Her parents were in the front room of their house in Cornwall watching All in the Family when the show was preempted by a news bulletin about the Vietnam War. At eight, Maggie hadn’t been sure what war was about, but recalled distinctly her father’s disgruntlement at the interruption.
Caroline walked into the room. Her sister was so pretty, so kind, that Maggie always smiled at the sight of her. She ruffled Maggie’s hair, then sat down on a chair in the corner where she could see both their parents. “Ma, Dad, I gotta talk to you.”
“Be quick about it,” her mother said. “Archie’ll be back on soon.”
“Mags,” Caroline told her, “go check on Jimmy.” Their one-year-old brother.
“He’s sleeping, Caro.”
“Go anyway, sweetie. I need to talk to Ma and Dad alone.”
Maggie had left the room, but instead of heading upstairs, she stood by the doorway out of sight and listened.
“What’s the matter?” their mother asked. Maggie heard the sound of a match being lit, smelled the familiar, awful scent of the Chesterfields her parents smoked.
“I’m…I…”
“What, Caroline Anne?” Maggie’s father’s deep voice rumbled from the couch. He worked odd hours at the Glass Works, and when he was home, he wanted peace and quiet. Mostly, he wasn’t there, though. He spent nearly all his free time gambling at the race track or playing cards until the early hours of the morning.
“I’m getting married,” Caroline said simply.
Silence. Then, her mother shouted, “Jesus Christ, are you pregnant?”
“No.”
“You don’t even have a boyfriend,” her father put in.
“I do.”
“Why don’t we know about this?” Her mother’s tone made Maggie afraid. “You know you aren’t allowed to go out with anybody unless he comes here and we meet him.”
“I-I was afraid to tell you.”
“Who is
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