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Authors: Katharine Davis

A Slender Thread (33 page)

BOOK: A Slender Thread
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From her vantage point, Margot couldn't see Wink's new sandals or her freshly painted toes. She had given the girls manicures and pedicures as a treat. Wink had chosen a subtle pale pink and Toni a deep burgundy that looked almost black.
Toni walked next to her sister. She tossed them a glance, tilting her head in recognition, her walk so like her mother's. She looked happier than she had in a while. Margot wondered if her niece would look back at her graduation one day and associate it with the end of her first love. What would she remember of Ryan? Would her memory of him fade when she fell in love again, leaving only a vague recollection of this momentous time? Memories were elusive. Margot imagined that both girls would always equate their last year of high school with the final healthy days of their mother.
She looked down the row of chairs to check on Lacey. A glaze of tears appeared to well in her eyes. Alex, beside her, smiled, a wash of amazement across his face, as if he could hardly believe they had reached this point in their daughters' lives. The lines around his mouth looked deeper. Kate and Hugh waved as the twins walked past.
When the sea of blue gowns had finally assembled in front of the audience, the school principal began his opening remarks. Margot's thoughts wandered and the sound of applause roused her at the moment he introduced the featured speaker, a state congresswoman who had graduated from the high school thirty years before. “The future,” she began, and launched into memories of what she had thought her own future would be when she had sat in this very same place.
The idea of the future had become frightening to Margot. It kept her awake at night. In spite of everything, Toni and Wink faced a future full of possibilities. But it was only a matter of time before Lacey would no longer have her voice, no longer be able to tell her daughters how proud she was, how she loved them, how they were her life.
Oliver would return to New York in September. He was caught up in his own commencement—enthralled with a new place, painting in a new way, wanting to take Margot with him on his new adventure. Why shouldn't she let herself be part of that?
Margot reached down for her handbag. With a shaking hand she undid the clasp and took out a tissue. She dabbed under her sunglasses.
Kate touched her arm. “You okay?” she mouthed.
She nodded and closed her mouth tightly. She swallowed and quietly blew her nose. Kate patted her arm once more and turned her attention back to the speaker.
Hugh's expression was intent, as if he didn't want to miss a word of the speech. Beyond him, Alex had lowered his head and drawn his arms across his chest, his back curving slightly, looking like a man trying to hold himself together. Lacey's eyes, still damp, seemed to be focused on the tops of the trees beyond the podium. A breeze had begun to stir the leaves. Her hands rested in her lap, her fingers curled upward and empty. The voice of the commencement speaker floated out above the students' heads, echoing slightly to those listening on the periphery.
“I want all of you, both graduating seniors and your guests, to think about this day, about where you are now, about the people you are with and all who care about you, and to ask yourself these questions: What have I learned so far? What do I hope for? What are my dreams? But don't ask these questions only today, on this day of new beginnings, on this day of celebration. These are questions we all need to carry with us, questions we need to keep asking ourselves, day after day, year in and year out.” The speaker finished with a final “Congratulations to all,” which seemed to rise in the air like the sea of blue and white balloons that were released on cue. With roaring applause, the crowd stood.
A cloud momentarily blocked the sun. As Margot bent to pick up her bag, she saw Alex uncross his arms and reach over to Lacey. He took her hand, placing it firmly in his own, and intertwined her fingers with his. Seeing that moment of tenderness made Margot's heart expand in her chest, almost like a pain. She didn't dare breathe.
She thought again of Oliver. The first few months after meeting him had been dizzying with change. No more quiet evenings, no more evenly shaped days. Suddenly she was fitting in hurried phone calls, rushing to meet him at his studio for lunch, sharing dinners in tiny restaurants she had never known existed. Once, Mario had called her down from a ladder where she was adjusting the lights for a new exhibition, saying Oliver was double-parked outside and had a quick question. She had gone out to the car and gotten in beside him. Before she could say a word his lips were on hers. “Are you for real, Margot?” He had kissed her again before saying, “I had to be sure. I couldn't wait until tonight.”
After making love, they would talk for hours, each wanting to know everything about the other. One night, months into the relationship, Oliver had asked Margot to tell him what had gone wrong with her marriage. Until then she had only alluded to her troubles with Teddy, but knowing Oliver better, she felt she could trust him with the whole story. Still, it had been difficult to explain how she'd been taken in by Teddy's attention—his looks, his charm, his sense of fun. She joked that he had been like some kind of elaborate, overly sweet dessert that left her sick and empty inside. When she told Oliver about Teddy's affairs, and the eventual illness that left her unable to have children, he took her hand and held it without saying a word. The warmth of his skin, the firmness of his grasp, felt like forgiveness. That night, Oliver had made Margot feel like she could begin again. It was as if she had been swimming underwater all those years after Teddy, and Oliver had brought her back to the surface.
Margot rose and followed Kate and Hugh into the throng of happy families. Everywhere she looked, people were laughing, hugging, and calling out to friends. A heavy older man in a seersucker jacket jostled her arm and excused himself. When Margot turned away, Lacey was at her side. She grasped Margot's arm. “I'm glad . . .” she said softly. “I'm glad you're here.” She smiled and then glanced up. The scattering of balloons had become tiny specks in the open sky.
 
“You okay?” Alex, holding two glasses of white wine, looked down at Margot. It was a soft evening in Lacey's garden, the day after the twins' graduation.
She closed her sketchbook. She had been drawing a peony. The pink blossom, lush and ruffled, was hard to capture. Odd, how easy it was to draw a gnarled branch, or a mottled leaf, each imperfection interesting and alive, yet something as perfect as this flower eluded her. She set her drawing down.
“I saw you from the kitchen,” he said. “Wine time. May I join you?”
“Of course,” she said, reaching for the glass. “Thanks.”
“Glad we're not cooking for a mob again tonight,” he said.
Yesterday's graduation party had been a huge success. Margot had loved seeing her nieces so happy, and preferring to be on the sidelines, she had kept herself busy passing food, refilling platters, and carrying away empty plates. Lacey had mingled with the guests, accepting the compliments for her well-loved barbecue sauce. Only a few of her closest friends were aware of her illness and Margot knew she wanted to keep it that way.
“Any leftovers?” she asked.
“Lacey put aside enough food for tonight,” he said. “Always thinking ahead. Cheers.” He lifted his glass.
She raised her glass to Alex, suddenly aware of being alone with him on Lacey's tea bench. A golden light fell across the lawn, like the color of the wine.
“I'm afraid we're taking advantage of you,” he said.
“Absolutely not. It was a pleasure to help with the party.” She looked away from him. A climbing hydrangea with fresh new leaves clung to a trellis on the back of the house. Lacey was training it to cover the cable box and some of the unsightly wires running up the clapboards.
Margot was leaving the next day. What more could she do for them now? The girls would be starting their summer jobs, Lacey had her garden and her weaving, and Alex would be back at work. Thankfully, she would have plenty to do in New York. Carl wanted her to hang the summer show as soon as she returned. Even if she had decided to go to California with Oliver, it would have been difficult to leave before August, and August had always been her time to be with Lacey at Bow Lake.
“Where did Wink and Toni go?” she asked quickly, feeling suddenly awkward alone with Alex.
“Some concert in Prescott Park. There's a series this summer.”
“Toni seems a bit happier.”
“Boyfriends are hard on a father.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess that part of me hopes I'll always be the most important man in my daughters' lives. Maybe that sounds sick. I don't mean it that way. Right now I'd like to clobber that guy for making Toni so miserable.”
“I'm not sure you ever get over your first love,” Margot said, and instantly wished she could take back her words. The memory of that uncomfortable night with Alex in the bar had upset her. Knowing that he still remembered what had happened at Bow Lake made her uneasy. Why had he even wanted to speak of their time together after all these years? He was a responsible adult, he had a family and, of course, Lacey. She glanced back at the house, thinking of Lacey up in her studio weaving during her every spare moment.
For a while Alex said nothing.
“Do you miss Oliver?”
His question surprised her. It was usually Lacey who asked about Oliver, ever hopeful that Margot would finally marry him.
“I don't mean to pry,” Alex went on. “Lacey said he was staying in California for the summer.”
“He is.” Margot sipped her wine. She remembered drinking wine like this with Oliver on Grant's terrace in Sonoma. She could still choose to go to California. The white roses would be in full bloom by now. She sighed. California seemed like the other side of the moon. “He wants me to join him, but I don't want to be so far away right now.”
“You mean far from here?”
“I want to help Lacey and be around for the girls.”
“Margot, you've already done a lot. I—I mean, we—don't want you to put your own life on hold. I already ruined your last trip. I wouldn't have called if I'd known you were out there.”
“It's okay. Lacey took your mom's death so hard. It's been a rough time.”
“You've been great with Toni, too.”
“Alex, I wondered—” She paused. “Why didn't you just call Lacey when you were worried about Toni?”
“Maybe I should have, but I feel like I've dumped so much on her. She's the one who has to deal with everything day to day, and she's the one who's sick. I feel like a louse.”
“But she wanted you to take the job in Chicago.”
He lowered his head. “Shit, Margot. She's getting worse. ”
“Maybe your vacation will help.” She stared at her glass, not daring to look at his face.
“She's cut back on her activities. I thought that would improve things, but it hasn't.” He gulped his wine. “Since Mom died it's as if Lacey has closed another door. I can't seem to reach her anymore.”
“It's the illness,” Margot said. “You know that.” She started to reach over to offer a reassuring touch, but stopped herself. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Along with everything else, you must miss your mother.”
“At her age and with her illness, it had to be expected. Losing your mom must have been much worse. Lacey's never said much about it.”
“She had to be the strong one. I have so many regrets in that department. I was young and selfish.” Didn't Alex remember? Their summer love affair had happened just after her mother's death. She sipped her wine, thinking she should go inside and see to setting the table for dinner. She certainly didn't want their conversation to go in the direction of that last summer at Bow Lake.
“You're too hard on yourself,” he said.
“I almost killed my mother.” Margot set her wine on the armrest of the bench.
Alex turned and stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“There was this party when I was in high school,” she began. “I must have been fifteen because I still didn't have my driver's license. Dad was away at some annual insurance conference—one of the few times he was away on a weekend. Of course Lacey was at college. I had always depended on her to drive me places.”
Margot shifted. The bench was growing hard and the air had started to cool. “I made dinner for us. Mom had been drinking, as usual. I could tell by the way she pushed her food around. Dad said I was to be sure she ate and be sure she got up to bed. My friend Janice was going to take me to the party after dinner. I don't remember why it was so important to get to this party except that it was at Greg Summers' house. He was one of the cool kids. I couldn't believe I'd been invited. While we were eating Janice called and said she'd been grounded for having flunked her biology test. There went my ride.”
“No one else could take you?”
“I kept calling. My friends had already left for the party. I was so furious that Dad and Lacey were away. Mom said she wasn't sure she could drive, but I persuaded myself that she sounded pretty clearheaded, and I talked her into taking me. She used to drive to the grocery store first thing in the morning when Dad was at work. Early in the day she was usually fine. I convinced myself that Greg's house wasn't that far. It wasn't totally dark either. So it must have been spring. I pretty much begged her to drive me.”
“You're sure your mom was drinking?” Alex asked.
“Mom was always drinking. Some times more than others. We got in the car. I saw immediately I was making a mistake. I had to tell her to stay on the right side of the road, to slow down, and to stop at the intersections. Somehow we got there. I was totally furious. I was angry at her for drinking, for being a stinking alcoholic and ruining my life as well as hers. I was miserable at the party. I vacillated between hating myself for putting my mother at risk and wishing she were dead.”
BOOK: A Slender Thread
4.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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