Beloved (51 page)

The remark meant nothing, of course, and yet Jane felt her cheeks begin to flame. It was never
what
he said; it was always
how
he said it.

"
I wanted to let you know that I have an unexpected house guest,
"
she said,
"
so I won
'
t be able to come on Saturday after all. You probably noticed that my mother is here.
"

"
It
'
d be hard to miss the daggers that went whizzing through my truck window this afternoon.
"

"
You
'
re wrong about her,
"
Jane lied,
"
just as you
'
re wrong about me.
"

"
Is that so? Hell, then bring
'
er along,
"
he taunted.
"
The more the merrier.
"

"
Oh, well, I wouldn
't want to ..
. although it
's kind of you to ..
. all right. I will. Mother would be delighted. Thanks
soo
much for asking,
"
Jane said, furious with his ability to throw ice water on whatever warmth of feelings she had for him.
"
I
'
ll bring lasagna.
"

"
Fine. You never asked about the tape.
"

"
I nearly forgot,
"
she said breezily.
"
What did you think?
"

"
It
'
s nothing. I know what you
think
is on the tape; I even know where you think it is. But it
'
s nothing.
"

"
It
'
s her. You know it and I know it. Last night you had me convinced I was wrong. But in the clear light of day, thinking of what I know and when I knew it
—
it
'
s her, Mac.
"

They said good-bye with more sadness than anything else. Jane was about to force-feed Mac
'
s invitation to her mother when the phone rang. It was Bing, in the city. He didn
'
t start out with his usual charming banter; his voice was nearly as tense as Mac
'
s had been.

"
I
'
ve been trying to reach Cissy,
"
Bing said without preamble.
"
Any sign of her?
"

"
I saw her car tucked behind Phillip
'
s house when I was out walking earlier; she must be holed up over there. What
'
s wrong?
"

"
It
'
s Dave again. He was over here a little while ago, telling me he
'
d sworn off alcohol and insisting that I intercede for him. Eventually I tried to nudge him to the door; it turned into a shoving match. Maybe I should
'
ve brought charges, but I didn
'
t. Now I
'
m wondering from something Dave said whether he might be on his way to
Nantucket
.
"

"
You want me to walk over and warn her?
"

"
We
'
re not supposed to know she
'
s there, remember? I
'
d rather you kept an eye out for Dave. Big guy, tacky dresser, black hair—you can
'
t miss him. If he shows up, let me know.
"

"
Bing
—
what did he say that makes you think he
'
s on his way?
"

Bing hesitated.
"
He said,
'
She may be getting it from someone else, but the bitch is still my wife.
'"

Jane winced and said,
"
I
'
ll watch for him.
"

She hung up and rejoined her mother, who looked up from her book and said,
"
Was it something serious?
"

Jane forced a carefree laugh.
"
On
Nantucket
? Never. That was Mac again; we were comparing lasagna recipes, that
'
s all. Which brings me to an interesting proposal
...."

U
ncle Easy
'
s party was nothing like the ones Jane had ever thrown. Jane
'
s parties w
ere like her parents' parties:
she invited people who shared similar backgrounds, tastes, and career levels, then sat back as they all had a predictably pleasant time.

Uncle Easy
'
s party, on the other hand, was closer to social anarchy. The variety of cars parked all around Mac
'
s grounds was amazing
—
everything from a Mercedes to a battered VW bug. The old house itself seemed energized. Maybe it was the hand-lettered bedsheets proclaiming,
"
Easy
'
s Eighty!
"
and
"
Eighty
'
s Easy!
"
Or the exuberant balloons (mixed colors, no theme) and tulips (mixed colors, no theme) that marked the way to the back door. Whatever the reason, the McKenzie homestead looked alive and kicking and ready for just about anything.

Jane
'
s mother, dressed with casual elegance in pale blue, stepped out of the
car
and, ignoring the balloons and flowers by the back door, began walking around to the front.

"
That
'
s the company door, Mother,
"
Jane said, tugging her back with her free arm.

"
Aren
'
t we company?
"
her mother asked with a bland expression.

"
Maybe; but I
'
d rather be family.
"
The words were out before Jane knew it. But it was true. She was so deathly tired of being treated like a temporary resident; all she wanted was to be part of things.

They went through the little wart and knocked and waited at the diamond-paned door. Jane was beginning to wonder whether there was some secret password; but eventually someone noticed them and waved them in. She and her mother stepped inside to a scene of good-natured chaos, with potluck dishes being passed and stored and heated and covered and uncovered and assembled and refrigerated, all without an apparent system. There was, after all, no woman of the house.

Still, Mrs. Adamont wasn
'
t a bad pinch hitter. She was there, twinkle-eyed and in her element, to take Jane
'
s pan of lasagna from her and put it somewhere logical. Mrs. Adamont was the only one who seemed to know intuitively where the pot lids, big spoons, and wine openers were. She gave Gwendolyn Drew a cheerful
"
how-do-you-do-again
"
; handed their gift to a couple of kids to put on the gift table in the keeping room; advised Jane with a wink that Mac and Billy were moving the beer tub out of the kitchen and into the keeping room; and greeted the next incoming guests, all without missing a beat.

Jane and her mother made their way through the crush, looking for the guest of honor, introducing themselves as they went. It hardly seemed necessary; just about everyone knew who they were.

Uncle Easy
'
s younger cousin
Doris
sure did. She buttonholed Jane
'
s mother and said,
"
Look around. Now this is how it
'
s
supposed
to be. That boy has never once had us over, not since his wedding reception. First the excuse was, she was too busy fixing up the place. Then the excuse was, she was gone and who
'
d do the cooking? And you know, she never
did
like this house; it was set too far back from the road for showing off. But don
'
t it look nice? Too bad it didn
'
t work out.
"

Gwendolyn agreed completely, even with the parts she didn
'
t understand, and she and her daughter moved on.

They bumped into the two elderly sisters from the back row at Aunt Sylvia
'
s wake.
"
We think it
'
s so much better,
"
the sisters said pleasantly,
"
to tell someone what you think of him
before
he
'
s six feet under. Have you tried our cucumber sandwiches?
"

Dorothy Crate was there, too, looking down her long, aquiline nose.
"
Mother couldn
'
t be here today. She isn
'
t well, despite the fine weather we
'
re having. It was so kind of Mac to ask us to Mr. Zingg
's party. Such a ..
. surprise.
"

And Jane finally got to meet Billy
'
s wife, Carol, complete with a fat and pretty Sarah in a pink baby sling.
"
Boy, am I glad you gave Billy the work,
"
Carol said, shaking Jane
'
s hand warmly.
"
We were tw
o months behind in the rent ..
. my folks were all tapped out
...
I didn
'
t know what we were gonna do. Doesn
'
t Bill do fine work, though? I hope you
'
ll pass his name around. Maybe it
'
ll make up for the car the dope took.
"

Jane
'
s mother smiled when she was supposed to, and nodded when she had to, and generally was the gracious trooper she
'
d always been. But it was obvious that she was looking for the man next door, and the man next door hadn
'
t yet arrived.

Jane was surprised to see that Mac
'
s son Jerry was there, playing Nintendo with what were apparently a couple of his
Nantucket
cousins. But she was even more surprised
— shocked, really
—
to see that Jerry
'
s mother was at the party. Celeste McKenzie was standing at the mantel, a little preoccupied and aloof, although her smile was friendly enough for anyone who stopped to chat.

God, she
'
s a knockout,
Jane realized anew. In her subtly textured sweater and her beautifully tailored skirt, Celeste was definitely in the running for best dressed. Jane herself had worn a soft, simple white blouse and a denim skirt because she knew the company would be mostly casual. Now she regretted it.

"Who
is
that?"
her mother murmured into her ear.

"
That
'
s Celeste McKenzie, Mac
'
s ex. She
'
s a
Boston
attorney.
"

"
And looks it. My
goodness
.
She married our host? Where
is
our host?
"

Their host was apparently done with his hosting and moving like a steam locomotive across the room to be with Celeste. Jane watched with dismay as Mac, oblivious to the merrymaking, fell into an intense discussion with his ex-wife.

"
I thought you said he didn
'
t talk much,
"
her mother remarked.

"
I guess he does, when he has something to say.
"

He doesn
'
t see anyone else in the room,
Jane realized with a sinking heart.
And that definitely includes me.
So she
'
d been wrong, after all, to think she
'
d seen nuances. Actions spoke louder than nuances
—
and so far, she herself had seen precious little action from this guy.