Chapter 3 #3
“Try telling that to the guy who can’t get a better job because he can’t read, and he can’t read because he dropped out of school to work so his family could eat.
I had friends like that. They’re still back in the same neighborhood, living in the same houses, only those houses are now older and more rundown. ”
There were people right here in town who fit his description.
“So they keep them clean. That’s something.
And they work so their children don’t have to drop out of school to earn money to eat.
So their children move ahead in ways they can’t.
That’s something. Upward mobility is relative.
You took it by leaps and bounds, and you’re right, some people can’t do that, but neither do they have to give up and stagnate. There’s always room for some movement.”
The movement I felt just then was the subtle squeeze of Swansy’s hand. Peter looked ready to argue more, but Swansy was right. It was time to move on.
“Is your dad still alive?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Have you kept in touch with your brother?”
Again, he shook his head.
All of which seemed very sad to me. Peter had made it, but there was no member of his family to see and share the pleasure.
Then it struck me that I wasn’t much different.
I had family, and plenty of it, yet I chose to keep them at arm’s length.
Not that they could appreciate my success.
In their minds, I was a dabbler. I worked with clay for the artsy image it portrayed and sold a piece here or there.
Not even the shows in New York had alerted them to the fact that I’d come into my own.
But then, I told them as little as possible about myself and my success. Was I still afraid of their criticism?
Again, Swansy squeezed my hand. “It’s all right,” she said softly as she tipped her face up toward mine. “Some things are special, whether they’re shared or not.” Then she turned to Peter. “Do you think you can help our Cooper?”
“I think so. I’ll know more after the weekend, after I’ve had a chance to look around and talk with people.”
“Cooper is special.”
“So I gather.” He spared me a dry look, then glanced at Rebecca, who’d risen from where she’d been lying between his chair and the rocker and was nuzzling his hand.
“Would you take her out?” Swansy asked. “She likes you. She’s always been a sucker for tall, good-looking men.”
How she’d known Peter was tall was no mystery; she formed impressions based on how far a person’s voice was above her head, or with a sitting figure, how far from the chair a pair of shoes shifted on the floor.
In Peter’s case, there’d also been the size of his hand and the length of his fingers.
There was only one way, though, that she could have known he was good-looking, and that was from me.
That was one of the things I felt selfconscious about. The other was that Rebecca didn’t need an escort. Swansy knew it, I knew it, and Peter had to know it, too. That was the only thing that could account for the cross between suspicion and amusement in his look.
I focused on Rebecca so that I wouldn’t have to suffer that look.
“Does she have a favorite spot?” he asked as he stood.
“She’ll lead you to it,” Swansy answered sweetly. As soon as Peter and Rebecca had left the room, she tugged at my hand. I settled on the edge of the chair Peter had just left.
“What do you think?” I asked softly.
She answered as softly. “He’ll understand Cooper. With a history like his, he’ll be better ’n some. I think you did well.”
“I can’t take the credit. He was Mom’s idea.”
“And you’re still regretting it. You’re tense, girl. I’d have to be deaf and dumb not to see it. What worries you?”
“I don’t know. I … don’t know.”
“Do you question his skill?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then it’s something personal. He’s younger than you thought he’d be.”
“Yes.”
“And more attractive. Are you drawn to him?”
“I’m not drawn to any man. You know that, Swansy.”
“You haven’t been. That doesn’t mean you can’t be.”
“I can’t be.”
“Hogwash. You’re a woman. You have womanly instincts.”
“I can’t be attracted to another man.” Swansy stared at me quietly, sweetly.
Inevitably, I began to talk. “I loved Adam. He was everything to me. We were like two peas in a pod, two halfs of a whole. We had something special. We shared a dream. We were going to build a life for ourselves that was pure and simple, and we were going to do it well. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean I have to give up the dream. ”
“No one’s askin’ you to.”
“But if there was another man—”
“It wouldn’t make any difference. You’d still have your dream.”
“But not with Adam.”
“You’re not gonna have it with Adam anyway, girl. Adam’s dead.”
I felt the sting of her words and wasn’t sure whether I was more upset by the words themselves or the way she’d said them. I could have sworn I heard impatience in her voice. I’d never heard that from Swansy before.
Sensing my distress in the silence, she reached out and slid a withered hand to my knee. “It’s the truth, Jillie. You know it as well as I do. You just won’t accept it.”
“I accept it,” I argued. “I’ve had to accept it.
I’m the one who’s missed him for six years.
I’m the one who’s made dinner for one and then spent my evenings with no one to share the news of the day.
I’m the one who’s gone to bed alone and woken up alone.
Adam’s dead. Gone. More than anyone, I know that. ”
“But you haven’t moved on. Think of what you were saying not so long ago to your Peter—”
“He’s not my Peter.”
“Well, he’s more yours than mine, since you were the one who brought him up here, and don’t try to distract me from the point I’m wantin’ to make, which is that you’ve got to do something more with your life.”
“More? More! Swansy, I’ve built an entire career since Adam died. Up to then, I hadn’t done much more than sell the occasional piece in a gallery somewhere. I’m having showings in New York now, and my things are selling as soon as they’re seen. Doesn’t that count for doing something with my life?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Swansy said with feeling. “It sure does. But what about the woman in you? You’re a woman of feeling. There was more than a little of the romantic in you when you and Adam moved up here, and don’t tell me there wasn’t.”
“I won’t.”
“So where’s it gone? What’ve you done with it?”
“I’ve put it into my work.”
Swansy acknowledged that with a pause, then a nod, then a softly warbled, “Yes, you have. It’s one of the things that makes your work special and different and beautiful.
You put your feelings into that clay.” Her voice grew even softer.
“But what about the rest, Jillie? What about the rest of the dream?”
I swallowed. I knew just what she was thinking. She and I had discussed it often in the months before and after Adam died. We hadn’t discussed it in a long, long time.
Looking down at my hands, I said, “It’s not that important. I’ve been lucky with my career. It’s more than I could have asked for. It’d be selfish of me to think that I can have everything. No one has everything.”
“You wanted children.”
“I can live without them.”
“Why should you have to?”
“Because Adam’s dead. I wanted Adam’s children.”
“And if you’d fallen in love with another man before Adam, you’d have wanted that man’s children. You are a nurturer. I see it here. You nurture every one of us in your own special way, but it’s not the same as having children of your own.”
“I have all of you, and I have my career. I’m perfectly satisfied with that.”
“Are you?”
“Yes!”
“Then what is it about your lawyer that makes you nervous? If you’re perfectly satisfied with your life, how can he pose a threat?”
“It’s no big thing. The man makes me nervous, that’s all.”
“Because you’re attracted to him, just the way you should be, and you’re feelin’ guilty, ’cause you’re still married to Adam, only Adam’s dead, so’s you have every right to be attracted to Peter, only you’re shaky like a young girl, and you don’t like that.”
“Damn right, I don’t.” Mostly I didn’t like being analyzed so well. Blind as she was, Swansy saw right through me, and I didn’t like what she saw. “First Samantha, now you. What is it with you people? Do I tell you how to live your lives?”
“Yes, you do. You told me that I should have a dog. You said that if I had one, I’d be more independent. Think of it, independent, at my age. But you were right. I listened to you, and you were right.”
“Listen to me, hah. I had to make all the arrangements behind your back, then tell you that Rebecca had nowhere to go but here because she was allergic to smog.”
“And it worked. So what about you? Should I tell you that Peter Hathaway has an ulcer and needs a cure by the seaside?”
“An ulcer?” came a deep voice from the door. “That’s an interesting thought. Actually, I’d forego the ulcer and just take the cure by the seaside. It’s great out there, all woolly and wild.”
Attesting to that was his thoroughly tossed hair, his ruddy cheeks and his eyes, which held added life as they homed in on me. The collar of his jacket stood up against the back of his neck. He looked healthier than a man of forty had a right to look. And more virile.
I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
But Peter wasn’t done. He said to Swansy, “Why would you want to tell Jill that I had an ulcer?”
In the flash of an instant, I imagined what Swansy’s answer would be.
I decided to beat her at her game. “So I’d take pity on you and take you in,” I said in a brassy tone.
I rose from my chair and started toward him.
“She thinks there’s something missing in my life.
Not only should I take you in, she thinks, but she thinks that I should let you father my children.
” I made a small sound of disgust. “Can you believe that? She hasn’t known you for more than twenty minutes and she’s got you and me having kids. ”