Part 35 (1/2)
”What?”
”Sit down. I'll explain.”
Jim took a beer from the refrigerator and sat at the table in the chair farthest from Marina. He frowned but listened quietly as she told him about Gerry's surprise appearance, about Dara's death, about the baby.
”I told him about you.” Marina leaned across the table and touched Jim's hand. ”I told him about us. I told him my life is with you now.”
”But he's still here?”
”He's leaving--they're leaving--tomorrow morning. I gave him my decision, but he asked me to sleep on it, and actually, Jim, I don't think that's unreasonable. I think I'm just a little bit in shock about Dara's death. And I have to admit, no one's ever offered me a nice new baby before.” She smiled, trying to lighten the moment. When Jim didn't smile in return, she continued, ”I'm sleeping here tonight. I'm sleeping with you tonight. Gerry and the baby will be in the Playhouse.”
”Which seems strange to me,” Jim told her.
”Oh, Jim, I didn't know what to do. It's August. It's after six o'clock. He has a little baby. I doubt whether he could find a room in an inn on the island, or a seat on a flight to Boston ...”
”He managed to get himself here,” Jim reminded her. ”I think you should admit it, Marina. You're not one hundred percent certain that you want to be with me.” Abruptly, Jim pushed himself away from the table and headed for the door. ”I'm leaving.”
Marina was so shocked, she laughed. ”You're leaving? What do you mean? Jim, this is your house.”
”I'll sleep somewhere else tonight. I'll sleep on the boat.”
”Wait, Jim, listen to me.” Marina stood up. ”Don't be so d.a.m.ned John Wayne, don't turn up your collar and head off into the horizon like that.”
He paused with his hand on the doork.n.o.b. ”What are you talking about?”
”You can't go all quiet and manly and proud right now. I know you're mad that I let Gerry stay, and perhaps it was the wrong decision, but everything happened so fast, and it's all huge, Jim, it's enormous. And you can't just go off and leave me alone now. I'm sorry that it hurts you that even one percent of me would consider going home to be the mother of that baby, and that's what it's about, Jim, it's not about Gerry, I don't care a fig about Gerry. The important thing is that I told him I'm in love with you, that I'm going to move here to be with you, that I won't go back with him, baby or not. Isn't that the important thing?”
She caught her breath, watching him.
After a moment, Jim let his hand fall. ”All right. I'll stay.”
Marina crossed the room and leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him. He didn't hug her back, but he didn't push her away.
”Actually,” she joked, trying to lighten the moment, ”I was kind of hoping you'd challenge him to a duel for me.”
Jim didn't respond.
”Let's go out to eat,” she suggested. ”Let's go buy cheeseburgers and French fries and watch the sun set. Then we'll come home and go to bed, and tomorrow morning Gerry will be gone.”
Jim nodded. ”Good idea.”
Marina said, ”I'll just write a note for the girls.”
54.
Emma Emma changed from her shorts and tee s.h.i.+rt into a pretty sundress before she walked over to the Bracebridge house. It was a funny thing to do, she supposed, since Millicent Bracebridge could scarcely see, but Emma wanted to look her best for this conversation. The older woman wanted to have a talk with her, that was all she'd said, but Emma was pretty sure Millicent wanted to hear for herself about the lights.h.i.+p baskets. Perhaps Millicent would ask Emma to continue working for her. She hoped so.
When she reached the Bracebridge mansion, she paused, admiring the high white building with its symmetry and elegance. It was one of the most historically important houses on the island, Emma knew, and she was fortunate to have been able to work there, even for the summer.
She went up the brick sidewalk, raised the silver door knocker, then opened the door and stepped inside, calling, as she had so many times, ”Mrs. Bracebridge? It's Emma.”
She found Millicent Bracebridge in her usual place, seated in her wheelchair by the fireplace. The older woman wore a long-sleeved dress in pale blue linen and pearls around her neck.
”Thank you for coming,” Millicent said formally. She gestured toward the table near her right hand. ”Would you pour us some sherry, please?”
Emma poured the sherry into the platinum-rimmed etched gla.s.ses and handed one to Millicent, taking care that the older woman had a good grip on it before removing her own hand and settling onto the sofa across from Millicent.
”It seems we have had a little drama,” Millicent began, ”that concluded with you quitting your job. I can understand your decision, but I'm disappointed that you didn't bother to discuss it with me first.”
”But Mrs. Bracebridge!” Emma objected. ”I didn't quit! Your daughter-in-law fired me. She phoned me, she told me never to come to the house again.” She realized she was almost yelling and moderated her voice. ”I told her I wanted to say good-bye to you, but she said if I tried, she'd call the police and have me forcibly removed.”
Millicent's face fell. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then spoke with fierce dignity. ”This house has been in my family for twelve generations. A Bracebridge has lived here continually for over two hundred years. I had hoped one of my children would live here to take over the stewards.h.i.+p of this house, but unfortunately, my son died and none of the others wishes to make this island her home. It is isolated, I understand that. My daughter-in-law finds it boring. I understand that. History is not for everyone.” She paused to sip her sherry, then continued. ”It is a difficult thing for someone as entrenched in traditions as I to realize that someone outside the family values my possessions, and me, more than my own daughter-in-law.”
”Oh,” Emma murmured. ”I don't think--”
Millicent gave a demure little snort. ”You don't need to think that. I know that. I may be blind, but I'm not blind.” She laughed briefly at herself. ”I'm aware of many things, Emma, some of which you obviously aren't aware even with your excellent sight.”
”I'm sure you are--”
”For example, I'm aware that my grandson is in love with you.”
Emma was speechless.
”Do you imagine he used to rush over to have lunch with me almost every day before you were around?” Millicent smiled. ”I wish I could see your expression now.” Then she continued briskly, as if she hadn't just given Emma the surprise of her life, ”It took a bit of courage, not to mention a rather unusual imagination, for you to sneak those baskets out of the house like that. I understand that you didn't want to tell me, but I am surprised that you didn't confide in Spencer. Of course, you were probably trying to protect his pride. He would have known immediately that his mother was taking them. She's taken things from this house before. In a way, she sees them as her possessions to do with what she wants.”
”I apologize for the way I handled it,” Emma said softly. ”I should have told Spencer. But I wanted to be certain before I mentioned it ...”
”The question for me is, were your actions an indication of respect and affection for me, or for the objects themselves?” Millicent took another sip of sherry. ”I'd like to think the answer is both.” The older woman suddenly leaned forward, her black gaze aimed at Emma, and it gave Emma the eerie sense that she was seeing directly into her soul. ”You do not give yourself enough credit, my dear. I might be blind, but you're the one who doesn't see. It would make an enormous difference to me if I knew that someone who cared about the history of this house and this family were carrying on the traditions.”
Emma frowned. Was Millicent getting senile? Suddenly nothing she said made sense. ”Mrs. Bracebridge--”
”h.e.l.lo, Grams!” The front door slammed and Spencer came into the room. Seeing Emma, his face brightened. ”h.e.l.lo, Emma. I didn't know you were going to be here.”
Emma stared at Spencer and for the first time she got it--how happy he was to see her.
”I've been off-island,” he told Emma. He sat on the couch next to her. ”I brought back a figurehead from one of the whaling boats that a Falmouth family had in their barn.”
”Your mother fired Emma,” Millicent said.
Spencer looked dismayed. ”Oh G.o.d, Emma, I'm sorry.” He glanced at his grandmother, then back at Emma. ”I know she's embarra.s.sed by the whole lights.h.i.+p basket thing. She's taken things before when she's wanted a little money, and we've let it slide ...”
”But taking the baskets was too much,” Millicent said sternly. ”And firing Emma without talking to you or to me--no. This can't go on.” She s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in her chair. ”The two of you really need to settle things so that I can enjoy the rest of my days in tranquillity.” She rang the small bra.s.s hand bell next to the sherry bottle.