Part 11 (1/2)
”When did it change?”
”When I was four. Kids can be cruel at a playground. I had no idea what the names meant. My parents explained.”
”How? What did they say?”
”That people gravitate toward those who are like them-that they're threatened by people who are different-that, as differences go, skin color is the toughest because it can't be hidden. I worked twice as hard in med school, and I still do it now, as a doctor. Even after all this time, do you think I can just sit back and relax? Think again.” He pointed to his face. ”When things go wrong, this is the first thing they cite.”
”For you?” she asked skeptically.
”Believe it, Dana. Look what's happening here-with you, with your baby. He thinks it's mine? What is he, nuts?”
”It's his family-”
”Whoa,” David cut in, eyes wide and angry again. ”Hugh's, what, forty years old? Don't blame his family. He has a mouth.”
”And he's used it, trust me, but that family is a way of life.”
”How can you defend them?”
”I can't. They live in such a rarefied world that they're half a century behind in some things.”
”Well, they're wrong.”
”Of course they're wrong,” said Dana. ”I can't believe the rest of the world is as bad-or, let's say, I don't want to believe it. Your Ali is happy. She accepts her color, like she accepts her hair and her smile. I want Lizzie to be that way.”
”Then work on your husband,” David advised.
”Daddy,” Ali cried, running up, ”I just saw Baby E-lizabeth. Dana, Dana, she is so lit-tle.” Shoulders scrunched up, she tapped her thumb and forefinger together right in front of her face. ”Her nose is lit-tle and her mouth and her eyes. How can she be so lit-tle?”
Dana put an affectionate hand on Ali's head. ”She's just two days old. Isn't it amazing?”
Ali grabbed Dana's hand. ”I want to hold her. Gram Ellie said I had to ask you. Can I, Dana?”
”She has to wake up first.”
”Can I take her for a walk? Can I wheel the carriage? Gram Ellie says maybe you would let me-”
”Can't do, pumpkin,” said David. ”We have to go meet the swimming teacher in a little while.”
”I'm taking lessons at the town pool,” Ali told Dana, turning back to her father. ”Then later?” she begged. ”We have all afternoon and all night.”
”No, we don't,” David replied. ”We have to shop for things to take camping, then we have to pack. We're leaving tomorrow at dawn.”
Pressing close to Dana, Ali said an excited, ”I'm getting a sleeping bag and a flashlight and a backpack. Gram Ellie's making Baby E-lizabeth a sweater. I want to make one for her, too. Can I, Dana?”
”A sweater?” Dana teased. ”When did you learn how to knit?”
”I haven't learned yet, but last time I was here, you promised you'd teach me, so I want to learn now.”
”Aren't you a little young?” David asked.
”No, I am not. Dana was seven. I'm almost eight.”
David sighed. ”That may be true. But this isn't a good time. Dana just had a baby.”
Slipping an arm around Dana's waist, Ali said, ”I can take care of the baby while she teaches me.” She looked up from Dana's side. ”Can we do it at the yarn store?”
”Ali,” David warned, but Dana touched his arm.
”I'd love it, David. You're back from camping on Sunday night, right? How about Monday?”
”I wouldn't make promises, if I were you,” he advised. Think of Hugh, his eyes added.
”I can do what I want,” she said firmly. ”I would love to teach Ali to knit, and I'd love to do it next Monday.”
Chapter 9.
The garden mom was Crystal Kostas, though her last name came only when Hugh met her face to face. When she called his office late Thursday afternoon, she only said ”Crystal” and refused to leave her phone number. Fortunately, his secretary, Sheila, sensed the girl's nervousness and, on the spot, set a meeting for Friday morning.
Crystal arrived at the office wearing a long skirt with her tee s.h.i.+rt. Her auburn hair was anch.o.r.ed by a barrette at her nape in a way that downplayed the plum streaks. But her sandals were worn, and her face even more drawn than when he had seen her last.
He guided her down the hall from the reception desk and, once in his office, closed the door. He gestured her to one of the leather chairs, then, because she looked so nervous, said, ”Would you rather I have an a.s.sociate in here with us?”
She shook her head and looked around, first at the diplomas on the wall, then at the picture of Dana on the credenza, then at some bronze bookends that had been made by an artist on Martha's Vineyard. His parents still owned the house in Menemsha, but he and Dana had only made it there once this summer.
”Can I get you a cup of coffee?” he asked.
She shook her head.
He put an ashtray on the side table in her arm's reach, and took a seat.
Now she was looking at the pictures on the wall. Framed in wood, they were the standard charity-event shots, in which Hugh stood shoulder to shoulder with celebs. She would be impressed. Most of his clients were. Wasn't that the point?
He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. ”Do I look more like a lawyer today?” He wore a pair of tan slacks, an open-neck s.h.i.+rt, and a navy blazer.
She shot him a glance. ”Yes.”
”How's your son?” he asked.
”Not good.”
”Is he stable?”
She nodded.
”Tell me more, Crystal.”