)
Elizabeth stepped off the bus and noticed two police cars passing in the direction of home. She caught her breath as the cars pulled into her driveway.
From a distance, she could see her brother in the doorway, her sisters in their bathing suits, still wet from the sprinklers, small puddles of water pooling at their feet. They clung to Sam’s legs as he spoke with the officers.
Elizabeth ran the final hundred feet like a seasoned sprinter, in time to see the policeman touch Sam’s shoulder and lower his head as he spoke. “Son, I hate to have to tell you this . . . There was an accident on the interstate, just south of Boston, about an hour ago. A five-car pileup. There were four fatalities. Your parents were both killed. I’m so sorry. So very sorry for your loss.”
It was August 1966, and for Elizabeth Sutton, it was the day her new life began.
Chapter 3
For months, relatives, neighbors, and well-meaning friends filled the Sutton home, while Sam and Elizabeth combed through stacks of mail, condolence cards, and file folders. Offers poured in to help sort through the accumulation of paperwork and Mr. and Mrs. Sutton’s personal belongings, but they were politely refused—one of the few things Sam and Elizabeth could agree upon. Funeral arrangements were difficult enough, and the thought of anyone touching these precious possessions was distasteful and offensive to both of them. All Elizabeth wanted to do was crawl under a rock to nurse the enormous hurt and escape the burden that had been thrust upon her young shoulders. Having to think about strangers deciding what was best for her family, or what items should be kept or discarded, only added to the crippling weight she was forced to bear.
Sam found comfort behind his father’s oversized, solid mahogany work desk in the corner of the formal living room, the perfect spot to ponder, reflect, and contemplate without interruption from his sisters. This room had stood the test of time and, as far as Sam could recall, had never changed. It was never modernized from the previous owner’s formal tastes, and was never “fooled with” as his mother used to say. It was the only room in their five-bedroom house left uncluttered by children’s toys, jackets, or odds and ends that seemed to litter the remainder of their home.
Double-hung windows extended from floor to ceiling. They looked out onto the street, symmetrically flanking either side of the red oak in the front yard. Bright white wainscot paneling encircled the bottom half of each wall, and the original midcentury wallpaper—a sweetbriar pattern of vines and magnolias in moss green and sapphire blue—stretched to meet the glorious crown molding at the uppermost portion of the wall. It was a jewel of a bygone era that perfectly suited Mr. Sutton’s unyielding desire to stay rooted in the past.
The formality of this space was meant for a piano and little else, but since the Suttons didn’t own a piano, and none of the children showed any interest in learning to play, Mr. Sutton had convinced his wife to allow him the luxury of keeping a desk at home. “We have the space for it, Lord knows.”
Mrs. Sutton seldom countered her husband’s requests or wishes, and on this matter, a space reserved for grownups only, she agreed wholeheartedly and found no reason to object.
Elizabeth pressed opened the door, and pulling her thick russet-colored curls tighter in its ponytail, interrupted Sam as he sifted through paperwork. “Laura and Tina crawled into bed with me again last night.” She hoped he might look up and say something, anything, but the quarreling over how to run the household and accomplish daily tasks continued. They avoided each other’s company and resorted to brief comments. Summer was drawing to a close, the start of the new school year was merely weeks away, and Elizabeth felt a mounting urgency to formalize a plan.
Sam didn’t look up or acknowledge his sister’s presence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her standing in the doorway but was lost in his thoughts. All those talks at the dinner table—he considered himself a man, acting in concert with his father. Now, even though twenty-one years old, he felt like a boy again, ill-equipped to take on the obligation of raising his sisters, caring for the house, and managing the unwanted life that had been forced upon him. But he had found the solution. Elizabeth shrugged and left him to brood in silence.
)
Once the twins were asleep, Elizabeth eyed her brother, who still sat in the lone chair, behind the desk in the sanctuary of his father’s favorite room. When she beckoned him again to take a seat at the dining room table, Sam finally agreed and pulled up a chair. Elizabeth couldn’t help but notice the air of confidence he once pulled off so effortlessly had been replaced with a grim, pallid look of defeat. He made himself as comfortable as he could under the circumstances.
Elizabeth had brewed a fresh pot of coffee for Sam and put the kettle on the flame to make a cup of tea for herself. She had never liked tea, but it seemed appropriate now, and she heard the caffeine would keep her awake and her mind sharp. Sam had become a frequent customer at campus coffee shops as soon as he left for college, drinking cup after cup well into the evening.
Sitting at the dining room table, forced to remember a family in happier times, unnerved him. He was prepared to get this conversation started—and ended—as quickly as possible. “What is it Elizabeth?” He had already made his plans for the future, and they did not include his younger sisters. I need to get this over with once and for all, Sam thought.
She sat opposite from him and began, “I thought we might all be able to stay in the house and try to be as normal as possible.” She rushed on before Sam could interrupt. “You could get a job, sign up for night classes, I could take care of Laura and Tina and do the housework. I can’t stand the thought of leaving home or splitting up the family.”
Sam squirmed in his seat and studied his coffee cup, unable to hold Elizabeth’s gaze. He knew he couldn’t postpone this conversation any longer.
“Elizabeth, I can’t be responsible for a family. I’m only twenty-one. There’s gotta be a better solution.” He put his hands on the table as if to leave, but his sister wasn’t done.
“You’re just going to go back to school as soon as summer is over? So you’ll pick up where you left off as if nothing’s happened? Go back to your dorm? Your political rallies—and your keggers? Who will take care of us?” Elizabeth’s voice rose to a crescendo as she stared at her brother, and without words, dared him to reveal his plan.
Sam’s head started to pound, and the ringing in his ears grew louder than his sister’s pleas. He turned from Elizabeth’s determined gaze, hoping to avoid the confrontation that was imminent. “Ever heard of Vietnam?” he blurted and then dragged his eyes up from his coffee cup to meet Elizabeth’s.
“Of course. I watch the news. But what’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s only a matter of time before I get my draft notice. I could object, could claim I was responsible for raising a family . . . ” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth dropped open with sudden comprehension.
“But I want to go,” Sam continued. “I joined the Marines. I enlisted. I went for my physical the other day, and I’ll be leaving for boot camp in three weeks.”
Of all the things Elizabeth expected to hear and hoped to talk about with Sam, this was not one of them. The air felt like it was being sucked out of the room, turning icy and cold, and all that came out of her mouth were intermittent sobs. As the tears flowed, she knew she had nothing clever, angry, or shocking to say to her brother in response.
“Do you want to die?” she spat out the words but choked at the thought.
Sam ignored her comment. He wondered why he had chosen to risk his life in Vietnam instead of remaining by his family’s side. There was no explaining his actions to Elizabeth if he couldn’t explain them to himself. His normally booming voice was flat, matter of fact. “I spoke with Uncle Bill and Nana right after I signed the enlistment papers.”
“And what did they have to say about this stupid, selfish thing you’ve decided to do without discussing it with anyon
e? With me!”
“Not much they could say. Once you sign something on the dotted line with Uncle Sam, there’s no turning back.”
The fear for their future and loathing for her brother’s cowardly response to their tragedy made Elizabeth want to throw things at Sam, smash his coffee cup against the wall, and turn the dining table and chairs over in one deafening crash, even if it meant waking up Laura and Tina. Instead, she slowly got up from the table, walked to the living room, nestled into her father’s recliner, and fell asleep.
)
Elizabeth woke the next morning, stiff and sore from a fitful night on her father’s lounger. She recollected her conversation with Sam and felt the anger rising to the surface once again. She resented her brother for abandoning her and her little sisters, and wanted to talk with Uncle Bill right away. Without leaving the chair, she grabbed the telephone from the end table beside her and dialed.
“Hello, Uncle Bill . . .” Elizabeth began.
Bill interrupted. “Hey, kiddo. Was just thinking about you. How’s everyone doing at the house?”
“Not good, not good at all. Can we meet somewhere for lunch or something? Soon?”
“Sure, honey. Today’s Friday, so we can all meet for lunch tomorrow. How about Plymouth? We could have a nice lunch on the waterfront, maybe take the little kids to see Pilgrim Rock when we’re done. It’s an easy drive from Boston for you and we’ll leave Nantucket on the first ferry. Would you like that?”
“Yes! Thank you, Uncle Bill. Sam told me last night he was going to join the Marines.” Her throat constricted, her whole being once again gripped with fear. “What’s happening? Who’ll take care of us? Where will we live?” Tears streamed down the side of her cheeks as she anxiously waited for her Uncle’s response.
“Sam called me the other day, Elizabeth. We know about his decision. Aunt Deborah and I have already had a chance to talk. Calm down, it’s going to be okay. No one expects you to solve this problem. You’re not much more than a little girl yourself. We’re here to help, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow when we see you at lunch.”
Elizabeth let out a deep breath and hung up, feeling much better than she had in weeks. Maybe, just maybe we’ll all live with Uncle Bill and his family, and everything will be all right. She ran to tell Sam and the twins about meeting her Aunt and Uncle and wondered if this might be a good day to stop worrying, at least for the moment.
Chapter 4
The sun was shining and that always made Elizabeth feel better. Elizabeth and Sam joked with Laura and Tina, pulling out a new book of Mad Libs to lighten the mood. It took all of their minds off the serious nature of the meeting. Only Sam and Elizabeth knew what the outing was about, and by the time they reached the small café Uncle Bill had chosen, they were drained from too much forced laughter meant to lift their sisters’ spirits.
As they pulled into the parking lot, Elizabeth spotted their Uncle Bill, Aunt Deborah, and their nine-year-old cousin, Ricky, walking towards the entrance. Elizabeth rolled down the window and waved her arms to get their attention. “We’ll meet you inside.”
“You all look wonderful,” gushed Aunt Deborah. Even though she showered praise that would have sounded insincere from someone else, Elizabeth knew her words were genuine and her compliments were plentiful. A true lady, their aunt wore dresses to the supermarket, gloves to church, and high heels even in the coldest of weather if the occasion called for it. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back in a neat bun. Elizabeth couldn’t recall ever seeing it loose or disheveled. Her heart settled and the knots in her stomach relaxed. She felt safe with her aunt and uncle in charge.
)
They had not seen each other since the funeral and Elizabeth was hopeful they had good news to share. She was certain they had a plan, and even if it meant leaving Boston, the only home she had ever known, at least she and her sisters would be together.
The one available booth was meant for six, but everyone made room for one another. Aunt Deborah brought coloring books and crayons for Ricky and the girls, hoping they would be distracted while the adults talked. After the waitress took their orders, Uncle Bill placed his hands on the table and tapped his fingers, an understated gesture that signaled he was ready to open the difficult conversation. “Well, it looks like we have some planning to do here. We’ve had time to discuss everything like I told you on the phone.”
Still grieving for his sister and brother-in-law, he knew that he had to anchor the family and assume the position of both uncle and father. His eyes darted from one Sutton child to the next and his voice cracked when he started to speak. Elizabeth’s temporary relief reverted to worry and apprehension. She felt nauseated, as if she were on a roller coaster that was about to go off the rails and send her flying into midair. She noticed her aunt avert her gaze. She could feel her heart start to flutter. After a long silence, she looked up from the French fries she had desecrated in a pool of ketchup, pushed her hair away from her face and looked at her uncle squarely in the eyes “So, what’s the verdict? Where will we be this time next year?”
Her Aunt Deborah spoke first in a sweet, genuine tone. “Elizabeth, Sam, no one ever wants to make these kinds of decisions, but the plan is to do what we can to ease this burden and the impossible situation you’ve found yourselves in. Tina and Laura are the same age as Ricky, they could go to the same school and share the one extra room in the Island cottage.”
She fumbled with her napkin and avoided eye contact with Elizabeth. “But we only have room for the twins, and it wouldn’t be the best situation to crowd us all into one little house, trying to keep everyone under one roof.”
Stunned, Elizabeth sank back into the faded orange Naugahyde booth. She noticed the small slashes and scribbled initials. Cigarette smoke curled through the air, exhaled by patrons in the smoking section. Crying babies could be heard from the farthest corner booth. The waitress’s voice grated on her nerves and the aroma of the fried food on the table made her feel sick. She waited, certain what was coming next was more news she didn’t want to hear. Her long auburn curls covered her face as she hung her head, wishing she could disappear. Aunt Deborah reached over to push her hair back. Elizabeth pulled away.
Uncle Bill saw dismay sweep across his niece’s face and attempted to ease into the rest of the discussion. Elizabeth could tell he was trying too hard to make it sound okay, but nothing he could say would make it so. She let her mind wander and no longer heard or cared about what was to come out of his mouth next.
“Elizabeth, we thought it would be best if you stayed in Boston—with Nana. We would make sure the whole family got together at least once a month, and the high school in the city will offer you a much better education than the small high school on Nantucket.”
Aunt Deborah picked up where Uncle Bill left off and agreed with his practical solution. She sensed her reasoning was falling on deaf ears. “We will need to sell your parents’ house . . . lots of repairs to be done . . . good market for a large family home . . .” She could tell by the distraught expression on Elizabeth’s face that she was making matters worse, not better. Elizabeth tuned out her words and stared past both of them. The twins and Ricky continued to scribble and chatter, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation.
Elizabeth remained silent, and hoped she could make everyone else as miserable as she felt. Instead, she looked at Sam, then to Uncle Bill, to Aunt Deborah. “I can’t wait to get letters from Sam in Vietnam and see my sisters for a couple of hours a month. I’m sure Nana would love the company. And it doesn’t matter what I think anyway, does it? When should I start packing?”
)
Nana was reading the newspaper when the phone rang. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room that had stood sentry for over four decades, a gift passed down by her mother, waiting for the day when it would be passed to her own daughter. She stilled her thoughts and took a deep breath, realizing that day would never come. Af
ter the third ring she gently removed the receiver from the cradle and nestled it to her ear. Nana didn’t have far to reach. She kept the phone next to her favorite chair so she would never have to rush to answer. At her age, standing up before she steadied herself made her light-headed. She was proud to still be fit and alert in her advancing years, even though she was cautious with every step she took.
The death of her daughter and son-in-law brought her agony she never knew existed, but her pain began to ebb with the decision to have her eldest granddaughter share her home in Boston. At first, Bill, Deborah, and Sam were dead-set against it, preferring Elizabeth stay with one of her father’s sisters, but in the end, everyone, especially Nana, felt that living with her grandmother was the best solution.
“Nana, this is Sam. How are you? Is now a good time?”
She had been waiting for Sam’s call. “It’s fine, Sam. Just fine. How did it go today with Bill and Deborah?” She fidgeted with the coiled cord that dangled from the end of the telephone, and prayed that she would not break down when she heard his voice.
Laura and Tina watched cartoons in the living room while Elizabeth sat expressionless in her father’s chair, eavesdropping on the conversation between Sam and their grandmother. Elizabeth could hear Sam pacing in the kitchen as he spoke, but couldn’t see that he was nervously twisting the phone cord in his hands. She had no idea what Nana was saying but was intent on getting as much information as she could by listening to her brother’s side of the conversation.
“Well, the twins are pretty happy to be going to the island . . . with Ricky.”
Popeye cartoons made a racket on the TV, “I yam what I yam and that’s all that I yam.” The twins giggled, but the booming voice of Brutus and the shrill voice of Olive Oyl created an even bigger challenge for Elizabeth to hear Sam’s hushed responses. She leaped from her chair to lower the volume. “Sorry, guys. It’s a little loud.” She settled back into the comfort of her father’s chair, prepared to hear every word Sam said.
Keep Forever Page 2
