“Why are we stopping this far away?”
“No road. The truck could make it, but with all the broken bottles and other trash lying around, I don’t want to blow a tire.”
They got out and started to walk, with the trailers finally coming into focus. Four of them dotted a small piece of land, each looking like it’d been tossed there by a previous owner.
“Do they have electricity?”
“Yeah. They have hook-ups—when they pay the bill. Half the time my mamma’s place is dark. Thank God there’s a portable toilet over at the edge of the lot. Knowing her, she’d go right in the middle of the rug when the water was turned off.”
“Damn, we should have bought her some bottled water. That’d be handy if her services are shut off.”
Hennessy pulled Townsend to a stop, bent and kissed her forehead tenderly. Then she wrapped her in a hug and held on tight for a surprisingly long time. “I never thought anyone would understand,” she whispered. “I’ve always worried that the person I fell for would run for the hills when they met my family.” She pulled back and gazed at Townsend for a few seconds. “But here you are, one of the wealthiest people I’ve ever met, and your instinct is to make her life better. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Townsend reached up and trailed her fingers across Hennessy’s forehead, trying to ease the stress lines. “Your mom and I are more alike than we are different. I could have ended up in her shoes if a certain blue-eyed girl hadn’t helped me climb out of the hole I was in. You understood me,” she said. “No one ever had.”
Hennessy nodded, then continued to walk, her pace getting faster as they got closer. As she trotted alongside, Townsend asked, “Should we keep our story straight, that we’re friends from Harvard?”
“Doesn’t matter. She won’t ask. Won’t care.”
When Hennessy knocked on the door, a woman answered almost immediately. “Hi, Mamma,” she said, giving her a tight smile. “Just came by to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
“Hennessy! Get yourself in here, girl!” They entered the dark, ramshackle trailer, and Townsend now understood what the term “dirt poor” meant. The place was ghastly, and smelled absolutely awful, but Hennessy’s mother was fully dressed and sober, so she counted her blessings.
“Mamma, this is my very good friend, Townsend. Townsend, this is my mother, Maribelle Pikes.”
There was a bit of light coming in through a smoke tinted window. Just enough to get a good look at the woman. Townsend forced herself to offer some kind of greeting, but that was all she could manage.
If she’d been charged with picking out Hennessy’s mother in a lineup, Maribelle would have been her last choice—even if the others were men. There was not one hint, not one iota of resemblance between the women, and Townsend wondered if Hennessy could have been switched at birth.
Maribelle was no more than five foot six, and as Hennessy had warned, dangerously underweight. Her hair was an odd, lackluster, mousy brown, curly in spots, wavy in others, and downright sparse in various places. Her eyes were close in color to her hair, as flat and lifeless as a doll’s. With skin that looked as though it hadn’t been exposed to the sun in years, blue veins were luridly visible, making Townsend a little sick to her stomach. But when Maribelle showed her teeth, breakfast almost came back up. Crooked, yellowed, a few noticeably missing; Maribelle had the look of a woman who’d lived on the streets for years—although, with her pale skin, she’d only come out at night.
“We brought you a few things for the holidays, Mamma. I know times are a little tight right now.”
“Oh, my, they surely are,” she agreed, her accent not only stronger, but with a different character than Hennessy’s sweet, slow cadence. Maribelle’s was fast and grating, the kind of voice you’d be tired of awfully damned quick. “I was just down to the county office this morning. Just got back not a lick before you showed up. I told that man I needed an increase, but they don’t listen. They never listen.”
“I’m sure they don’t. Well, I know you like to have some food in the house, so we bought you some things that’ll last for a bit. Is your power on?” She looked pointedly at a lit candle, which provided the only illumination in the dim trailer.
“Why, of course it is, honey. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Oh, you never know. Anyway, I bought you some things. Since tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, I thought you might like to make a nice dinner for you and…” She pursed her lips, looking uncertain.
“Kenneth, honey. Well, that’s very, very nice of you. I’m sure Kenneth will love a good meal.” She went to the bags and started to paw through them. “Now, if I just had a little holiday cheer, you know, maybe some eggnog…”
“I’m sorry, Mamma,” Hennessy said, actually sounding as though she were. “I didn’t have enough money for anything extra.” She extended the wrapped package and the card. “But we did buy you a present. It’s not much, but…”
The paper was off the package before Hennessy could complete her sentence. “Lord, do I need these,” Maribelle said, genuinely pleased. “Thanks for thinking of your mamma, baby.” Townsend noticed that the woman didn’t even give a thought to opening the card, and she tried to avoid looking into Hennessy’s eyes, unwilling to see the hurt that she knew would be there.
“Well, I guess we’ll be off. We’re gonna go help with lunch at the shack.”
“You can stay and visit for a while if you want,” she said, the invitation decidedly unenthusiastic.
“No, I know you’re busy. I’ll let you go.”
“You stop in and say hello again, all right? I hardly see you at all anymore. Where you been keeping yourself?”
“I’m away at college,” she said softly, and Townsend made the critical error of meeting Hennessy’s eyes. She nearly burst into tears at the pain she saw in them, but she knew she had to be strong for Hennessy, so she clamped down to keep them at bay.
“Oh, that’s right. Where do you go again, baby?”
“Boston.”
“That’s right. You go to Boston.” She started to walk them to the door, cocking her head to ask, “How do you pay for a plane ticket all the way to Boston, baby? If you’ve got the money for that…”
Unable to witness another moment of this torture, Townsend twitched her head in the direction of the car and walked away, trying to give Hennessy some privacy. Unable to resist the urge to peek, she turned and watched the scene, seeing Hennessy’s hands link behind her back as she rocked on her heels. The dark head shook, slowly at first, then more vigorously. Finally, she tossed a hand in the air in a poor attempt at a wave, and stalked away. Maribelle started to come after her, but Hennessy wheeled around and shouted, “Don’t you dare ask her for money! Don’t you dare!”
She turned and started to jog, grabbing Townsend’s hand as she got close. They ran until they reached the car, then Hennessy jumped in and peeled out so quickly Townsend almost didn’t get her leg in. After driving just a few minutes, Hennessy turned off the car and leaned against the steering wheel, crying so piteously that Townsend was unable to hold her own emotions in any longer. Eventually, they came together and held each other, their tears landing onto each other’s shoulders.
Hennessy wasn’t sure where she was headed, but she had to be outside. Just a few minutes inside her mother’s trailer made her feel like she’d been locked in a cell, and she had to air herself out. Townsend was uncharacteristically quiet, probably still mulling over the morning.
“I’d like to be as far away from humans as possible,” Hennessy said. “Want to be outside with me?”
“Sure. I’ve been spending a lot of time outside at school. It’s the only way I can get away from all of the noise.”
“It’s not as warm as I’d like it, but I guarantee we’ll be warmer than we’d be in Vermont or Boston.”
“Won’t take much to win that bet, Chief. Where are we going?”
She thought for a minute. “Let’s hit one of the barrier island
s. Then we can walk on the beach or go for a hike.”
“A hike, huh? I can’t say I’ve done much hiking, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
Hennessy took Townsend’s hand and placed it on her thigh, feeling much better to have that little bit of connection. They drove for quite a while, Hennessy’s need for wide-open spaces compelling her to keep driving until other cars were few and far between. “I think this is a good spot,” she said as she drove past a closed visitors kiosk at the entrance to a state park. “Lots of people in the spring and summer, not many now.”
They parked near a lighthouse, the lot dotted with a dozen cars. “There’s a decent trail up ahead,” Hennessy said. “Let’s go walk for a while, then swing back and walk along the beach.”
“I’m game, but remember I’m used to sitting in dark bars and smoking. My stamina probably isn’t very good.”
“Mine’s not great, either. I ran around like crazy when I was in high school, but my butt’s in a chair most of the time now. College is really bad for your fitness.”
Within five minutes, they were the only people around. It was a cool day, probably in the low 50s, with a brisk breeze skimming over the tops of the loblolly pines that towered over them. Hennessy loved the way the wind worked through the needles, sometimes sounding like a bunch of people all whispering at once.
“If we’re lucky, we’ll see some birds.”
“Birds, huh?” Townsend said, a crooked smile on her face. “Now don’t get my hopes up too high.”
Hennessy grasped her hand and squeezed it. “I know life’s slow down here, but…”
“Teasing, Chief. I like wandering around out here. It smells good.”
“It does,” Hennessy agreed. “Pine and salt mostly, but I could probably pick a few more things out if I concentrate.”
“I don’t need to know what the smell is. I just like it.” She threaded her arm around Hennessy’s and they walked for a long time, picking their way over the uneven path that meandered through the trees.
The trail was only a mile long, but Townsend was lagging by the time they were only half done. Hennessy consciously slowed down, realizing that Townsend’s fitness was far below her own. Of course, Hennessy hadn’t been smoking a couple of packs of cigarettes a day for the past four years. It had to take a while to clear the gunk out of your lungs.
Now that they were moving at a slower pace, Townsend started to talk. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Anything.”
The sun streamed through the trees, with bright spots of light reflecting off her golden hair. Hennessy was idly thinking of how remarkably pretty she was when Townsend said, “Do you ever wish you hadn’t been born?”
“No!” The volume surprised her, and Hennessy modulated her voice. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
She shrugged, looking like she’d started something she didn’t want to finish. But she soldiered on. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just thought…” Her lips pursed and she hesitated, then spit it out: “I thought maybe your parents would have had better or different lives if they hadn’t gotten married so young.” She swallowed, then looked up at Hennessy. “I’m very glad you were born, but I thought you might feel…I don’t know…”
“I’m glad I’m alive,” Hennessy said, not a doubt in her mind. “Yes, my parents, or at least my daddy, would have had a better life if he hadn’t gotten my mamma pregnant, but there are a million things that make life turn out like it does. I don’t feel responsible for their choices.”
“I wasn’t saying you should,” Townsend said. “I was just wondering.”
Hennessy pulled her to a stop, touched her chin to lift it, then looked into her eyes. “What’s really on your mind? Something is.”
Townsend blinked again, then shivered through her thin jacket. “I need to tell you something, but it makes me sick to think about it.” Her voice shook as her body trembled roughly.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you, I promise.”
In a very quiet voice, she said, “I didn’t make the guys who had sex with me wear condoms. I got pregnant.”
“Oh, God, Townsend, I’m so sorry.”
“It was awful. I told my mother on a Monday morning, and that afternoon I found myself in a doctor’s office. Before I knew it they’d given me a shot of something. When I woke up…it was gone.” Her voice was flat and lifeless, the trauma obviously still fresh in her mind.
“Is that when your drinking got out of control?” Hennessy asked softly, still holding her tightly.
Townsend dropped her head onto Hennessy’s shoulder, still shivering. “I guess it was. After that, I started drinking when I was alone. I’d never done that before. I…wow, that’s weird.”
“You were violated,” Hennessy said. “The boys who had sex with you violated you, and your mother violated you by not letting you make the decision.”
“Do you hate me for killing it?” she asked, tears streaking down her face as her shoulders shook.
“Of course not! I could never hate you. Never.”
“I would have made the same choice,” Townsend said softly. “I would have. I regret getting pregnant, but I haven’t regretted having an abortion.” Her eyes searched Hennessy’s. “Until now.”
“Because of what I said?” Her heart started to beat quicker, and she felt a little lightheaded.
“Yeah. I’ve never thought of it from the kid’s perspective. Maybe that baby really wanted to live.”
Hennessy grasped her again and held her tightly. “It’s not the same thing at all,” she said. “You can’t compare my life to that of a fetus. That life is pure potential. Mine is reality.” She moved away just enough to be able to kiss Townsend’s head repeatedly. “Even if you’d had the baby, there’s no guarantee he or she would feel like I do. You might have had a kid who spent every day cursing you for having him.”
Townsend let out a brief laugh. “With my luck, that’s exactly what would have happened.”
“Have you talked about this in therapy?”
“No,” she mumbled. “I’ve always been too embarrassed to admit to it. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”
Hennessy held her still and gazed into her eyes. “Look, I want you to find someone you can talk to about this when you get back to Vermont. You need to get your feelings out with someone safe.”
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ve been tormented about it ever since I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“Just since—why?”
“I think of what it would be like to have a baby with you, and then I think that I already had my chance, and I destroyed it. I worry I won’t ever have another opportunity. That I don’t deserve one.”
“Yes, you do,” Hennessy whispered fiercely. “You deserve chance after chance. You were in an impossible situation. It wouldn’t have been any easier to have the baby and give it up for adoption. God knows you were too young to raise it yourself, and it’s clear that your mother didn’t consider raising it for you. All of your choices were bad, but you did the best you could. Now you have to learn how to let go of the guilt.”
“That’s the hard part.”
“Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay. What?”
“Did you detect the slightest bit of guilt in my mother? Was there any part of her that seemed ashamed or troubled that she couldn’t remember I was in college now?”
“No. Not a bit.”
Hennessy dropped a kiss on Townsend’s head. “That’s right. She’s guilt-free. My mamma is a born victim. Every bad thing that’s happened to her is someone else’s fault.” Tightening her embrace, Hennessy added, “You’re not like that. You have a conscience. And that conscience is what’s going to let you have a full, rich life.” She leaned forward and kissed Townsend’s cheek. “With as many babies as you want.” Townsend started to cry, and Hennessy kept speaking in a low, soft voice. “Two or three blonde little Townsends running around the house,
making a racket and driving their mammas crazy.”
“Mammas?” she asked, looking up with her face streaked with tears. “Like two?”
“It’s awfully nice to think of having a baby with you. And even though you might disagree”—she patted her belly fondly—”you’ve got the better genes. I think you’d be a great mamma.”
Sobs wracked her body. Finally, Townsend got herself under control enough to say, “No one’s ever said anything nicer to me. Thank you.” A wry smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Even though you’re lying through your teeth.”
It was nearly dusk when they got back to the house, but Hennessy still didn’t want to go inside. They made their way down to the dock, and sat on it, idly gazing at the mud the low tide revealed. “We may as well get all of the upsetting topics out today,” Townsend said. “I noticed your father didn’t come home again last night. Is that okay?”
Hennessy shrugged, stuck her chin out and stared off across the little bit of water you could see through the waist-high grasses that choked the channel. “Yeah. It’s not uncommon for him to find a woman and shack up with her for a few days. Eventually, she’ll get sick of him and throw him out.”
“Do you think of him as your father?” Townsend asked. “I don’t mean that like it sounds,” she added when Hennessy gave her a stunned look. “I just wondered if he seemed more like an uncle or a much older brother.”
“Right.” She nodded, looking contemplative for a bit. “I guess in a way that’s more like it. It was always like my grandparents were raising two kids, only I needed less minding.”
“He knows you’re home, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, sure. He’s still got his memory. He’s not nearly as bad as my mother is. More of a binge kind of guy, I’d say. He can be perfectly fine for months at a time, but then something sets him off, and he goes on a tear. I assume my coming home did the trick this time.”
“But why?”
The Right Time Page 16
