Adam's Story

by Jack Weyland

“Even rich people have plumbing problems.”

  Julia shrugged. “All right, go fix her problem, I don’t care one way or the other.”

  I laughed. “I can see you don’t care.”

  Mary Livingston Cartwright lived on the street that fronted and ran parallel to the beach. The house was a four-story mansion built in 1947 by a weapons manufacturer who made a fortune during World War II.

  Mary Livingston, the daughter of a minister, had married into the Cartwright family. Together she and her husband had raised three children who had long ago left the state. Her husband had been dead for fifteen years, and she was now seventy-two years old and lived alone in that big house.

  I had to ring four times before she came to the door. She looked like she was dressed for a party that should have been held forty years before. She wore a long pink dress with feathers sewn around the collar. I was fairly certain nobody made dresses like that anymore.

  “I’m the plumber. You talked to Julia about me.”

  She shook her head. “Go away. I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Did someone come and fix your problem?”

  “No, nobody came.”

  “Then why would you change your mind?”

  “I don’t want a stranger in my house. You never know these days. Now go away before I call the police.” She started to close the door.

  “Would you like me to come back with Julia or Catherine?”

  “I don’t know them either.”

  “Catherine is the woman who collects money from people who use the beach. You’ve probably seen her sitting at her card table. She’s there every morning.”

  “I don’t have ticket takers for friends.”

  “She doesn’t get paid for it. She’s a volunteer. You must have seen her if you’ve ever gone to the beach.”

  Mrs. Cartwright hesitated. “Perhaps if you bring her, I will let you in.”

  It took a long time to make the arrangements. First I had to talk Julia into working at the beach for an hour, and then I had to convince Catherine to go with me.

  Finally we showed up on Mary’s doorstep and were allowed inside.

  Catherine and Mary sat in the parlor and carried on polite conversation while I worked in the four bathrooms in the house.

  I had to make three trips to the hardware store.

  “How much is this going to cost?” Mary asked.

  “I won’t be able to tell you until I’m done.”

  “I’m not a rich person,” she said.

  It looked to me as though Mary was being held hostage by faucets that leaked and toilets that didn’t always flush. It must have been years since she’d had anyone in the house to fix the problems.

  I worked for two hours before I was finally done.

  By this time Mary and Catherine were at the kitchen table, eating fancy sandwiches with no crusts and filled with a cream cheese-green olive mixture they’d made together.

  “I’m done.”

  “It certainly took you long enough. Did I mention I’m not a rich person?”

  “You did. Would you like to see what I’ve done?”

  “Yes, I would. I just hope you haven’t made things worse.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Catherine said. “Adam here is very good.”

  It took her a while to climb to the fourth floor, and then we worked our way down. I pointed out everything I’d fixed.

  By the time we reached the bottom, Mary Livingston Cartwright was very grateful. “Oh, thank you, thank you for doing so much.”

  “No problem. I spent twenty-seven dollars and forty-nine cents at the hardware store.”

  “So how much do I owe you?”

  “Forty dollars.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Well, you’ve got to let me do something for you. You’ve spent all this time working and you’ve done so much. There must be something I can do.”

  I walked into the kitchen to make sure I hadn’t left any tools lying around. “Does that finger sandwich have cream cheese in it? I’d be pleased to have it.”

  “I can make more,” she said.

  “No, just that little corner piece would be plenty for me.”

  “Please take it then.”

  I popped it in my mouth.

  She walked us to the door. She and Catherine gave each other a little hug.

  Mary Livingston Cartwright turned to me. “Young man, in all my days, I’ve never heard of someone coming to make repairs who didn’t charge an arm and a leg.”

  “I’m just happy to help out.”

  “Let me put you on retainer.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It would be like an insurance policy. I would pay a certain fee every month with the understanding that if I need you to fix something, it won’t cost me anything, except for parts, and that you will promise to come within two hours of when I call you.”

  “I’d do that anyway, without a monthly fee.”

  “Please let me talk to my lawyer about it. I’m sure we can work something out, not only for me, but for all the houses on this street.”

  “Well, it’s not necessary. Just keep your fridge stocked with cream cheese and green olives. That’s good enough for me.”

  “What is your name?” she asked as we were leaving.

  “Adam Roberts, ma’am.”

  “Adam Roberts, you are the finest young man I have ever known. Your folks must be so proud of you.”

  I shook my head. “No, actually they’re not. They’re very disappointed in me, but that’s a topic for another day. Good-bye, Mrs. Cartwright.”

  On the way out to the car, Catherine took my arm. “You hate cream cheese and green olive finger sandwiches, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “Oh, Adam, my sweet boy, you have captured the hearts of everyone in this community.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.”

  “Where is this girl who once loved you?”

  “I don’t know. She’s probably married by now.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Brianna Doneau was her maiden name. She was engaged to a guy named Thomas Marler.”

  “And she’s a lawyer who works in Newark. Is that right?”

  “Probably not anymore. She’s probably married and moved with her husband to Michigan, where they will both practice law. He has a bright future ahead of him. That’s why it never would have worked out between us.”

  “It’s a crying shame she can’t see what you’ve become.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “What I’ve become is nothing special.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Your parents would be proud of you.”

  “I guess we’ll never know, will we?” I said.

  I should have known that Catherine never asked questions just to pass the time of day.

  • • •

  We endured torrential rains every day during the last week of September so that by Friday night, I had cabin fever and needed to take a walk along the beach. The forecast for the rest of the weekend was not promising. A hurricane was skirting parallel to the coastline and there was a possibility it might turn west and head inland. But nobody could say when and where that might happen.

  At eight-thirty I put on a yellow rain slicker with a hood and walked briskly to the beach area. It was already dark, and there was nobody else around. I headed north. The surf was up and waves were crashing onto the beach. It would rain steadily for a while, and then there would be a sudden deluge that would last a minute or two, and then it would go back to being steady again.

  I walked for an hour and then turned around and headed back.

  When I was about half a mile from the Spring Lake beach shelter, I saw a dark figure approaching me. As it got closer, I could see the person was also wearing a yellow slicker. I was surprised anyone else would be out on a night like this.

  We seemed to be on a collision c
ourse. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so I changed my direction slightly.

  The stranger changed direction also, so he or she was still heading toward me.

  I stopped and turned to look out at the waves, hoping the walker would go on by me without the necessity of us talking.

  I soon became aware that the stranger in the yellow slicker was standing next to me.

  “Got a match?” she said.

  I turned and saw that it was Brianna. My first impulse was to escape.

  “What do you need a match for?”

  “I don’t need a match, but that’s what you’re supposed to say when you meet on a beach on a dark night.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We came to talk to you.”

  I looked around. The beach was still empty. “We? You got a clam in your pocket?”

  “Come with me and see. They’re in the van.”

  “You must be married if you have a van, right?”

  “Hold my hand and I’ll take you there.”

  “I know where that’s from. West Side Story.”

  She grabbed my hand and led me to the street where a long van was parked with the engine running.

  “Get in!” she yelled.

  “Are you working for the Mafia now?”

  “Get in, I said!”

  I opened the side door. In the few moments the dome light was on, I caught a glimpse of my second mom, sitting in the passenger seat and my dad behind the wheel. “Sit down and move over so I can get in!” Brianna instructed.

  I got in and scooted over, and Brianna sat down beside me and closed the sliding door.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “We’ve all come to see you,” Lara said.

  I turned and looked behind me. My grandparents on my dad’s side were in the seat directly behind us. And in the last rows were my grandparents on my second mom’s side, as well as Eddie and Claire.

  “We’re all here,” Claire said.

  I was stunned. “What for?”

  “We need to talk,” Lara said.

  My dad drove us to Julia and Catherine’s house. I didn’t have to give directions. They seemed to know where it was.

  The ten of us entered the cottage where I was living. There weren’t enough chairs, so I went to the garage, got six more, and set them up in the tiny living room.

  As we were sitting down, I looked around at the unexpected scene. All my relatives, except my brother, Quentin, were there. Along with Brianna. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.

  Once we were all seated, my dad took charge. “We have a few things we need to talk about as a family.”

  “If this is about trying to talk me into moving back to Utah—”

  “It’s not about that,” my dad said.

  “What is it about then?”

  “It’s about us being a family,” Lara said.

  “We’re going to start clear back at the beginning,” my dad said. He sounded in charge, but then he looked over at Lara, who nodded, as if she were giving him permission to continue.

  “Adam, I loved your mom very much,” my dad said. “She often turned my very predictable world upside down, but I loved her.” He sighed. “More than I can say.”

  The wind and the rain were getting worse, and the bare branches of a tree were beating on the window.

  “We’d had trouble getting pregnant, so when you came along, we were very happy. Life was so good for us for a while, and then your mom got sick. As she got worse, it was a very hard time for me.” He cleared his throat. “And when she died, a part of me died with her.”

  Lara reached over and held his hand.

  “I had a pretty rough time of it for a while, and then I met Lara, and she helped me so much.” He sighed. “Looking back on it now, maybe I should have waited before getting married again. The reason I say that is because I was still grieving Charly’s death, and it wasn’t fair to Lara. Some days I was like the walking dead.

  “Even after a year I wasn’t in very good shape,” my dad said. “But, you know what, you can’t call a time-out in life. You were growing up, and you needed a mom.

  “Lara knew that, so I’m sure because of that, she agreed to marry me.”

  Lara interrupted him. “That’s not entirely true, Sam. I loved you. I loved you both. I couldn’t imagine my life without either of you.”

  Dad leaned over and kissed Lara on the cheek. “This woman is my hero, and I will always be grateful for her rescuing me, and for being such a wonderful mom to you.”

  There was a knock on the door and then Julia and Catherine came in with a basketful of sandwiches and some soft drinks. “I bet you people are starving. Eat these up. Let us know when you need more.”

  “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble,” Lara said.

  “Nonsense. We’ll get out of here now and let you talk.” And with that, they left.

  “Let’s finish this up and then we’ll eat,” my dad said. He cleared his throat. “Adam, there’s one thing you need to understand from tonight. It was Lara who rescued both you and me. She was the strong one those first few years.”

  Grandma Whyte spoke up. “Lara used to call me in tears about how hard it was for her, with Sam still grieving, about to lose his business, and, even at times, Adam, how he ignored your needs.”

  Lara shook her head. “I’m not Mother Teresa. I just did what needed to be done.”

  “In time I did get better,” my dad said. “But by then, we were in a pattern where Lara took charge of most everything in the family. I should have been more of a leader, but, the truth is, I wasn’t. I’m sorry about that now.”

  Lara turned to Eddie and Claire. “I apologize for not including you more in Adam’s life. I was young and insecure, and there were times when I was very jealous of Charly, and I think that jealousy caused me to not be as friendly as I should have been.”

  “We know you were going through a hard time,” Claire said.

  “As long as we’re clearing the air here, you need to know how hard it was for us,” Eddie said. “Adam was our first and only grandchild. We wanted to be involved in his life. But the way things went, we didn’t even feel comfortable sending him presents. I still have the toy train set I bought for him, except for the caboose, which I let Adam take with him to Utah.”

  My dad’s mom, Grandma Roberts, spoke up. “Eddie and Claire, we should have been more sensitive to that need and made a stronger effort to keep you involved. I’m so sorry. It was bad enough to lose your daughter, but to have lost touch with Adam must have made it even worse.”

  Grandpa Roberts nodded his agreement. “I apologize, Eddie. We had always been so close, as business associates. It seems a shame to have lost contact over the years. Especially since we share a grandson.”

  “I think it’s time we put the entire train together, on the same track,” Lara said.

  “We’re a family,” my dad said. “Everyone here is in our family. And Quentin on his mission is also in our family. And the thing is, we need to look out for each other. If one of us is having a tough time of it, then the rest of us need to pitch in and help out. That’s what families do.”

  My mom looked at me. “Adam, what are you thinking?”

  “I can’t believe you all came here to see me. I didn’t think anyone cared about me, one way or the other.”

  “How could you think that?” my mom asked.

  “Somehow I got the idea growing up that as long as I did what you wanted me to do, then I was acceptable to you, but if I ever stepped out of line and did anything you didn’t approve of, then you’d write me off and forget all about me.”

  “We love you no matter what you do,” she assured me.

  “And what do you think about this crazy mixed-up family?” Claire asked Brianna.

  “I love your family.” She was struggling to keep from getting too emotional. “I don’t have one of my own anymore.”

  “What do you mean, you do
n’t have a family? Everyone has a family,” Grandmother Whyte said.

  “My dad left us when I was in high school, and then a few years ago, my mom died.”

  “Be in our family then,” Eddie said.

  “I’d love to be included in your family.”

  “All in favor say ‘aye,’” Eddie said.

  Everyone said “aye,” except for me.

  “Then it’s settled. Brianna is an official member of our family.”

  My mom glanced at me and winked, “I wonder how we could make it even more official,” she said with a silly grin on her face.

  “Yes, I wonder that, too,” my dad said.

  “Are we about done here?” Grandpa Whyte asked. “The only reason I mention it is that I’m starving. They fed us on the plane, but I’m not sure what it was. Whatever it was, there wasn’t enough there to fill up an ant.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Don’t you want to know what my plans are for how I’m going to make a living?”

  “What kind of sandwiches are they?” Grandfather Whyte asked. “I just hope they’re not egg salad. I can take anything but egg salad.”

  “How are you going to make a living?” my dad asked.

  “I’m going to be a plumber and repairman for Spring Lake. And if that doesn’t work out, I may go to college and become a teacher.”

  Eddie was out of his seat checking out the sandwiches. “This one is ham . . . This one is ham . . . This one is cheese . . . Oh, here’s a tuna. Anyone want tuna?”

  “Be whatever you want to be,” my mom said. “We don’t care, as long as you’re happy.”

  That was as long as she could keep the men in my family from rushing the food. She turned to my dad and said softly, “We’ll need a blessing on the food.”

  My dad asked Eddie to say the blessing.

  After the blessing, we attacked the food. Within a couple of minutes, my mom and my grandmothers went next door to help Julia and Catherine prepare some more food.

  Half an hour later, Julia rushed in to tell us the hurricane was headed inland. We turned the TV on and watched the Weather Channel.

  We were just outside of the area where they expected the hurricane to come ashore, but we were in an area where they were forecasting high winds and heavy rain.

  Julia invited us all into her house, and then she started assigning rooms where people could spend the night.