Don't Put the Boats Away

by Ames Sheldon

  “Maybe you should offer to go together to a marriage counselor. If you were there too, it might be easier for her.”

  “That’s an intriguing idea.”

  “Worst case, there’s always divorce.”

  “Oh no. We’ve never had any divorce in our family. It’s frowned upon. I have an aunt and uncle who stay married, living together in the same house though they haven’t spoken to each other in decades.” He pauses. “At least we hadn’t had any divorces until Harriet and Ron.” For the first time it strikes him how difficult breaking up with Ron must have been for his sister.

  “Well, why don’t we order? I was thinking we could go down to the Village Vanguard and hear some music after dinner.”

  “That would be great! What do you hear from our fellow classmates?”

  Two hours later Nat and Peter sit at another table in the basement nightclub on Seventh Avenue South listening to the mellow sounds of the Bill Evans Trio.

  “That’s some mural,” Nat says, inclining his head toward the poet running with quill and paper toward a naked woman sitting at a table, her legs crossed, with greenery decorating her lap.

  “It’s silly but fun,” Peter says. “A guy named Petroff is the artist.”

  Cautiously, Nat asks, “Are you seeing anyone, Peter?” He has never asked Peter about his love life before, but the atmosphere of this club feels so intimate that it seems like an appropriate question here.

  “I’m living with a fabulous guy I met last year. Stephen is a set designer for Broadway plays. He gave me this tie you like.”

  “I’m glad you have someone.”

  “I am too.” He takes a sip of his martini. “It’s easy to meet people in this city. It’s not so easy to settle down with one. You have to be really committed.”

  Nat sighs. “Marriage certainly is a commitment.”

  They listen for a while. Then Nat says, “I like this music. It’s cool. And it’s easier to talk over than bebop, though I wonder how these cats feel about being talked over. I never liked it when I was playing.”

  “I bet the band is used to it.” Peter leans forward a little. “I get the feeling you haven’t told me everything, Nat.”

  “You know me so well.” He takes a sip of his Manhattan. “There’s this nurse at the hospital, Lucy Anderson. We work together, and one time about a year ago we went out for a drink. I’m so attracted to her I can hardly stand not touching her, but I know I can’t act on my feelings.”

  “Because you’re married.”

  “Right.”

  “What’s Lucy like?”

  “She’s very caring and compassionate with our patients and with everyone, really. She’s smart and she’s funny. She lost her husband a number of years ago. She has a daughter around Abby’s age.”

  Peter puts his hand on Nat’s. “She sounds like a nice lady.”

  “With Dorie the way she is, I don’t know how long I can hold out in this marriage. I’m almost tempted to start something with Lucy to see what’s there.”

  “Maybe you should. It might clarify things for you.”

  “But I can’t have an affair. You remember years ago when I told you I was sure Father was having an affair? I never knew the other woman’s name, but I saw how Mother suffered. I can’t do that to my wife. I can’t do that to Lucy either. She deserves to be with someone who is free to love her.”

  “What about trying for an open marriage? Lots of couples seem to be doing that these days. You’d be free to experiment.”

  “Open marriage seems like it’d get very messy.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He pulls out a cigarette, lights up, and exhales. “I must say, Peter, it’s a huge relief to be able to discuss my problems with you.”

  “Call me anytime. If I’m not in the office, our secretary will take a message.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry Dorie doesn’t have a friend like you.”

  One afternoon a few weeks later while he’s in a patient’s room at the hospital, Nat hears, “Calling Dr. Sutton, Dr. Sutton, urgent. Pick up the phone.”

  His heart seizes with fear. Has one of his children been hurt? He reaches for the telephone on the wall. The hospital operator answers.

  “This is Dr. Sutton.”

  “Hold on, I’ll connect you.”

  A moment later he hears, “Nat, it’s Alice next door.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “I just wanted you to know I have Ernie and Vi with me. When they got home from school, they couldn’t get into your house. They rang the doorbell again and again, but Dorie didn’t answer. They came over to our place. When I tried telephoning your wife, there was no answer. I hope everything’s all right. I’ll keep the kids here with me until you come and get them.”

  He glances at his watch—it’s three-thirty.

  “Thank you, Alice. Could you keep them with you a little while longer? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He’s relieved that there hasn’t been an accident, but what’s going on with Dorie? Has she done something to herself? As soon as he can get another doctor to fill in for him, he races home.

  Turning his key in the lock, he’s a little afraid of what he’ll find inside. Hurrying through their home, he discovers Dorie sound asleep in their bed. His feeling of relief quickly turns to exasperated fury.

  Shaking her shoulder, he says, “Dorie, wake up! What are you doing asleep at this time of day?”

  She pulls herself into a sitting position. He sees that she’s wearing her nightgown. Vaguely, she says, “What time is it?”

  “Four o’clock. Ernie and Vi have been home for an hour. They’re next door with Alice because you locked them out of the house. Alice called me at work. This is outrageous, Dorie! And where are Abby and Ned?”

  “I don’t know. At school, I guess.”

  “I want you to get dressed and go over and bring the kids home. Apologize to Alice. It’s not up to her to take care of our children!”

  “You get them. I’m too embarrassed.”

  “This is your responsibility.”

  Grumbling, Dorie climbs out of bed and pulls on some old clothing. Nat goes down to the kitchen to see what they have for dinner. The refrigerator is practically empty.

  As he drives to the grocery store, he’s grateful this incident didn’t occur when it was twenty below. Then he realizes he can’t take any more chances; his children simply aren’t safe when Dorie’s in charge. The kids need to be able to come home to someone who will be there to let them in. A nice, reliable woman who cooks. He’d better cut back his hours in the clinic, focus on research, which will give him greater flexibility so he can be home more of the time.

  Later that night, he stands over Dorie, who’s back in bed. “Today was the final straw, Dorie. I’m going to hire a housekeeper whether you like it or not.”

  Weakly she replies, “Please don’t.” Tears start to dribble down her wan cheeks. “I’m sorry about what happened today, but don’t bring in some other woman. I don’t want somebody watching me in my own house.”

  “I don’t trust you to attend to our kids.”

  She dashes the tears away. “I refuse to let another woman in to rule my home.”

  “Then I will leave and take the children with me.”

  He’s frightened that it has come to this, while at the same time an exciting sense of liberation is rising in him. The love he once felt for Dorie is long gone.

  “You can’t do that. I live for the children!”

  “I have to do this.” He’ll need to find a furnished house and a housekeeper as soon as possible. Fortunately he can afford to buy another place. When his father sold Sutton Chemical, George gave him and Harriet $100,000 each.

  But how is he going to explain moving to his kids? He aches for them when he thinks about how unsettling this change will be for them. He can’t tell his children he doesn’t trust their mother without damaging their sense of being safe whe
n they’re with her.

  He’ll have to allow them to spend some time with Dorie, but he’ll want to be the one who drops them off and picks them up again so he can monitor Dorie’s behavior. This could get really ugly.

  May 1968

  On her way to the faculty room for a quick cup of coffee, Harriet notices that the door to Janice Braun’s office is closed. She stops, startled, for she’s never seen it shut before, though she realizes it must be from time to time. She hears people talking inside. Is that her father’s voice? She knocks briskly.

  “Yes,” Janice replies. “Come in.”

  As she enters, her father and Janice, who are seated close together at a small round table in the corner, jerk apart. Janice blushes. She’s wearing a ruffled pink blouse Harriet has never seen before. Come to think of it, Janice has worn all sorts of new blouses with her suits lately.

  “Hello, Father, I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  Janice laughs. “George is here all the time.” She sounds a little flirty.

  What is going on? The atmosphere in the room is positively electric. She doesn’t like the energy she senses between Janice and her father.

  Calmly, he replies, “We’re discussing the merger.”

  “What? The merger! You’re going ahead with it?” She’s shocked. She hasn’t heard anything about a merger in months. She assumed the financial problems that led the boards to consider merging had faded away. The general economy is certainly booming.

  Sitting back in his chair, her father says, “Of course we are.”

  Her stomach tightens. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I knew you’d be angry.”

  She is angry, but she’s just as mad at herself for being so willfully blind. A while ago when her mother remarked that her father was rarely home because of all the meetings he had to attend, she never asked questions. How could she have been so stupid? Her conviction that the merger should not proceed caused her to ignore any indications that the process was indeed moving forward.

  Her heart starts pounding in her ears. “But you didn’t give the faculty a chance to offer their ideas for saving Hartley.” This is so unfair! She looks at Janice and then George.

  He leans forward. Speaking slowly, emphatically, he states, “It doesn’t matter what the faculty think. It’s up to us with the fiduciary responsibility for the schools to make this decision.”

  Now she’s trembling inside, but she takes a tight grip on herself. “It seems to me …”

  He cuts her off. “It’s our responsibility to determine what’s best for both institutions.” The arrogance in his voice makes her think her father considers this his own personal responsibility.

  She turns to her boss. “Janice. How could you let this go ahead?”

  “We have to accept the inevitable, Harriet. Our students will have a better educational experience once we work everything out.”

  “I don’t believe that,” says Harriet. “Hartley’s curriculum is much more rigorous than Warden’s. Their upper school chemistry course is anemic compared to ours.”

  Janice says, “Is that true?”

  “You’re telling me the final decision has already been made? But girls thrive in schools for girls! I would never have developed any confidence in my intelligence if I hadn’t attended a girls’ school and women’s college.” She’s absolutely convinced that this is the case.

  “We’ll be announcing the merger in June, after the school year is over.” Janice looks down at her hands resting on the table. How can she be so passive?

  “I see,” Harriet says. “You’re presenting a fait accompli at a time when the parents and students stop thinking about school for a few months.”

  Glancing at George, Janice says, “We can’t disrupt the end of the school year or distract students from their final exams, and we certainly hope to minimize any opposition.”

  Harriet can scarcely breathe. Is there anything she can do to stop this juggernaut? She’s so lost in thought that she absentmindedly sits down at the table with them. She could quit her job in protest. “What’s your timetable?”

  “We’ll start the fall with the new school operating on both campuses.”

  “That soon?” Then she understands: if she were to resign, her action would have no impact all. Her stomach twists until it’s as taut as a drum.

  “The sooner the better,” says George. “Like tearing a bandage off a wound, it’s best to do it quickly.”

  This is awful.

  Looking hopelessly around the room, she cries, “Why aren’t Mr. Stryck and Dr. Edie here with you?” What is going on?

  Her father says, “Walt Edie is retiring. James Stryck has a very busy law practice. While he attends meetings of the board and the merger committee, he doesn’t need to get involved in the level of detail that Janice and I are addressing.”

  “Will Janice head the new school?”

  Janice replies, “The merger committee believes we need to find a new head—someone who isn’t associated with either institution—to lead the new school.”

  “Then what will your role be?” Harriet realizes she’s treading on ground that is none of her business, but she feels that Janice is more of a colleague than a boss.

  Her father says, “That remains to be determined.” Harriet doesn’t believe him. She thinks her father knows exactly what Janice will be doing in the new school.

  Janice smiles. She doesn’t seem nervous at all.

  As Harriet considers the implications of the impending changes, she starts to feel nauseated. She asks, “Will people lose their jobs?”

  “Perhaps a few,” he admits. “After all,” he adds defensively, “we’re looking to operate more efficiently.”

  “Who will make the decisions about staff?”

  His eyes dart over to Janice and then back to Harriet. “That’s enough, Harriet. This is confidential information—I trust you to keep it under your hat.”

  She glances at her watch. “I still have one class I’m responsible for—I need to go teach now.”

  As soon as she closes the door, she leans back against it and inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and inhales again, trying to calm herself before she has to face a room full of students who have no idea what’s coming.

  As soon as the school day ends, Harriet hurries over to her parents’ house in hopes of finding her mother there. Joey is at practice with his tennis team, so she doesn’t have to pick him up until five.

  Once she and her mother have settled on the porch with glasses of iced tea, she asks, “Did you know the merger is going forward?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you. George asked me not to speak to you about it because he wanted to tell you himself.”

  “They’re moving so fast!”

  “Apparently many schools around the country are looking at consolidation. The times are changing. Sometimes it seems that everything is changing.”

  “What if I lose my job? Father suggested there’ll be some streamlining, which must mean fewer administrative positions.” Clenching her fist, she says, “I’d hate to lose my job, Mother!”

  “I know, dearie. Perhaps you could return to teaching. You loved that.”

  “I did love teaching, but if I became a full-time teacher again, wouldn’t it feel like going backward? I enjoy being head of the upper school—I’m learning a lot, and I think I’ve done good work.” She knows she’s done well. She really liked working with the faculty to integrate the science and math curriculum into a much more logical sequence of courses, and she enjoyed being greeted by students in the halls.

  “From all I’ve heard, you’ve done a super job, Harriet. You’re supremely capable at everything you do.” She pauses. “Would you ever consider teaching at a college?”

  “I might need a PhD to do that, and I’m much too old to go back to school now.”

  “You aren’t even fifty yet. That sounds young to me!” Eleanor smiles fondly.

  “I’ll be f
ifty in a few more months.” Harriet extends her legs out in front of her, finally relaxing a little.

  “True enough.” Eleanor raises her glass and squints into it. “I seem to have missed some of the lemon seeds.”

  “I love your iced tea, Mother. The mint makes it especially good.”

  “Thank you.” She takes a sip. “When does Retta get home from Mt. Holyoke?”

  “Joey and I go get her this weekend. I can hardly wait.”

  “She likes college, doesn’t she?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had a letter from her, but she sounds happy. She appreciates the variety of courses and outside lecturers she has access to through the five-college consortium.” It’s a relief to think about her children instead of Hartley for a few minutes.

  “Bring Retta and Joey over for dinner once you’re back from Northampton. I’d love to hear all about Retta’s first year, as well as Joey’s plans. Has he started visiting colleges?”

  “Not yet. As soon as the kids get back from California, we’ll begin looking at the schools he’s interested in.”

  “I hope you’ll be at Sea View for the Fourth of July.”

  “Of course we will.” Harriet finishes her tea. Crossing her legs, she asks, “Has Father said much about Janice Braun? It seems the two of them are spending an awful lot of time together.” She doesn’t want to alarm her mother, but she feels uneasy about them.

  “I’m aware that they see each other with great frequency these days. I warned George not to let himself get too close to Janice.”

  Harriet’s glad to hear this. Should she tell her mother that Janice seemed positively flirtatious with her father?

  Eleanor adds, “We don’t need any more problems like that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We had some trouble during the war. Your father became involved with the woman who headed the Jewish Refugee Resettlement Committee, where he served as chairman of the board, and it took me months to realize what was going on. It wasn’t until I saw them together at a gala fundraiser that I understood he had fallen in love with Miriam. I pretended I didn’t know, hoping it would blow over, but even then it took me a long time to confront him.”