by Luanne Rice
“She told Belinda, and I heard her. It’s probably a lie.”
“It’s a definite fucking lie,” T.J. said. He didn’t know who he wanted to kill more, Emma or Belinda. He tore ass down Coleridge, without even saying goodbye to Sean. He slipped on a grease spot in his driveway, went down on his knees, and pounded up the back steps. Belinda was just taking off her jacket.
She looked up, surprised to see him. She took a step back and held her arm out, as if she could feel his anger and wanted to protect herself.
“Hey!” she said, frowning.
“What’s this big lie Emma’s spreading around?” T.J. asked, stepping forward menacingly.
Belinda dropped her arm. She gave him a long look, like she actually pitied him. That look scared T.J. so much, he couldn’t speak. He ran upstairs, dialed Alison’s number. He looked at his watch: she should be home. If she’d gone straight home, if she wasn’t meeting someone else, she should answer the phone now.
“Hello?” she said.
“Alison,” T.J. said, his relief so great he sat down hard on his bed.
“T.J., I thought you were going to call me later,” she whispered. He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding.
“I just had to tell you … I love you,” he said.
She giggled. “That’s so sweet. Me, too.”
He held the receiver so hard, he could just about feel his fingers denting the plastic. He wanted to tell her what he’d heard, but he couldn’t. She’ll think I don’t trust her, he told himself.
“T.J., I have to get ready to go shopping,” Alison said. “My mom’s waiting.”
“What time’ll you be home?” he asked.
“Oh, late. When the mall closes.”
“Have fun,” T.J. said.
“I will,” she whispered.
But as he hung up, T.J. admitted to himself the real reason for not telling Alison what he’d heard. It wasn’t that he feared she’d think he didn’t trust her; it was that he was afraid she wouldn’t deny she was seeing someone else.
Later, T.J. tried to concentrate on his math homework, but all he could do was doodle “Alison” in his notebook. He lay on his back, listening to Guns ‘n Roses, trying to take a deep breath. There’s no way Alison would do that to you, he said to himself. I’m all she has, she’s all I have.
“Alison,” he said out loud, just before he lifted the receiver. Belinda was on the extension.
“T.J., that you?” Belinda asked. Shit, she was probably going to give him away to their mother.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Go ahead, use the phone,” she said quickly. “Let me know when you’re done.”
“Hi, T.J.,” came Emma’s voice.
“Hi,” T.J. said, amazed when the girls instantly hung up instead of prolonging his agony.
His heart racing, he dialed Alison’s number.
“Hello?” Alison’s mother answered.
“Uh, hi, may I speak with Alison?” T.J. asked.
“She’s not home. She’s out for the evening,” Mrs. McCabe said breezily, seeming not to recognize T.J.’s voice, even though he’d called a hundred times. T.J. heard a man in the background calling her. “Come on, Shirley,” he said.
“Is there a message?” Mrs. McCabe asked, her voice laughing now, soft as a girl’s.
“No message,” T.J. said, hanging up.
“In my opinion, she is the lowest person in school,” Emma said hotly.
“Poor T.J. I know he knows,” Belinda said, sitting at the kitchen table. She should have been in bed by now, but this was an important call. “He came down for dinner and asked right away if he could be excused. My mom thinks he’s sick.”
“Did he talk to Alison? Not that she’d even admit it. T.J. is so much cuter than Martin. She probably only likes Martin because he’s a senior.”
“Are you positive about Alison?”
“One-hundred percent. I saw them, for one thing. Practically making out near the gym. And, Bel? They weren’t a bit tragic. She was giggling her head off in that sickeningly cute happy-flirtass way she used to have before she and T.J. got together.”
“I can’t believe you saw them,” Belinda said, even though Emma had told her the story sixteen times today.
“I saw them, all right. Plus, Chris Taylor told me she saw them on the bus home from the game. God, Martin Scoleri! He is such a jock!”
“Gross me out royal,” Belinda said.
“You should have seen her letting him tickle her. ‘Oh, Martin,’” Emma said, imitating Alison’s breathless little voice. ‘You’re so big and I’m so teensy. You could just break me in two.’”
“I wish he would,” Belinda said. She had hated that look in T.J.’s eyes when he’d asked to be excused from dinner. She couldn’t believe Alison McCabe had the power to do that to her older brother: squash him like a bug.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Emma said. “Alison did bring out the down side of T.J.”
“Yeah, but seeing him tonight, I think it’s worse than ever.”
“He’ll get over it. Don’t you know love hurts? God, Belinda! What radio station do you listen to, anyway?”
Belinda heard Emma cover the mouthpiece, some muffled conversation in the background, and then Emma’s voice again. “Bel? My mother wants to talk to your mother. Mother-daughter phone relay. See you tomorrow.”
“See you, Em. Mom! Telephone!”
“Did you get the call?” Bonnie asked.
“What call?”
“From Dad. About the wharf.”
Cass frowned at the phone. “He actually called you? I heard it in person, this morning.”
“Well, thanks for telling me!” Bonnie sounded irate, unlike herself.
“Do you think he’s serious?” Cass asked.
“He sounded serious to me,” Bonnie said. “He had Willis down, and they were figuring out the price per square foot.”
Cass rested her hand on the top of her head. This was news she didn’t want to hear. “Oh, God. Have you called Nora?”
“I tried before, but she wasn’t home.”
“I’ll try now,” Cass said.
After saying goodnight to Bonnie, she dialed Nora’s number. Willis answered.
“Hello, dear,” Willis said in his friendly southern drawl, recognizing her voice right away.
“Hi, Willis,” Cass said, prickling. She wanted to come straight out and accuse him of encouraging her father to sell the wharf. But she started off easy. “I hear you saw my father today.”
“Yes. He told me you were pretty upset about his plan.”
“He has a plan?” Cass asked, her heart falling.
“Well, not exactly. But he’s heard about people selling these old wharves and making a bundle, and he has it in mind to leave you girls with a nice nest egg.”
“I don’t want a nest egg!”
“Cass, I don’t know you very well yet, but that’s basically what I told him you’d say. You and Bonnie. I knew how Nora felt, of course. Completely, one-hundred-percent against it.”
“Is he serious?”
“Hard to say. He’s thought it over, I’ll tell you that. I stopped him a little short, telling him about a complex I’m building just up the bay from here. I paid big money to a guy whose family had owned the land for a hundred years, and now his salt-water farm’s going to be called Salt Marsh Village. Your father got a funny smile on his face, said you’d been teasing him about Keating’s Wharf being called Lobster Way.”
“I wasn’t teasing. I was pissed,” Cass said, frowning. “I still am.”
“He’s a sentimental man. He likes to hide it, though.”
“You see right through him,” Cass said, nodding. “Not many people do. I know Billy and Gavin were pretty intimidated at first.”
“A different situation, Cass,” Willis said. “They were a lot younger than I am. Plus, you have to remember that I deal with guys like your father all the time. People get older, and they think about letting go. They
want to leave some money for their kids, or they need to make a change in their lives, so they think about selling the family spread. Sometimes a drastic change is the easiest kind to make. You know when I acquire most of my property? When a person retires or has to face a nursing home.”
“Oh,” Cass said, realizing she liked Willis. Because he had obviously caught on to her difficult father, she felt reassured. A little, anyway.
“You want to talk to Nora?” Willis asked. “She’s right down the hall.”
“No thanks,” Cass said. “Just kiss her goodnight for me.”
“I’ll do that with pleasure,” Willis said.
Still uneasy, she hung up. She turned off the light and walked to the window.
You couldn’t see the harbor from here, but the Minturn Ledge Light beacon traced an arc over Alewives Park. Billy would have passed ten, maybe fifteen lighthouses on his way to the fishing grounds. All the old seaports with their lighthouses, fish piers, cobbled wharves, white steeples, sea captain’s houses. Billy, her sea captain. Cass thought of all the fishermen sailing a hundred miles out, returning time after time to the same old seaport.
Cass watched the beacon pass five more times, and then she turned away from the window. Billy and all the other Mount Hope fishermen. They needed to follow the same lights, set a course by the same markers. Cass had grown up believing that was how the world worked, and it was too late to change things now.
22
Billy returned from the first trip on his new boat ready to make a quick turnaround and head straight out again. This four-day voyage had been a tryout, a chance for him to test her in the open sea. She’d proved to be solid and responsive, and Billy felt exhilarated. As often as he’d imagined owning his own boat, he’d never expected to love her this much.
Billy told his crew to report back to the Cassandra the next day, in time to catch the 2:30 tide. Usually he’d allow more time between trips, but now that he’d seen what the boat could handle, he couldn’t wait to go fishing. He just had to load up with bait, fresh water, and diesel, and they’d be off.
Arriving at home that afternoon, he found Cass standing in the laundry room, pouring detergent into the washing machine. She didn’t see him right away. Clicking the dial, she moved as if in a daze. She looked straight at him, seeming not to see him. Then, suddenly, she laughed and came toward him.
“I’m so glad you’re home!” she said, kissing him. “How did she run?”
“Great,” he said. “Unbelievably fantastic. Like a dream.”
“Careful, or I’ll get jealous.”
Still high with excitement, Billy pushed Cass backward, against the machine. He gave her a long kiss, feeling the machine hum behind her.
“What were you thinking before, when I first came in?” Billy asked, stroking her back. He felt so happy, so turned on at seeing her, and she had appeared so distracted, he imagined she’d been thinking about him, lost in her own wild fantasies.
“You won’t believe it,” she said.
“Try me.”
“Dad’s planning to develop the wharf.”
Billy’s hand stopped moving. He forgot about his boat and about making love to Cass. Suddenly he saw the pain in his wife’s eyes.
“He’ll never do it,” Billy said, partly to comfort her and partly out of his own disbelief.
“Willis thinks he might.”
It was too bizarre to fathom, the possibility of Keating selling the wharf. Guiltily, Billy wondered if maybe he, by leaving the Keating fleet for his own boat, had somehow precipitated this. Billy held Cass tight.
“Maybe nothing will come of it,” she said after a minute. “I can drive myself crazy, thinking about it. Condos? On our wharf! Dad’s got it all figured out.”
Billy shook his head. “We can’t blame it on senility—he’s not there yet.”
“At first, I wanted to blame it on Willis. But I think it’s actually all Dad’s idea.” She paused, calming herself down. “Probably nothing will come of it. I mean, he does have a tendency to … make grand gestures. He can’t just retire, like a normal old guy. He has to erase every trace of himself from the waterfront.”
Billy laughed. “Right, that’s probably it. Your father is the waterfront.”
“It’s been really hard, not having you to talk to about it.”
“I know what that’s like,” Billy said. Away for weeks at a time, he would sometimes feel so lonely for Cass, he’d think he couldn’t stand it.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” she said.
Billy knew this was the time to tell her that he wouldn’t be here for long, that he planned to leave tomorrow for a long trip, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Not right now, not when she needed his comfort. Instead, he held her, touching her face, listening to her tell him how much she needed him.
Cass let Billy sleep late. She fixed hot cereal for the kids, got T.J. and Belinda out the door, and helped Josie dress herself. Maybe later she and Billy could drive down to the wharf, have a talk with her father. But right now, she had her mind on something else. She moved quietly, not wanting to awaken Billy. She had an ulterior motive: Zach was coming, and she didn’t want Billy to leave before he arrived.
When Zach pulled up, Cass met him at the door. “Hey, is that your husband’s truck?” he asked, pointing.
“Yes,” Cass said.
“You know, I’ve never met him,” Zach said.
“This’ll be your chance.”
Cass watched Zach and Josie sign “hello” to each other. The three of them sat at the kitchen table. While Cass sipped coffee and watched, Zach and Josie worked on the alphabet. Within twenty minutes, she heard Billy’s footsteps upstairs.
“Whew,” he said. “Thanks for letting me sleep.” He entered the kitchen, tucking his shirt into his jeans.
“Billy, this is Zach,” Cass said.
Billy looked startled, but he put out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Medieros,” Zach said.
“Daddy!” Josie squealed, reaching up so Billy would bend over to kiss her.
“Morning, Josie,” Billy said. Josie couldn’t hear him, and she couldn’t see his lips, which were kissing the top of her head. Cass watched Zach, to see how he would react. Funny, she thought, how Zach felt like an ally now. Zach understood deaf children, and Billy did not. Cass hoped that somehow Zach could help.
“What do we have here?” Billy asked, shuffling the flashcards. “ABC’s.”
Josie signed, “A-B-C-D-E-F …” But Billy turned away, to pour a cup of coffee, before she got to “G.” Cass watched Josie’s face fall. Josie pouted, her lower lip sticking out.
“Zach, can I get you some coffee?” Billy asked.
“No thanks.”
“Billy,” Cass said, “Josie was showing you her ABC’s.”
“Oh, sorry,” Billy said. He reddened slightly, glancing at Zach. “I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to read sign language.”
“That’s understandable,” Zach said.
“I sit in every day,” Cass said, “and Josie’s way ahead of me.” She wanted to reassure Billy, but she could tell by his expression that he still felt uncomfortable.
“We’re never going to catch up,” Billy said, a little sharply. “How are we going to know what she’s saying?”
“All parents of deaf kids worry about that,” Zach said. “At North Point they have support groups, seminars, classes to help you deal with it. They’ll tell you about it when you visit.”
“Visit?” Billy asked, looking confused.
“We have an appointment at North Point,” Cass said. “Just to check the place out.”
“When?”
“The Monday before Thanksgiving. A week from today.”
“I won’t be back by then,” he said. “I’ll be fishing.”
“When are you leaving?” Cass asked, getting that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Billy s
tared into his coffee, stirring it slowly. “This afternoon,” he said.
A tense silence fell over the table. Sensing it, Josie stopped signing. She looked from her mother to her father.
“Come on, Josie,” Zach said. “Let’s go to our classroom.” He meant the sun porch, where he and Josie did most of their work.
“They’re mad,” Josie said, following him reluctantly.
“I didn’t tell you last night,” Billy said to Cass, “because you seemed so upset about your father.”
“Shit, Billy,” Cass said. A wave of disappointment washed over her. She realized how much she had been counting on him—to help her know how serious her father was, to talk to Jimmy himself, to visit North Point with her.
“I have four guys showing up this afternoon,” Billy said regretfully, as if he expected her to believe he was going out strictly for the well-being of four fishermen.
“You’re the skipper,” Cass said. “Send them home.”
“They’re counting on this trip, to get their cuts. With the holidays coming …”
“What about me? Can’t I count on you?”
Billy gave her a long, serious stare. “You’re not being fair. This is what I do for a living.”
“I don’t want you to go,” she said. “I know it’s unreasonable, but it’s how I feel. I’ve been doing too much alone for too long. I don’t want to visit North Point without you.”
“You can reschedule the appointment.”
Something about his tone made Cass look at him more carefully. “What?” she asked.
“This North Point place is a lousy idea,” he said. “I’ve told you all along—that signing business will isolate her.”
“She can’t hear, Billy. That’s what isolates her.”
“She has a loving family, she’s healthy. Why do you want to shut her off in a place like that?”
“She’s not going to live there! And how do you know what it’s like? ‘A place like that.’ Like what?”
“They’ll cut her off, Cass. She’ll be totally separate from us. She doesn’t need that.”
“You’re not here enough to know what she needs,” Cass said, suddenly overcome by a red fury.
Billy walked to the sink, sloshed water in his coffee cup, left it on the drainboard. He turned toward Cass, his back against the sink. “Are we going to do this now? Have a big fight when I have to leave for ten days?”
