driving, going anywhere.
Just like someone who had lost her lover or her
dearest friend. Mommy sat on the small loggia at the
rear of the beach house. She didn't want to watch the movers bringing the Eatons' belongings. She had met the couple at our attorney's office only a few weeks ago to finalize the lease agreement, and she told me they were silly people made even more
inconsequential by their apparent wealth,
"The woman giggles a lot. She insists she be
called Bunny, and her husband. Asher, looks like he's
never had to do anything more than lift a toilet seat his
whole life."
She shook herself as if to shake off a bad chill.
"Winston must be spinning in his grave. I've let him
down as well as ourselves. I don't care if I never set
foot off this property. I shudder to think of myself
running into the Carriage sisters or any of the people I
know. I swear. Grace. I'll just burst into tears the
moment they say hello because I'll know just what's
behind those artificial smiles. They think I deserve
this. They'll all be so smug."
I didn't say anything. I listened just the way Dr.
Anderson listened to me when I spoke to him in his
office. my face empty of any expression that could be
interpreted as some sort of judgment, while inside
myself I was screaming. "It's time to tell her! It's time
to tell her!"
I tried to choose the best possible moment. One night, nearly a week after we had been moved into the beach house. Mommy seemed to have come to a point where she was accepting our new status. She had successfully made one of the veal dishes Daddy used to love, and that put her in a good mood. Most of our dinner conversation was about him, or rather. I should say, most of her conversation was about him. I just sat there listening. One of her remembrances gave me the
opening I needed.
She was telling me how she had revealed to
him she was pregnant, "We had been trying, of
course, and shortly before. I had gone for an
examination and test he had been shipped off for a