“Oh I am, a bit.”
“Why? Am I not enough for you?”
“Of course you are.” I rested my head on the window. “Yesterday was my mother’s fiftieth birthday.”
“Tough day for you?”
“No, actually. I forgot. I forgot it was her birthday until this morning. I should have done something for her.”
“It’s not too late,” Arthur said. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“No, she’d understand, and that almost makes it worse.”
Arthur nodded. He thought he understood, which was fine with me. “What is it with you and your mother?”
For a moment I was transported back to the hospital. I saw my mother lying in the bed surrounded by stern-faced nurses, my father’s own grim face, the lights bleeping all around her. “Her illness is frightening. Sometimes I worry that I’ll get it. I’ll find myself in the hospital, unable to eat, starved to skin and bone. She was such a beautiful woman, but last time I saw her she just looked old.”
“I thought she had lupus.”
“She does.”
“But you just said…”
“Are you listening? Because that’s all I need right now. Not an inquisition.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sometimes lupus attacks the nervous system. Sometimes it makes people irrational and violent. My mother hallucinates.”
“Doesn’t it just give her headaches and make her tired?”
“Usually,” I said. “She has a rare form of the disease.” I looked out the window and Arthur knew enough to keep quiet, that the conversation was over.
Boris had gone missing on a Tuesday. On Thursday, Ann called the police. And she called me. Almost hourly. I was involved in a constant battle against the rising water. The basement was flooded to my knees, the floor of the house was squishy, the bathroom one big, cold shower. I left my towel on a chair outside the door. I had to run from hot water through cold water, or use the umbrella. I wore a raincoat onto the toilet. The endless rain and endless ringing of the phone were conspiring to drive me crazy. But I was lucky. Many people in Maine had had to leave their homes. Animals too. The rising water table had brought an onslaught of displaced rodents, which Kevin, bless his canine heart, had taken on. After finding a mouse—dead—in my slipper with my naked foot, I had started checking all my shoes before putting them on. Still, the mice leaped from the cabinets, scuttled out from behind the coffee, scrabbled around in walls and at night, chewed at some beam right above the bed in the bedroom. Arthur and I were exhausted and Kevin’s nerves worn raw. And this after only three days of rain. The forecast predicted more.
There was some sort of open gutter that ran by the side of the house like a seasonal brook. I thought it might be full of leaves so I put on my coat and went out, with Kevin, to see if there was something I could do. Arthur had gone to Builders Square to buy some tarps. He was going to tack them onto the roof over the bathroom. The rain had washed the snow off the bushes. Birds were flying around now—fish in the air. I pulled a few handfuls of composting vegetation from the gutter, but it didn’t look like the gutter had been blocked. Then, while on my knees, I heard an ominous creaking. I looked up just in time to see a glacier-sized plate of snow sliding off the roof toward me. I jumped back just in time and the snow slid onto the ground with a massive boom. Kevin, whose anxiety had been a problem, was taken by surprise and shot off in the direction of the woods. Two hours later, he was still at large, and when Arthur came back from town with the tarps and some groceries, I was concerned. I had a bag of Doritos in one hand and the umbrella in the other.
“Kevin’s gone,” I said. “I’ve been calling him for ages.”
“What are the Doritos for?”
“Kevin.” I must have looked desparate.
“Go inside. Take a break,” said Arthur. “I’ll find him.”
Inside, the phone was ringing again. I was feeling emotional and raw, and I suppose it made me generous. I might have some kind words for Ann, who was still searching passionately for Boris. I’d tell her that he might have gone to Russia. He had said something about his father being ill—this the father who had had two heart attacks in the last six months. Maybe Boris, in a fit of filial duty, had gone to visit him. Who knew?
I picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Katherine. How are you?”
My hand went numb. It was not Ann who was calling. It was not Ann, but my father. My father, who I had managed to avoid for nearly two years.
“How are you?” I returned.
“I am quite well, thank you.”
“Glad to hear it.” There was silence. “Dad, why are you calling?”
“I understand you have suffered a loss.”
“I have?”
“Silvano, your husband.”
“I appreciate your sympathy but, really… This is not a good time for me to talk.”
“Katherine. Katherine. You must talk to me. You see, I am very concerned.”
I owed this intrusion to Rand Randley. Boris had given Rand my father’s information back when the deed to the Hidalgo Ranch had passed into my hands. Now, Rand was in possession of Silvano’s jewelry and he wanted to get it to me. Boris wasn’t answering his phone because Boris wasn’t there, so Rand, after a week had gone by, had thought to contact my father. My father had been reserved with Rand, but after getting off the phone with him, did a Google search on Silvano’s name. I suppose after reading an article in Newsday (which went into splendid detail) he had thought he should call me. Parental support and all that.
“Dad, I’m all right. Really I am.”
“I had my secretary look into the local Portland papers.”
“Why?”
“Who is John Nelson?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of him.”
“He died recently, in Maine.”
“John Nelson? I swear I’ve never met him.”
“Katherine, don’t lie to me.”
“John Nelson.”
“He was from New Mexico.”
“Oh, you mean Johnny. His last name was Nelson?” I’d always thought it had to be something like Runningdeer or Blackwater. I took the phone to the window and looked out at the deluge. “He drowned face down in a puddle. It was awful, but I’m all right now. I’m living with my boyfriend. He’s a musician. We’re very happy.” I saw Arthur coming out of the woods. He had Kevin with him and was looking up at the house.
“I think maybe I should come visit.”
“No.” I said. “Out of the question.”
“Katherine, we need to talk.”
“No. Leave me alone. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? I don’t give a fuck about ‘reasonable.’ I’m all grown up. I don’t need you. I have my own money. I don’t think you’re really concerned about me and I don’t know why you’re calling.”
“I think you know why I’m calling.”
“No, I don’t. I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t hang up.”
And I hung up.
Arthur came in with the dog, who seemed very happy to have been rescued. He ran up to me and put his muddy paws all over my jeans. I patted his head.
“Katherine,” said Arthur, “are you all right?”
“I’m fucking fantastic.”
“Did something happen?”
I shrugged my shoulders and was about to tell him when the phone rang again. Before I could tell him not to, Arthur answered. I waved an emphatic “no.”
“Hello? No. She’s not here right now,” he said. “Can you repeat the name? Okay. Hold on a second.” Arthur drew in the air with an invisible pen and I found him a pencil and an unopened bill to write on. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll get this to her as soon as possible. I understand. Some urgency.” Arthur shrugged at me. “Yes. I’m sure she’ll call you right back.” But Arthur did not know that at all. He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Okay. Bye. Yeah. No problem. Bye.”