One night, as she placed a platter of lamb chops in the center of the table, David wailed, “Oh, no, not again!”
“What?”
“We had those last night,” Chris informed her complainingly.
She stared at the meat for a moment, and then snapped, “Your father likes lamb chops. Now start eating or you’ll both go to your room.”
At the market she found herself taking the same shopping list item from the shelves twice and then discovering the duplicate at the checkout counter. While driving, she failed to notice lights when they changed to green, was constantly being snapped out of her thoughts of Larry by the sharp honk of horns behind her. At the bank she failed to make a covering deposit in the checking account, with the result that two checks came back marked INSUFFICENT FUNDS.
In July she bought herself a pair of knee-length hose because they were on sale and because she liked the color. When she got home, she realized she hadn’t even looked at the size before snatching them from the counter. The socks were three sizes too small for her. She found herself forgetting to leave notes for the milkman, forgetting social appointments, forgetting to return overdue books to the library. And all the while, the one thing she wanted to forget remained immovable in a dark corner of her mind.
When her mother asked her to come out to the beach at Easthampton for a few days in the beginning of August, she leaped at the opportunity. As was usually the case, Mrs. Harder’s invitation had certain limitations and conditions. The beach house was thronged with her own friends on weekends, so any weekend was out of the question. The twins had invited some girl friends for Wednesday and Thursday on condition that they’d leave early Friday morning. In any, case, those two days were struck off the calendar.
“So when would you like to come, darling?” Mrs. Harder asked.
“Friday,” Eve said.
“Eve, I just told you I’ll be having other guests. It’ll have to be next week sometime, I guess. Perhaps Monday or...”
“Do you have a single bed somewhere?”
“What do you mean?”
“A bed I can sleep in.”
“Well, of course, I have a bed you can sleep in. But you’re four people counting Larry and the children. I can’t put you all in one—”
“I want to come out alone, Mama,” Eve said.
“Alone?”
There was a long silence on the line.
Then Mrs. Harder said, “Is anything wrong?”
“No. I just feel like getting away by myself for a few days.”
There was another silence.
Mrs. Harder said, “Darling, if something’s wrong...”
“No, Mama. Do you have a bed for me?”
“Come whenever you like, Eve,” Mrs. Harder said. “Come today if you like.”
“I’ll be there Friday afternoon.”
“All right.” Mrs. Harder paused. “Eve...” she said.
“Yes?”
“You’re not pregnant again, are you?”
“No, Mama.”
“All right, then, I’ll see you Friday. Bring some heavy sweaters. It gets cool at night.”
When she presented the idea to Larry, he accepted it readily, agreeing a few days’ rest was just what she needed. Perhaps she was hoping for an objection from him — but none came.
On Thursday night he helped her pack. And at eight o’clock on a Friday morning in the first week of August, Eve drove away from the house in Pinecrest Manor. It was the first time she’d been separated from her husband in the eight years of their marriage.
There was, not far from the development, a children’s amusement area called Joyland.
Joylessly built on two acres of back-topped ground, Joyland boasted its own parking lot and restaurant, and rides ranging from the carousel to a miniature roller coaster. On Saturday, her housework finished, Don busy in the back yard planting shrubs around the new patio, Maggie drove her son to the small-scale amusement park. Patrick had been to Joyland perhaps fifty times since they’d moved into the development, but he never tired of the place. Vicariously, she shared in his childish joy, grinning at him as the carousel whirled by, putting her hand to her mouth when he shrieked on the Whip.
She persuaded him to take a breather by buying him an ice-cream cone in the Joyland restaurant. They were walking outdoors again when she spotted Larry. At first she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her mouth opened in a small surprised “Oh.” She smiled, her cheek dimpling, took Patrick’s free hand and fairly dragged him to where Larry was standing with his sons.
He turned to her in astonishment. “Maggie! What—”
“Hi,” she said. “Oh, hi, hi!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Chris,” Patrick said.
“Hello, Patrick.”
“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked.
“I just thought I’d take the kids—” He shrugged, grinning happily.
“This’s my little brother,” Chris said. “His name’s David.”
“Hi,” David said. He looked at Patrick cautiously.
“Hi,” Patrick answered.
“He’s three,” Chris said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m three,” David said.
“So I’m five.”
“So I’m three,” David said, “Chris is five.”
“I don’t have any brothers,” Patrick said.
“Well, I got a brother,” David said, “and anyway, I’m almost four.”
“So what?” Patrick said. “Do you go to school?”
“He’s too small for school,” Chris said.
“I’m gonna go to nursery school maybe,” David said, frowning.
“That ain’t real school,” Patrick said. “I went on the Whip and everything,” he added, dismissing David and turning to Chris.
“Hey, Dad, can we go on the rides?” Chris asked excitedly.
“Sure, sure,” Larry said.
He bought tickets, and they put all three children on a ride with miniature tanks and noisy machine guns.
“You look beautiful, Mag,” he said. “If I’d known you could get away...”
“Don was busy out back. I didn’t even tell him I was leaving.” She paused. “Have you been managing all right?”
“Yes, fine.”
“When’s she coming back?”
“Monday night.”
They were leaning on the grilled railing which fenced in the tank ride. He covered her hand with his, and she glanced hastily over her shoulder and then turned back to him.
“Did you put up a struggle when she asked to go?”
“No.”
“Do you think she might return the courtesy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think you might be able to get away for a few days?”
He was silent for a moment. “Maybe.”
“I might be able to.”
“When?”
She shrugged. “You name it.”
“Would he let you go?”
“You let Eve go, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll let me go.”
“It’ll have to be after the Altar house is finished.”
“Whenever you say,” she said.
“The ride’s over. Here they come.”
The children emerged from their tanks like troops come to liberate France. David, in the presence of the older boys, walked with a particularly cocky swagger. In an aside to Chris, he whispered, “Don’t tell him I wet the bed.” They swarmed about Larry and Maggie, and then ran off in three separate directions, heading for the rides of their choice. Larry and Maggie rounded them up and deposited them together on a ride which featured motorboats in water. David complained because he got the back seat of a boat Patrick was steering.