“You’ve only had them for two afternoons,” Susan reminded Willow. “Wait until you’ve spent a week with them.”
“If they get bored, I’ll walk them into town for ice cream, or we can go to Children’s Beach,” Willow added.
“If it rains,” Mimi told her, “bring your tribe over to our house. There’s a Ping-Pong table in the basement.”
“Awesome!” Willow cried. “I love Ping-Pong!”
“Alfred is too young for Ping-Pong,” Susan mused. “He isn’t tall enough yet.”
“I’ll take them shopping,” Willow said. “The Sunken Ship has cool toys….”
“Alfred likes monster trucks,” Susan told her.
“But, Mimi!” Willow suddenly looked distressed. “When will I be able to read to you? I forgot, we’re right in the middle of The Age of Innocence!”
“I don’t work on Mondays or on weekends,” Susan quickly informed them, worried.
“There you are, then,” Mimi said, soothing them with her easy voice. “You can read to me on Mondays and weekends—if you don’t need the time for yourself.”
Darcy settled back in her chair, letting the conversation fade into the background, enjoying the moment, the three other women of all ages leaning toward one another, sharing information, making plans, talking of yarn and toys. The pinpoints of light gave an air of mystery and drama to their faces, a kind of depth. It was as if this conversation could be taking place a hundred years ago, or fifty years from now. Women would always plot about childcare and knitting.
She especially enjoyed watching Willow. Her long auburn hair was twisted up in back and held with a clasp so that much of it stuck out in all directions from the top of her head, like a spout. She wore cutoffs, flip-flops, and a blue T-shirt with the joke logo Nantucket University. Willow was animated as she talked, completely at ease, laughing and waving her arms and shouting “No way!” or “Totally!” at something Mimi or Susan said. She was a sweet, funny girl, and Darcy was fond of her. More than that, she felt proud of her for making such an about-face in such a brief period of time from baby bombshell needing the attention and sexual lessons of Logan to this child/young woman, comfortable hanging around with old ladies. She felt connected to Willow—and just at that moment, as if the girl had intuited Darcy’s thoughts, Willow flashed a grin full of affection at Darcy before returning to the conversation with Susan and Mimi.
But when Darcy looked at Susan, a little midge of worry buzzed in Darcy’s thoughts. Boyz was gone five days of the week, working in Boston, leaving the bounteous Autumn free. If Susan was ensconced in the yarn shop, and her boys were with Willow, that meant that Otto was free to go anywhere to do anything with anyone.
To do anything.
But really, what business was it of hers? She liked Susan, and would hate to see her hurt, but Darcy had no real idea of Susan and Otto’s relationship. Other people’s marriages held private pacts and arrangements so intimate they were kept hidden from everyone else, even from the children. Maybe Susan would be relieved to have the tyrannical Otto release his energies on another woman. And would it surprise Darcy at all if Boyz, up in Boston for the week, had a mistress? Ha.
“Darcy?” Mimi’s voice broke into her thoughts. “You look like you’re fading.”
“Oh, sorry, I guess I was thinking about work tomorrow…” Darcy looked around the table. “Would anyone like some lemonade?
“Goodness, no,” Mimi said. “As it is, I have to get up fifty times a night….”
“Well, I should get some rest,” Willow stated with dramatically fake self-importance, “because I have to do two story times tomorrow and babysit three wild boys for three hours.”
The women wandered off, tossing kisses, saying good nights, walking beneath the arbor and home. Darcy switched off the lights and the magical glow vanished. Darkness fell on her backyard. She wasn’t tired yet. She didn’t want to watch television or read. She enjoyed her new friends immensely, but she always had needed a moment or two of solitude. She returned to her lounger and sank back, looking up at the starry sky.
“Good night,” Willow called.
Three doors banged shut. Silence fell.
From beneath a large hydrangea, Muffler came slinking out. He jumped on Darcy’s lap, claiming his rightful territory. Darcy ran her hand over his long silky fur and his low satisfying purr lulled her like a lullaby.
15
Hey, Darcy. Want to get together tomorrow night? I’m going sports fishing with some guys this weekend.