Claire couldn’t answer. She couldn’t take his dreams. Shecouldn’t allow them, either.
“Are you?”
She had nowhere else to turn. No one to help her. Only her son, who battled her with dreams and yearnings andpassions. Only her son whom she would have given her lifeto save.
“No.”
He turned without another word and walked from thekitchen, and Claire knew she’d been wrong. He wouldn’tchange his mind. He wouldn’t back down. And she was leftstanding alone with all the ghosts he’d resurrected pullingher down.
Tony spent a long time in the kitchen with Claire thatnight. Pete shuffled downstairs at about ten to sit at the table in silence, and Claire rubbed his back and gave him a cupof hot chocolate. Johnny hovered, obviously distressed,until Claire shoved him out the door with Jess and Gina fora movie. She went about the business of housework withTony’s help as if it were perfectly normal to have Pete at hertable, and after a while it worked. The boy relaxed a little.Talked a little. Cried a little when his friend and idol wassafely away and couldn’t see him. Claire dealt with it all withpragmatic empathy, until finally at about midnight Petegave out and went back to bed.
Tony was amazed. He was humbled. She made the art ofcompassion look so effortless, when he could see the toll ofthe day in her eyes. He could tell what an effort it had beensimply to appear purposeful, after Pete had gone up to bedand Claire slowed to an abrupt halt.
Tony sat with her. He talked to her and listened to her silences and wished he could tell her who he was going to talkto tomorrow. She didn’t want to talk about herself, though.She didn’t want to talk at all. It was up to Tony to fill thespaces in the conversation, and Tony did so. It was up tohim to pour the drinks and watch for the kids, becauseClaire was distracted and fidgety. She trembled and shestared as if she didn’t really see him there, and finally when the kids had come home and gone up to bed, when the winewas gone and the owl had begun calling, she got to her feet and kissed him good-night and walked up to her own roomalone.
Tony listened to her house for a while before headingacross the lawn. He watched her light from his small roomand waited, praying she’d change her mind and walk acrossthe grass. He waited a long while, but she didn’t come. She didn’t turn off the light. He fell asleep still waiting for herto settle in for the night, and woke to find her already gone.
Once again he met Mary Louise Bethany at a Denny’srestaurant on Highway 60. Once again she brought her cigarettes and her pragmatism to the meeting. Tony bummeda cigarette and bolstered himself on her common sense.
“I told her you’d probably be calling this morning,” she advised, passing across the slip of paper with the name andphone number on it.
“I’ll probably call from the car phone when I get out ofhere,” he agreed. “I don’t like making these calls from the inn. Not until Claire’s ready to participate.”
“You said she started asking about the group. That’sgood. I told you, I’d be happy to go there and meet her, ifshe’s hesitant at all.”
“I’ll suggest it to her.”
Mary Louise nodded. She sighed. “Tell her I know how she feels. Please tell her that, Mr. Riordan. She needs toknow.”
“Hopefully you’ll get to tell her yourself soon,” he said,grinding out the cigarette he’d only half smoked. “I’mhoping that Peggy Williams does the trick.”
Peggy Williams Peterson, RN, MSN, CCRN, cofounderof the women’s support group in Little Rock, charter member of the Women Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial Committee. Staff nurse in OR and neuro, Ninety-first EvacHospital, Chu Lai, 1969. Claire’s roommate. Tony put thecall through from a park halfway home and was relieved tohear another pragmatic, compassionate voice.
“You were one of her cases?” she asked without any realsurprise. “Sure. She did that all the time. Picked one guyout of a shipment, no rhyme or reason, and stuck to him likedog dirt. Harassed him right out the door. We used to call them ‘Claire’s kids.’”
“That’s what I thought,” Tony admitted. “She says shedoesn’t remember it at all.”
The answer was slow in coming. “I’m not surprised,” shesaid. “You forget a lot of stuff when you have to. I forgotthe name of the chopper pilot I was engaged to. He went outon a support mission into the highlands and never cameback, and he disappeared from the annals of Peggy Williams’s history. If you want to understand it better, ask herwho the kid was.”
“Kid? What kid?”
“Whichever one it was that was finally too much. We all had one. Mine was a burn victim who lasted a month. I can still hear him when it rains out. Can’t remember his name, but I remember him. Each nurse has one. The one patientthat ruined her. Claire has one, too. Ask her who it was.”
“Don’t you know?”
“Nope. I didn’t know who mine was until I started group.Never realized what was going on at the time. But then, inthose days, I was spending all my time either keeping my head down or balancing it over a toilet.”
“What would you think of coming out and talking to Claire yourself?”
“I can be there by dinner if you need me. Claire got methrough that hellhole. The least I can do is share the load.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Peterson. I can’t tell you what thismeans to me.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you just send a card?”
