“And what didyouget in return for all of that? Do you ever think about that, Mom?”
Suddenly Abigail is there, a bright blade of grass among the mushrooms. She takes one of Louisa’s hands and one of Annie’s, and Louisa marvels at the coolness of her daughter’s fingers, and thinks again about the piano.
“Now I’m hungry,” says Abigail. “Can we eat?”
Annie meets Louisa’s eyes over Abigail’s head—or would have, if Louisa had lifted her sunglasses, which, for a variety of reasons, she leaves in place.
“I got this,” says Annie. “I got to be your mother, and grandmother to your children.”
14.
The Children
Matty is stretching his right quad just outside the front door when Louisa says through the screen door, “Do you mind keeping an eye on Claire while Granny and I take Abigail to the Farnsworth?”
Matty drops his right leg to the ground and lifts his left. He can feel how taut the muscles of his abdomen are; he can count his ribs when he looks in the mirror wearing only his running shorts. His heart, tight as a fist, and strong as one, is an efficient machine. His resting heart rate is fifty-five. His long run is up to eight miles. He’ll get it to twelve before summer is over. “Why do I have to?”
“Because I’m asking you to,” says Louisa. “Unless you were hoping to go to the Farnsworth too.”
“Definitelynot.” He says this because he knows his mother loves the Farnsworth, and he is angry with her. Even though nobody has come right out and said it, he knows it’s her fault his dad isn’t here.
“All right then. Claire doesn’t want to go either. So, you don’t have to rearrange your day around it, just be here in case she needs anything.”
“Why me?”
“Because neither of you wants to go to the museum! And I can’t ask Grandpa.” A muscle in his mother’s cheek twitches when she says this.
“What about Pauline?”
“Child care isn’t in her job description. She’ll make you two lunch, but I can’t ask her tobabysit.”
Matty bristles. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Exactly. And anyway, you and Claire usually have fun together. I’m not asking you to pull out your own toenails, or anyone else’s either.”
Matty wants to argue with this, but he can’t. He and Clairedoget along, often better than Abigail and Claire get along. She can be a pest, sometimes, and she’sso muchyounger than he is, but he can see a time in the dim, distant future, when they are adults, or when Claire is in college, that they’ll hang out in bars or whatever. Claire will probably turn out way cooler that Matty—she’llprobably tellhimwhere the good bars are. That’s Claire for you.
“I was going for a run.” He’s talking now from upside down, his upper body hanging over his lower.
His mother eases herself out the screen door and stands next to him on the little front stoop. He straightens, and all of the blood rushes from his head back down to his feet. “So go for your run. We won’t leave until after you’re back. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Thank you, kiddo.” She touches him on the shoulder and he flinches, on purpose, to throw off her hand. He tries not to notice the hurt look on her face, but he can’t help it. His mother when she’s hurt looks a lot like Abigail before she starts crying. Their light eyes fill up fast: it’s like looking into a swimming pool.
“Matty,” she says. “That was harsh.”
“Sorry,” he mutters.
Not long after their mother and grandmother and sister go off to the Farnsworth Matty and Claire sit in the dining room, making a plan for the day. They are playing UNO, but not putting much effort into it. They haven’t shuffled well enough and all of the cards are coming up green. Should they have gone to the Farnsworth after all? No. They both find museums so boring. They don’t understand Abigail’s interest.
Annie and Louisa and Abigail will be gone through lunch and into the early afternoon. They’ll eat in town. Matty and Claire will get their lunch from Pauline. They hope for grilled cheese, which Pauline has a knack for.
“You two,” says Pauline, coming in with a rag to wipe the breakfast crumbs from the table. “You’re underfoot. Go on and play outside.”
“It’s foggy—” begins Claire.
“Come back at lunchtime, how about that? But clean up these cards first.”
