Here on Earth
Page 75
Louise Justice had gotten up and slapped Susie across the face. Louise had never hit anyone before, but she hit Susie so hard she left a mark on her cheek, making certain to silence her daughter before she could divulge anything more.
“You don’t know the first thing about love,” Louise Justice had told Susie that night. “And you certainly don’t know anything about marriage.”
This assessment is probably still true, Susie thinks as she takes off her clothes and gets into bed with Ed Milton later that night. She circles her arms around Ed and kisses him. Does she love him or not? How will she ever know? She loves the way he is in bed, she trusts his opinions, values what he thinks, yearns to see him at odd hours of the day. So what does all that add up to?
Look at the trouble love brings. Look at the mess it makes. Who knows what caused Belinda to marry Hollis—bad judgment or compassion or desire, maybe even loneliness. Who can tell why March would throw everything away for a worthless man, or why Bill Justice, the most honest man in town, would tell bold-faced lies every day of his life. There, in Ed Milton’s bed. Susanna Justice suddenly needs to know if she’s the only one so completely in the dark about such matters. Ed is honest; he’ll tell the truth. His back is to her, and the hour is late, but she asks Ed anyway. Have you ever been in love? She’s certain that he laughs when he turns to her, but in the morning she can’t quite remember if he actually said, Not before, or if, perhaps, that was only what she wanted to hear.
17
On Saturday morning, Gwen hurries to meet Hank at the coffee shop, so rushed for time that she forgets to touch the Founder’s knee for luck as she runs past the statue. Hank left a note taped to Tarot’s stall for her to find when she went to feed and groom the horse earlier, inviting her to meet him for breakfast.
He’s at a rear booth, and Gwen tosses herself into the seat across from him. “What’s the occasion?” She grins. “Is it your treat?”
“For once.” Hank hands her a menu. “He’s actually paying me to do some work, so I figured I’d take you out.”
Gwen notices then, there’s a cardboard box on the floor beside the booth. Inside are cans of paint and rollers.
“He’s fixing up the house,” Hank explains.
“Mr. Cheapskate? Hard to believe.” Gwen peruses her menu. “Ooh,” she says. “Banana-nut pancakes.”
“He wants to impress someone.”
Gwen puts her menu down. This is more than a date for breakfast. Hank has something he wants to tell her. “My mother?”
Hank nods, then orders for them both when Alison Hartwig, their waitress, comes over.
“He wants your mom to move in with him,” Hank says when the waitress moves on. “He’s planning on it.”
“She won’t.” Gwen sounds sure of herself, but she has a funny feeling in her stomach.
“I’m painting the upstairs bedroom today,” Hank says. “Linen white.”
“Fuck him,” Gwen says.
“Yeah, well,” Hank murmurs, torn between the two of them.
“I’m glad you warned me,” Gwen tells him.
Of course she can’t eat when their food is served; the idea of living in Hollis’s house makes her completely sick. She wanders through town when Hank goes back to finish painting, and sits on a bench in the town square beneath the bare linden trees. She has the feeling that she’s on a train that’s going full speed, and whether she stays on board or jumps off doesn’t matter. Either way, she’ll crash.
When Gwen gets back to Fox Hill in the afternoon, she finds her mother working at the kitchen table. It’s cold in the house, and March is wearing two sweaters and two pairs of wool socks as she sets flat pieces of turquoise into a bracelet she plans to use as a sample piece at the crafts store in the village, and perhaps show to some jewelry stores down in Boston.
“It is freezing in here,” Gwen says. She keeps her ski jacket on and zipped.
“I know. Something’s wrong with the heat. Hollis came over to check it out, and the whole system may need to be replaced.”
He probably broke it himself, Gwen thinks. Just the first of many good reasons for them to move in with him. “Maybe I should call that guy Ken and see if he can fix it,” she suggests.
“No, don’t,” March says. “Hollis thinks Ken charges too much. He’ll fix it himself.”
Gwen bets he’ll do precisely that. He’ll fix it so they’ll freeze to death in their beds if they stay.
“You don’t know the first thing about love,” Louise Justice had told Susie that night. “And you certainly don’t know anything about marriage.”
This assessment is probably still true, Susie thinks as she takes off her clothes and gets into bed with Ed Milton later that night. She circles her arms around Ed and kisses him. Does she love him or not? How will she ever know? She loves the way he is in bed, she trusts his opinions, values what he thinks, yearns to see him at odd hours of the day. So what does all that add up to?
Look at the trouble love brings. Look at the mess it makes. Who knows what caused Belinda to marry Hollis—bad judgment or compassion or desire, maybe even loneliness. Who can tell why March would throw everything away for a worthless man, or why Bill Justice, the most honest man in town, would tell bold-faced lies every day of his life. There, in Ed Milton’s bed. Susanna Justice suddenly needs to know if she’s the only one so completely in the dark about such matters. Ed is honest; he’ll tell the truth. His back is to her, and the hour is late, but she asks Ed anyway. Have you ever been in love? She’s certain that he laughs when he turns to her, but in the morning she can’t quite remember if he actually said, Not before, or if, perhaps, that was only what she wanted to hear.
17
On Saturday morning, Gwen hurries to meet Hank at the coffee shop, so rushed for time that she forgets to touch the Founder’s knee for luck as she runs past the statue. Hank left a note taped to Tarot’s stall for her to find when she went to feed and groom the horse earlier, inviting her to meet him for breakfast.
He’s at a rear booth, and Gwen tosses herself into the seat across from him. “What’s the occasion?” She grins. “Is it your treat?”
“For once.” Hank hands her a menu. “He’s actually paying me to do some work, so I figured I’d take you out.”
Gwen notices then, there’s a cardboard box on the floor beside the booth. Inside are cans of paint and rollers.
“He’s fixing up the house,” Hank explains.
“Mr. Cheapskate? Hard to believe.” Gwen peruses her menu. “Ooh,” she says. “Banana-nut pancakes.”
“He wants to impress someone.”
Gwen puts her menu down. This is more than a date for breakfast. Hank has something he wants to tell her. “My mother?”
Hank nods, then orders for them both when Alison Hartwig, their waitress, comes over.
“He wants your mom to move in with him,” Hank says when the waitress moves on. “He’s planning on it.”
“She won’t.” Gwen sounds sure of herself, but she has a funny feeling in her stomach.
“I’m painting the upstairs bedroom today,” Hank says. “Linen white.”
“Fuck him,” Gwen says.
“Yeah, well,” Hank murmurs, torn between the two of them.
“I’m glad you warned me,” Gwen tells him.
Of course she can’t eat when their food is served; the idea of living in Hollis’s house makes her completely sick. She wanders through town when Hank goes back to finish painting, and sits on a bench in the town square beneath the bare linden trees. She has the feeling that she’s on a train that’s going full speed, and whether she stays on board or jumps off doesn’t matter. Either way, she’ll crash.
When Gwen gets back to Fox Hill in the afternoon, she finds her mother working at the kitchen table. It’s cold in the house, and March is wearing two sweaters and two pairs of wool socks as she sets flat pieces of turquoise into a bracelet she plans to use as a sample piece at the crafts store in the village, and perhaps show to some jewelry stores down in Boston.
“It is freezing in here,” Gwen says. She keeps her ski jacket on and zipped.
“I know. Something’s wrong with the heat. Hollis came over to check it out, and the whole system may need to be replaced.”
He probably broke it himself, Gwen thinks. Just the first of many good reasons for them to move in with him. “Maybe I should call that guy Ken and see if he can fix it,” she suggests.
“No, don’t,” March says. “Hollis thinks Ken charges too much. He’ll fix it himself.”
Gwen bets he’ll do precisely that. He’ll fix it so they’ll freeze to death in their beds if they stay.
