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  “I guess … because I enjoy the challenge. I want to see how far I can go … the way you did, when you went back to school and got your doctorate.”

  Iris put down the plate and looked at her. “I waited until my husband was ready for me to do that.”

  I knew it, Laura thought. What she’s really worried about is Robby’s reaction.

  “Are you saying Robby isn’t ready? Has he told you that?”

  “No. He wouldn’t.”

  Not in so many words. But he could let her mother know—very subtly, of course—how overworked Laura was. And how little time they had together. “This is nineteen eighty-two, Mom. Women don’t feel they have to put their lives on hold until it’s convenient for everyone else.”

  “I know that. And I know what I’m going to say will seem old-fashioned, but … you have a good man, Laura. He’s a good father … and he’s a good husband …”

  Is he? How do you know that?

  “He’s never even looked at another woman.”

  And there was the answer—her mother’s criteria for a good husband. Perhaps it was her pain about Theo’s cheating, even after all these years, or maybe it was just that an insecure woman like Iris would always prize fidelity above all else.

  “I still think, in the end,” Iris went on, “that a marriage is a seventy–thirty percent proposition. At best. And the woman is the one who must give the seventy percent. I don’t care how much the times have changed.”

  Out of nowhere, stupid tears stung Laura’s eyes. Her mother had never criticized her before—not like this, not over something so serious. It shouldn’t matter so much, but it did.

  “I give one hundred percent,” she flung at her mother. “All the time. And Robby knows it. He and I are just fine.”

  “Good,” said her mother. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” She reached over to kiss Laura on the cheek. “Marriage isn’t easy, but when it’s good, it’s one of the greatest joys I know.”

  –—

  Later that night Laura lay in bed next to Robby. He was already asleep but she was having trouble drifting off. She closed her eyes, but the talk with Iris kept coming back to her. Her mother was modern in many ways, but when it came to men and women, Iris was not really a part of her own generation. Her standards came from the last century; she felt a woman who had never been married had not had a full life, and it was a woman’s responsibility to make a marriage work. And while it was painful when a man cheated on his wife, she had an obligation to try to forgive him because men would be men. Laura was sure her mother would not have felt the same way about a cheating wife.

  Laura was getting drowsy at last. Her mind began to wander as minds do, on the edge of sleep. An image of Iris’s face floated through her consciousness—but in the image, her mother’s dark eyes were tragic. Whenever someone or something had disappointed Iris, that was the way her eyes would look, as if she’d just suffered a horrible loss. Laura could remember the expression from her earliest days. And she could remember promising herself that she would never do anything to cause it. Yet, now as she drifted into sleep, she felt responsible for the tragic look, and she wanted to protest that she hadn’t done anything. But then, as happens in dreams and nightmares, her mother’s eyes became the eyes in the portrait she and Katie had seen in the thrift shop. Once again, Laura felt the same unease she’d felt in the store. But then the painting faded away and she was asleep.

  –—

  Theo was breathing easily but deeply. Iris relaxed in the bed next to him because this was her cue that he was asleep. But she didn’t close her own eyes; she was too troubled. Why was I so hard on Laura earlier? she thought as she stared into the darkness. I’m not a fusty old-timer who thinks a woman shouldn’t have any life but her husband’s. I wanted my own career and my own fulfillment and I got them … But not at my husband’s expense, that’s the difference.

  Robby seems lost these days; he doesn’t talk about his work at the museum at all. I remember when he was a student, how excited he was about his future and what he wanted to do. He had so many dreams. Now it’s Laura who has the dreams. She’s happy, but he isn’t, I can tell. And that’s not healthy for a couple.

  I want Laura’s marriage to be a good one. Mine wasn’t always. Theo and I always had love but we hurt each other. That’s not what I grew up with—my parents did everything they could not to hurt each other. They were good to each other—and they were good for each other. That’s what I want for Laura and Robby, I want them to be like my mother and my father, not like Theo and me.

  And yet, even as she thought that, distant memories of quarrels between Anna and Joseph crowded into her mind. There hadn’t been many, but the few had been bitter and extraordinarily painful. And it was always her father who had started them—out of jealousy. There had been a couple of times when he’d come close to accusing Anna of being in love with another man. It had been unfair of him and terribly wrong. Still, there had been that way Mama had of seeming to hold back … But no, the truth was, her father, who had been the strong rock of Iris’s life, had always been insecure about his wife. And insecurity could play with anyone’s mind.

  But I don’t want to think about that now. I don’t want to remember the times when he suspected her of the thing he never could have forgiven. She was innocent and in the end he knew it and they were happy. As I want my daughter to be. My daughter who is so like my mother.

  At her side, Theo was still breathing peacefully. She listened to him for a moment. These days she waited until she was sure he was all right before she allowed herself to slip off to sleep. Her husband was doing as well as could be expected given the severity of his heart attack, but there had been two minor scares recently—one of them in the middle of the night. That was the reason for the oxygen tank standing in one corner of the bedroom. Iris tried to feel comforted by the fact that it was there, but the truth was, it frightened her. The only thing that really reassured her was the sound of Theo’s breath going in and out in a steady rhythm as he slept. So she lay next to him and listened. It was a useless little exercise, but she seemed to need to do it.

  –—

  Theo waited until he was sure Iris had gone to sleep before he opened his eyes. She didn’t know he knew she monitored his breathing now, wanting to be reassured that he was safe before she’d let herself sleep. Once that kind of hovering would have annoyed him, but now he found it touching to be so well loved—particularly after all they’d been through together. He turned his head—very slightly, so he wouldn’t wake her—to look at her face as it rested on the pillow next to his. Iris. Wife. Beloved.

  We’ve had such a journey together, my darling. I wish I could find a way to thank you for taking it with me. But I know that anything I say like that will only frighten you. At least, it will right now. Maybe later, when I’m closer to … well, maybe I’ll find the right time later on.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Just checking on my investment,” Phil said on the phone. It was three days before the cocktail party Laura was catering for the arts foundation and he had called her to find out how she was doing.

  “There’s a big difference between putting together a few breakfast baskets and making cheese puffs for three hundred people. And it has to be cheese not crab, because crab is too expensive. The foundation wants to make as much money as it can.”

  “You’ll do it.”

  “I finally managed to convince the president of the board of trustees that sangria will be a better choice than the punch her mother always served her garden club. The waiters can walk around with pitchers so we don’t have to rent a punch bowl.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “I also had napkin rings made out of dried flowers—the guests can take them home as souvenirs—and the students in the arts program designed the name tags.”

  “Whoa! Is all of that the job of the caterer?”

  “No. But no one else is thinking about those little details and they make all
the difference.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “You really like this, don’t you?” said Phil.

  “Why wouldn’t I? I get to decorate and cook and shop … all the things I love to do … and when it’s time to clean up, which isn’t all that much fun, I pay this nice kid who’s earning money for college to come in and help me. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

  “I envy you.”

  “You want to make napkin rings and cheese puffs?”

  “No. But I guess …”

  “What?”

  “I’d just like to do something I’m passionate about.”

  “Oh.” She’d known for a while that he was unhappy with his work, but when he let it slip like that, she didn’t know what to say to him. “Phil … I …”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t whine. I’m good at what I do and I make a lot of money.”

  But in our family we don’t work just for the money. We want to earn a living, but we want our work to be our passion too. But she couldn’t say that, because Phil had walked away from his passion.

  “Knock ’em dead at the fund-raiser, Laura.”

  “Will do.”

  –—

  The party was a success. Everyone agreed that the napkin rings had been a great touch and no one actually believed the president of the board when she claimed that the sangria had been her idea. A week after the foundation sent Laura her check, an art gallery on the Hudson River contacted her about catering the opening of a new exhibit. And following Robby’s suggestion, she’d contacted the local newspaper, which not only did an article about her, they invited her to write for them. “It’s going to be an advice column for the woman’s page,” she told Robby. “Readers will write in with questions on cooking or refinishing cabinet doors, and I’ll tell them how I’d do it.”

  “So now you’re a writer.” There was a funny edge in his voice.

  “It was your idea, Robby,” she said quickly. “I never would have thought of it without you.”

  See, Mom? I’m trying to please him and give him all the credit. I’m still Nana’s granddaughter.

  But he didn’t even bother to smile.

  –—

  “Let’s get out of here,” Robby said. “We need a vacation.”

  “It’s a bad time for me. I’ve got the column to write, and I’ve been offered my first wedding. I’ll be doing it all—the food, the flowers, the decor and the music.”

  “Turn it down.”

  “I can’t. I’ve already accepted it.”

  “Tell them you’re too busy. Tell them to go to hell, I don’t care. Anyway, you are too busy. We don’t have any time together.”

  But that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to go away. He wants to distract me, she thought. And it was something new. My business is getting too big for him now, and he’s trying to slow me down.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let somebody else plan the reception for some spoiled rich girl’s wedding. Lord knows there will always be another one getting married.”

  “Breaking into the wedding market is the next big step for me—for any catering business. And this is my first opportunity.”

  “Well, I’m taking time off. I haven’t been back to Ohio in six months, and it’s been longer than that for you.”

  “I know that.”

  “My mother is all alone. She doesn’t have anyone.”

  “Yes, Robby, I know.”

  In one of life’s ironic strokes, Robby’s father had died a few months after they moved to New York. And almost overnight, it seemed to Laura, Robby had changed his mind about his hometown. Now he loved to go back to Blair’s Falls for visits, and he seemed to have totally forgotten that he’d once called the place “that dump.”

  “I see your parents all the time,” he said angrily.

  “Yes, and I’m very grateful to you …”

  “Well, I think my mother deserves some attention too.”

  “If it were any other time … Robby, I’ve worked so hard, I need to make the most of what I’ve gained.”

  But he didn’t want her to do that. That was the whole point.

  “Why don’t you go without me?” she said a little desperately. “Give your mother my love and tell her we’ll all come out to Ohio during the summer. That’s a slower season for me.”

  “I want to take Katie with me. Her spring break at school is coming up and Mother’s been asking to see her.”

  “That’s fine.”

  –—

  But as it turned out, it hadn’t been fine for Robby to leave. Not as far as his employer was concerned.

  “Robby took off for two weeks,” Steve fumed to Laura over the phone. “Right at the time when all the kids are out of school and parents are looking for things to keep them occupied—like a trip to their local museum.”

  “It was the only time Katie was free to visit his mother.” A good wife defends her husband. No matter what.

  “Robby didn’t ask for the time off. He just announced that he was going and he went. That kind of thing doesn’t sit well with a board of trustees—or with a man like Leland, who is already wondering why he’s paying Robby. You better tell him to get his act together. There’s only so many more times I can save his job for him.”

  But when she tried to talk to Robby about it, all he would say was, “The trip was worth it, Laura. When I saw the look on my mother’s face … she was so happy to see Katie. It did her a world of good.”

  That wasn’t quite the way Katie told the story. “Grandmother Mac—and I really hate that name, Mom …”

  “But that’s what she asked you to call her. What about her?”

  “She just cried and cried when Daddy and I left. She said she misses Daddy so badly it’s like having her right arm cut off.”

  “That must have been very hard for Daddy.”

  “It was, I could tell. He loves her a lot. But Mom …” Katie trailed off.

  “What is it?”

  “I have to tell you something kind of bad … about me …”

  “If it’s about you, it can’t really be bad.”

  “Yes, it can. Sometimes … I don’t like Grandmother Mac. I mean, I know you’re supposed to love your elders, and I try … but she’s always crying around Daddy and making him feel bad about something … And she says you’re selfish.”

  “Selfish?” Laura was too surprised to be angry. “Why?”

  “Because you wanted to move back to New York so you could be near your family and she never gets to see Daddy and me.”

  “Your father wanted to come here! He couldn’t wait!” The surprise had worn off and the anger came.

  “But Grandmother Mac says …”

  “I don’t want to hear any more of what Grandmother Mac says!”

  “You don’t like her either, do you?”

  Laura drew in a deep breath; her outburst had been wrong—although it had felt good. Now she didn’t want to make it worse. “Your Grandmother McAllister and I are very different kinds of women. It isn’t easy for us to like each other but we have to try. And most of the time we don’t do too badly.”

  “But you don’t like her,” Katie said. It was clear that as far as she was concerned that was the final word on the subject. Laura decided to let it go. But that night when Laura was tucking Katie into bed, it seemed that the trip to Ohio was still on her daughter’s mind.

  “I do like Daddy’s Uncle Donald though,” she said as Laura pulled up the bedcovers.

  “He’s very nice.”

  “He worries a lot because there won’t be anyone to take over his department store when he’s gone.”

  “When did he tell you that?”

  “He said it to Daddy, and I heard them talking. They didn’t know I was listening.” Katie yawned. “I’m just glad we don’t live in Blair’s Falls. I like it here.”

  “Me too.”

  “And if Daddy gets lonely sometimes because he’s here with your family instead of being with
his own, like Grandmother Mac says he does, we’ll take care of him, won’t we, Mom?”

  “That’s my job,” Laura said, and she tried to smile.

  –—

  “How could you let your mother say things like that about me?” Laura demanded when she and Robby were alone.

  “Laura, give her a break, she’s not as young as she used to be and she wants to know her granddaughter better.”

  “And saying rotten things about me is the way to do that?”

  “She’s lonely—that’s all. She wishes I’d come back home, and bring my family with me.”

  “You never wanted to live in that town. You couldn’t wait to get out.”

  “I know. But I can’t say that to her, can I?”

  “She told my child I’m selfish.”

  “She’s jealous. She just wants Katie to know about my side.”

  “When did you and I start having sides?”

  “You know what I mean. Katie is a lot closer to your family than she is to mine and my mother resents it. I know it’s not your fault and I don’t blame you for it. Don’t you blame me for the things my mother says. Now, let’s drop this.”

  She had a choice; she could do what he said and drop it, or she could let him know how angry she was. She could scream and they could have a fight. In the movies and in novels when a couple had a big blowup, it cleared the air and they felt closer afterward. And of course her parents had fought. But her parents had had passion, so perhaps in some deep way they’d felt they could risk having battles. She and Robby had to have peace because they couldn’t take the chance.

  She dropped it, and got into bed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I’m having lunch in the city today. With a writer—the one who wrote the article about me for that magazine, Woman’s Life,” Laura said. When the story had appeared a month earlier, somehow Robby had forgotten to read it. “She says she has a project she wants to discuss with me.”

  “What kind of project?” Robby asked.