John Casey - Compass Rose

Tom paused. May said, “Go on. I was afraid of this; I’ve been afraid of this for a long time.”

“Eddie was still shoving, and I couldn’t help leaning into Walt, so he got pushed into sitting down again. And then it just popped into my head to do something funny. So I sat in Walt’s lap and I said, ‘Walt, honey, maybe we should tell them our secret.’ None of them has much of a sense of humor. Walt just stood up, and I landed on the floor. Walt left. Eddie stood there. Phoebe sat down. She didn’t cry, but she kind of mewed. I said, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall end up on their ass.’ ”

May said “Tom” reflexively, though “ass” wasn’t all that bad. She was mainly thinking of how they all felt. Phoebe and Eddie, of course, but she imagined Walt wishing he’d kept his mouth shut, but once he’d said what he said and with Eddie coming at him, it had to boil over.

Then she replayed Tom’s mimicking the three voices; she heard Phoebe saying, “Why, Walt, I’m not sure exactly what you mean,” and she saw Phoebe going all wide-eyed and tilting her head. But it was Walt’s saying “I don’t mind what anybody gets up to” that was the bigger spark. The truth was that it was Eddie who didn’t mind. He hadn’t minded Phoebe’s going off for her ski weekends, or her going off to Sawtooth in her short tennis dress or going up through Mr. Salviatti’s electric gate — all that dancing around in places Eddie didn’t go, to get the kind of attention Eddie figured was brighter than his. As long as it was between Phoebe and Eddie, Eddie could maybe go glum or mopey when Phoebe left, keep extra-busy while she was away, and be happy when she came back.

But there was Walt, who by all reports had been getting along fine with Eddie while they were working on Miss Perry’s house — there was Walt, Eddie’s own flesh and blood, putting words to Eddie’s unthought thoughts. There was Walt Wormsley looking like Eddie and sounding like Eddie but bigger and louder.

And by all accounts Walt had been around a lot of women. That would give his remark about Phoebe a sly knowingness. May could see how Eddie wanted to knock Walt down.

Tom said, “Okay. Let’s pretend I said ‘butt.’ Or maybe ‘rear end.’ I’m just glad Walt didn’t knee me in the … below the belt.”

“Oh, stop joking around. This is …” May saw Tom shake his head at her. “I’m sorry. You did the right thing there. I mean, getting in between them. I’m not so sure about your trying to get a laugh out of it. Though I suppose that’s what got Walt out the door. Lord, I don’t know what they can do now. Two men. And father and son is even worse.”

“I don’t know why you say that. There’s mother and daughter. Rose is staying over at the school on account of something Elsie said. It’s kind of an inconvenience for me. Rose used to run my work clothes through the washing machine. She said I could throw in some of Dad’s, too.”

“You shouldn’t ask her to do that. Rose has her schoolwork and her play on top of that.”

“I give her rides, and while the wash is getting done, I help her with her homework. Don’t look so surprised, Ma. I’m good at math. I’m the one who figured out where to put the new moorings in Sawtooth Pond. Got to set them so the boats don’t bump into each other. Had to use the Pythagorean theorem. See, the hypotenuse is from the mushroom anchor to the buoy—”

“Not now, Tom. I’m worried about Eddie, and you’re all over the place with washing machines and moorings.”

“Well, Jack was impressed. He’s got room for more sailboats, and that’s cash in his pocket.”

“Since when do you call Mr. Aldrich ‘Jack’?”

“Since he told me to.”

“I’m not so sure I want you mixed up with Mr. Aldrich.”

“Eddie does a lot of work for him.”

“And you work for Eddie. Has Mr. Aldrich been after you to work for him?”

“Jack’s not crazy about Phoebe. He likes Eddie, good old steady Eddie — but he thinks I’m good with boat owners. Jack doesn’t see me spending my life banging nails alongside Walt. Come on, Ma. Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud.”

That was one way of saying it, May thought. Another was that she didn’t like things getting beyond what they were supposed to be. Or people. She could put up with a few bits of disorder — Dick on land was one. She supposed she could get used to one disorder or another if the disorder stayed in the place it started. But here was Mr. Aldrich getting after her, getting after Tom, and Eddie and Walt and Phoebe … and she was worried about Charlie with Deirdre. It was like storms joining up, and then everything was chaos. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She let her breath out, opened her eyes. She said, “I suppose it doesn’t hurt to talk. Just don’t count on something that’s just talk. And remember, Eddie’s our friend.” She needed to settle down some more. She added, “You had your lunch yet? You go pick some peas and I’ll heat up the meatloaf.”

“You’re going to think I just came by for a free meal.”

“I got more peas than I can eat, what with your father staying out so long. Meatloaf, too.”

Tom took the basket but stopped at the doorway. “You know, it’s not necessarily all a bad thing, Eddie losing his temper. I suspect Phoebe might like the change. She’s been trying to gussy Eddie up; she thinks that’s how she’d like him better. But she’ll get a tingle off of his growling at Walt. Maybe another tingle when she thinks, Oh, what if he growls at me?”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. You shouldn’t think things like that about other people. Go pick some peas. See if you can keep your mind on that.”

Tom sighed. “Oh, Ma. That wasn’t … You know, it’s not just peas you got too much of. It’s disapproval. I hope it’s just me stirs it up.”

May didn’t have time to answer. Quick as that, Tom thought of something else. He twirled the basket. “When I get back, I’ll tell you some other news. Nope — I can’t wait. Mary Scanlon’s got a boyfriend.” Then he was out the back door.

She wasn’t going to bring it up to defend herself against Tom, but she’d made her own kind of peace with Elsie. Maybe Tom meant Deirdre. May had pounced on her for taking Rose’s skiff. True enough that Deirdre didn’t know how Dick made Rose cry, how Rose’s crying was in the grain of that boat like her first coat of paint. All right, then — there was Deirdre flying in out of nowhere, not linked to anything or anybody around here, and then there she was padding down the upstairs hall at night. Yes, she dove in to save Charlie. May tried to keep that in mind. It didn’t hold. Maybe Tom was right. Maybe she should be weeding out some disapproval. She might let Tom take Dick’s dirty clothes up to Elsie’s washing machine, but she was no closer to allowing Deirdre a quiet place in her thoughts when Tom came back in with the peas.

Deirdre said, “I don’t think Charlie’s going to marry me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“May’s been nicer to me. She’d only do that if she was relieved. Charlie must have said something to her.”

That struck Elsie as shrewd. She was surprised until she thought that it was the sort of shrewdness the self-absorbed could be good at. Elsie said, “Could be. Or it could be that May’s got other things on her mind.” Elsie stopped wheeling her bicycle up her driveway to let Deirdre get ahead, out of talking range. She’d been happy enough to have Deirdre as an exercise partner, to get pushed harder than she could push herself. She’d also considered Deirdre as offering a retrospective of her own vanities and vices, a harsher scouring than her unaided memory. But Deirdre offered this unconsciously, and Elsie missed Mary Scanlon and Miss Perry, and now that Rose was busy, she missed Rose. All of them had set her straight, or at least straighter.