A Slender Thread

The Georges’ home was a large shingled house built at the turn of the century. Though it was not as old as the smaller houses surrounding it, Alex and Lacey had chosen it because even on a gray day the rooms were filled with light. Margot and Lacey’s grandmother Winkler had left them each a bequest, stipulating that it be used to purchase “Real Estate.” This was her way, as it had been explained, of ensuring that her granddaughters would not have to depend on a man for providing them with a place to live, a sort of old-fashioned feminism. Margot and Lacey had called their inheritance “the house money.”

Alex hadn’t minded selling the small cape in Exeter, New Hampshire, where they had been living and moving to this house in New Castle. He had been running his family’s company in Newfields, getting it ready to sell. It had been Lacey’s dream to live near the water and this house had room for a studio for her as well as an office for him. As a businessman, he viewed the new house as a good investment.

Margot, then still in her twenties, had used her inheritance to purchase a tiny one-bedroom apartment with a terrace on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Alex couldn’t believe how expensive it was for so little space and thought it a poor choice. Buying it was what Margot’s boyfriend—soon-to-be husband—Teddy wanted.

Now, as Alex stood in the dining room in New Castle opening the two bottles of Côte de Beaune to serve with their dinner that evening, he thought of Margot’s ex-husband, who had come only once to New Castle for Thanksgiving. Alex remembered how appalled he had been that Margot had fallen for Teddy. He recalled one awful, though expensive, dinner with them in New York, and later, when Margot had brought Teddy home for the four-day holiday, he hadn’t liked him any better. That guy was too smooth, too certain of himself, and superficial. In Alex’s opinion, Teddy didn’t appreciate Margot. Lacey had agreed, and urged Margot not to marry so quickly.

Later, after Margot’s marriage fell apart, Alex was sorry that he hadn’t intervened in some way, but how do you tell your sister-in-law that her fiancé is bad news? Margot would not have wanted to hear it from him. His mother had used an old-fashioned expression when she spoke of Teddy’s effect on Margot, saying that Teddy had “taken the bloom off the rose,” when the marriage ended. Still, that was years ago, and Margot looked happier now. Alex assumed Oliver was the reason for it. Funny how he wasn’t coming for the holiday this year. Yet lives got complicated with past marriages and grown children added to the mix.

Alex inspected both corks and brought one to his nose. The wine would be good. He surveyed the room. Everything was ready for another Thanksgiving. He liked the brief calm before a party. This room had been the scene of many fine meals: dinner parties with friends, birthday celebrations, and the ritualized holidays that followed one after another. Lacey prided herself on getting everything just right—the combination of guests, the perfect glasses and dishes, flowers, candles, no detail forgotten. On the surface all was well—the gracious room, the table set, the wine open to breathe. But it was not just another Thanksgiving. Their lives had changed. So far, only he and Lacey, and now Margot, knew that.

Alex wondered if Hugh and Kate, longtime friends, would sense that anything was wrong. Hugh had been Alex’s roommate in college, a fellow history major, and they had been best friends ever since. Hugh and Kate were the prototypical New England prep-school teachers. Hugh, a slight man, doubtless would show up that evening wearing a tweed sport coat and corduroy pants that bagged at the knees. His prematurely gray hair was usually long and carelessly combed, making him look like a flash-forward photograph of one of his students. He had an endearing earnestness, always giving his full attention to anyone who spoke to him. His former students often returned to visit him years after graduating from Warner Academy, and Alex could see why.

Kate, whom he had married immediately after they graduated from college, also had a sweet, naive quality and the same perennial youthfulness. It was as if living with high school students most of the year kept both of them in a time warp, where normal aging was held at bay. Her shoulder-length brown hair stayed in place with a tortoiseshell headband and she wore no makeup at all on her wide face with its girlish, turned-up nose.

The Martins’ lives seemed so easy and uncomplicated to Alex: They had jobs they loved and two happy grown sons already out on their own. Kate and Hugh lived in a small community where they were revered and respected. They had the benefit of free housing at the school and because of this they were able to save for and purchase their home in New Castle, where one day they would retire. Their sons had received full tuition at Warner Academy before going on to college. The school had a world-class athletic center, with swimming pools and a hockey rink, an art museum, a performing arts center, and hiking trails in the adjacent woods. The years seemed to unfold before Kate and Hugh in a predictable progression where little could go wrong.

Alex had loved history like Hugh did, but instead of becoming a teacher, he had decided to get his MBA after college. His family had expected him to work in the family business, George Manufacturing. The company, which made movable window seals for car manufacturers, had grown larger over the years and his father had seemed less and less able to cope in the changing world market. Alex’s older brother, Daniel, was already entrenched in his scientific career on the West Coast and uninterested in helping. Fortunately, Alex had been able to sell the company before the threat of foreign competition forced them out of business. He now consulted for other family businesses caught in similar situations. The work could be lucrative, but it was not always steady.

The grandfather clock chimed in the hallway. Time to get changed. Alex took a last look at the sideboard, the wine, and the empty chairs where they would soon gather. He felt weary. He had thought he was used to life’s hurdles.

Everyone was gathered in the dining room. One of Lacey’s colorful handwoven tapestries ran the length of the table and on it she had arranged gourds and pinecones interlaced with bittersweet. Margot had polished the antique silver candelabra that had belonged to Alex’s mother. The candlelight illuminated their faces in the growing dark. They had been at the table for over an hour already.

“I haven’t had to travel too much lately,” he said. As a consultant, Alex often had to accept jobs that took him to far-flung parts of the country. Lacey, always busy and independent, had never minded his trips. But what about now? Margot wondered. Would his time away from home be harder for her to endure? And next fall when the girls left for college?

“I’ll agree with that,” Lacey said. While Lacey had not spoken at any length that evening, she laughed easily and made plenty of short comments. “Who’d like more?” She started to get up.

“No, let me,” Margot said quickly and went to the sideboard. “There’s lots more Pot of Gold,” she said, referring to the puree of root vegetables, a longtime family favorite. She handed the dish to Kate to pass around the table. “I’ll get more turkey.” She picked up the serving platter and headed to the kitchen.

Margot was in awe of the way Lacey put on a beautiful meal seemingly without effort. The turkey had emerged from the oven browned to a golden perfection. Lacey had whisked the gravy while the side dishes warmed—mounds of creamy mashed potatoes, bright green beans, and the corn-bread stuffing, its buttery aroma laced with sage. Kate had brought a casserole of creamed onions and a platter of crudités to have as hors d’oeuvres. Just before sitting down for the meal, Lacey had put the pies in the oven to warm. She had timed the meal perfectly. Yet the timing of her words was already less than perfect. Margot could feel the start of tears as she refilled the platter. No. She’d promised Lacey. She wasn’t going to fall apart. She squared her shoulders, pushed her face into a pleasant expression, and went back to the dining room.

“I’d love to travel for my job,” Kate said. “Dorm duty every other weekend this year is killing me. We’re getting too old for this.” Kate and Hugh’s apartment was in a girls’ dormitory at Warner Academy. Kate was in the English department and also the assistant dean, and Hugh was the head of the history department and coached cross-country and track.

“Almost,” Alex said, giving Toni a quick glance. Toni had been sulkily pushing her turkey around her plate, still annoyed that she was not allowed to go out with Ryan later that night. In the end, Lacey had prevailed, saying it was a time to be with family, implying that Ryan should be home with his family too, and not hanging out in his apartment during the break.

“It’s important,” Lacey said, giving Margot an annoyed glance. “Alex, I’m not going to . . . argue with you about this anymore.” With a trembling hand she took the dish from her daughter. The serving spoon fell from the dish, spattering the dark red sauce onto the pine table. There was a sudden silence in the room. Lacey moved to rise.

When she returned, Lacey was explaining the project to Kate with noticeable care. “The little kids have nothing to do after school. I’m trying to get companies to donate supplies. We also need more . . .”

When she returned to the table, Kate was still trying to smooth things out. “We’ve got a group of students going to the shelter in Manchester,” she said. “So far they only read to the kids and help them with their homework. Art projects are a great idea.”

Margot was grateful to him for moving the conversation away from what was obviously a touchy subject between Alex and Lacey. “We have a new show up at the gallery,” she said. “Oliver’s latest painting is pretty amazing. It takes up the entire west wall.”

“That, or maybe a corporate space,” Margot said. “The drama of a large painting is that the viewer feels like he could become part of the work. It kind of envelops you—sort of like stepping into the scene.” She hoped she didn’t sound didactic.

Margot began to rise and reached for one of the empty platters. “A walk’s a super idea,” she said with what she hoped wasn’t false cheer. Over the next few minutes everyone carried their plates and the serving dishes into the kitchen while Lacey and Kate wrapped the leftovers.

Alex, his face closed and impenetrable, extinguished the candles while the rest of the group went off to find their coats. Margot went all the way to the third floor to get her gloves. On the way down she paused on the landing to button her coat. The hall below her was dark. She hadn’t bothered to switch on the light. She heard Lacey and Alex speaking in the foyer. The others must have already started down the walk. Their voices carried up the stairs.

“One minute you’re acting like . . . everything is fine, and the next you’re telling me to stop doing the things I love.” She paused. “Like I’m some kind of invalid.”

Margot’s heart pounded in her ears. She heard Lacey’s steps fade and the front door slam. Margot tried to steady her breathing and ran her hand along the wall in search of the switch. The light came on. She continued her descent. Alex stood alone, his back against the door.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, not bothering to pretend she hadn’t heard their exchange. Alex’s shoulders were hunched. He looked at her briefly, then closed his eyes.

Breathing in the crisp air made Margot feel more alert, better able to cope. She had been deeply shaken at seeing Alex so upset. The night was cold, but with little wind. Everyone had gathered in the road in front of the house. Alex moved away from her and joined Hugh as they began the walk to the beach. Alex, Hugh, and Toni led the way, walking the fastest, and Kate and Lacey followed arm in arm. Kate was bringing Lacey up to date on the doings of her own children. She and Hugh had had their babies early in their marriage. One son was out west helping to run a wilderness program and the other was in a graduate program in London. Neither could get home this year for Thanksgiving.

Margot looked up into the darkness. She was weary from her concerted effort to keep smiling. The clean, sharp air felt good. The moon was nearly full, and the sky was filled with stars. They, along with the lights from the houses in the neighborhood, made it easy enough to find the way along the village streets. She glanced over at Wink, who was also gazing upward as if dazzled by the sweep of stars.

Margot loved the twins equally, but she couldn’t deny a special feeling of tenderness she kept for Wink. Toni had been the fussier of the two as babies, and when Margot had gone to visit, she had held Wink more often, so that Lacey could tend to Toni. The feeling of that warm little body nestled up against hers, so dear, small, and defenseless, was something she would always treasure.

“I do, but I like science, too,” Wink said. “You need math for all of it. What I love are the patterns in nature. It’s amazing that there are all these invisible forces, the moon, the tides, and even when we understand it, there’s nothing we can do to control it. We’re all swept into the patterns.” She looked down and began to kick at some pebbles. Wink was the more serious twin, quiet, often caught up in her own daydreams. She looked like Alex, with the distinguished George nose and soft reddish brown hair. Tall and willowy, she had a less predictable prettiness than her twin sister. Toni, though not as tall, resembled their mother.

Margot remembered once being with Lacey on this very same walk when the twins were little girls. Toni and Wink must have been at least three, as they had trotted along by themselves on either side of their mother, Wink stopping to pick up a random stone and Toni with a wilted dandelion blossom squeezed in her fist. It must have been summer. Margot seemed to recall the girls wearing sundresses and sandals. Their small round feet were tanned from the long days outdoors. There was a strong breeze that afternoon and large puffy clouds tumbled across the sky.

When Toni caught sight of the low wall close to the beach, she started to run ahead, squealing with delight to be reaching their destination. Lacey hurried to catch up and bent over to scoop Toni into her arms, lifting her up toward the sky before hugging her closely to her chest. Toni’s shrieks of laughter melted away as she buried her face in her mother’s neck.

Margot nearly stopped breathing as she watched the two of them together. She wanted nothing more than to enter into Lacey’s loving aura, to be a mother too, to be part of a family; she ached for a piece of that world. The knowledge that her life could never be like Lacey’s had crept into her thoughts like a shadow, but her momentary sadness had disappeared when she felt Wink’s small, warm hand slip into her own. Margot looked down at the serious eyes gazing up at her and she smiled. “Come on, little Miss Winky, let’s catch up with those two. I’m going to draw pictures for you in the sand.” They skipped along together toward the beach wall, Margot keeping Wink’s hand securely in hers.

Now the chill November night gave Margot a momentary shiver. A wind had come up as they neared the water. Wink stopped for a bit and turned toward her. “Do you think my parents are okay?”

“They don’t seem very happy right now.” She resumed walking. The rest of the group was well ahead, almost to the wall at the end of the road that overlooked the ocean.

Lacey had started the tradition of night walks to the beach when the girls were very young. It had been a special treat for them to walk hand in hand with their parents, winter or summer, toward the sweep of open water at the far end of the village. Walking in the dark was not the same as walking in the daytime. It was more of an adventure, a time to reveal private thoughts, and the shadows dimming one’s face made it easier to share special secrets.

“I haven’t been here very long,” Margot said, avoiding the question. “It’s going to be hard when you guys go off to college. Especially for your mom. She’s used to having you around.”

“Your parents love each other very much. You never have to worry about that.” Margot put her arm around her niece and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring hug. She took her arm and began walking. “Come on. They’ll think I’m lagging behind so I won’t have to do the dishes.” Margot looked straight ahead and, once again remembering the small face gazing up into hers, thought about this lovely, serious young woman and how she would react when she knew what had come between her parents, when she knew the truth.

Wink pulled away and went to stand by her sister. They all stood silently and looked out at the ocean, vast and dark, under the roaring sound of the waves. Kate leaned against Hugh, and Alex stood behind Lacey. Her hair blew back against his coat.

Margot stood a little way from the others. She decided to try to reach Oliver as soon as they got back to the house. She wouldn’t tell him all she knew yet. She’d wait until she returned to New York. Pushing her hands deeply into her pockets, she hunched her shoulders against the cold. She imagined the feel of Oliver’s arms around her, his body shielding her from this wind. Even when he’d had a bad session at the studio or rambled on all evening about the lousy art market, there was always that moment at the end of the day when he would hold her, and even if his mind was elsewhere, the warmth of his body against hers made her feel safe and loved. He couldn’t hold her tonight, but right now she just wanted to hear his voice.

Margot awoke in the dark on Friday morning. It had to be nearly seven, but too early for the sun to rise. In New York, she was less aware of these changes in light. There, it was the noise from the traffic that alerted her that the day was about to start. Giant garbage trucks would roar up the side streets and the clatter of the metal cans was like artillery fire in a war zone. On weekday mornings in New York, Oliver would be up early. He liked to drink coffee and read in the dawn hours. Like Margot, he was not a cook, but he adored strong black coffee and went to great trouble to buy just the right beans. Margot planned to give him the newest coffeemaker this Christmas, an all-in-one machine that even ground the beans.

Margot thought of the small rituals that she and Oliver shared. A little after seven, he would come into the bedroom carrying a pot of tea for her on a tray. She would drink it while he took the first turn in the shower. She would have coffee later after eating breakfast. Oliver would leave the bathroom door open and, across the steam, call out his plans for the day—going straight to the studio, stopping to see a dealer, meeting up with someone for lunch. Oliver put in long hours at his studio, but like a European, he liked to indulge in a leisurely lunch.

Early in their courtship, they had met most frequently for a meal in the middle of the day. Margot would slip out of the gallery, pick up some take-out food, and ride the freight elevator up to the loft where Oliver worked. It was there, in Oliver’s studio, amid the crumbs from a baguette and the remnants of some country-style pâté, that they had made love for the first time. After the mess of her marriage to Teddy, Margot couldn’t quite believe the simple joy that came from being so desired.

She must have fallen back asleep, since the next thing she knew, a pale swath of sun was pouring into her room at the top of the house. A few minutes later she heard footsteps on the stairs, but instead of coming to her room the steps continued into Lacey’s studio, followed by the door closing. Lacey had told her that she was trying to finish weaving a set of place mats that she was donating to a charity auction.

Margot got up and hurried to the shower. They were all going to Kate and Hugh’s house for a chili lunch and an afternoon hike, an annual tradition rain or shine. Margot smiled, thinking how if Oliver were here he would tease her, saying that he didn’t appreciate having to go on a forced march.

Margot took a mug from the cupboard and poured herself the last of the coffee. It was only lukewarm and had simmered down to a dark sludge. “Is it really that bad?”

“But your parents told you not to,” Margot said. It struck her how she sounded like her own father thirty years before, who would admonish her for what he called her “disappointing behavior.”

“She’s the one. She’s so controlling. It’s because Ryan is older and already at UNH. She wants me to go to Columbia. Their journalism program is famous. Blah, blah, blah. She says I shouldn’t pick a school to be with a guy.”

“Mom’s so unreasonable.” Toni pushed back her hair, an unruly tangle that made her look both childlike and vampish. “I met him at a play. Over at UNH. And okay, he’s a couple of years older. He’s twenty-one, a junior. Mom acts like he’s thirty or something.”

“But that’s what’s so great. The guys in my class are such jerks. They never listen. It’s all about them. Ryan really pays attention to me. Older guys are so much better.”

“That’s wonderful.” Margot reached over and patted Toni’s arm. “It’s just that you have so many important things going on right now: your senior year, college applications, lots of decisions ahead. You need to keep your mind on that, too.”

Toni leaned toward her aunt. “Yeah, yeah.” Her face softened. “Since I’ve known Ryan, it’s like everything is clearer. I’m more focused on things, not less.”

Margot nodded. Life with Oliver was focused. In the last five years with him her life had taken on more meaning. “I need you, Mags,” Oliver often said. “Painting uses me up. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“But I do. I talk and talk and all I get is the silent treatment.” Toni got up from the table. She lifted the hair off her neck and arched her back. “God, Aunt Margot, don’t you remember the first time you fell in love? It’s like so impossible. You can’t help it.”

Margot stood and gave Toni a hug. “I don’t know what to tell you.” She rocked Toni for a moment in her arms. What could she say to her niece? It didn’t seem all that long ago when she was almost the same age, when she had experienced for the first time the very same thing—swamped with feelings, overcome that summer at Bow Lake. Had it been a crush, or had she really been in love with Alex? Margot grew still. What a ridiculous question. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of that for years. She stepped away from Toni. “Give it time, sweetie. Things have a way of working out.”