CHAPTER 17

When Al got back from the hospital, she was very subdued. She moved slowly, thoughtfully, her head tilted to one side as if she were listening to something. Or someone. I didn’t ask her what she’d decided to do about the farm. I figured she’d tell me when she felt like it.

“Polly said to come the minute you got home,” I said.

“I better not go.” Al washed her face and combed her hair. Then she changed into clean jeans and a clean T-shirt. “I’m in the pits. Mr. Wright was visiting my mother this afternoon. He’s so cheerful,” Al said scornfully. “I don’t think he realizes how serious pneumonia is. I mean, all kinds of things can go wrong. Just when you’re not expecting it. He’s so cheerful he depresses me.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. “It’s not the first time you’ve been in the pits,” I said. “Polly won’t mind. Come on. Anyway, Teddy’s visiting a friend and my mother and father are going out for dinner so you’d be all alone. Besides, you don’t want to miss a lobster dinner at Polly’s.”

She came with me. I knew she would.

We sat and watched Polly as she zapped around her kitchen. She looked like a small, skinny Julia Child. Polly is very graceful. She sort of skimmed over the floor like a bird wrapped in a huge white apron. She told us not to help her, we’d only be in the way. Which suited me fine. We sat there on the high kitchen stools and told Polly about everything that had happened while she was away. Then she told us a bunch of stories about the weirdos up on the Cape.

“There are more weirdos up there than there are in New York, if you can believe it,” Polly said.

I guess both Al and I looked doubtful because Polly said, “It’s true. There are. I don’t know why, but it’s true.”

“How’s Evelyn?” I said. Evelyn’s Polly’s twenty-year-old sister who is always living with some guy without being married to him, or thinking of marrying some guy her mother doesn’t think is right for her. Polly’s mother doesn’t think Evelyn is ready for marriage. What I think is that Evelyn probably will never be ready for marriage. It’s none of my business, I know, but I’m entitled to my own opinion.

“Evelyn’s throwing pots these days,” Polly said.

“Who at?” Al said.

“That’s what you say when a person is into pottery, making pots,” Polly said. “Evelyn’s also a vegetarian. She eats mounds of tofu and bean sprouts every day. She’s thinking of writing a vegetarian cookbook. I’ll say one thing for Evelyn.” Polly sighed. “She doesn’t let the grass grow under her feet, but she’s an eternal child.”

Polly went and peered into the lobster pot to see how they were doing.

“How’s your mother, Al?” she said.

“Much better, thanks,” Al said, smiling.

“When are you leaving? On your trip to the farm?” Polly said.

Talk about timing.

The smile fell off Al’s face. I could almost hear it drop.

She looked at me.

“I’m not sure.” Al said the words slowly, as if reluctant to let them go. “I might not go at all. I can’t leave my mother in the lurch.”

“Her mother wouldn’t do it to her,” I said.

Polly nodded. “Good for you, Al,” she said. “They’re done,” and we each got a plate and stood in line for our lobsters.

When we got home, Al said, “You go on in. I’ll be over as soon as I call”

“Call who?” I said, although I knew who she meant.

“My father. And Louise. I’ve stalled around long enough. I’m going to call and tell them I can’t come. I’ve been kidding myself all along, telling myself it would be all right if I went. I can’t. I just can’t go.”

“I thought you said the doctor said she was coming along fine,” I said feebly. “Your mother wanted a bed jacket. You said the crisis was over if she wanted a bed jacket.”

She turned and looked at me. There were two spots of color high on her cheeks.

“The crisis has just begun,” Al said, baring her teeth at me in what passed for a smile. “Besides, what’s a lousy old trip and a barn dance anyway?”

She did a very small belly dance, and then her arms fell to her sides. “All it is is my life,” she said. And she unlocked her door and slid noiselessly inside.

I went home. I wouldn’t have stuck around to hear that phone call for anything. Not for anything in the world.