THE BAY ON her left was dark blue with a flashing knife of silver, a sharp blade of pure light. She parked the car in front of the house and got out.
As if the day could possibly get any worse. Mike had texted her, asking her to come over. Just hear what we have to say. It’s about Jem.
It was the we. Now Adeline and Mike were the we.
It was afternoon and a light drizzle fell, occasionally intensifying into a pattering rain. Adeline crossed in front of the window. Mike walked toward her, and Ruthie stopped. Adeline said something. He said something.
Adeline spoke again, and while she was speaking he reached over with one hand and put it on top of her head, lightly, and rubbed. She leaned into the touch.
Ruthie felt her throat close.
If someone had been walking by—Clark, say, or her other neighbor Martine—on some other random day, when she and Mike still lived in that house, what would they have seen? Two people in the same room. One in an old sweater, catching up on her reading, or listening to a podcast while she organized something. Another passing by on his way to the kitchen to check on dinner.
Perhaps they would exchange a word. But would you see a touch that tender?
She walked across the yard. It gave the appearance of having hosted an unhurried day. One trail bike was propped against the tree. Another lay on the grass, as though dropped so that its owner could go on as swiftly as possible to another pleasant activity. Adeline had lined up glass canning jars filled with dahlias on the front porch. The Adirondack chair that was usually on the patio had been dragged to a corner of the yard in the shade. A book sat on its arm. Fighting years of habit, Ruthie did not pick it up to save it from the damp.
Adeline walked out on the front porch. She stood, her hands in her pockets, and nodded a hello.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
Adeline turned and Ruthie got a look at her muscled shoulders in a gray tank top. She was wearing a pair of loose khaki trousers and rubber flip-flops. Ruthie would have looked as though she was ready to strip paint in the outfit, but Adeline looked gorgeous, with a lariat of chunky crystal wrapped around her neck, the ends swinging with the motion of her walk.
Mike was waiting inside. A leather duffel sat by the door along with a canvas tote. Adeline noticed her gaze. “We want to get out before the storm. We’ll pick up Jem in half an hour. Would you care for a glass of water? Iced tea? It’s so hot.”
Ruthie shook her head so hard she felt something crack in her neck. “So you want to buy my house?”
Adeline cocked her head. “It’s not an impulse, I promise you. It’s a solution.”
“And I’m supposed to just roll over.”
“Of course not.” Adeline shook her head, blond hair skimming her cheeks. “It’s your house, yours and Michael’s. I made an offer to buy it, but it’s your choice. Both of yours. It’s really simple.”
“Of course it’s not simple,” Ruthie snapped. She felt the edge of her patience like a jagged piece of glass. “Can we have a real conversation instead of sanctimonious bullshit?”
Mike glanced quickly, worriedly at Adeline. They were afraid of what she would do. She was a lunatic who chopped down a tree. Maybe she still had the ax. There was a luscious power to that, to being a person who would do anything.
“Also, please stop buying Jem expensive gifts.”
“The sweater? She was cold,” Mike said.
“How much was the sweater?” Ruthie asked. “I’ll pay you back.”
“It was a gift,” Adeline said.
“It’s too expensive. She doesn’t wear things like that.”
Adeline sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I really don’t think there’s any need to hate me for it.”
“I don’t hate you,” Ruthie said. “I just see you clearly.”
“For Christ’s sake,” Mike said. “Ruthie, calm down. I assume you talked to Jem.”
“I am perfectly calm, and I always talk to Jem, I’m her mother. Apparently I have to be handled. I have to be given room. I can’t have my house, but at least I get a room to change my mind in.”
Adeline poured a glass of water from a pitcher filled with lemon slices. She pushed it toward Ruthie as if it were medicinal.
“Let’s just get to it,” she said. “Ruthie, I’m sorry you’re upset. But you need to know something. We’re engaged.”
“You’re engaged.” Ruthie repeated the words, trying them on to see if there was any sanity in them. “I don’t know if you know this, but Mike is still married.”
Adeline shrugged. “A detail. You’ve been separated for three years. Divorce will be easy.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says. Divorce is so easy.”
Adeline walked over to stand next to Mike. “This is very new for everyone. We should all talk about when to tell Jem.”
“You’ve known each other for a month!”
“Seven weeks, and we’re adults,” Adeline said. “When you know, you know. We’ve been talking about things, and we came up with a solution that seems good for everyone. I love the house and I want to buy it.” She put up a hand. “Just hear me out. This might change things for you. When Michael and I are married, this could be a family house for Jem. If I buy it, there would be enough money for you to buy another house, anywhere you like, but in Orient, of course, if that’s where you want to stay. If you need help, a little extra, we can talk about that.”
Adeline was speaking in a totally reasonable tone of voice. Mike was gazing at her as though she was wise and good.
“What are you saying?” Ruthie asked. There was something underneath this, something she wasn’t getting.
“That you’d get the asking price, and you’d get it all,” Mike said. “It would be part of the settlement.”
“Of course I’ll have the place in the city during the winter,” Adeline went on, “but we’ll spend more time here, weekends and some holidays and so on. After the renovations.”
“Renovations.”
“There are improvements that can be made. Things I would want. I always think ten years ahead. We want this to be a family house, for Jem to return to as an adult. Possibly with her own family, grandchildren…”
“Stop.” Ruthie almost strangled on the word. “Stop talking about my grandchildren or I swear to God you’ll have to hide the fucking knives.”
Silence descended. Adeline took a sip of water.
“I’m not your enemy,” she said. “I just happened to fall in love with your ex-husband. It happens every day. If you want to play the victim that’s your choice.”
“I’m not playing.” Ruthie turned to Mike. “This is it, this is what you want? This woman? You let her tell me this, that you’re getting married? Don’t you see it? Don’t you see how controlling she is? Don’t you see how she’s taking everything away? Don’t you see she’s buying us?”
Mike slammed both hands on the countertop. “She’s saving us!” he shouted. “She’s saving me. That’s what love does, it saves you!”
“Because she’s rich?”
“No. Because she’s kind.”
“Michael,” Adeline said.
Mike turned his back and walked to the window. He stared out, his back implacable.
“The offer is made,” Adeline said. “All you have to do is take your time and think it through. You just lost your job. It’s going to take a while to get on your feet. If you sold the house to me, you’d buy time.”
“How great for you. You can buy anything, even time. You bought my husband. But you can’t buy me.”
“It’s a house, Ruthie. It’s not you.”
“Or my child.”
Adeline flushed. “All right,” she said. “There are other houses. But I’m not going away. We’re going to be family, whether you like it or not.”
Ruthie stood in the middle of the living room, her room, her view, her home. Her memories, one after another, like a pocketful of stones.
Her gaze traveled out to the yard, to the storage shed. She wondered, for the first time in her life, if derangement came about not because you didn’t know what you were doing, but because you knew exactly what you were doing, and you didn’t care.