Читать книгу Addy's Redemption: A Novel - Juliana Ormsby - Страница 10

Chapter IV

Wells, Maine

Early on the morning of August 14, they loaded the car for the long ride to Maine. Lionel’s blood boiled as he watched the kids putting their bags helter-skelter into the back of the station wagon. True to his militaristic form, Lionel made the kids remove their belongings, and he rearranged everything like a perfect puzzle.

Addy had never learned to drive. She longed to get her license, and Lionel had once encouraged her to do so. Although she passed the written portion of the driving test, she was just too nervous to use the car, fearing Lionel’s wrath if she ever had an accident. It was maddening to have to rely upon Lionel to transport the kids and her everywhere. He was a rude and impatient driver.

Before getting on the road towards Maine, they stopped at First National Market to pick up provisions for the vacation. Addy had made a shopping list so that she and the kids could zip through the aisles and not keep Lionel waiting. It was pathetic how automatically Addy responded to every situation that might spark Lionel’s temper. What a way to live.

Because the cottage was actually a summer home, where the owners planned to retire one day, it had a fully equipped modern kitchen and other amenities. Lionel said the beach was only a few minutes’ walk, and there was a small grocery store nearby. The children, well trained by Addy not to get on their father’s nerves, were quiet during the endless trip to Maine. They amused themselves looking out the windows as they whizzed past parts of New England they had never seen. When they finally pulled into Beach Plum Lane, then the driveway of a lovely home, Addy was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of nervous anticipation and joy. Fighting back the tears, she excitedly asked Lionel, “Is this it?”

“Yep,” he grunted. “Charlie has a gorgeous place here, and he never rents it out to strangers. He did it as a favor to me so you’re darned lucky.”

The house was actually two cottages joined together in a U-shape. It looked as if there had once been a freestanding garage between the bungalows, but a large part of the garage had been redesigned to increase the size of the O’Malley’s place and add the master suite. There was still an attached garage for the O’Malleys with a door leading directly into the other residence. Lionel said that portion of the U-shaped configuration was still very much a beach cottage. Charlie had the “luck of the Irish;” an old woman sold him the two houses for a song, with the stipulation that she could use the cottage side for two weeks a year for the rest of her life. Apart from those two weeks, Charlie rented out the cottage side as an income property.

Once again, Lionel emphasized how fortunate Addy and the kids were to be able to stay in Charlie’s side of the property and warned the kids not to mess anything up. Addy wondered if Charlie knew that Lionel wanted to spend these two weeks with his woman in Colorado. After all, Charlie was often on the road with Lionel.

When Lionel turned the key to open the door to this beautiful home, Addy was speechless. The house was something Addy may have seen in one of her magazines. Light streamed into the many windows, illuminating the space with a happy glow. Darker hues were popular when Addy and Lionel’s house was constructed several years ago, but now their home seemed gloomy and dated. Lionel never wanted to spend any money on improvements. As Addy walked through Charlie’s house, one space after another entranced her. The floor plan was very open with living room, dining room, and kitchen flowing into one another. The kitchen contained white cabinets with glass doors, a white tiled floor, and a counter that looked out into the living room. There were stools on one side of the counter, and a large dining area extended from the kitchen. Off the dining room was the huge master suite with its own bath. On the nightstand, Addy spied a photograph of Charlie O’Malley and his wife. Charlie was a tall, handsome, athletic-looking Irishman whose eyes seemed to twinkle with warmth. He looked like a mischief-maker, holding back a good laugh. Charlie’s wife on the other hand, was plain and serious-looking, almost homely. Not that Addy was any beauty, mind you, but she often wondered how some unattractive women won the hearts of gorgeous men. Just how Charlie’s wife, Kathy--Addy thought that was her name--held her head, Addy knew that if Charlie ever dared stray from her, she would raise holy hell. With her sixth sense about people, Addy knew immediately that Charlie loved his wife, and he was not a cheater. She had to turn away from the photo quickly. Pictures of happily married couples stirred up a mixture of envy and sadness in Addy’s heart. She knew that envy was one of the seven deadly sins. Although she held such disdain for the Catholic Church, Addy still tried to be a good person and avoid the worst offenses: Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust.

The children shouted with delight as they discovered that the sliding glass doors on one side of the dining room led to a sun porch, the brightest space of all. The white wicker furniture sported new blue, yellow, and white printed cushions. Adorning the sofa and chairs were hand-hooked throw pillows with images of shells, starfish, and seahorses. There were huge jalousie windows on three sides and a ceiling fan overhead.

The fireplace mantel in the living room held numerous photos of Charlie’s family and friends. Addy glanced at them briefly and decided they represented a slice of a very happy existence: beachside barbeques and lobster roasts; Charlie, his wife, and another couple smiling as a waiter carried out a glowing birthday cake; pictures of the kids at various stages of their lives. Addy just had to stop looking. She vowed to avoid studying these photographs too closely during the vacation.

Lionel hated when Addy would drift off into her dream world. He said sharply, “There’s a restaurant near the beach parking lot. I thought I’d take you and the kids there for lunch.”

Addy figured Lionel might be feeling a slight pang of guilt for leaving them while he went off to Denver, but no. He wasn’t that selfless. She suspected the real reason for his sudden generosity was that he wanted a lobster roll.

Although the restaurant was within walking distance, Lionel drove them there. Addy saw him check his watch several times; he must be on a tight schedule. They drove to the parking lot of Wells Beach, and then walked over to McKenna’s Sea Side Grill. The intoxicating smell of fried fresh seafood mixed with salt air immediately brought back memories of Addy’s summers at Sound View Beach. In fact, the whole place resembled a scene from a 1920s picture postcard.

The kids ran quickly to save a picnic table by the sea wall. You could walk down some stone stairs to the beach about thirty feet below. Hot dogs and fries for the kids, a lobster roll for Lionel, and a fried scallop roll for Addy; what a delicious break from their normal routine of always eating at home. The children’s faces were already pink from the sun, but they didn’t mind the heat. A soft breeze played gently with the wisps of auburn hair that framed Mary’s sweet face. Anyone watching Lionel, Addy, Peter, James, and Mary eating lunch by the sea would assume they were a normal, happy American family. When Addy noticed the impatient look in Lionel’s eyes, she knew she had better eat faster.

While they rode back to the house, Lionel spouted inane directions, which he always assumed she needed. “Don’t lose the keys to the cottage; make sure the kids shower outside so they don’t track sand into the house; leave the place as spotless as you found it; be sure to wash all the towels and sheets after stripping the beds … and blah, blah, blah.”

Lionel immediately jumped out of the car as soon as they returned to the house and didn’t even bother to walk inside with them. Tousling the boys’ hair, and giving Mary a quick peck on the cheek, Lionel reminded them he would be back to pick them up on the 21^st around 6:00 p.m., and he wanted them all packed and ready to go. He glanced toward Addy, then reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and handed her a fifty-dollar bill. “This is in case you guys want to eat at McKenna’s sometimes. Now don’t think you have to spend it all.”

“Thanks,” Addy said cheerfully, trying to disguise her eagerness for him to leave. Once Lionel’s dark spirit had gone, the true sweetness and light of this enchanted cottage could shine through at its brightest. There were two other bedrooms so the boys quickly called “dibs” on the one with matching twin beds. That made more sense since the other bedroom had one double bed. By the time they unpacked their clothes and made up the beds, it was nearly four o’clock. “Can we go to the beach now, Mom?” James asked excitedly.

Addy hesitated … she thought, after all, dinner would be at six, and that wouldn’t give them much time. Just before responding, Addy had a revelation: Who said we have to eat dinner at six? Lionel isn’t here, and we four are on VACATION.

“Sure. Go change into your suits.” The boys raced to their room, digging through their dresser drawers to find their swim trunks. Addy had to stop herself from saying, “Hey, we just finished putting everything so neatly into the bureau, and now your clothes are all scrambled up.”

Before the words tumbled automatically from her lips, she made a silent vow to herself that the kids were going to have the time of their lives, and it didn’t matter if the drawers were neat. She really wasn’t a stickler for tidiness but had to conform to Lionel’s expectations. He controlled every aspect of the kids’ and her life. Rejoice! Rejoice! He’s not here to see!

Mary tended to be neater than her brothers were. She knew exactly where she had placed her beautiful new bathing suit. She had picked it out herself. It was a pink and yellow floral and butterfly print trimmed at the top with a small pink ruffle. The pink straps crossed in the back and were held together by a lovely appliquéd butterfly.

Addy struggled to pull her new old lady’s dowdy swim dress up over her thunderous thighs. Suddenly the picture of the Italian lady’s huge rump flashed again across her mind. Laughing aloud, Addy said to herself, “Now I know how she felt.”

Addy gathered up a beach blanket, towels, fruit, and some bug spray. She asked the kids if they would like sandwiches for dinner after they got home from the beach. The spontaneity of the situation was too rare a treat for the kids to comprehend at first.

“Sandwiches for dinner?” Peter questioned. Then, three birds trilling with joy, chirped, “Sure, Wow, Great.”

Addy, too, already felt lighter inside. She had spent so many hours of her life making dinners for the family that putting sandwiches together for supper was going to be a new experience. Maybe she would place all the fixings in assembly-line fashion on the counter so the kids could create their own sandwiches.

Addy didn’t want to walk down the stone stairs to the beach just below McKenna’s Sea Side Grill. It was not a very pretty beach; the sand looked rough, and it was still crowded with noisy people. When she had flipped through the O’Malley’s loose-leaf notebook that contained restaurant menus and other tidbits of information about the area, she found a flyer for Wells Town Beach. If you had a sticker on your car, you could park free in the beach lot all summer. Of course, walkers entered the beach free any time of the day. The kids divided the towels and other beach gear and trudged over to the Town Beach. There were just a few cars still left in the lot. A long wooden board pathway wound its way through sand dunes to the ocean. It was quite a hike up the inclined trail to the water. Addy was out of breath, but her slender kids bobbed along cheerfully. Why had she “let herself go?”

On the horizon, Addy saw the peacock blue water sparking in the late afternoon sun. She stepped out of her beach slippers and let the sugar white sand sift through her toes. Addy felt as if her heart would erupt. Yes, the Connecticut shore was nice, but something about this Maine beach was so different. It felt timeless, eternal ... Antique maps; spyglasses; young men shipping out on fishing vessels; women waiting breathlessly at the wharf’s edge to greet their sweethearts returning home from sea voyages … Connecticut had the same maritime history, but the Maine coast was more rugged, wild, confirming the passion and ceaseless transformation of nature. As she watched her three beautiful children race to the water, Addy suddenly felt ashamed of herself. Why did she continually wallow in self-pity? Look at her perfectly formed, smart, sweet babies. She spent so much time locked up in her own head or trying to dodge Lionel’s barbs; she rarely stopped to realize how lucky she was to have the children. Lionel had given her that one good, spotless gift. In fact, if you did not know beforehand they were Lionel’s children, you would never have guessed he was their father. Addy wondered why Lionel hadn’t accused her of having had sex with at least three different men because the children each looked so different.

The eldest, Peter, or Pete, his preferred moniker, was tall and lanky with blonde hair, large brown eyes, and skin that tanned easily. He was smart, easy-going, and very athletic. Lionel favored him, but Pete never took advantage of his father’s preference. On the contrary, he was loyal to Addy, James, and Mary, and would always rush to their aid. James, who preferred “Jimmy,” was very different from his brother. He also had skin that tanned easily but had curly dark brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. Addy remembered how surprised she was to give birth to a child with dark hair and light eyes. Elizabeth Taylor, supposedly the most beautiful woman in the world, was famous for her raven-black hair and violet-blue eyes. These traits made a rare combination. Jimmy preferred books to sports, but to satisfy his father, Jimmy played on the town’s soccer and baseball teams. He was also an excellent writer and artist. Unfortunately, Lionel did not view Jimmy’s gifts as “masculine.” Addy worried that as Jimmy matured, Lionel might bully him. For now, Jimmy’s role as altar server kept him safe.

Mary … sweet little Mary … had Addy’s dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and fair complexion. There was something ethereal about Mary. Delicate and sensitive, she loved nature and had an amazingly compassionate heart for such a young girl. Addy hoped wolves would not mistake Mary’s sweetness for weakness.

All the children were tall for their ages, and that was another thing that surprised Addy. Lionel was on the shorter side, and Addy herself was only 5 feet 3 inches. Everything about her children was wonderful: each was attractive, smart, considerate, and seemingly well adjusted. Who knows what the future held for them. How could they grow up with a father like Lionel and not end up on the psychiatrist’s couch? Was having a dad like Lionel better than having no dad at all?

After her near drowning experience at Sound View, Addy promised herself that if she were ever a mother, she would make sure her children learned to swim. She watched her three fish frolicking in the waves and felt more at peace than she had in years. When was the last time she enjoyed her children with such abandon without worrying about what Lionel would do next? Her chest tightened when he came to mind, but she wanted to embrace new experiences and promised herself to squelch all thoughts of him during the vacation. It would be difficult, but she resolved to keep her vow to herself. After all, an opportunity like this may never come along again.

The sun was setting, but the kids were still in the water. Addy called to them, asking if they were ready to go home. “NOT YET,” they shouted. She could hear the unfamiliar ring of freedom, joy, and harmless defiance in their voices. Soon enough, the children got cold and ran shivering to the blanket, quickly wrapping themselves in their beach towels. Addy gave them each a spritz of mosquito repellant, they gathered their things, and started down the wooden walkway. Addy could tell the kids had had a good workout in the water because they strolled at a pace she could match.

“How stupid of me not to bring a flashlight,” Addy chided herself as they stumbled along to the parking lot in the dark. The warm glow of the cottages dotting their route home lit a flicker of security and hope in her heart. These sweet dwellings seemed oblivious to any pain or sadness. They glimmered with unquestioning confidence that life has infinite goodness to offer.

When they reached the house, Addy and the kids all huddled together under the spray of the outdoor shower. Warm water in a beach shower … what a treat. Addy shuddered while recalling the torture of the freezing cold water of the outdoor showers at Sound View Beach slapping against her little sunburned body. Because the mean landlady strictly forbade sandy and dripping wet kids inside the cottages, Addy had no choice but to endure this suffering. That was the only unpleasant memory she had of that place.

When the children and she went inside, Addy had the kids take warm showers and change into their pajamas straightaway. She rinsed out their suits, hanging them on the clothesline in the lovely backyard. Addy wished she could have a clothesline at her own home, but they lived in the suburbs, where outdoor clotheslines were unpopular. She remembered how fresh the sheets used to smell when she was a little girl growing up at her aunts’ house. Addy had never even seen a clothes dryer. Maybe some rich people owned them, but all the families in her neighborhood hung their wash outside. She remembered her aunts even going out into the winter snow to hang the clothing and linens. Sometimes everything would be stiff as boards when Addy helped pick the wash off the line. They would bring the clothes inside and thaw them near the radiators. At the time, Addy was irritated that her aunts hung the sheets outside even in the winter, but now she finally understood: fresh air at all costs.

It was nearly nine o’clock, and they had not had dinner yet. The kids were starving. Just as Addy planned, she lined up paper plates and plastic cutlery, bread, cold cuts, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, mustard, and mayonnaise on the kitchen counter. She had small bags of State Line potato chips, a Massachusetts-made treat loved throughout New England. She had brought a tin of her homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

The kids rushed through the cafeteria-style line, assembling their sandwiches, then climbed up on the counter stools to feast. They laughed and joked, even talking with their mouths full. Addy sat alone at the dining room table with her chair turned to face the children. When had she ever seen them this happy at dinnertime? It was nearly eleven o’clock when they finished eating, and the kids could barely stay awake to brush their teeth. Addy tucked in Mary first, who whispered a spontaneous little prayer, “Thank you, God, for this vacation.” Addy felt the same. When she got to the boys’ room, they were already fast asleep.

Addy retired to her “suite” to get ready for bed. At first, it felt so unnatural to be using another woman’s bathroom. She could not help peeking in some of the vanity drawers; in one, she found packages of rubbers and some petroleum jelly. Hmm … the O’Malleys practiced birth control. Then, her heart sank as she imagined what it must be like to make sweet love with your husband instead of tolerating barbaric violation. From all the women’s magazines Addy had read, she understood that some couples enjoyed lovemaking well into the later years of their marriage. In fact, the magazines had begun to provide “tips” on how to remain attractive for your husband and please him in the bedroom. For a split second, Addy thought, maybe Lionel cheats because I am no longer appealing. She immediately scolded herself, not only for thinking of Lionel while on her vacation, but also for conjuring up such stupid thoughts. He had treated her in the same way ever since their honeymoon when she was still young and maybe pretty. After her bath, Addy was too tired to read or even think much. She pulled back the covers of the huge bed, hugged her pillow, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The weather remained perfect for the first three days of their vacation, and they spent each carefree day at the beach, even bringing a picnic lunch with them one day. As she watched the children dig in the sand, collect shells, and make sandcastles, she recalled her own happy days at the seashore. Had she and the children died and gone to Heaven? Every day was peaceful and filled with joy. She dared not count their remaining days of freedom.

That evening as the children played Sorry! and Addy read her well-worn copy of a collection of the works of Jane Austen, strains of Bach’s “Brandenburg Concerto No. 5,” one of Addy’s favorite pieces of music, drifted through the sun porch windows.

She looked up from her book, curious to see from where the music was coming. Addy caught a glimpse of the man in the cottage next door. He was sitting alone on his porch, reading a newspaper. She had never noticed him before and quickly brushed aside the image of his beautiful profile with the thought that his wife must be inside.

Something about the aura of this man stayed with Addy as she bathed and prepared for bed that night. He was, from what Addy could see, breathlessly handsome … the kind of man that could marry any woman he chose, and he had probably done just that. Addy imagined a striking, slender blonde waiting for him inside the cottage. How are some women so lucky?

After this first glimpse of the man, Addy kept looking over at his house or on the beach to see if she could spy him once more. She never noticed him on the beach, but one evening, she saw him sitting alone on his porch as he had done that first night. On Thursday of their first week, it started to rain. The kids grumbled, but Addy suspected they were actually relieved to get a break from the hot sun. New Englanders, fully aware of the long, cold winter ahead, dare not squander a sunny day at the beach. Yet, sunburned bodies secretly crave clouds and rain. Because they did not have to rush out to the beach that morning, Addy fussed with eggs and bacon for breakfast. They had barely finished eating when someone knocked on their door. The children looked wide-eyed at one another, trying to imagine who it could be. After all, they knew no one in Maine.