Summer of '69(67)

“Helen said Jessie did it. That’s enough proof for me. Helen doesn’t lie.”

“Jessie doesn’t steal.”

“Maybe she was doing it to get attention,” Bitsy says. She leans back in her chair and lights a cigarette. “I’m sure that’s it, poor girl. One sister is pregnant with twins, one sister is raising hell on Martha’s Vineyard, and she has a brother at war. I feel sorry for Jessie, which is what I told my girls. Let her keep the money and the lip gloss if it makes her feel better.”

Arturo arrives with their dinners and Kate stands up. “You two enjoy,” she says. “I’m going home.” She tosses her napkin on her chair and weaves her way through the dining room, past the godforsaken phone booth, and out to the patio, where she waves goodbye to Gwen, the owner, who is deep in conversation with the artist Roy Bailey.

“It was a wonderful evening, as always,” Kate calls out. “Thank you.”



She rages as she walks back to the house. Bitsy Dunscombe is a…a…well, frankly the right word eludes Kate, but Bitsy certainly knows how to put an end to a lifelong friendship. Kate will never speak to her again. How dare she accuse Jessie of stealing and then insinuate it’s because Kate doesn’t pay enough attention to her!

Kate passes Bosun’s Locker and considers stopping in for a drink. All the regulars would likely fall off their bar stools or laugh her right out of the place. Wilder used to go to Bosun’s and Kate would either call and ask for him to be sent home or march down and yank him out of there herself. Those nights were preferable to the nights when she stormed into the bar expecting to find him and he wasn’t there.

She will not go to Bosun’s Locker.

But maybe the Charcoal Galley? The six escargots and piece of bread didn’t do much in the way of filling her up. She could go for a greasy cheeseburger with griddled onions and a side of gravy fries, but she figures she’s likely to bump into the same characters from Bosun’s at the Charcoal Galley this time of night, either filling up after a day of drinking or fueling up before a night of drinking.

She turns left onto Fair Street. She’s loaded for bear, as the saying goes. She has let Bill Crimmins have enough time. She will knock on his door—who cares if he’s asleep?—and demand answers. Has he heard from his brother-in-law about Tiger’s discharge?

She knows that he hasn’t. If he had, he certainly would have let her know. But Kate will ask anyway. She expects results—and soon!

Kate is two houses away when she sees a taxi pull up in front of All’s Fair. For an instant, her heart soars. It’s Tiger, come to surprise her. Or it’s Kirby—yes, Kate does miss her wild second daughter terribly. She would be delighted if it’s Kirby; her night would be salvaged. Or…maybe it’s David. Kate wishes she hadn’t drunk half a bottle of champagne, two martinis, and a glass of cabernet. David has come after all, but he will see that nothing has changed. Kate is a lush. Worse—a drunk.

Even in the dark, she distinguishes the figure of a man. So, David. Kate rushes forward, thinking her only hope at this point is to throw herself on his tender mercies. But as she gets closer, she sees the man isn’t David. It’s Angus, Dr. Angus Whalen, who sees fit to cheat on his wife while she’s pregnant with twins.

“Stop right there,” Kate says, and Angus does indeed freeze in his tracks on the sidewalk in front of the house. Angus is smart but not particularly strong or intimidating. With his glasses and his pointy nose, he resembles nothing so much as an intelligent mouse. Kate feels affronted on her eldest daughter’s behalf, plus she’s furious with Bitsy. This does not bode well for Angus.

“What are you doing here?” Kate asks.

“I came to see my wife,” he says. His eyes follow the taxi as it drives off down Fair Street.

“First of all, she’s asleep,” Kate says. “Second of all, you have some nerve showing up here unannounced after throwing your pregnant wife out.” Kate squints. The street is dark and she’s having a hard time seeing Angus clearly. She’s happy that the anger in her voice masks her advanced state of drunkenness. “How dare you.”

“I caught her with my brother,” Angus says. “Did she tell you that?”

“She did, in fact, Angus. She said you misconstrued their embrace. She was merely seeking comfort from Joey because she’d discovered your infidelity.”

“About that…” Angus says.

But Kate doesn’t want to hear any excuses or explanations from Angus; she was married to a serial philanderer for ten years! She has heard enough excuses and accepted enough apologies to last the rest of her life! Kate notes how satisfying it is to reject this disgusting behavior instead of accepting it as Bitsy Dunscombe is doing and as Kate once did. Blair may end up divorced, but at least she’ll retain her pride.

“I’m asking you nicely to leave this island and never return,” Kate says. “Blair deserves better. Maybe your brother will know how to treat her, and if he doesn’t, she will easily find someone else. You and I both know that, Angus. Go now, please.”

“I need to talk to her,” Angus says. “I need to see her.” He pulls at his hair—Like a mental patient, Kate thinks. “She’s carrying my babies.”

“You should have considered that before you strayed,” Kate says. “And before you asked her to leave. Good night, Angus, and goodbye.”