At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)(85)

"Out!" Rachel pointed toward the door. "Take your chili and eat in the den."

Cheyenne looked legitimately puzzled. "Why? I like it in here."

"So do we," Rachel said, "and we want Gracie to like it here too. I expect you back here in fifteen minutes to finish the beading."

Mother and daughter launched into a stream of friendly sparring that made the other girls roll their eyes and retreat with their bowls of chili.

"Don't you dare take that chili into the front room," Laquita warned, "or I'll kill you."

"Just cook for us," Cheyenne shot back. "That'll do it." She raced from the room before Laquita could retaliate.

"Like I said, Gracie, welcome to our family." Rachel reached back and adjusted her ponytail. Her hair was still very dark and lustrous with only the faintest icing of silver around the temples. "Not too many secrets allowed around here."

Gracie smiled weakly and concentrated on her chili. The truth was, she was beyond speech. The fact that so many people had known so much about her and Noah amazed her. Wouldn't you think one of them would have known Mona and Simon's secret too?

"There's plenty of chili in the pot," Rachel reminded them, "so help yourselves to seconds."

Gracie didn't need another invitation. She pushed back her chair and helped herself, amid a flurry of teasing comments about her rail-thin figure.

"We're all built like my mother," Laquita said with a loud sigh. "Hips the size of a VW."

"We're womanly," Rachel said. "Our hips are made for childbearing." She gave her daughter a stern look. "Your problem isn't genetics, 'Quita, it's the gallon of Ben and Jerry's you devour every week."

That led to another spirited discussion of calories, aerobic exercise, and quality of life. Gracie hadn't heard this much conversation since she lived in a dorm. The affection between Laquita and Rachel was obvious. Their teasing was gentle, funny, and inclusive. Not for one second did Gracie feel like an outsider. They meant it when they said she was family and she could feel her guard dropping with every second that passed in their company. She tried to imagine what it had been like for Laquita, growing up the oldest in such a big and boisterous family. She had always seemed older than her years to Gracie, self-contained and serene. A lot had been expected of her. In some ways she was almost a surrogate mother to her brothers and sisters which meant she had been responsible for other human beings since she was old enough to read. Gracie thought about the haven Laquita had created for herself and Ben, a soothing adult oasis of calm and quiet, and another piece of the puzzle fell into place.





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Ruth listened to the sounds of laughter floating down the hallway toward the library where she had been sitting for hours. She loved the sounds of family, the sense that the house was barely large enough to contain the lives being lived within its four walls. In the early days of her marriage, she had believed that was how it would be for her and Simon. "We'll fill this house with babies," she had promised them on their wedding night. "Sons and daughters to carry on your name." That was one of many promises she had been unable to fulfill.

Rachel's family was on their way home for the holiday weekend. The boys were hitching a ride up from Storrs, while the girls made their ways in from various points on the eastern seaboard. They came home, though, each and every one of them, which was no small testament to Rachel and Darnell.

Wiley stirred slightly in his sleep. He spent most of his time now dreaming of days gone by. They had that in common. Lately Ruth had spent a good deal of time thinking about the past. She had made so many mistakes along the way, kept too many secrets and now it seemed as if they were all coming home to roost.

Don't blame yourself, Ruth. How could you have known it would turn out this way?

Noah and Gracie had been little more than teenagers at the time, barely old enough to drive, much less fall in love. Ruth couldn't have been expected to understand the depth of what they had felt for each other. She couldn't possibly have known the repercussions. Who could blame her for believing it was a teenage romance that time and distance would turn into a dim memory.

The paper lay open on her lap, folded neatly to the page with Noah's essay.

I waited at the edge of town for her... the marriage license was tucked in the glove compartment...

How well she remembered that day. Blazingly hot, too hot even for August. The air had hung heavy as a wet sponge. Simon had been agitated for days since Del's death. She remembered that the doctor had been worrying about him. "Watch him carefully, Ruth. Stress is the worst thing for that heart of his." Oh, how carefully she had watched him. She had watched him fall more deeply into a depression that not even the doctor's strongest mood elevating drugs could touch. "Give it time," she had begged Simon. "You're recovering from a heart attack and major surgery. Your body needs time to heal." But he was beyond hearing her. Del's funeral had cast a bright light on Noah and Gracie. When Noah defended her against her father, their relationship became fodder for town gossip.