Gerald's Game(50)

"Because he sticks up for me," she murmured.

Yes; that was the bottom line. Her father stuck up for her, and her mother stuck it to her.

Jessie saw the evening star glowing mildly in the darkening sky and suddenly realized she had been out on the deck, listening to them circle the subject of the eclipse-and the subject of her-for almost three-quarters of an hour. She discovered a minor but interesting fact of life that night: time speeds by fastest when you are eavesdropping on conversations about yourself.

With hardly a thought, she raised her hand and curled it into a tube, simultaneously catching the star and sending it the old formula: wish I may, wish I might. Her wish, already well on the way to being granted, was that she be allowed to stay here tomorrow with her Daddy. To stay with him no matter what. just two folks who knew how to stick up for each other, sitting out on the deck and eating Eclipse Burgers a deux... like an old married couple.

As for Dick Sleefort, he apologized to me later, Tom. I don't rememberif I ever told you that or not-

You did, but I don't remember him ever apologizing to me.

He was probably afraid you'd knock his block off, or at least try to, Sally replied, speaking again in that tone of voice Jessie found so peculiar-it seemed to be an uneasy mixture of happiness, good humor, and anger. Jessie wondered for just a moment if it was possible to sound that way and be completely sane, and then she squashed the thought quickly and completely. Also, I want tosay one more thing about Adrienne Gilette before we leave the subjectentirely...

Be my guest.

She told me-in 1959, this was, two whole summers later-that shewent through the change that year. She never specifically mentioned Jessieand the cookie incident, but I think she was trying to apologize.

Oh. It was her father's coolest, most lawyerly "Oh." And dideither of you ladies think to pass that information on to Jessie...andexplain to her what it meant?

Silence from her mother. Jessie, who still had only the vaguest notion of what "going through the change" meant, looked down and saw she had once again gripped the book tight enough to bend it and once again forced herself to relax her hands.

Or to apologize? His tone was gentle... caressing... deadly.

Stop cross-examining me! Sally burst out after another long, considering silence. This is your home, not Part Two of Superior Court,in case you hadn't noticed!

You brought the subject up, not me, he said. I just asked-

Oh, I get so tired of the way you twist everything around, Sally said. Jessie knew from her tone of voice that she was either crying or getting ready to. For the first time that she could remember, the sound of her mother's tears called up no sympathy in her own heart, no urge to run and comfort (probably bursting into tears herself in the process). Instead she felt a queer, stony satisfaction.

Sally, you're upset. Why don't we just-

You're damned tooting I am. Arguments with my husband have a wayof doing that, isn't that strange? Isn't that just the weirdest thing youever heard? And do you know what we're arguing about? I'll give youa hint, Tom-it's not Adrienne Gilette and it's not Dick Sleefort andit's not the eclipse tomorrow. We're arguing about Jessie, about our daughter, and what else is new?

She laughed through her tears. There was a dry hiss as she scratched a match and fit a cigarette.

Don't they say it's the squeaky wheel that always gets the grease? Andthat's our Jessie, isn't it? The squeaky wheel. Never quite satisfied withthe arrangements until she gets a chance to put on the finishing touches.Never quite happy with someone else's plans. Never able to let well enoughalone.

Jessie was appalled to hear something very close to hate in her mother's voice.

Sally-

Never mind, Tom. She wants to stay here with you? Fine. She wouldn'tbe pleasant to have along, anyway; all she'd do is pick fights with hersister and whine about having to watch out for Will. All she'd do issqueak, in other words.

Sally, Jessie hardly ever whines, and she's very good about-

Oh, you don't see her! Sally Mahout cried, and the spite in her voice made Jessie cringe back in her chair. I swear to God, sometimesyou behave as if she were your girlfriend instead of your daughter!

This time the long pause belonged to her father, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and cold. That's a lousy, underhanded,unfair thing to say, he finally replied.

Jessie sat on the deck, looking at the evening star and feeling dismay deepening toward something like horror. She felt a sudden urge to cup her hand and catch the star again-this time to wish everything away, beginning with her request to her Daddy that he fix things so she could stay at Sunset Trails with him tomorrow.

Then the sound of her mother's chair being pushed back came. I apologize, Sally said, and although she still sounded angry, Jessie thought she now sounded a little afraid, as well. Keep her tomorrow,if that's what you want! Fine! Good! You're welcome to her!

Then the sound of her heels, tapping rapidly away, and a moment later the snick of her father's Zippo as he lit his own cigarette.

On the deck, Jessie felt warm tears spring to her eyes-tears of shame, hurt, and relief that the argument had ended before it could get any worse... for hadn't both she and Maddy noticed that their parents" arguments had gotten both louder and hotter just lately? That the coolness between them afterward was slower to warm up again? It wasn't possible, was it, that they-