laugh—to her credit.
“I’m going,” I pronounced. “I’m nearly twenty-two years old. There’s nothing here for me in Clinton. From this point forward, where I live should be my decision.”
“That’s laying it on a bit thick, Vivian,” said my mother. “You won’t be twenty-two until October, and you’ve never paid for a thing in your life. You don’t have the faintest notion of how anything in the world functions.”
Still, I could tell she was pleased by the tone of resolve in my voice. My mother, after all, was a woman who had spent her life on horseback, hurling herself at ditches and fences. Perhaps she was of the opinion that when faced with the challenges and obstacles of life, a woman should leap.
“If you take on this commitment,” said my father, “at the very least, we expect you to see it through. One cannot afford in life to do less than one promises.”
My heart quickened.
That last, limp lecture was his way of saying yes.
Peg and I left for New York City the following morning.
It took us forever to get there, as she insisted on driving her borrowed car at a patriotic, gas-preserving thirty-five miles an hour. I didn’t care how long it took, though. The sensation of being pulled back toward a place I loved—a place that I had not imagined would ever welcome me again—was such a delightful one that I didn’t mind stretching it out. For me, the ride was as thrilling as a Coney Island roller coaster. I was more keyed up than I’d felt in over a year. Keyed up, yes, but also nervous.
What would I find, back in New York?
Who would I find?
“You’ve made a hefty choice,” said Peg, as soon as we got on the road. “Good for you, kiddo.”
“Do you really need me back in the city, Peg?” It was a question I had not dared to pose in the presence of my parents.
She shrugged. “I can find a use for you.” But then she smiled. “No, Vivian—it’s quite true. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with this Navy Yard commission. I might have come for you sooner, but I wanted to give you more time to cool your heels. In my experience, it’s always important to take a break between catastrophes. You took a bad knock in the city last year. I figured you’d need some time to recover.”
This reference to my catastrophe made my stomach flip.
“About that, Peg—” I started.
“It is no more to be mentioned.”
“I’m so sorry for what I did.”
“Of course you are. I’m sorry for many of the things I’ve done, too. Everyone is sorry. It’s good to be sorry—but don’t make a fetish of it. The one good thing about being Protestant is that we are not expected to cringe forever in contrition. Yours was a venial sin, Vivian, but not a mortal one.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I’m not sure I do, either. It’s just something I read once. Here is what I do know, however: sins of the flesh will not get you punished in the afterlife. They will only get you punished in this life. As you’ve now learned.”
“I only wish I hadn’t caused so much trouble for everyone.”
“It’s easy to be wise after the event. But what’s the use of being twenty years old, if not to make gross errors?”
“Did you make gross errors when you were twenty?”
“Of course I did. Not nearly so bad as yours, but I had my days.”
She smiled to show she was teasing. Or maybe she wasn’t teasing. It didn’t matter. She was taking me back.
“Thank you for coming to get me, Peg.”
“Well, I missed you. I like you, kiddo, and once I like a person, I can only like them always. That’s a rule of my life.”
This was the most wonderful thing anyone had ever said to me. I marinated in it for a while. And then slowly the marinade turned sour, as I recalled that not everyone was as forgiving as Aunt Peg.
“I’m nervous about seeing Edna,” I said at last.
Peg looked surprised. “Why would you see Edna?”
“Why would I not see Edna? I’ll see her at the Lily.”
“Kiddo, Edna’s not at the Lily anymore. She’s in rehearsals right now for As You Like It, over at the Mansfield. She and Arthur moved out of the Lily in the spring. They’re living at the Savoy now. You didn’t hear?”
“But what about City of Girls?”
“Oh, boy. You really haven’t heard anything, have you?”
“Heard anything about what?”
“Back