He hurt your feelings twenty-five years ago, and you just walked away from him? This person who knew your brother? This veteran?”
I said, “That car ride was the worst thing that ever happened to me, Peg.”
“Oh, was it?” snapped Peg. “Did you think to ask the man about the worst thing that ever happened to him?”
She was becoming agitated, in a manner that was not at all in character. This was not what I had come for. I wanted comfort, but I was being scolded. I was starting to feel foolish and embarrassed.
“Never mind,” I said. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have bothered you today.”
“Don’t be stupid—it’s not nothing.”
She had never spoken to me this sharply.
“I should never have brought it up,” I said. “I interrupted your game—you’re just irritated with me about that. I’m sorry I burst in here.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the goddamn baseball game, Vivian.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just upset and I wanted to talk to someone.”
“You’re upset? You walked away from that wounded veteran and then came here to me, because you wanted to talk about your difficult life?”
“Jesus, Peg—don’t come down on me like this. Just forget it. Forget I said anything.”
“How can I?”
Then she started coughing—one of her awful, jagged, coughing fits. Her lungs sounded barbed and brittle. She sat up, and Olive pounded on her back for a bit. Then Olive lit another cigarette for Peg, who took the deepest drags she could, interspersed with more fits of coughing.
Peg composed herself. Dummy that I was, I was hoping she was about to apologize for having been so mean to me. Instead she said, “Look, kiddo, I give up here. I don’t understand what you want out of this situation. I don’t understand you at all right now. I’m just very disappointed in you.”
She had never said that. Not even all those years ago, when I had betrayed her friend and nearly capsized her hit show.
Then she turned to Olive, and said, “I don’t know. What do you think, boss?”
Olive sat quietly with her hands folded over her lap, looking down at the floor. I listened to Peg’s labored breathing, and to the sound of a window shade on the other side of the room, tapping in the breeze. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what Olive thought. But there we were.
Finally Olive looked up at me. Her expression was stern, as always. But as she chose her words, I could sense that she was choosing them carefully, so as to not do unnecessary harm.
“The field of honor is a painful field, Vivian,” she said.
I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.
Peg started laughing—and again coughing. “Well, thank you for your contribution, Olive. That settles everything.”
We sat there quietly for a long time. I got up and helped myself to one of Peg’s cigarettes, even though I’d quit a few weeks earlier. Or had sort of quit.
“The field of honor is a painful field,” Olive went on at last, as though Peg had not spoken. “That’s what my father taught me when I was young. He taught me that the field of honor is not a place where children can play. Children don’t have any honor, you see, and they aren’t expected to, because it’s too difficult for them. It’s too painful. But to become an adult, one must step into the field of honor. Everything will be expected of you now. You will need to be vigilant in your principles. Sacrifices will be demanded. You will be judged. If you make mistakes, you must account for them. There will be instances when you must cast aside your impulses and take a higher stance than another person—a person without honor—might take. Such instances may hurt, but that’s why honor is a painful field. Do you understand?”
I nodded. The words, I understood. What this had to do with Walter and Frank Grecco and me, I had no clue. But I was listening. I had a feeling her words would make more sense to me later, once I had time to give them more consideration. But as I say—I was listening. This was the longest speech I’d ever heard Olive make, so I knew this was an important moment. Actually, I don’t think I’d ever listened more carefully to anyone.
“Of course, nobody is required to stand in the field of honor,” Olive continued. “If you find it too challenging, you may always exit, and then you can remain a child. But if