me to catch it,” Maggie said. “She threw it right at one of her friends but it bounced off somebody’s elbow and just landed in my hands. I wasn’t even trying.”
“It’s okay,” Celeste said. “I caught the bouquet at your mom’s wedding and I was already married. Maybe if you’re married and catch it it means you’re next to be divorced.”
The three of them sat looking over the fields behind them. There were twenty-four houses now: four complete, the rest in various stages of framing and finishing. The remains of the charred house had been razed, and another had already been framed in. For a moment Maggie remembered what the fields had once looked like, and then the memory was gone, and she thought that in a few months she would not even be able to remember what Kenwood had been like before the development started.
“It really looks different back here,” said Celeste, who had always been able to read Maggie’s mind.
“It’s going to change the whole place,” said Connie. “They’re going to build twenty-four more after these. Some builder has plans for a shopping center just down the road. We’ll be surrounded.”
“I saw your friend Joe on the avenue yesterday when I was picking up groceries for my mother,” said Celeste. “I told him he missed his chance with me. I haven’t seen him around here too much lately.” Celeste squinted at her cousin in the bright sunlight. She’d always been able to read Connie’s mind, too.
“He’s busier now.”
“Have you finished your driving lessons?” Celeste asked.
“I have my temporary license. My permanent one comes any day now. I drove my mother-in-law over to Calvary Cemetery the other day all by myself. And now at least I have ID if someone in a bar doesn’t think I’m twenty-one.”
“No small accomplishment,” said Celeste, and she arched one penciled eyebrow.
“Give it a break, Ce,” Connie said.
“Are you moving?” Celeste asked.
“I think so. It’s funny how I just lost all my upset about it. My mother-in-law needs us over there. The question is whether to move into her house or the one down the street. Tommy says they may need to sell the other one to pay some of the bills from the business.”
“We really might move?” Maggie said.
“I don’t know,” Connie replied. “Let’s wait and see how your grandmother does.”
“Grandmother, Schmandmother,” said Celeste. “You’ll have five kids soon, and you’ve got four bedrooms. You’ll have to start hanging them from the chandeliers. That’s a nice big house the old lady’s got.”
“Give it a break,” Connie repeated.
“How’s being married, Aunt Celeste?” Maggie asked.
“It’s better this time,” Celeste said thoughtfully. “But still it’s the same. It’s not natural, having someone else telling you what to do all the time. But at least we’re not arguing about how much I spend on my clothes. When I was married to your Uncle Charlie, one little blouse and—pow! He broke my nose once over a winter coat.”
“Don’t tell her things like that, Cece,” Connie said. “It’ll make her think all marriages are like that.”
Celeste lifted her eyebrow again.
“They’re not. Look at my mother-in-law. She’s a changed person since her husband got sick.”
“Probably dancing in the aisles,” said Celeste, lighting a cigarette.
“You know that’s not true. That man was her whole life. That’s the thing the kids don’t understand. I was looking at Monica yesterday and thinking, she has no idea. It’s not just a man. It’s your house, your kids, your family, your time, everything. Everything in your life is who you marry.”
“That’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you make, Con,” said Celeste somberly.
Connie stared across the fields, her lips still red with a trace of lipstick from the day before. “Somebody moved into one of those houses yesterday,” she finally said. “I saw the truck from the upstairs window when I was getting ready to go out.”
Celeste shrugged. “Big deal. You know what Sol always says. The more things are different, the more they’re the same.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Maggie said.
“Yeah it does,” said her aunt. “Think about it.”
Upstairs a screen was lifted with a sound like fingernails on a blackboard. “Connie,” came Tommy’s tortured voice. “I need tomato juice.”
Celeste laughed. “I’ll come in with you,” she said as Connie rose. “Put some vodka in it. That’ll make him feel better.”
Maggie stayed out on the patio and thought about what her aunt had said. The more she thought aboutit, the more she thought it was ridiculous. She thought about life with her grandfather gone,