to do. Then she realized that he couldn’t help her, he couldn’t call her—they had agreed they would not speak by phone until Olive had told Chris—and so she deleted what she had just written and wrote instead, It’s okay, I just miss you. Hang in there! Then she added: (More soon.)
Back down in the kitchen the silence remained. “What’s the matter?” Olive asked; she heard the anger in her voice.
“There’s not much milk, Mom. There was only a little. So Annabelle got it, and Theodore has to have his Cheerios plain.” Christopher was leaning against the counter as he said this, one ankle crossed over the other.
“Are you serious?” Olive asked. “Well, I’ll go back—”
“No, just sit, Mom.” Christopher nodded at the chair that Theodore sat in. “It’s okay. Theodore, give your grandmother a chair.” The child, with his eyes down, slid off the chair and stood.
Ann’s back was to her, and Olive could see Little Henry on one of Ann’s knees, Ann was holding the baby too. “What about the rest of you?” Olive asked. “What can I get for you? How about some toast?”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Christopher said again. “I’ll make some toast. You sit, Mom.”
So she sat at the table across from her daughter-in-law, who turned and smiled her phony smile at Olive. Theodore moved to his mother and whispered something into her ear. Ann rubbed his arm and said quietly, “I know, honey. But people live differently.”
Christopher said, “What’s up, Theodore?”
And Ann said, “He was just commenting on the paper bag the Cheerios came in, wondering why Olive didn’t use a recycling bag.” She looked at Olive and shrugged a shoulder. “In New York, we recycle. We bring our own bags to the store.”
“Is that right?” Olive said. “Well, good for you.” She turned around and opened the bottom cupboard and just about flung the recycling grocery bag onto the table. “If I hadn’t been in such a hurry I would have used this.”
“Oh,” said Ann. “Look at that, Theodore.” And the child moved away from the table, then he turned and went into the study. Ann was handing Little Henry a Cheerio. Little Henry did not seem in such a good mood this morning. “Hello, Little Henry,” Olive said, and he did not look at her, just looked for a long moment at the Cheerio in his hand before putting it into his mouth.
* * *
The day was very sunny and bright; all the clouds from yesterday had gone, and the sun shone through the house. Outside—through the big living room windows—the bay was brilliant, and the lobster buoys bobbed just slightly; a lobster boat was headed out; the trees across the bay were a fine line. It was decided they would all drive out to Reid State Park to watch the surf. “The kids have never really seen the ocean,” said Christopher. “The real ocean. They’ve seen the crappy stuff that floats up to New York. I’d like them to see the Maine coast. I know we’ve got it right here”—he nodded toward the window where the bay was sparkling—“but I’d like them to see more of it.”
“Well, let’s go then,” Olive said.
“We’ll have to take two cars,” Christopher said.
“So we’ll take two cars.” Olive stood up and scraped the uneaten toast left by Theodore into the garbage. In her whole life, Olive would not have allowed Christopher to waste toast like this, but what did she care? Let that beastly child waste all the food he wanted.
Once outside, Olive was surprised by Christopher saying, “Mom, when did you get a Subaru?” He didn’t say it pleasantly, is what she felt. She had put the car in the garage the day before; it was only out now because of her trip to the store.
“Oh,” she said, “I had to get a new car, and I thought, I’m an old lady on my own, I’ll get a good car for the snow.” She could not believe she said that. It was a lie. She had just lied to her son. The truth was, the car belonged to Jack. When her Honda had needed new brake pads, Jack had said, “Take my Subaru, Olive. We’re two people with three cars, and that’s ridiculous, so take the Subaru, and we’ll keep my sports car because I love it.”
“I can’t believe you got a Subaru,” her son said again, and Olive said, “Well, I did. And that’s that.”
The time it took to get things arranged,