Once Upon a River Page 0,110

her.

“What do you think of the lake?” Luanne asked.

“It’s big,” Margo said. “It’s nice.”

“I knew you’d love it. Can you believe this house?” Luanne gestured around the big room, at the tall windows, white-painted walls hung with black-and-white photographs of what at first appeared to be beach landscapes, but were actually close-ups of women’s bodies. The big fireplace with the marble mantel was swept clean, as though it had never contained a fire, and sitting on the mantel were a few abstract sculptures in sandy colors. The thick off-white carpeting had not a stain on it. Luanne nodded toward the lake. “See how beautiful the view is? Roger fusses about goose poop on the lawn, but it doesn’t bother me. He runs out and chases them away when they show up.”

“I’m pregnant,” Margo blurted out. That word felt ugly and dishonest in her mouth.

“What? No. Oh, no. Sweetie. How far along are you?”

“Three months.”

“You’re not even showing. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I know I didn’t take care of you when I should have, but I will now. Are you feeling sick in the mornings?”

“Not anymore.”

“Whose is it?” Luanne asked. “Is the guy in the picture?”

“He’s gone.”

“I guess we women have to take care of ourselves.” Luanne studied Margo beside her. “God, you’re beautiful, Margaret. I was so depressed back in Murrayville, I don’t think I even looked at you the last few years I was there.”

“Joanna always said being beautiful was a curse.”

“She would say that,” Luanne said. “Being beautiful should be fun.”

“I’m hungry, Ma,” Margo said.

“Of course you’re hungry. You’re eighteen. And you’re pregnant. I was pregnant when I was eighteen.” Luanne stood and Margo followed her into the kitchen.

“I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“Roger eats at work, and I try not to keep much food in the house when he’s gone, so I’m not tempted by it. Here’s something.” She pulled a metal can of cheese spread out of the refrigerator and put out some crackers. When Margo picked up the can and looked at it, Luanne took it from her, removed the lid, and sprayed orange cheese onto one of the crackers. Margo carried the plate and the can into the living room, and they sat on the luxurious couch. Margo ate one cheese cracker after another, enjoying the surging water sound of the spray. She offered the plate to her ma. Luanne shook her head.

“I talked to Aunt Joanna a few months ago,” Margo said. “She thought maybe I could stay with her at the house and finish school.”

“Poor Joanna. What a life she’s got. Do you want to finish school?”

Margo shook her head.

“I didn’t, either. You know I was only seventeen when I married your father.”

“Joanna had another baby. Another boy.”

“Christ. She’s got to be forty. How’d Cal talk her into that? Six kids. Six boys.” She laughed.

Margo startled at the sound of the name Cal spoken so casually. Brian had said it with such venom, Joanna with such reverence. This way of saying his name made more sense with the weakened version of Cal she had seen. “It’s a Down’s baby,” Margo said.

“Down’s baby?”

“They had to get rid of all the dogs, even Moe, because they made the baby cry. Billy said the baby’s a retard.”

“Oh, Down’s syndrome. Like a Mongoloid. Joanna has her work cut out for her. Good thing she’s such a hard worker.”

“If I stayed, I could have helped with the baby.”

“Good thing you got out of there. She’d have worked you to death, sweetie.”

“I don’t mind working hard.”

“What about fun? What about pleasure? I think those things are the purpose of life. Women like Joanna find that view distasteful.”

Margo shrugged.

“But I do work hard, in a way. Nowadays I have to work hard to look young. Even a fifty-year-old man like Roger, who can’t tolerate children, expects me to look like a teenager.” Luanne laughed. She took hold of Margo’s hand and held it for a moment. “I forgot how quiet and serious you are. You look so pretty that people probably don’t mind you don’t have anything to say.”

Margo watched gulls skim the water outside and land near shore. She wondered if they could stay on the lake all winter.

Annie Oakley’s mother had not wanted her to come home at first; she had wanted to send her daughter back to the wolves. Annie won her way into her mother’s home through the hard work of hunting and trapping, by being able to support the whole family, including