She could continue working with Agnes. She was really looking forward to seeing her again. Their correspondence had become a lifeline. They mainly wrote back and forth about books, and they got into some heated arguments. Agnes had reservations about Mrs. Dalloway, for example, which was as contrary as it got, whereas she extolled Roth, who mostly gave Maud the shivers. It was enjoyable to wait for the latest volley to land in her mailbox. She deeply looked forward to having these conversations over a glass of iced tea or wine.
Maud allowed the reverie to go on for as long as she could tolerate not thinking of Heidi. She couldn’t live far from Heidi, and that was that.
Heidi was still at Friend’s Hospital. She hadn’t had ECT treatments, but she had been moved to the long-term unit. Maud read deeply about depression and established an open and fruitful communication with Dr. Straight, who had not held her uneasiness against her, just as Dr. Goodman said he wouldn’t. She had several conversations with her father about what Heidi had been like in the early days of their marriage and even more particularly about their honeymoon in Maine. Why Maine, Maud had wondered, when she grew up in Florida? “It was those books,” Moses said, “the ones she used to read to you.” When they crossed Piscataqua Bridge and left New Hampshire behind, Heidi said, “finally,” as if she’d been waiting to return, though she’d never been there before.
Moses had no understanding of the list of words that Dr. Goodman had passed to Maud, but he did describe Heidi’s first serious depression. It had happened during their engagement and he’d hoped it was a one-time thing, or bridal jitters. But the depressions had kept coming and each one carved more away. She’d been in the hospital for a year now, and Maud felt she was racing against the clock to break through to Heidi before she sank under the surface permanently.
She glanced in the rearview mirror and was satisfied that all was well with Clemmie in her car seat. As it turned out, she was a good traveler, content to look out the window and occasionally doze off. Maud hadn’t been at all sure about bringing her, but Agnes insisted. They finally settled that Maud would stay in a house in the Rookerie, recently repaired by Robert and spruced up by Polly. Maud was comfortable with that solution. Clemmie wouldn’t have to be asked to be quiet all morning while Agnes wrote.
Above all she was relieved that Agnes and Polly were friends again. She’d have never imagined that people their age could have such deep conflict or be so passionate. She wished she could convey the whole situation to Heidi and once again try to convince her how much she had to live for.
She turned off Route 1 on the road that led to Cape Deel. She’d only been here once, and not for a year, but it all looked and felt familiar. She explained the sights to Clemmie with authority. Her instructions were to park at the Rookerie, unpack, eat, rest, bathe—whatever they wanted, and to come over to Leeward Cottage for tea at four.
Maud turned down Point Path and drove downhill through the glade of trees and out into the open vista. She paused. There was the Rookerie where she’d stay on her left, and the five big houses one after the next on her right. Straight ahead stood the tree wall of the Sank. It made no sense how excited she was—not even tired. She turned around to Clemmie.
“We’re here!”
“We’re here!” Clemmie clapped.
Maud pulled into the Rookerie and identified “their” house by the mussel shell wreath on the front door. She unbuckled Clemmie from her car seat and lifted her onto the grass. A puff of wind came up and blew Clemmie’s hair across her face, which made her laugh and laugh harder as she got tangled up trying to pull it back.
“Stop it, wind!” she said, slapping at the air.
Maud would have to try to tame that mane before teatime.
“Oh my God, the ocean!” Clemmie squealed. “I want to swim.”
It was no use telling her not to say oh my God. She was imitating—her mother. Maud was the one who’d have to change.
“This water is too cold for swimming,” Maud said. Clemmie looked at her quizzically. “It’s icy! Brr.”
Clemmie looked around. “I want to climb on the rocks.”
“So do I. But right now let’s look at our house, okay?”
Clemmie put her fists on her hips. “This house? Is for me and you?”
“It is. We have a whole week here.”
“Amazing.” She raised her hands and shrugged, then started up the steps. “What are you waiting for, Mommy? Come on!”
They explored the house from bottom to top, chose bedrooms, and then traded. They both had a view, Maud’s of the Sank, Clemmie’s of the sea. “We trade every day,” Clemmie said, shaking her pointer finger with authority. Maud wondered how she knew what was the more desirable—the water view—at age four. How did such information filter through? She was proud that Clemmie was so fair-minded, but how had that filtered through? Fairness wasn’t dominant in their lives.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“A snack would be nice,” Clemmie said.
Agnes had said the refrigerator would be stocked. “While I make something, you pick out what you want to wear this afternoon to meet the people. We might need sweaters later, so choose a sweater, too.”
“Okay, Mommy, and I’ll pick your clothes.”
“Thank you.” She knew better than to resist. All she had to do was try the clothes on and Clemmie wouldn’t notice if she ended up wearing something else. Though lately she had been noticing. She was developing so quickly that Maud could barely keep up. She made the mistake of treating her as though Clemmie were about four months younger than she was, which aroused much indignation.
Maud noticed the details of the house now that she had a moment alone. Why was it that she felt so comfortable here? Yes, it was simple and thoughtful and clean and serene, and decorated with one-of-a-kind pieces. But it wasn’t that. She looked back and forth from ceiling to floor and wall to wall until she had it. It was the proportions. They soothed her brain. The design vision of Agnes’s great-grandfather, who prized peace.
Clemmie came down in a purple dress and sandals. She’d remembered the extra layer, though the choice had been interpreted to include sweatshirts.
“Here’s your snack.” Maud had found sandwiches already made in the refrigerator. She ate half, standing up. “Will you stay here while I go change?”
“Of course, Mommy. Right here.”
Still, Maud was quick. She didn’t want to overestimate Clemmie either. A small girl slid along a continuum of competencies. Maud changed into a clean pair of trousers and a French-striped long-sleeved shirt, small gold earrings and a locket, both matching well with Heidi’s bracelet. She slipped her feet into a pair of espadrilles. She felt like the M girls in these clothes. She headed back down.
“Ready? Oh wait. I have to brush your hair.”
“No thanks, Mommy. I like it wild.”
Oh boy. What was fourteen going to be like?
* * *
Before she could knock on the front door, she heard her name being called, and there came Polly and Agnes around the side of the house.
“We were waiting on the porch,” Polly said, hugging Maud.