He caught himself in midthreat, put his head down, then picked up his wineglass. “All I want to say is, I love all of you. All of you. And may we be together always … and always be together.”
Other than Ethan, who said, “Where. Ice. Cream. Be?” no one responded. I gave Sal a half hearted thumbs-up and poured myself some more wine. It could have been worse.
“When the going gets tough, the wine gets going,” Mary said. I thought this was an attempt at humor and started to smile, until I saw the look on her face.
“It’s just wine,” I said.
Sally stood. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Sal, watch my purse.”
“No one’s taking your purse.”
Once she was gone, Mary said, “Don’t you have anything you want to say, John?”
“No. I think Sal said it all. Other than we all love you Karen—”
Mary cut me off. “Don’t you want to tell us where you’re taking Ethan?”
I didn’t think I heard her right. I couldn’t have heard her right. My throat tightened. “What?” I squeaked.
“Tell us where you’re planning on going. Where you’re taking Ethan, or at least, wanted to take Ethan.”
I had heard her right. I tried to clear my muddled mind. “What do you mean?”
“You tell me what I mean.”
I looked at Mindy, who shrugged. “I didn’t tell her.”
“What’s going on?” Sal asked. “Where you taking him? Are you coming back on the plane with us? We have to take the noon flight. It’s the only one.”
“I got a call today, a few hours ago,” Mary announced. “From the Ocean View Home in Camden, Maine. That’s where John is taking Ethan. That’s where Ethan is going to live for the rest of his life. They wanted to know if I had signed the final consent papers yet.”
“Where. Ice. Cream. Be?”
“Home? Papers? What’s she talking about, John?” Sal asked.
“John is taking Ethan to Camden, Maine, to live for the rest of his life, and he didn’t tell me.”
“What the hell is she talking about?” Sal asked.
“Where are you taking him?” Karen asked. “What’s going on?”
“He’s taking him to a place in Maine. A home for people like him,” Mindy said.
“To live?” Karen asked.
“Yeah,” Mindy said.
“And you knew about this?”
“He just told me. I didn’t know about it. He told me earlier today in the car.”
“So you told Mindy and not me?”
“I said he just told me!”
I was woefully unprepared for this, woefully outnumbered and woefully drunk. I offered token resistance. “It’s a good place,” I said.
Mary deliberately pulled her napkin from her lap and folded it carefully before placing it on the table. “You didn’t think they were going to call me?”
Everyone was staring at me, even Ethan. “It’s a good place,” I said again.
Mary glared and stood up. “The minute he was accepted, you should have told me. The minute. I’m his mother.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I know. But…”
“We should have made this final decision together.”
“I know, I know.” I tried to walk toward her, but she pointed at me, so I stopped. “Don’t. Don’t,” she said.
“Mary. Please, just listen, please.”
She picked up her purse and stormed off, narrowly avoiding our waiter, who was approaching with the desserts. I watched as she disappeared through the doorway. Mary, Mary, sweet contrary.
“Where. Mom. Be?” Ethan asked as the waiter placed his hot fudge sundae in front of him. “Where. Mom. Be?”
*
I left right after Mary but did not give chase. Instead I wandered numbly through the crowded streets of Charleston, berating myself. I should have known they would try to contact her. It was a stupid and selfish plan. I was a stupid and selfish person. I walked for a long time.
I no longer remember how I made my way to the Inn, but somehow there I was, back on the balcony, alone again. It was a starless night, and I felt weightless in the dark, listening to the tide of the Atlantic.
“Dark. Outside,” I said.
I swung my legs up on the railing and closed my eyes. Why had I decided this had to happen? I needed to think things through so I could explain them to Mary.
Over the past two months, I had been spending a lot of time with Ethan, much more than usual, as Mary immersed herself in the logistics of the wedding, and attending to Sally, who was recovering from her final round of chemotherapy. Since school was out for the summer, I had Ethan a good part of every day, a brutal stretch of survive and advance. Consequently, I was frazzled, exhausted, and constantly teetering on the edge of the Black Despair.