“Yeah, that’s right. Jesus. This whole idea is crazy. Everything.”
I could have easily ignored this casual comment, but chose not to. During the last horrible hour on the road, between pleas for Ethan to be quiet, I had reconsidered the Sals’ sudden presence in Camden, growing increasingly suspicious and angry. What, exactly, were they doing here? When, exactly, did Mary call them?
“What do you mean? What whole idea?”
“You know, the whole thing.”
I stopped walking. “What whole thing?”
“Nothing. You know, the whole thing. The home, everything. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Talk about what later?”
“Nothing. Just want to make sure you’re okay with everything, that’s all. It’s a big decision.”
My suspicions were being confirmed. I sensed one last gang tackle. “Did Mary and the girls put you up to this? Huh? Is that what this whole thing is about? You and Sally all of a sudden being here? Is this some kind of a setup? Some kind of intervention? Some last-ditch effort to try and get me to change my mind? It’s not going to work, Sal. So you came a long way for nothing. We decided as a family we’re doing this. He’s staying here for at least six weeks, probably forever.”
Sal stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. “For Christ’s sake, relax, John. No one put me up to nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just thought maybe you might want to talk, make sure you’re okay with everything.”
I wouldn’t let it go. “What do you mean make sure I’m okay with everything?”
“Forget the whole thing. I make one comment, you go nuts.” Sal waved his hand. “Go take a shower, and we’ll grab a drink. They got a bar downstairs.” He started up the steps.
I didn’t move. “I’m not sure why you’re here, okay? But I can assure you that there’s nothing to talk about. There’s nothing to talk about at all.”
*
I made my way up to my room, dropped my bags in the closet, opened the window, and stared over a tree line at the water. I tried to calm myself by focusing on a small cluster of sailboats as they glided into the harbor, but my efforts were for naught: things were quickly closing in. We were finally here. We had come to the end.
My anxiety was building, when Mary called my room. “Should we head up there?”
I closed my eyes.
“Hello? John? Are you there?”
“It’s late.”
“It’s not even three o’clock.”
“They’re really not expecting us until tomorrow. I’m tired. I don’t want to go.”
“The girls want to go. And it’s been a year since I’ve been there.”
“Nothing’s changed. I was just there.”
She didn’t say anything. I opened my eyes. “Mary?”
“You don’t have to come. We’ll be back in a couple of hours, and then we can get something to eat. So relax, take a nap. The Sals have Ethan for a while.”
“I want to be with him.”
“The Sals have him. They’re gone. Sal wanted to show him some boats or something.”
The mention of Sal cleared my head. “I think we need to get something straight. I’m in no mood to debate anything with you or … or your Tony Soprano brother-in-law, okay? This is hard enough.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I now know why you really wanted them here. Some last-ditch effort, some muscle to persuade me. What, he’s going to threaten me? Break my legs? I’m not scared of Sal.”
“Take a nap. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m not going to take any shit from him or anyone else. Okay? This is difficult enough.”
“Stop yelling.”
“I’m not yelling.”
“We’re going to the home,” Mary said. “We’ll see you in a while.”
“Fine! Do whatever you want!” I slammed the phone down and took deep breaths.
*
Sal picked a lobster place on the water that Mary and I had been to the year before. Though I remember the food being good, I had no appetite. I alternated between looking out at the darkening ocean and staring at Ethan, who was innocently spooning lobster bisque. The girls, though subdued, seemed strangely relaxed, chatting away about a reality TV show. No one was talking about Ocean View, a fact that confused and irked me. Didn’t they know what was happening the day after tomorrow? Didn’t they know?
Throughout the evening I had repeatedly asked about their impressions of the home and received only brief but positive responses. Whenever I pressed the issue, the subject was changed. I tried once more to engage them.
“So, you all liked it? Ocean View?”
“Well, I’ve been there before,” Mary said.
“Yeah, we told you, we thought it was nice,” Karen said.
“Yeah,” Mindy said. “Real nice.”
“So, that’s it?”