hamlets and villages and up to Laconia and Lake Winnepesaukee itself, twenty miles to our north. There, alone with Peter in a still green twilight on the shores of that beautiful old lake, I heard for the first time the neck-prickling, heart-swelling cry of a loon.
I turned a rapt face to Peter. He smiled.
“You’ll get used to them,” he said. “We have them in the harbor in Retreat.”
I was silent for a while, and then I said, “I don’t want to go, Peter. I’m afraid of Retreat. I’m afraid of everything there.
I’m never ever going to be able to please your mother. You think because you can sweet-talk her out of any mood that I can too, but I can’t.”
He laughed. “You just have to let her know right up front she can’t boss you,” he said. “Who’s ever bossed you, Maude?
What have you ever been afraid of? You, who handle water snakes and paddle right up to gators and swim in that god-forsaken black swamp water and stay out in the jungle by yourself for hours and days?”
I said nothing. I don’t think Peter ever really understood the depth or quality of the fear I felt for his mother and her world and the cost for me of accommodating to it all those years. He could always handle her; she doted on him as I have never known another woman to dote on a son, and her marblelike imperiousness never daunted him as it did me and others. It was useless to try to explain to him how I felt.
But I did say, “Why couldn’t we just vacation somewhere else this one summer and go to Retreat next year? Along the coast here, or on this lake even; it looks wonderful, and there are all sorts of cottages we could rent.”
“Because I don’t start getting paid until September,” Peter said. “And we have just about enough money left to get us up to Retreat. We’re pretty poor, Maudie. We’re not apt to have much money ever. Even if I got to be a headmaster someday, somewhere, there wouldn’t be a lot.”
“I don’t care about that,” I said honestly. “You know that.
We’ve talked about it. I’ve never had any money to speak of.
I won’t miss it.”
“Well, I’ve had lots. Really lots. I probably won’t get any more, because it’s in Mother’s name and I don’t think she’s going to part with any of it unless I go into the bank. It’s her last weapon; she’s not going to give it up. And I won’t do that. I don’t think I’m ever going to want anything more than teaching here or somewhere. I’m not very ambitious, my poor Maudie. I just wanted to be sure you didn’t mind.”
“Lord, no,” I said. “My mother’s family never gave us any of theirs either, not really. How could I miss what I never had? Let’s just make our own, enough for the two of us, and tell the rest of the world to take a hike. Crawl into bed and pull the covers up over us, and never come out.”
He smiled at me, and the sweet, thick warmth in the pit of my stomach that stayed there most of the time began its slow coil up inside me once more. Sometimes I could scarcely breathe with the knowledge that for the rest of my life, whenever we wanted, Peter and I could lie down wherever we wished and do to each other the things that we did in the cool nights and pale dawns of Northpoint, New Hampshire. Who, I thought, reaching up to touch his face, cared about money when they could have that?
Peter put his hands on my breasts and pushed me back down onto the old blanket we had brought with us.
“You’re going to have a hard time realizing we don’t do this in Retreat,” he said, putting his hands under my clothes.
He ran the fingertips of one down my stomach, along the line of dark hair that grew there, and into the dark warmth below it.
I rolled over to face him, opening my legs.
“You’re kidding,” I breathed into his neck. It was hot, scalding.
“Oh, no,” he said, easing over onto me. His hardness pressed against my thighs and then slipped down between them. “Nobody fucks in Retreat.
I turned a rapt face to Peter. He smiled.
“You’ll get used to them,” he said. “We have them in the harbor in Retreat.”
I was silent for a while, and then I said, “I don’t want to go, Peter. I’m afraid of Retreat. I’m afraid of everything there.
I’m never ever going to be able to please your mother. You think because you can sweet-talk her out of any mood that I can too, but I can’t.”
He laughed. “You just have to let her know right up front she can’t boss you,” he said. “Who’s ever bossed you, Maude?
What have you ever been afraid of? You, who handle water snakes and paddle right up to gators and swim in that god-forsaken black swamp water and stay out in the jungle by yourself for hours and days?”
I said nothing. I don’t think Peter ever really understood the depth or quality of the fear I felt for his mother and her world and the cost for me of accommodating to it all those years. He could always handle her; she doted on him as I have never known another woman to dote on a son, and her marblelike imperiousness never daunted him as it did me and others. It was useless to try to explain to him how I felt.
But I did say, “Why couldn’t we just vacation somewhere else this one summer and go to Retreat next year? Along the coast here, or on this lake even; it looks wonderful, and there are all sorts of cottages we could rent.”
“Because I don’t start getting paid until September,” Peter said. “And we have just about enough money left to get us up to Retreat. We’re pretty poor, Maudie. We’re not apt to have much money ever. Even if I got to be a headmaster someday, somewhere, there wouldn’t be a lot.”
“I don’t care about that,” I said honestly. “You know that.
We’ve talked about it. I’ve never had any money to speak of.
I won’t miss it.”
“Well, I’ve had lots. Really lots. I probably won’t get any more, because it’s in Mother’s name and I don’t think she’s going to part with any of it unless I go into the bank. It’s her last weapon; she’s not going to give it up. And I won’t do that. I don’t think I’m ever going to want anything more than teaching here or somewhere. I’m not very ambitious, my poor Maudie. I just wanted to be sure you didn’t mind.”
“Lord, no,” I said. “My mother’s family never gave us any of theirs either, not really. How could I miss what I never had? Let’s just make our own, enough for the two of us, and tell the rest of the world to take a hike. Crawl into bed and pull the covers up over us, and never come out.”
He smiled at me, and the sweet, thick warmth in the pit of my stomach that stayed there most of the time began its slow coil up inside me once more. Sometimes I could scarcely breathe with the knowledge that for the rest of my life, whenever we wanted, Peter and I could lie down wherever we wished and do to each other the things that we did in the cool nights and pale dawns of Northpoint, New Hampshire. Who, I thought, reaching up to touch his face, cared about money when they could have that?
Peter put his hands on my breasts and pushed me back down onto the old blanket we had brought with us.
“You’re going to have a hard time realizing we don’t do this in Retreat,” he said, putting his hands under my clothes.
He ran the fingertips of one down my stomach, along the line of dark hair that grew there, and into the dark warmth below it.
I rolled over to face him, opening my legs.
“You’re kidding,” I breathed into his neck. It was hot, scalding.
“Oh, no,” he said, easing over onto me. His hardness pressed against my thighs and then slipped down between them. “Nobody fucks in Retreat.
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