Q is for Quarry Page 57


“But why did Sarah and Maura object to my mother’s marriage? What business was it of theirs?”

“Well, none. It really wasn’t the marriage so much as what that did to the family. Once the battle lines were drawn, Grand was unyielding, and neither your mother nor Virginia would give in.”

“But what was that about? I still don’t get it. It’s not as if my father was a bum.”

“I don’t think Grand had any personal objections to your father. She saw the age difference as a problem. He was what, thirty-five years old to your mother’s eighteen?”

“Thirty-three,” I said.

Susanna shrugged. “Fifteen years. That really doesn’t seem like much. I think Grand’s problem was Rita’s marrying on impulse. Grand did that, too—married Daddy on a whim the day she turned seventeen. He was twice her age, and I think they’d known each other less than a month. I suspect she may have regretted her haste, but divorce wasn’t an option in those days, at least for her. She never likes having to admit she’s wrong so she stuck it out. They were devoted to each other, but I’m not sure how long her infatuation survived. I know it’s an old story, but I suspect Grand was hoping to express an un-lived part of her life through Rita.”

“I can understand that. What you’re saying makes sense.”

“What is it that bothers you? That’s part of what I’d like to address.”

“I’m thirty-six years old... thirty-seven in three weeks. I’ve lived all my life without a clue about this stuff. From my perspective, it sure seems like somebody could have let me know. I’ve said this before to Tasha and I don’t mean to harp, but why didn’t anyone ever get in touch? Aunt Gin’s been dead now for fifteen years. Grand didn’t even come down for the funeral, so what’s that about?”

“I’m not here to argue. What you’re saying is true and you’re entirely correct. Grand should have come down here. She should have sent word, but I think she was afraid to face you. She didn’t know what you’d been told. She assumed Virginia turned you against her, against the whole family. At heart, Grand’s a good person, but she’s proud and she’s stubborn—well, face it, she can be impossible sometimes—but Rita was stubborn, too. The two of them were so much alike it would have been comical if it hadn’t been so destructive. Their quarrel tore the family to shreds. None of us have ever been the same since then.”

“But Grand was her mother. She was supposed to be the grownup.”

Susanna smiled. “Just because we’re old doesn’t mean we’re mature. Actually, Grand did reach out. I can remember half a dozen times when she made a gesture toward your parents only to be ignored or refused. From what I understand, your father stayed out of it as nearly as he could. The fight was Rita’s, and while he was certainly on her side, she was the one who kept the game alive. Virginia was even worse. She seemed to relish the split, and I’m really not sure why. She must have had issues of her own. In my experience, any time someone makes such a big deal about autonomy, it’s probably a cover for something else. So, Grand tried to include them, especially after you were born, but they’d have nothing to do with her. If she and Daddy were out of town, the three of them would come to visit and, of course, they’d bring you, but there was always a stealthy feel to it. I remember thinking they enjoyed it, sneaking around behind her back.”

“Why?”

“Because it forced the rest of us to declare ourselves. Every time we welcomed them—which we did on numerous occasions—it put us squarely in their camp. Maura and Sarah felt guilty about deceiving Grand. She’d come home from a trip and none of us would say a word. Sometimes I have to wonder what she knew. She has her network of spies, even to this day, so someone must have told her. She never let on, but maybe that was her way of making sure there was contact even if she couldn’t enjoy it herself.”

I thought about it for a moment, turning her comments over in my mind. “I’d like to believe you, and I guess I do in some ways. I know there are two sides to every story. Obviously, Aunt Gin took it seriously enough to maintain silence on the subject until the day she died. I never knew any of this until three years ago.”

“It must be difficult to cope with.”

“Well, yes. In part because it’s been presented to me as finished business, a done deal. To you, it must be old news, but to me it’s not. I still have to figure out what to do with my piece of it. The breech had a huge impact on how I turned out.”