The Novels of Madeleine l'Engle Volume One by L'Engle Madeleine;

Author:L'Engle, Madeleine;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
Published: 2017-07-27T00:00:00+00:00

SEVEN

They called Florida, Mac simply stating the facts in a flat, unemotional voice while Camilla listened on the bedroom extension.

For a moment there was silence at the other end of the line, then a low cry from Olivia.

Mac said, ‘Mama, you are coming tomorrow as planned, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I’m coming. You’ll need me more than ever now.’

Mac said, ‘Thank you, Mama. It makes me feel much better about leaving Camilla.’

‘Leaving—’

Mac’s voice continued, without timbre. ‘Mama, you do remember that I’m going to England.’

Art’s voice came on the other line. ‘But Frank—’

Mac cut across his father’s words. ‘Frank needs me.’

Camilla let the phone drop beside her on the bed. Mac was downstairs in the study for the usual four-way conversation.

‘Cam!’ His voice floated up the stairway. ‘Where are you?’

She picked up the phone. She could hardly get the word out. ‘Here.’

‘Oh, my dear.’ Olivia’s voice sounded flat. Then, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Mac’s feet could be heard coming up the stairs slowly, not his usual leaping up two or three steps at a time. When he stood in the doorway she did not look at him. She could not stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. Rose is dead, is dead. Mac is going to Korea, to Kenya, to—to England, to Frank. Oh. Father, poor father …

She felt a fresh surge of anger, whether at her mother once more, even in death, revealing her infidelity, or at Mac for his—

So? she asked herself. Mac already had the tickets to England, a special rate; he would be penalized if he canceled or put his flight off.

He went down to the kitchen and returned with hot milk and nutmeg in one of the mugs they had saved from the Church House, cracked and stained, but treasured. He put the “Dumky” Trio on the turntable. Quantum followed him into the room and jumped onto the bed, peering at Camilla anxiously, then beginning to purr.

Again, tears filled her eyes. But that was all right. If she wept he would think it was for Rose, for Rafferty, for the baby.

She pressed her knuckles against her lips to try to stop. But she did not speak to him about her feeling of abandonment. She could not bring herself to say, ‘Mac, please don’t leave me now. I need you.’

‘Mother,’ Frankie had once said, ‘the trouble with you is that you will avoid confrontation at any cost.’

But what good, in most cases, would confrontation do? It would only exacerbate what was already pain and anger.

Would Mac have stayed if she had asked him?

Olivia arrived the next afternoon. Mac had packed quietly, taking his clothes out of the closet, out of drawers, down to his study, leaving quietly as soon as he had kissed his mother goodbye. Camilla went downstairs and sat in the rocking chair in the kitchen, a chair which had been given them by the ladies of the Altar Guild. She had made chicken salad, sliced some tomatoes and sweet onions with basil. That would be plenty for dinner for herself and Olivia.

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