“All I’m saying is that it’s not so bad.”
“And I'm saying it’s the worst thing ever, now piss off!”
I did a fair job of pulling it together for the next few hours and not crying it in front of Nigel and Nattie, but once they had gone, I cried like someone had died.
Oliver went back and forth between comforting Carolena, who had planted herself on the front porch in a stubborn attempt to force Alexander to allow Nigel to stay, and me, who was sobbing hopelessly in the kitchen.
“They’ll be back,” He rubbed my shoulders. “They didn’t move out of country! They’re fine!”
“How do I know that?”
“Silvia,” Oliver sighed, “You know I love you, but you have control issues, Sweetheart. You don’t need to protect them from Alex and Lucy.”
“Alex I do! He’ll bash Nigel!”
“No, he won’t bash him!” Oliver laughed, “No more than the boy needs! And whether you want to admit it or not, Nigel needs a bash here and there! Alex won’t beat him to death! Our dad would strike us when we were particularly terrible and we lived!”
“But I won’t see them every day!” I bawled, “Lucy’s staying home with them! They’re my babies sure as I bore them out of my own body and I had to give them away! Just like that! Bang! They’re gone!” I know it sounds insane, but I swear my breasts were aching like they did just after my own children were born. It was like a physical need to find Nattie and Nigel and hold them close. “I miss them so much!”
“Ah, Sil, I know. I miss them, too, already. It’s way too quiet. No one’s screaming, nothing’s spilling or breaking. Alexander’s not shouting. It’s very strange.” He glanced around the room, “But I need you to come with me now. Caro wants you outside. She doesn’t quite understand what’s happening and she needs you to help her see why they’ve left. She’s had it with me. She’s says she’ll stand on the porch until Nigel comes home.”
It was even harder on Carolena to watch them go. She didn’t understand at all why we couldn’t all just continue to live together at the wood. She’d never known it any other way. “Why can’t they sell their house?” She demanded, clinging to her yellow rabbit, “And come back here?”
“Uncle Alex has asked Auntie Lucy to marry him,” I tried to explain, crouching in front of her so I could look her in the eye, “When people get married they get a house of their own.”
“You’re married and you have a house and we all lived here before!”
“Uncle Alex needed a place to stay for a while,” I told her, “He couldn’t take care of Nigel and Nattie by himself. He was alone then. It was never supposed to be forever they lived here. Now he has Lucy to help him and they’ve gone to Welshpool, not far from your grandmum and granddad’s house, near the park, so when we visit…”
“I want my Nigel!” She screamed, “I don’t care! I want my Nigel!”
“What if we ring him, Muffin?” Oliver suggested, “Would that be OK? Would you like to talk to Nigel on the phone?”
Caro sniffed and nodded.
Every night for a while, if she didn’t see her Nigel, Carolena would call him before she went to bed. It was enough to get her by. The three of us adjusted after a time to seeing the others when we could, but our happiest times were when we were all together at the wood. Those were the times when everything seemed as if it were perfect and right.
My husband’s twin brother married my little sister on a cool and breezy Saturday afternoon in November. The ceremony was lovely and simple, held in the same church where Alexander and Oliver’s parents had been married and where the twins and all of our children had been baptized. Just our families and a couple of old friends from Bennington were in attendance.
Lance was there, of course, taller than he ever had been before, and sporting a brand new haircut, with his girlfriend, Daneen, who must have been a half giant, Oliver said, because she was at least three inches taller than her date. I’d met her two times before and I liked her quite a lot. She seemed a sweet woman and I hoped that Lance had found his Miss Right after never having had a lot of luck in the love department. Lance, for all of his goodness, deserved to fall in love and live the rest of his life with someone who appreciated him.
I was shocked at Merlyn Pierce, though. He’d grown up for sure. My husband and I were standing in the churchyard when Oliver suddenly turned away from me and bolted toward the road shouting, “I’ll stop the world and melt with you, Merlyn Pierce!”
There was a gigantic black man standing in the middle of the street with his arms held wide open, “You see the difference and it’s getting better all the time, Oliver Dickinson!” He bellowed.
“There’s nothing you and I won’t do, Merlyn Pierce!” A second later they were embracing, banging each other on the back. Merlyn had Oliver in a bear hug, swinging him off the ground, even though Ollie was a good four inches taller, “Good Lord, Merlyn Pierce! It’s been donkey’s years!”
Merlyn shoved him off, “Blimey, Ollie! You haven’t changed one damn bit! Mother of God, you’re heavy, though!”
“You are!” Oliver laughed, “I see your love of pastry has caught up to you! Your head’s big as a bloody globe!”
Merlyn rubbed his belly and laughed. “Yes, it has!” He put his hand over his eyes to block the sun, “Is that Silvia?”
“Why, yes, it is!” I walked toward him, “Merlyn Pierce! You devil!”
Merlyn swept me off my feet and spun me around, “Silvia Cotton! How on God’s earth are you?” He set me down and turned, “Oh, forgive me, Darling! Oliver, Silvia, this is my beautiful wife, Penny!”
We said hello and stood out in the road for a while longer chatting until Oliver insisted that we go inside and find Alex.
Merlyn was so fat I thought he’d never fit into the church, but he managed to squeeze through. His wife was twice as big as he was, too. They both looked absolutely wonderful and they were obviously happy together.
Lance had been the only one out of us who’d seen Merlyn regularly since graduation. He ran to the back to get Alex and we all met in the sanctuary. All of us were talking and shouting, poking and pulling on each other. We could have been back at Bennington for all the laughing and swearing that was going on, in a church even, but it didn’t seem to matter since three of the four children were running wild and making more noise than we were.
“Are they yours?” Merlyn asked Oliver, “Obviously, the red head is!”
“Yes, that’s Carolena. This chap’s mine, too,” Oliver motioned to the car seat on the end of the pew where Gryffin was sleeping peacefully, “The other two are Alex’s. Cute, huh?”
Merlyn and Penny drew out photos of a lovely, chubby little nine year old daughter, Mindy, that they’d left back home in France.
“Wow!” I said honestly, “Oliver, look at this little muffin! She’s absolutely precious!”
Oliver took the photo, “Blimey, Merlyn! I haven’t seen her since she was about five! She’s a daisy! She looks like your wife!”
“Thank you,” He replied, swollen with pride. “Your children are gorgeous, Oliver! And yours, too, Alex! Who would have ever thought we’d be old dads one day?”
“I figured we’d be playing snooker in the pubs,” Alex answered honestly, “None of it was ever in my plans.”
Merlyn put his arm around his wife’s neck, “The very best things are the ones no one plans, yeah?”
“Absolutely,” The twins answered in tandem.
If we had ever mentioned children when we were students at Bennington it was more or less as a criticism of our parents for sending us off in the first place. Oliver and Alexander were there for dual reasons. The first was that it was a fine preparatory college and their parents wanted only the best for them. The second was simply that the combination of the two of them and their mischief was more than the poor pair could manage and they wanted to keep their sons out of trouble. Lucy and I went because our father lacked the ability to parent us. Lance’s father had died when he was ten and his mother felt boarding school was the most stable environment for him to be in until she could collect herself and bring him home. He had ended up loving it so much she kept him in. Merlyn, different from us, was only there because his parents were older when he was born and, having already raised three girls, they were too busy with their careers and social agendas to want to bring him up. He was tossed away, privileged style.