Follow the Stars Home. Luanne Rice
Amy called back.
Amy rarely spoke of her family, but Alan had given Dianne to understand that all was not well in the Brooks household. Dianne had respect for all mothers, no matter how troubled or imperfect, and she took a long breath to make herself mindful of that fact.
“What do you think we should do for my mother when she retires?” Dianne asked, changing the subject, knowing that she had touched a raw nerve. Amy was clearly not ready to open up to Dianne about the goings-on at home.
“A surprise party,” Amy said.
“She says she’ll kill us if we do that.”
“My friend Amber’s mom took her parents on a cruise for their golden anniversary.”
“A cruise …” Dianne said, mulling it over.
“Dianne,” Amy said. “Julia’s wet.”
“Okay, be right there,” Dianne said.
The game was over, and Stella crept back to her basket. Dianne went to the bathroom and returned with a clean diaper. During Amy’s first visits, Dianne had taken Julia behind the rice-paper screen to change her. They were beyond that now. Julia was eleven. If she went to camp, to gym class, to sleep over at a friend’s house, other girls would see her naked. Amy was Julia’s friend, her good friend.
“Here’s powder,” Amy said, handing Dianne the bottle.
“Thank you,” Dianne said, sprinkling it on.
“I love baby powder,” Amy said to Julia. “It’s better than perfume. I wear it to school.”
“Laaa,” Julia said.
“I always think she means flower,” Dianne said, “when she says la.”
“She does,” Amy said solemnly. As if she knew more about Julia’s language, could hear more, translate better, than even Dianne herself. Dianne was silent, wishing Julia would say something else. But she didn’t.
“La, Julia,” Amy said. “Marigold, lily, daisy, and rose.”
Julia blinked her eyes, rolling her head.
Dianne listened, watching Julia play with her friend, glad she had told Amy the story of Stella. Maybe someday she’d tell Amy the other story, the story of Julia.
The story started with the McIntosh brothers.
Dianne had dreamed of love her whole life. Her parents were wonderful people, devoted to each other and to her. She had always wanted that for herself, to find that kind of true love. Dianne’s mother had been an orphan, and she claimed Emmett had saved her. Dianne was shy, and she lived at home long after other kids her age had left. It was as if she knew that the real world was harsh, that she had to be ready before she stepped out into it.
Taking after her father, she went into carpentry. He had built her a playhouse when she was a little girl, and Dianne made one for the third birthday of a daughter of a childhood friend. She had modeled it after that white house on the harbor, the place where she fantasized someday living with a family of her own, and every mother who saw it wanted one for her own child.
Alan was then a new pediatrician in town and he commissioned Dianne’s father to build shelves in his office. Alan was young, just getting his practice off the ground, and Emmett had liked him a lot. He had suggested he buy one of Dianne’s playhouses for his waiting room. Dianne had gone to the medical arts building to get a feel for the space, and Alan had come out to meet her.
“Your father did such a good job,” he said. “I wanted to see what you could do.”
“I learned everything from him,” Dianne said, feeling shy and a little intimidated. “From the best.”
“I’ll be the only doctor in town with a Robbins playhouse. All the kids’ll want to come to me. I’ll have the edge,” he joked in a way that let her know he was partly serious, a little insecure. He was tall and thin, not much older than Dianne. He had light brown hair that kept falling into his eyes.
“Are you from around here?” she asked.
“Cape Cod.”
“And you decided to be a doctor in Hawthorne?”
He nodded. “I did my residency in New Haven, and I took over this practice when Dr. Morrison decided to retire.”
“Do you miss Cape Cod?”
“It’s not that far away,” he said, “but, yes, I do.”
“Do you have family there?” Dianne asked, knowing how much she’d miss her parents if she ever moved.
He shook his head. “Not anymore. My brother’s a lobsterman, working off Block Island this year. Half the time he ties up right here in Hawthorne.”
“That’s good,” Dianne said, nodding.
“I like the hospital here,” Alan said. “The town’s growing, and the area’s beautiful. But fitting in …”
“My dad says Hawthorners take forever to accept newcomers,” Dianne said. Even though she was just a carpenter and he was a doctor, something about Alan made her feel she could say these things to him. “Even my business started off slow, and I was born here.”
“People will find me,” Alan said.
“I’m sure they will,” Dianne said, sizing him up. If she had a child, she could imagine wanting this man to take care of her. He seemed gentle, and when he’d said ‘people will find me,’ he’d sounded quietly confident, as if he knew he was a good doctor and he knew parents would bring their kids to him.
“Don’t worry,” she said, nodding her head. “I’ll make you a beautiful playhouse.” She didn’t know why, but the promise was incredibly important to her. Back at home, she riffled through architecture books and all sorts of magazines in search of quirky details. Little kids loved things like sea horse door knockers, shutters that really closed, a mailbox to hold letters.
One night a few weeks later her mother called her to the phone and told her it was Alan McIntosh. Thinking he wanted to discuss her progress, she picked up the extension. But instead, he wanted to ask her out to dinner. Dianne was silent, holding the receiver. Working for a doctor was one thing, going out with him was another. What would they have to talk about? What would he think when he found out she’d dropped out of Connecticut College?
“Yes,” she heard herself say. “Yes, okay.”
Saturday night he said. He thought she might like to try the Rosecroft Inn.
Dianne loved the place and the evening. They sat in the grill room. Drinking champagne, she had felt the bubbles on her upper lip. It was such a romantic night. There was a pink rose on the table, a fire in the fireplace, candles flickering around the darkened room.
Alan was handsome and attentive. He seemed interested in her background, the fact that she had spent her whole life in Hawthorne. He hadn’t acted surprised when she told him about not liking college, about knowing she wanted to work with her father. He talked about his brother Neil, the reason he had become a doctor. He told her about his brother Tim, the wild man who fished the eastern seaboard, coming home only when he had to.
Curious about how two brothers could be so different, Dianne wanted to hear more. She and Alan were talking so much, the waiter had to stop by four times before they were ready to order. When the time came, she realized she had barely even looked at the menu. She ordered sweetbreads, something she had never tried before.
Alan asked her to tell him her happiest memory. She asked him about his favorite dream. He wanted to know about all her pets, and after she told him, he wanted to know how they got their names. She asked him if he believed in heaven.
She had never had a date like this before. Most of the guys she dated were locals like her. Many of them had gone to grade school together,