They were in Leon’s office when the song came on. He turned up the volume just as the announcer said, “and now, a beautiful oddity from tropic climes. Sit back and experience ‘Green Circle,’ played by the inimitable — Kitty Rohhhssssse.” The voice on the radio drew her name out in a long, breathless whisper that marked it as a mainland transmission. No island disc jockey would have announced the elderly Kitty Rose in that manner.

Just as the opening notes began, the door swung open.

“What’s going on?” Gwennie demanded.

Leon sighed.

Gwennie marched over to where Judith sat, her eyes accusing. “You said you would read to me until the book was done.”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Judith said brightly, as if she hadn’t put the girl in bed an hour ago, tucked her in, listened to her prayers, brought her water, read her twenty pages of Five Children and It, and then tiptoed gratefully out once Gwennie’s eyes had closed. It had just been five minutes since she’d sat down on the sofa. “Sit here. You can listen too. It’s all right, isn’t it?” she glanced towards Leon, who nodded.

Gwennie settled on the sofa next to her.

Judy had already heard about “Green Circle” being a mainland hit and was glad for the chance to hear it for herself. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever heard before,” one of her classmates had told her. It certainly didn’t sound like most of Kitty’s songs. There were no vocals, just the strange notes plucked from her guitar, a melody in a minor key that was not quick, but felt quick, seemed to grab you, pull you along.

Leon listened with his eyes closed. He adored music, tended to lose himself in it completely. A single note offkey and he would grimace and clap his hands over his ears, as if it actually hurt him, but this song plainly entranced him. He even smiled slightly.

The music wound down to its close. Yes, very nice, thought Judy. Maybe at last Kitty would get some recognition outside the Island.

“Wow,” Leon murmured softly over a commercial for Spry. Then he looked at his daughter and frowned.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he said to Gwennie.

“Cousin Judith said….”

“Cousin Judith is tired, Gwen. She’s done a lot of work today and now she’s going to have to go home and study. Stop bothering her and go to bed.”

Gwennie hopped off the couch, and took a few steps towards her father, her green eyes blazing.

Then her face relaxed into that disarming smile which meant she was about to say or do something outrageous. She’d looked like that the time she’d held out a lump of sugar to Judy and made whickering noises.

“Oh, woof, woof, woof!” she said.

Leon was on his feet. “GO TO BED!”

They could hear her giggling as she ran up the stairs.

“Should I go check on her?” Judy asked.

He shook his head. “No. Marion will be home in a minute. She’ll get Gwennie into bed.”

“You know, Leon, Gwennie can be an absolute angel during the day.”

This was an exaggeration. During the day Gwennie was just mischeivous rather than a terror. Her teachers tended to smile when they punished her because she was so bright for her age, and so funny. At night, however…. Maybe she just had too much energy to go to bed at the same time other children did.

Leon’s eyes were on the ceiling, as if he were following his daugher’s movements upstairs. Judy decided to change the subject. “So Tidal Music has Kitty Rose on the label now. Did she really travel all the way to California to record it?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he said, tearing his eyes from the ceiling and looking at Judy. “Lee told me on the phone last week it was a kind of a spur of the moment thing. Kitty was traveling through California with Jean Paul and his friend, and naturally they dropped in on Lee and Derek in L.A., and while she was there…” Leon raised his head again as if he’d heard something.

“Marion’s here,” he said.

Judy listened, but she couldn’t hear anything. Then, after a moment, she heard the sound of the garage door closing.

Marion came in, and, as always when the Dudays were in the same room, the air seemed to grow thicker.

Marion pecked Leon lightly on the cheek before turning to smile at Judy. “How did our girl behave tonight?”

“She got out of bed again,” said Leon, before Judy could respond.

“Marion, could you please go up now and check on that kid? She’s prowling around upstairs.”

Marion clucked her tongue in irritation. “Don’t you know she’s just trying to get a rise out of you? If you wouldn’t carry on about her she’d get bored and stop misbehaving so much.”

“I told her to go to bed,” he said, “and when I tell her something I expect…”

“Then, you go up, Leon. ‘That kid‘ is your daughter. You need to learn to handle her.”

Marion rather pointedly turned towards Judy.

“So, what do we owe you for tonight? You were organizing Leon’s files this afternoon for about two and a half hours, and then minding Gwen after I left for the meeting, so that’s five and… Let’s round it up to six hours, shall we?”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

“Leon…”

“I’m writing the check now,” he said, bent over his desk.

“Judy, we’re not taking up too much of your time, are we? I know your course-load must be demanding.”

“It’s Saturday, so really it’s no trouble at all.

“And it’s no problem to do one or two nights a week,”said Judy.

Leon handed her the check, nodding his thanks, then returned to his desk and sat down, staring up as if he were listening with all his might.

“I think it’s a very fine thing you’re doing,” said Marion. “So independent, to take those difficult classes and work part-time!”

“A lot of girls wouldn’t have either the industry or the gumption,” she continued. “I know I wouldn’t have at your age.”

“Thanks Aunt Marion. You and Uncle Leon have been great. It does mean a lot to me that not everyone thinks I’m crazy.” She really needed to get home and crack open a book. “Bye Uncle Leon.”

“Bye,” he said absently.

As they walked through the foyer, Marion gave her hand a squeeze. “Crazy? Absolutely not,” she said. “I think you’re saner than most people I know. It’s very wise for a girl to start up a little nest egg of her own.”

They stepped through the front door into the warm, singing Island night.

“You really shouldn’t let what other people think influence you too much,” said Marion.

“You’re being very sensible. When the time comes, you’ll have saved up for a lovely trousseau. And with a mind like your’s, it’s essential that you marry someone who’ll be able to talk to you, really talk about things you both like. It’s so important to take an interest in your husband’s work.”

Judy was struggling to make sense of what Marion had just said when they heard a crash somewhere upstairs, shrieks of childish laughter, and the sound of Leon pounding up the stairs.

Marion pursed her lips in a wry smile and opened the door behind her. “Gotta go! You drive safe!”

“Marion!” Leon’s anguished voice called from inside the house, over the sound of Gwennie’s exhultant whoops.

The door closed.

For a moment Judy stood staring at the closed door.

Then she turned to walk to her car, resigned.

Aunt Marion thought she was taking pre-med classes to snag a smart doctor husband Judy could talk to in bed.

Judy paused before opening her car door, and looked down the road at the bridge that led to Pity-Me Island. Leon and Marion’s house was certainly nicer than the Castle, but it was still a bit creepy that Great-Grandmere had built it for them so close to her own home. Leon supposedly worked for Caddell and Birch in town, but Judy suspected he spent more time driving across that bridge than he did going to his office in the Caddell building.

She started the car and pulled out onto Pittime Drive. Yes, it was Saturday, but she was volunteering at St. Elmo’s tomorrow and if she were going to finish that chapter in organic chemistry she needed to start it tonight. On Monday she would have to stop by the Maritime to deposit her check.

The balance was mounting up nicely. When the time came for her to tell everyone her plan — her hope, her dream that she wanted so much, so badly, that sometimes she lay in bed at night thinking about it, her heart pounding — at least she’d be able to tell her parents she could help offset the cost. Mother and Dad might be thrilled. Or, they might be horrified. It was hard to predict. One thing was certain.

A trousseau and a husband and children were the last things on Judy’s mind these days.

***

“Turn that bloody thing off!” Tel shouted suddenly, just as Bill took his seat.

Felicia’s voice in the next room sounded mutinous. “For pity’s sake, Tel, it’s…”

“I know what it is! Turn it OFF!” he roared. Tel’s voice lowered to a mutter. “The nerve, the absolute crust of that man…” The music stopped with an angry, audible click, and there was the sound of Felicia closing a cabinet hard.

This was a little disappointing. Bill thought “Green Circle” was a lovely bit of music, and it would have made a pleasant backdrop to their conversation. But plainly his father-in-law wasn’t feeling well tonight.

In fact, Bill was shocked by his appearance.

Tel was unshaven and had lost a lot of weight. A scent hovered around him, something faintly astringent and sour and burnt. When he got home, Bill would have to tell Bridget to visit her parents. It would upset her, he knew, and put her out of sorts, but she needed to know her father might not have much time left.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Tel said, and he smiled. “If you hadn’t come, I was planning to call you. I can guess what you want to see me about.”

Of course, Bill thought. Working or retired, healthy or sick, Papa Duday was still Papa Duday, the man who knew everything that was going on in the island. How could Bill have thought his talk with Artiste about the committee wouldn’t get back to Tel?

And then Tel leaned forward and lowered his voice as he always did when talking about family matters. “It’s about this foolishness with our little Judy, isn’t it?”

“Bill, you’re her father, a finer father than many men whose daughters share their names. As her grandfather, I know this, and I’m grateful, and you must understand that anytime you need help, you can come to me. It was one thing when she started attending those classes filled with men all around her and equations and Le Bon Dieu knows what other scientific deviltry written on the blackboards. I can understand that.”

“The poor girl was born with a male mind, and she’d go mad stuck in some class where they taught cooking and sewing and primping.”

“But now, I learn she has gone so far as to take part time jobs? She has opened her own account at the Maritime?” Tel shook his head. Plainly, that, above all things, had shocked him to his core. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner? If you and Brigitte are in trouble, if you need money, you surely know I would help.”

Bill opened his mouth to speak, but Tel held up his hand. “Now, now, no foolish pridefulness, son. Hear me out, and then you can give your answer.”

“Let us speak honestly, here. Men are men, and Judy does not have a pretty face. Yes, I have heard of young sprouts squiring her about, but I have not heard any wedding bells in the offing, and I am sure our clever girl has noticed this. I know women, and while she’s a proud little heroine and won’t let on, believe me, it hurts her terribly to be trifled with in this manner. And she’s getting on. She’s getting frightened, Bill. Desperate.”

“Now, if you cannot accept money from me for a dowry that would bring in some truly serious suitors, if that would trouble you too deeply, there is another solution. And frankly, I think, a better one.”

Tel’s eyes sharpened with his old, wicked zest.

“Say the word, and I can find her a husband. Within a month. A wealthy, handsome husband who would love her and care for her and give her many children. He’d be clever, too, someone she could talk to and respect. I’ve thought about this and there are at least five men on the Island I could…”

“Oh, Tel, really, I don’t think Judy would…”

“She would love him too! I can ensure that. Trust me, son, I can ensure her happiness.”

“Now, what do you say?”

For a moment, Bill was speechless. Tel looked so hopeful, so excited by the prospect of helping, that Bill felt bad about refusing. My God, he thought. This is what Bridget meant.

Long ago, shortly after he’d proposed to her, Bridget had wrung a promise from him.

“Some day,” she said, “Maybe soon, maybe many years from now, my father will offer you something. It will be something that seems impossible, crazy even. Out of a fairy tale. You must say no, Bill. No. Even if you want it more than anything. Even if you think Papa is mad and needs to be humored and you want to make him feel better. Refuse it. Promise me you will do that.”

And he’d promised, with some trepidation.

What a relief, now the time had come, that Bill felt no hesitation about his answer.

“Tel, I really appreciate it. Truly I do. We’re in no financial difficulties. Certainly we’re not exactly rich, but we have nothing to complain about.”

“Judy wants to do this. It’s not about a dowery. It’s about… She wants to have some nice things when the time comes, and it means something to her that she get them for herself.” Bill wasn’t sure whether this were so or not, but he doubted Tel would understand any other explanation. “As you’ve said, she has a male mind. And a male pride in earning. I see no harm in letting her get some pin money so she can buy herself pretty things.”

Tel seemed to digest this for a moment.

“Well,” he said finally. “I guess you have a point. Marion said something very similar to me. You’re Judith’s father and you know best, so I won’t interfere. She’s a sweet, church-going girl, and I know we can trust her not to get into any trouble. But I must say, a good husband looking after her would be one less matter keeping me awake at night.”

“So,” Tel continued, “I suppose this is about…”

The tray rattled as Felicia set it down on the table next to Tel, and she planted herself in between the men. “No more talk,” she said firmly. “Not until you drink your tonic.”

“Damnit, woman…”

“And no blaspheming.”

She held a glass out to him. “Two draughts, just like you told me. I said I would hold you to it, darlin’, and what I say I do.”

Tel took the glass, rolling his eyes and snorting hard through his nose, and she turned towards Bill. “There’s one for you, too,” she said, pointing at the glass closest to him. “I hope you enjoy it. All us old folks drink night tonics in this house. Do me a favor and make sure this one,” she jerked her head towards Tel, “drinks both of his.” And she picked up a fourth glass and strode out, gently ruffling her husband’s hair as she passed.

“Le Bon Dieu preserve us from nagging women,” muttered Tel.

Bill picked up the glass she’d indicated and sniffed it. It had the same sweetish, faintly enticing scent of Bridget’s tonics. “Does Felicia have a table, too?” he asked.

“God no. She has enough to do without that. I make the tonics around here. Drink up. You’ll like it.”

Bill started to sip his cautiously, but the flavor was so wonderful, the sense of well-being that flooded him so intense, that he found himself finishing it. He felt as though he could vault over the sofa and run laps around the house. Good Lord, he thought, staring down at the empty glass. It was like what Bridget made for him times twelve. What was in this stuff? It couldn’t possibly be legal. He set the empty tumbler back on the tray.

Tel was staring down at his own glass as though steeling himself.

He took a deep breath, and gulped it down.

Then sat still for a moment, his face tightened into a grimace.

“The older and sicker you get,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, “the more horrible they taste. Like… Like earwax smells. Or would smell if you pissed into it and then cooked it. That’s what it’s like.”

He let out a long, shaky breath and opened his eyes.

“There,” he said, setting the glass aside. “That’s a bit better.”

“Aren’t you supposed to…”

“Won’t do me any good if it all just comes back up again. I’ll take the next in a few minutes. Now, as I was saying… This is about that Free Milk Committee you want to form, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You are an experienced man. You need no advice from me about setting up a do-gooder club. Unless you want to know a bit more than the ABCs.”

“I’m an off-islander, Tel.”

“You’ve been here over twenty years.”

“But you are the expert on the local families.”

“You know their hearts. You know how they are likely to react, how best to get them to understand the need for such a committee.”

“Know their hearts. Get them to understand. Hmmm. Yes.”

“I’m worried,” Bill continued, “that we might face some fairly stubborn opposition on the grounds of morality.”

“You mean the ladies’ committees won’t like the idea of loose women and their little bastards getting free milk.”

Bill could do nothing but spread his hands and sit back.

“No doubt about it,” Tel said, nodding. “The ladies will kick. And that means their husbands will kick too. You’ll need leverage. Obviously our Mayoress would be one place to start. She doesn’t give a shit about sick kiddies, but if you frame it to her just right, she’ll go along.”

“And how do I frame it?”

“You have a meeting with her in private. You have a meeting with her alone. Do you understand? Nobody else. You and her. Preferably at night. And you say exactly this:”

‘My wife’s grandmother would consider it a very wise and just course of action.'”

“Would she?” asked Bill.

“First recite those words back to me, boy. It has to be exactly those words. I don’t want you mucking it up with your mainland notions about tact and sophistication.”

“My wife’s grandmother would consider it a very wise and just course of action.”

“That will do the trick.”

“But would she? Would Madame Duday support it?”

“God only knows. Maman doesn’t concern herself with such things. Let’s just say she’d approve of you using her name.”

“That will get the Abbot woman on your side,” he continued. “I’m sure you know how to make it palatable. Tell her some crap about mainlanders admiring her as a forward looking leader striving to drag our backwards folk into the 20th century.”

“So long as she can pretend to herself that really, it’s something she’d have thought up on her own given a little time. You’re good at that.”

“As for the primary families — the Bonneys, the Cascios, the Tallendiers, that lot — I plan to make a few phone calls. As you say, I know their hearts.” Bill heard the mocking lilt of the word ‘hearts’ – “…and I know exactly who they’ve been sticking those hearts into.”

“Oh now, Tel” Bill said, “I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I didn’t come here to ask you to…”

“You came here because this plan is important to you, makes you feel alive again. And that’s a good reason. It is however, even more important to Laurette Duday Macana. Personally, I’ve always hated the way some men here ignore their responsibilities, but I’ve never considered it any of my business. Now that my sister has made it her business, it’s also mine.”

Well, that was that. Bill knew there was nothing more to say, even if he was uneasy about Tel making those phonecalls.

“Thank you, Tel, ” he said, rising, “I truly appreciate your help.” Tel picked up the remaining glass of tonic and startled Bill by standing without help, his back straight, his stance firm.

“You will accomplish great things,” Tel said. Then, plainly noting Bill’s surprise, he held up his draught. “Now you see why I drink this, terrible as it is.” He offered a smile that did not touch his eyes.

“My God, Bill. The things a man will swallow for just a few more weeks of life.”