The Weekend: A Novel by Peter Cameron Page A

he pointed at the car.
    Robert said, “Is that her?”
    Lyle nodded and stood. He was aware of Robert standing beside him, of Marian stopping the car in front of them, and her jumping out from it. She looked so animated and joyful, and for a moment, in the delight of seeing her again after so long, Lyle forgot his fears. It is all going to be fine, he thought.
    “Oh, I knew you’d be waiting!” Marian exclaimed. “I’m sorry I’m late. Have you been waiting long?”
    “No,” Lyle managed to say. “Not long at all. Marian, this is Robert. Robert, Marian.”
    “Hello,” said Robert. They shook hands.
    “We’re so glad you’ve come this weekend,” said Marian. She turned to Lyle. “And Lyle,” she said. “You—” She hugged him hard, rubbed his back. “It’s wonderful to see you. You look great.”
    Lyle could see Robert standing behind Marian, watching them embrace. He was smiling in a way that Lyle didn’t understand, or care for, so he closed his eyes. Marian hugged him tighter, as if she had sensed he had closed his eyes, and he knew she had closed her eyes, too—it was a blind, tight hug—and then she pulled away.
    They all got in the car: Lyle in front beside Marian, Robert in back with their bags. “We’ve got to stop at the fish market and the liquor store and then it’s straight home,” Marian said. “I hope you don’t mind. Do you eat fish?” she asked Robert.
    “Yes,” said Robert.
    “Good,” said Marian. They were waiting for the stoplight. For a moment no one said anything. When they had pulled into the traffic, Marian said, “And how was the train ride?”
    “Fine,” said Lyle.
    “Was it crowded?”
    “Yes,” said Lyle.
    “I think it’s such a lovely ride,” said Marian. “It’s one of my favorites, up along the river. Had you taken it before?” she asked Robert.
    “No,” said Robert.
    “Have you ever been in this area?”
    Robert said he had not.
    “It’s nice,” said Marian. “Especially in the summer. It’s a bit nowheres, so there’s not a lot to do, but I don’t mind that. It’s easy enough to go down to the city if you want to do something. Although, now with Roland, that’s become a thing of the past.” She laughed.
    “How is Roland?” asked Lyle.
    “He’s fine. He’s home helping John with the garden. Roland is our son,” she said into the rearview mirror. “He’ll be one year old next month.”
    “Lyle told me,” said Robert.
    Marian pulled the car into the parking lot of a small shopping center and parked. “Listen,” she said, “I’m going to just dash into Elmer’s for some fish. Would you two mind going into Kroegstadt’s there and getting some beer? Do you drink beer?” she asked Robert.
    “Yes,” said Robert. “I like beer.”
    “Good,” said Marian. “Then get some kind you especially like. John said to get a case. Here’s twenty dollars. Is that enough for a case? I’ve no idea.”
    “We’ll pay for the beer,” said Lyle.
    “No, no, don’t be silly,” said Marian. “Here,” she said to Robert, holding the money toward him. “Take this, will you? I insist.”
    Robert didn’t know what to do. “Are you sure?” he asked.
    “Yes,” said Marian. “Please. I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”
     
     
    John was trying to lay out the croquet court despite interference from Roland, who crawled behind him, uprooting each wicket as soon as it had been inserted into the lawn. It was a game, John realized, a game Roland played seriously, only sometimes emitting a
small hiccuping burst of pleasure. They played it for about twenty minutes, until Roland grew tired. Then John whacked a yellow croquet ball around the lawn, while Roland lay down on the other balls, as if he were trying to hatch them.
    The croquet set had been a gift from Tony, who had been an excellent croquet player. He played a misleadingly casual game, swinging the mallet in one hand and holding a cocktail or a cigarette in the other, playing