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; "She called from someplace between Boston and New York," I replied.

"And how long does she intend to carry on like this?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Carry on?"

"Pretending she's doing something with her wretched life," she explained.

I felt the heat rise into my neck and face. "She has auditions, meetings, appointments," I said. "She's trying to become--"

"A what? A model, an actress?" she interrupted with a small, thin laugh. Then she looked at Grandpa Samuel. "An actress she's always been," she said. He looked away and she turned back to me.

"Your father left you and your mother no money after all these years of so-called honest labor?"

"We had something, but expenses were high for us and Mommy needed things and--"

"Wasteful. Never changed a bit," she muttered. "What did she look like?" she asked Aunt Sara.

"Oh, she's still very pretty, Olivia. Maybe she can be a model."

"Ridiculous. With her posture? Cary," she snapped, deciding to move on to someone else at the table, "how is your schoolwork now?"

"Not much better than it was, Grandma, I'm afraid," he said.

"Well, what do you plan on doing about it, Cary? You don't have all that much more time left, do you?" she asked.

"I'm thinking of being tutored," he said, shifting his gaze to me. I saw the small smile on his lips and smiled, too. Grandma Olivia caught the look between us and turned to me again.

"You are a good student, I understand?"

"Yes, Grandma. I've always been on the honor roll."

"Hmph," she said and shook her head. "Your mother didn't even graduate from high school, you know." I looked up quickly.

"Yes, she did," I said.

Aunt Sara made a tiny gasp and brought her napkin to her lips. She shook her head slightly at me. Was I supposed to just sit by and let Grandma Olivia say untruths?

"She told you that, did she?"

"Yes," I said.

She smiled that cold smile again, twisting her thin lips until they looked as if they would snap. "That girl never could distinguish between reality and illusion. No wonder she's gallivanting around the country trying to be an actress or a model," Grandma Olivia continued.

How do you know so much about my mother? I wanted to ask. You who disowned my father after he married her. But I lowered my eyes and nibbled on my food instead. Then I gazed at May, who sat eating and staring ahead with a soft smile on her face. I wondered if either Grandma Olivia or Grandpa Samuel knew how to communicate with her. All I had seen so far were smiles and nods from Grandpa Samuel. Grandma Olivia barely acknowledged her, from what I had seen.

We ate in silence, with everyone but Grandma Olivia keeping his eyes on the food before him. Finally, Grandpa Samuel looked up.

"The word I been getting," Grandpa Samuel said to Uncle Jacob, "is there'll be a good tourist season this year with the price of travel overseas going up and all."

Uncle Jacob nodded. "Aye. I heard that the hotels were looking good. There'll be lots of garbage to clean off the beach come this fall," he added. I knew where Cary got his attitude about the outsiders.

"How are the cranberries coming along?" Grandpa Samuel asked.

"They look good. We're anticipating a decent crop."

"Does she expect to leave you here over the summer?" Grandma Olivia suddenly asked me.