Doris Shipley Quotes in The Stone Angel
It’s better to know, but disappointing, too. I wonder now if I really want to fling this door wide. I do and don’t. Perhaps the thing inside will prove more terrible even than one’s imaginings.
Meantime, Doris feels it behooves her to bolster Marvin.
“It’s just as Marv says—the doctor says you’d be much better off—”
“Oh, stow it,” Marvin says, all of a sudden. “If you don’t want to go there, Mother, you don’t need to.”
“Well, I like that!” Doris is outraged. “And who’ll do the laundry, I’d like to know? You, I suppose?”
“I don’t know what in hell I’m supposed to do,” Marvin says. “I’m caught between two fires.”
What could I possibly tell her, I wonder, that could do her any good? She knows a lot more than I did when I married. Or maybe she doesn’t, really, but who’s to tell her? I haven’t a word to send her, my granddaughter. Instead, I tug at my right hand, pull and shake, and finally wrench off the ring.
“Send her this, Doris, will you? It was my mother’s sapphire. I’d like Tina to have it.”
Doris gasps. “Are you—are you sure you really want to, Mother?”
Something in her eyes saddens me, makes me want to turn away.
“Of course I’m sure. What use is it to me? I should’ve given it to you, I suppose, years ago. I could never bear to part with it. Stupid. Too bad you never had it. I don’t want it now. Send it to Tina.”
“Mother—” Marvin has a very loud voice sometimes. “Are you sure?”
Speechlessly I nod. Why all this fuss? In another moment I’ll take the wretched thing back, to shut them up. Doris pops it in her purse, as if she’s been thinking the same thing.
Doris returns. She fusses over me, fixes my pillows, rearranges my flowers, does my hair. How I wish she wouldn’t fuss so. She jangles my nerves with her incessant fussing. Mr. Troy has left and is waiting outside in the hall.
“Did you have a nice chat?” she says wistfully. If only she’d stop prodding at me about it. “We didn’t have a single solitary thing to say to one another,” I reply. She bites her lip and looks away. I’m ashamed.
But I won’t take back the words. What business is it of hers, anyway?
Oh, I am unchangeable, unregenerate. I go on speaking in the same way, always, and the same touchiness rises within me at the slightest thing.
“Doris—I didn’t speak the truth. He sang for me, and it did me good.”