Bitter Sweet (14 page)
“Aw, now we’re getting sappy.’
‘No, I mean it, Brookie. I wouldn”t be here in Door if you hadn’t called everyone and started the round of telephoning.
First Tani, then Fish and Lisa, and even Eric.’
‘So he did call you!’
‘Yes. I was so surprised.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he’d found out from you the real reason I’d called him. He was worried I might be suicidal, but I assured him I wasn’t. ‘
‘And?’
‘And... the usual. We talked about his business, how the fishing had been, and about my teaching, and how long we’d both been married, and how many kids we had or didn’t have, and he told me he’s very happily married.’
‘Wait’ll you see his wife. She’s a knockout. Model material.’
“I doubt that I will, or Eric either.’
‘Yeah, maybe not when you’re here for such a short time.’
‘Why do you suppose they didn’t have a family? It seems odd because when I went with Eric he always said he wouldn’t mind having a half-dozen.’
‘Who knows?’
‘Well, it’s none of my business anyway.’ Maggie yawned and stretched. Her doing so seemed to trigger a yawn in Brookie. Dropping her feet to the floor, Maggie said, ‘If there was ever a signal for a guest to go home...’
Checking her watch, she exclaimed, ‘Oh, my gosh, it’s nearly
!’
Brookie walked Maggie to her car. The night was warm and filled with scent from the petunia beds and the hone corral. Overhead the stars were showy on a blue-black firmament.
‘it’s funny about hometowns,’ Maggie mused.
‘They call you back, huh?’
‘Mmm... they really do. Especially when friends are there. And tomorrow it’ll be all of us.’
They hugged.
“Thank you for being here when I needed you. And for caring.’
For once Glenda made no humorous comment. “It’s good to have you back. I wish you’d stay forever.’
Forever. Maggie thought about it on her way home through the cool August night, its scent of cut grain and ripening apples reminding that autumn stood poised.
Nowhere was autumn more magnificent than in Door County, and it had been over two decades since she’d been here to witness the change of leaves. She’d love to experience a
At home, Vera had managed to leave one last order.
Propped against Maggie’s dresser lamp was a note: Turn out the nightlight in the bathroom.
The following day at
four mature adults descended upon Brookie’s house, reducing themselves to a quintet of giggly, giddy throwbacks.
.They hugged. They bounced. They cried. They kissed.
They all talked at once. They called one another by their long-unused teenage nicknames. They dropped profanities with surprising ease after years of trimming these unladylike expletives from their speech. They admired Lisa (still the prettiest), commiserated with Maggie (the widowed), teased Brookie (the most prolific) and Carolyn (already a grandmother) and Tani (the greyest).
They compared family pictures, children’s dispositions, and obstetric memories: wedding rings, husbands and jobs; travels, house styles and health setbacks; ate chicken salad and drank wine and grew giddier; caught up on extended family history - mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers; gossiped about former classmates; relived teenage memories. They got out Brookie’s yearbook and laughed at themselves in unflattering hairdos and heavy-lidded makeup; criticized the teachers they had disdained and praised those they had liked back in 1965; tried to sing the school song but couldn’t remember the words (except for Brookie who stiff attended games). In the end they settled for a rendition of ‘Three White Doves Went Seaward Hying’ sung by Lisa, Brookie and Maggie in dubious three-part harmony.
They played scratchy Beatles records and danced the watusi. They walked through Brookie’s meadow five abreast, arms linked, singing raunchy songs they would have punished their own children for singing, songs the boys had taught them clear back in high school.
At suppertime they went to town and ate at The Cookery where they were waited on by Brookie’s son, Todd, who received the largest tip of his career. They walked along
‘Why haven’t we done this before?’ one of them said.
‘We should make a pact to get together every year this Way.’
‘We should.’
‘Why are you all sounding so sad all of a sudden?’ Lisa asked.
‘Because it is sad, saying good-bye. It’s been such a fun day.’
“But it’s not good-bye. You’re all coming to
Gary
’s wedding, aren’t you?’
‘We’re not invited.’
“Of course you are! Oh, I almost forgot!’ Lisa zipped open her handbag. ‘Gary and Deb sent this for all of you.’ She produced a pale grey invitation with all their names on the envelope, which she passed around.
‘Gone and I will be there,’ Brookie confirmed, glancing around at the circle of faces. ‘Small town.., everybody goes ‘
‘And Maggie’s not going home until Sunday,’ Lisa reasoned, ‘and you two live close enough to drive down. Honest, Gary and Deb want you all to come. He made it a point to remind me. The reception’s going to be out at Bailey’s Harbor Yacht Club.’
They glanced at one another and shrugged, wanting to say yes.
I’ll come,’ Tani agreed. ‘I love the food at the yacht club.’
‘So will I,’ Fish seconded. ‘How about you, Maggie?’
‘Well, of course I’ll come if all the rest of you are going to be there.’
‘Great!’
They rose from the rocks, brushed off their clothing and ambled towards the street.
‘What about tomorrow, Maggie?’ Brookie inquired.
‘Let’s do something. Swim? Shop? Walk out to
‘I feel guilty, taking you away from your family again.’
‘Guilty!’ Brookie spouted. ‘When you’ve had as many as I have, you learn to snatch every opportunity to get away by yourself. Gene and I do plenty for our kids, they can do this for me, give me a day to myself now and then.’
The plan was cemented and they set a time before wishing each other goodnight.
The following morning Maggie sat in the kitchen drinking tea, attempting to carry on a conversation with her mother without losing her temper.
‘Brookie has a wonderful family, and I love her home.’
‘It’s a shame the way she let herself go to fat though,’ remarked Vera. ‘And as for family, I’d say she could stand a little less of it. Why, she must have been thirty-eight when she had the last one.’
Maggie bit back her exasperation and defended her friend. ‘They get along so well, though. The older ones look after the younger ones and they’ve been trained to pick up after themselves. They’re a wonderful family.’
‘Nevertheless, when a woman’s near forty she should be more careful. Why, she could have had a retarded child!’
‘Even after forty, pregnancies aren’t nearly as rare as they used to be, Mother, and Brookie said she wanted every one of her babies. Her last one was no mistake.’
Vera’s lips pruned and she raised one eyebrow.
‘So what about Carolyn?’ she asked.
‘Carolyn seems happy being a farmer’s wife. She and her husband are going to raise ginseng.’
‘Ginseng! Who in the world eats ginseng?’
Once, again, Maggie had to fight down a sharp retort. Vera grew more opinionated the older she got. Whatever the subject, unless Vera used it, or owned it or approved it, the rest of the world was screwed up to do so. By the time Vera asked about Lisa, Maggie wanted to shout, Why do you even ask, Mother, when you don’t care? Instead, she answered, ‘Lisa’s just as beautiful as ever, maybe more so. Her husband is a pilot so they’ve travelled all over the world. And remember Tani’s bright-red hair? It’s the prettiest peach colour you’ve ever seen. Like a silver maple leaf in the fall.’
‘I heard her husband started up a machine shop of his own and lost it a few years back. Did she say anything about it?’
Just shut up and get out of here before you blow, Maggie thought.
‘No, Mother, she didn’t.’
‘And I’ll bet not a one of them has the money that you’ve got.’
How did you get this way, Mother? Is there no generosity, in your spirit at all? Maggie rose to set her cup in the sink. ‘I’m going to do some things with Brookie today, so don’t plan lunch for me.’
‘With Brookie... but you haven’t spent more than a two-hour stretch at home since you’ve been here!’
For once Maggie refused to apologize. ‘We’re going to do some shopping and take a picnic out to
‘What in the world do you want to go out there for?
You’ve been there a hundred times.’
‘It’s nostalgic.’
‘It’s useless. Why, that old lighthouse is going to fall right over one of these days and when it does the county will have to pay for -‘
Maggie walked out in the middle of Vera’s diatribe.
Maggie drove. She picked up Brookie and together they went to the Fish Creek General Store where
Roy
made them towering sandwiches of turkey and cheese and smilingly said, ‘Have fun!’
They spent the morning poking through antique shops out on Highway 57- restored log cabins whose charm came alive behind white shutters and hollyhock borders. One was a great red barn, its doors thrown open to immense splashes of sun which fell across painted pine floors. Its rafters were hung with dusters of herbs, and dried flowers, the loft filled with hand-tied quilts and candles with uncut wicks. They examined pitchers and bowls, tin toys, antique lace, sleds with wooden runners, crocks and rockers and urns and armoires.
Brookie found a charming blue basket filled with baby’s breath and dried cornflowers with an immense pink bow on its handle.
‘Oh, I love this.’ She suspended it on one finger.
‘Buy it,’ Maggie suggested.
‘Can’t afford it.’
‘I can.’ Maggie took it from Brookie.
Brookie retrieved it and set it back on a pierced tin pic safe. ‘Oh, no, you don’t.
Maggie snatched the basket again. ‘Oh, yes, I do!’
‘Oh, no, you don’t!’
‘Brookie,’ Maggie scolded while they held the basket between them. ‘I have so much money and nobody to spend it on. Please... let me.’
Their eyes met in a friendly face-off while above their heads a wind chime rang softly.
‘All right. Thanks.’
An hour later when they had walked across the rocky shoal to Cana Island, had visited the lighthouse, explored the shore, swam, and eaten their picnic looking out at Lake Michigan, Maggie lay on her back on a blanket, her eyes shielded by sunglasses.
‘Hey, Brookie?’ Maggie said.
‘Hm?’
‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Sure.’
Maggie pulled her sunglasses half off and peered at a cloud through them, her elbows hanging in the air. ‘It’s true, you know, what I said back at the antique store. I’m filthy rich and I don’t even care.’
‘I wouldn’t mind trying it for a while.’
‘It’s the reason, Brookie.’ She slammed the glasses firmly on her face. ‘They gave me over a million dollars for Phillip’s life, but I’d give every penny of it if I could have him back again. It’s an odd feeling...’ Maggie rolled to her side facing Brookie and propped her jaw on a hand.
‘From the moment that FCC ruling came in - pilot error, the ground crew left a flap open on the plane- I knew I’d never have to worry about money again. You wouldn’t believe what settlements like this cover.’ She counted them on her fingers. ‘Grief of the children, their support and college education, the pain and suffering of the survivors, even the suffering of the victim while the plane was falling out of the sky. I get paid for that, Brookie... me!’ She touched her chest in exasperation. ‘Can you imagine what it feels like to take money for Phillip’s suffering?’
Brookie inquired, ‘Would you rather have taken nothing?’
Maggie’s mouth drooped as she stared thoughtfully at Brookie. She flopped to her back with an arm over her forehead.
“I don’t know; No, It’s stupid to say I would. But, don’t you understand? Everything is paid for - the house in
Seattle
, Katy’s schooling, new cars for both of us. And I’m tired of teaching tenth-graders how to roll out pie crust when they’ll probably buy pre-made crusts anyway. And I’m tired of noisy preschoolers, and of teaching child development when statistics show that a third of the couples who marry these days decide against having children, and most of the rest of them will probably end up in divorce court. I have all this money and nobody to spend it with, and I’m not ready to go out on dates yet, and even if I did, any man who’d ask me out would become suspect because
