Geoducks Are for Lovers (30 page)

“Hello?” Maggie asks, glancing at Gil. “Can they not see us? Are we invisible?”

Gil walks over and stands a hair’s distance behind Ben. 

Ben jumps. “What was that for?”

“Ben can see us.” 

“He might have super powers,” Maggie stage whispers.

“We can all see you, Magpie. We’re giving you some space. So are you two all settled?” Quinn peers over the paper.

“When’s the wedding?” Selah asks, smirking.

Maggie blanches at the thought of marriage and a wedding.

“Kidding. Sheesh. You should see your face right now. You know I don’t think everyone should get married.” Selah looks at Ryan. “The gays can get married. I do support marriage equality. You all might do a better job than the straight breeders. Go for it.”

“Thanks for your blessing, Selah.” Ryan pats her shoulder. “I hate to bring up the end to this fine weekend, but what time do we need to catch the ferry to get back to civilization?”

“What time is your flight? Given today’s a summer Sunday, the ferry line might be bad. We should have left a car on the other side last night,” Maggie says.

“Quinn booked us an early flight tomorrow and a hotel downtown. We have no agenda as long as we get to SeaTac by morning.”

“I figured Selah and Gil could give us a ride into town since they’ll be driving through Seattle on their way south,” Quinn says.

“Of course,” Selah agrees. “Then we can spend the long wait in the ferry line grilling Gil about his weekend.” She gives Gil a wicked grin.

“Great. Really looking forward to it.” Gil rubs the back of his neck. The gesture almost makes Maggie feel sorry for him, but she is secretly happy it’s him and not her.

“What about you and Jo?” Maggie asks Ben.

“We’re the same. We’re on the red eye tonight out of Vancouver. We’ll avoid the ferry line and drive up the island. At least we can sleep in first class.”

Jo joins them outside. “Speak for yourself. I can never sleep on planes. Well, not true sleep.” 

“Take a sleep aid. You’ll be fine. I have to go into the office tomorrow at some point to check on the chaos created during my absence.” Ben sighs.

Sitting on the arm of his chair, Jo wraps her arm around his shoulders. “It’ll be fine.”

“Everything okay at the office?” Gil asks. “You’ve been glued to your phone all weekend with the same sour expression on your face.”

Ben sighs, again. “Yeah. Sure. Probably.” After placing his phone on the table, he swipes his hands down his face. Jo squeezes his shoulder. “We might need to do a round of layoffs if the quarterly projections don’t hold. Finance isn’t what it was before ’08. Fucking derivatives.”

Gil and Maggie exchange looks that say this doesn’t sound good.

“‘We’ as in you’d be the one doing the layoffs or ‘we the powers that be’ slashing jobs, including yours?” Gil asks.

“Both. Who knows? That’s why working Saturdays is no big deal any more. Six day work weeks, twelve hour days are the norm, not the exception. Do more with less—the mantra of the post-recession world. It’s fucking stressful.” 

“It must be stressful you’re dropping f-bombs left and right,” Maggie comments.

“With one income, we’re screwed if things go tits up. Private school tuition for three, mortgage, lifestyle. Not that we’re overextended. We’re fine. Better than most.” Ben glances up at Jo. Her perfectly smooth forehead disguises all but the smallest furrow of worry.

“All of it can go away. We could always hide away on an island and live off the land, like Maggie,” Jo suggests. 

“Ouch.” Maggie cringes.

“That was rude. I’m sorry. This doesn’t feel like the real world. You live a life completely about you and your desires. It’s a good life. We fret about school tuition and building the right resume for our fourteen-year-old kids, so they can get into the right university, so their degree will mean something.”

Jo’s apology still stings Maggie. “I didn’t exactly choose to move out here. Someone had to take care of my mother. Being single and childless meant I would move home.”

“Hey now, no one is attacking you, Mags.” Ben looks at her. “We all have our struggles and choices. Ditching the shackles of success and the money chase sounds appealing when you are sitting on a beach.”

Bristling with the urge to defend herself, Maggie walks away and sits on a chaise next to Selah.

“We all make choices and live with those decisions. Even the choices out of our control lead us down the path,” Selah comments and reaches over the space between the chairs to squeeze Maggie’s hand.

“If anything, I envy your life, Maggie.” Jo walks over and sits on the foot of the lounge chair. “My life hasn’t been my own for over a decade. Rarely is a day about what I want to do or what I accomplish outside of the kids and not killing my husband.”

Half smiling, Maggie squeezes Jo’s arm. 

“Fuck. Life is shit, it’s tough, and not at all what we promised ourselves.” Selah pulls her friends into a group hug.

“Great. Now they are hugging it out.” Ben glances at the other men. “Does this mean we should hug?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Quinn says, holding up his hands. “Life isn’t all career and stuff.”

“Says the man who has made a career about stuff,” Gil says.

“Right, then.” Ryan appears decidedly uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation. “With your experience, whatever happens, you’ll land on your feet, Ben. I’m sure of it.”

“I love it when you sound so assured and fatherly.” Quinn glances at Ryan and smiles. 

“I have exactly the life I always wanted. The career I imagined when I was in high school, the woman I fell in love with in college, the two-point-five children… it’s all as I imagined it,” Ben says.

“Who of our kids is the half child?” Jo asks.

Looking at his wife, Ben says, “Theo” at the same time she does. Laughing, they both nod.

“We’ve been very lucky.” Jo smiles at Ben. 

“You two have always been a good team. Even in college, as soon as you started dating, you were a team,” Gil observes. “That’s why you work. There was no team in Judith.” He laughs at himself. “It made more sense in my head.”

“I don’t think I ever had things planned out. ‘Be creative’ was as far as I got. Marriage and kids weren’t even on my radar. Or gaydar, as it were,” Quinn says.

“Me neither,” Maggie agrees. “To no one’s surprise, I’m sure. You all have advanced degrees. I let my heart lead me. Good that it did. I’m just starting to put my career first again.” 

“You’ve had an interesting, adventure of a life. Don’t sell yourself short,” Jo tells her. “Conventional success isn’t the only measure of a good life.”

“I thought once you hit this age, life gets easier. You’ve established your career, the home, the spouse, the kids, and enjoy the comforts of a good income.” Ben turns his phone over and over on the table. “Now it seems it can all go away at any time. When you get your own shit figured out, you’re dealing with parents or kids, or both. Control is an illusion.” 

“Control
is
an illusion. Maybe our parents’ generation was better at the smoke and mirrors of being real adults,” Gil comments.

“The smoking probably helped, and the drinking at lunch.” Ryan chuckles. 

“I think my parents self-medicated with pot,” Selah adds. “I’m pretty sure Mom has a medical marijuana prescription now. Anyone in California can get one.”

“You sound a little jealous, Selah,” Jo says.

“Completely. We were the first Prozac generation. Now we’re the Xanax and Lexapro generation. Maybe pharmaceuticals aren’t the answer.”

“What was the question?” Quinn asks.

“The last time I felt totally in control of my life, and also the first time I felt like I was a real adult, was at twenty-seven.” Maggie muses. “I had a husband, a career, a NYC life. Recent grads were young and silly. Anyone over thirty was stuck. Forty was ancient. Little did I realize how fleeting the feeling would be. How fleeting that life would be.”

“Would you go back?” Selah asks. 

“Me?” Maggie confirms. Taking a minute to think about it, she shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I would. Would any of you?” She notices everyone shaking their heads. 

“No do overs, even if we could go back,” Gil says, catching Maggie’s eye.

“I’d tell myself to worry less and put money into an IRA before thirty,” Quinn says. “But change things, or hope for a do over? No. All of the noise and chaos in my twenties lead me here.” He winks at Ryan.

“Wow. Philosophical discussion and Quinn comes in with sound financial advice.” Ben turns his phone face down and pushes back from the table. “I wouldn’t change my life with Jo. Change any one thing and none of us would be sitting here together today. It all fits together.”

Gil and Quinn look at each other, and then at Ben. 

“Ben is wise. Like Yoda,” Quinn says, with a laugh.

“Wise like Yoda, Ben is,” Gil adds in his best accent.

Everyone chuckles.

“I’m going to need to get more cats if I plan to die a lonely cat woman,” Selah declares, mostly joking.

“You’ll be an eccentric. Like Beatrice Woods, the ceramicist. Or Georgia O’Keefe. I think they both took young lovers well into their old age,” Maggie suggests.

Selah tosses a look over shoulder toward John’s house. “Yes, there is something to be said for younger lovers. I’ll wear caftans and big chunky necklaces.”

“You’ve already started on the chunky necklaces.” Jo points at Selah’s chest.

“And the younger lovers.” Selah winks with pride. “Old age, here I come!”

“Didn’t Mrs. Roper wear caftans and big necklaces, too?” Quinn comments and receives a glare from Selah.

“Is it too early for a drink?” Ben gets up from his chair.

“What time is it? I have no sense of the time.” Maggie realizes she’s still in her smelly running clothes, but the events and freak out this morning are a distant memory.

“Time for a Bloody Mary. Or since you have clam juice, Bloody Caesars. That’s what time it is.” Ben steps through the door. “Who is joining me?”

“Tomato juice in the cupboard. Pickled asparagus in the fridge,” Maggie calls out to him.

“More clam juice. Joy.” Selah deadpans. “Add double the vodka in mine.”

“I need another shower,” Maggie mentions to no one in particular.

“Outdoor shower right over there,” Gil states out the obvious.

“What happened to friends?” Maggie asks, getting up to walk inside.

“Friends who have outdoor showers should use their outdoor showers.”

“Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you can see me in there. I’ll take a quick shower while the Bloody Caesars are being made.” She disappears inside to grab a towel and a change of clothes. 

Gil cheers her easy agreement, noting she put up little resistance. Maybe, just maybe, her shell hasn’t completely reformed. 

“Ahem,” Selah says, standing beside him. “I see your cocky smile, Mister.”

“Not cocky. Happy. Maybe a little optimistic.” 

“Optimism works. No do overs, but you two are finally where you’re meant to be.”

“Couldn’t agree more. Plus, I have a few of these as insurance.” He pulls out the wishing rock from his pocket to show her. Selah moves to grab it out of his hand, but he closes his fist and returns it to his shorts for safekeeping.

* * *

Brunch is but a memory as Maggie stares at the piles of luggage filling her hallway. Bags are packed and the ferry line is being checked again from her laptop. 

A lump forms in Maggie’s throat as she thinks about everyone’s departure. The cabin has been full of life and laughter this weekend. She’s been full of life and laughter, too, and returning to her beloved quiet seems less desirable. 

From the corner of her eye, she spots Jo struggling down the stairs with a tangle of linens and towels. “Here, you didn’t have to bring those downstairs,” she says, grabbing the mess from Jo. “You could’ve left the beds. I’ll deal with everything this week.”

“Oh, please. I can strip beds and gather used towels. It’s practically my job,” Jo says, handing off the massive pile to Maggie, and following her into the laundry room tucked off the kitchen.

Maggie holds back a snarky comment about a housekeeper and nanny doing the laundry. 

“I can see you not commenting on the housekeeper and babysitter. Yes, it’s rare I do all the laundry, but I can strip a bed. You wouldn’t be able to imagine how many towels and clothes teenagers and tweens can generate in a week.”

After stuffing the laundry on top of the washer, Maggie spontaneously hugs Jo.

“I know you, Jo. I know the girl you were and the woman you’ve become. Don’t ever think I don’t see you. Not mom, not wife, not Junior League member. Not Mrs. Benton Grant II. Not Josephine Asotin-Grant. Just you.” She pulls back, and sees Jo has tears in her eyes.

“What brought that on?” Jo swipes at her eyes.

“I felt you needed the reminder. So much of everything we talk about when we talk about you is really about the kids and Ben, and Ben’s job, and the kids’ stuff. Sometimes the real Jo gets lost in everything else.”

Jo gives her the once over. “Thanks. I think.”

“You’re welcome. The comments outside about me hiding out on the island and being selfish have me thinking. Yes, my life is all about me right now. Yours is the opposite. Right now. But it doesn’t always need to be that way. For either of us.”

Sighing, Jo hugs her again, then kisses her on the cheek. “Thanks for saying those words. I love my life. I do. I’m blessed in many ways and I feel terrible for ever wanting it all to go away sometimes. It would be nice to switch places for a day, or two, maybe a week. Or a month in the summer.” Jo wipes away the dampness around her eyes. “We all have our challenges and paths. I chose mine a long time ago. It’s what I know. It’s what I love.”

Maggie stares at her friend. “I believe you. Know I’m here if you ever want to vent or visit. Or do a
Freaky Friday
switcheroo. But rest assured, I have no intention of sleeping with your husband.”

“Good to know about Ben.” Jo giggles.

“What about me?” Ben stands in the door to the laundry room.

“Maggie is not going to sleep with you if she and I ever switch bodies,” Jo says with authority.