Margaret from Maine (9781101602690) (9 page)

“He's right here. Gordon? It's your mommy.”

Margaret listened to the sounds of the house and knew each one. She heard Gordon's quick steps scurrying. It was late morning and he would be hungry again. She felt a momentary pang at the sound of his little steps. But then he came onto the phone, all breath and hurry, and she asked him if he had seen the signing.

“President Obama is tall,” he said.

“Yes, he is, sweetheart. You should be very proud of your daddy.”

“I am.”

“President Obama told me that he was grateful for the sacrifice your daddy made. Do you understand what ‘sacrifice' means?”

“Medal of Honor,” Gordon said, falling back on the biggest concept he knew, Margaret understood. It was a phrase he used imperfectly to cover himself when adults pinned him down.

“This is a little different, but it's kind of that. All those people you saw today, they are trying to help your dad and other men and women like him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said, although he sounded a little distracted.

“Okay, we can talk about it when I get home. Are you having a good time with Grandpa Ben?”

“Yes.”

“Are you helping with the cows? Doing your chores?”

“Yes.”

Margaret understood she was now talking mostly for her own sake. Whatever interest he had had earlier had drifted away. She wondered what he was playing. She wondered if Grandpa Ben had let him watch television earlier than the house rule. She decided not to bring it up. She rubbed her forehead. She turned her foot over to see the back of her left heel. It was red and raw, probably ready to blister.

“Okay, buddy, I love you to the moon. Can I talk to Grandpa Ben again?”

“'Bye, Mommy,” he said.

She heard the phone clatter down. Then Ben picked it up.

“He's in a whirl,” she said.

“That kind of day around here. Noel Grummond came over from the county and wanted to talk about using biosolids out on the two north apple meadows. We walked it and Gordon came along. I thought he was tired out, but I guess I thought wrong.”

“What did Grummond say?”

“Oh, a lot of state talk. They're looking for sites where they can spread the biosolids and get them out of the landfills. Has to be at least twenty acres and we have about that up there. Some activists are worried about heavy metals, mercury, mostly, and selenium, but I don't know. We don't graze the livestock up there. It's all apples.”

“Do they pay something?”

“Yes. Not much, but they do. We more or less leave the field empty for one summer. There will be some smell. But it's supposed to be safe and it's good for the soil if we ever want to use it.”

“Well, Noel's a trustworthy sort.”

“I've always thought so.”

“Are you eating enough?”

“Now, Margaret, I've been able to feed myself quite a long time. Gordon's doing fine, so there's nothing for you to worry about. Just take a little break down there. Are they treating you okay?”

“Everything's fine here.”

“Well, if you see that fellow Charlie, tell him Gordon slept with the animal he gave him. What was it called? Looks a little like a squirrel or rabbit.”

“A meerkat.”

“That's right. It's quite a hit right now. He has it attacking his soldiers. Looks like Godzilla marching through Tokyo.”

“Glad he's enjoying it.”

She felt a lump tighten in her throat, and she thought of her father-in-law's simple goodness. It was the goodness he had given to Thomas, the same goodness she hoped he would pass along to Gordon.

“I miss Thomas,” she said. “I missed him today at the ceremony.”

“I did, too.”

“He's helping people, Ben. Even as he is, people are better for him.”

“I understand.”

“I hope you're proud of him,” she said.

“And of you, Margaret.”

And that was all he said.

Chapter Ten

C
harlie lifted the cone of blue cotton candy away from the concessionaire and passed it to Margaret.

“Oh, good grief, I can't believe I'm eating more,” she said as she bit a little off the top. “Thank you.”

“You only have so many zoo days in your life,” Charlie said. He paid the concessionaire and smiled. “It's a beautiful spring day and we're at the zoo. It's better than the French pâté last night, isn't it?”

“Much better. Here, take a bite.”

She held it out to him. He broke off a hunk and tasted it.

“Are you sure this is covered?” Margaret asked. “There's no reason for you to pay. . . .”

Charlie put his hand briefly on her back to move her away from the concession stand.

“Ready to find the lions?” he asked. “We're fine, Margaret. Everything is good.”

Margaret nodded, then glanced down at the park map. Charlie liked Margaret's approach to the zoo. She was systematic without being dictatorial, but it was clear she wanted to make sure they saw everything. It amused him to watch her. She was a true Yankee who insisted on value for payment, her thoroughness a personality trait she hardly recognized in herself. It charmed him to see it, and it charmed him, also, to see her relax after a difficult morning. She wore flip-flops below a khaki skirt and carried a blue sweater knotted around her purse strap.

It took fifteen minutes to find the lion enclosure, and Charlie helped himself to three more bites of cotton candy as they walked. He couldn't remember a better afternoon. The temperature stood at seventy and the usual Washington humidity had drifted away. He felt relaxed and happy. He wanted to put his arm around Margaret, but he had difficulty reading her after the morning's ceremony. Had a trace of formality entered their exchanges? Charlie couldn't be certain. It might simply have been the strain of the morning, of dealing with the security checkpoints and meeting the bill sponsors. The press, naturally, snapped a thousand photos of President Obama, and for someone unaccustomed to so much activity it might have felt overwhelming. Perhaps, too, Charlie thought, the morning signing ceremony had highlighted her husband's condition, called him clearly to mind, and the events of the night before stood in contrast. Maybe she regretted having an affair with him, and so he watched her for signs, trying to read her, taking pains not to presume too much familiarity. It was difficult because he felt tremendously attracted to her, both physically and mentally, and he had to guard against his feelings propelling him forward too fast.

“Aren't they amazing?” Margaret said when they finally reached the lion enclosure. A small family group lay in the sun, clearly enjoying the fine afternoon. The male lion had a particularly impressive mane. “Gordon would love to see this. I'm kicking myself right now that I didn't bring him.”

“Did you consider bringing him?”

“He's so young, I didn't know if it made much sense. He doesn't fully understand his father's condition. I think he believes Thomas will wake up someday and walk back through the door. Anyway, he loves animals. He'd love this.”

They watched the lions for a minute or two and then Margaret asked if he wanted any more cotton candy. When he said no, she walked to a trash can and tossed it out. She used a napkin to wipe off her hands.

“Can we sit for a minute?” Margaret asked as she sat on a bench in the shade. “I'm not used to all this walking. And the heat! I'm afraid I'm a Maine girl through and through.”

“It's pretty perfect weather. For Washington, this is about as good as it gets.”

“It's a wonderful, perfect day.”

“And a nice zoo. It's the national zoo.”

“I love this zoo,” she said, “but I meant you. You've been wonderful, Charlie. In every way.”

“Are we okay, Margaret? Do you regret anything about last night?”

She leaned across the bench and kissed him. It was a light, friendly kiss, with just a touch more beneath it.

“I've wanted to do that all day,” she said when she pulled back. “I didn't want you to think . . . I don't know . . . that last night was one thing and today is another. I mean, it is another thing today, but I remember last night. I'll always remember it.”

“Me, too. I know what you mean. I wanted to kiss you all day, too.”

“I had such a funny day, Charlie. Meeting the president, and all those political operatives. Is that what they're called? Well, anyway, the bill sponsors. I liked the woman from Illinois. What was her name again?”

“Gilden.”

“Yes, I liked her. She was very kind. And I liked the president. He took time with people. That's what I noticed. But I couldn't help thinking of Thomas. Naturally, I suppose. I thought about him and it felt like he was right there for a moment. He was a good man, Charlie. You would have liked him. This bill is necessary, of course, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, but the fact of him, of Thomas's life, well, nothing can help that.”

Charlie took her hand.

“And you're mixed up in my head, too. I have such strong feelings about you. It's silly, I know, and maybe it's just that I haven't been with anyone in so long . . . maybe I'm overreacting and if I am, if I'm being silly, you've been very understanding about it. I appreciate that. I talked to Blake this morning and she said I should simply enjoy my time with you and not question it and that's what I'm trying to do. So I wanted you to know that I don't have anything . . . I'm being inarticulate now, but I don't hold you to anything, if you know what I mean. I just like you, Charlie. I haven't any expectations at all. Not one. So that's my little speech and I feel better for making it.”

“I'm so relieved. I thought you had decided it had all been a mistake. It wasn't a mistake for me.”

“Oh, I'm sorry you had to wonder about that,” she said and kissed the back of his hand. “I should have made myself clearer, but everything was jumbled up this morning. I'm sorry, Charlie. No, if anything I like you too much. That's a bigger worry for me than if I didn't really like you. You know what I mean. I don't do
this
. I haven't been with a man in over six years. I'm more surprised by it than anyone else could be. The worst part is, it feels incredibly natural. I feel as though I've known you for years. It's strange. Do you feel that, too?”

He nodded.

“Am I talking too much?” she asked.

“No,” he said and kissed her. He kissed her fully on the lips and pulled her body closer.

Margaret tasted of candy. He smiled and told her and then felt her lips smile back at him. Then he kissed her deeper and far away he smelled the lions, the wild scent of them caught on the wind and scattered on a spring day as fine as any he could remember.

* * *

“He took me to the zoo, Blake. He is the sweetest man I've ever met.”

Margaret studied herself in the bathroom mirror of her hotel room, the phone pressed to her right ear. She looked at her outfit, the one she had worn on Friday, and wished that she had packed something else. But the dress still looked good and she turned to look at it from behind. Not bad, really, she thought.

“And tonight?” Blake asked.

“We're going to a little Italian restaurant he knows.”

“Wow, this is pretty intense.”

“I want to be with him as much as I can.”

“Careful, sweetie.”

“I know. I know I should be. I feel like I'm fifteen years old again. Do you think it's terrible? Tell the truth.”

“That you feel like you're fifteen? Or that you're spending so much time with him?”

“Oh, I don't know.”

“Look, Donny isn't even home. He missed Phillip's game and now he's out having beers with his buddies. So right now I'm actually jealous of you. I'd enjoy it if I were you.”

“Boy, he gets to me, though. Charlie, I mean. I'm going to be with him and I don't care what it all means in the great scheme of things. For once, I'm going to let go of the steering wheel a little.”

“That's a good thing, isn't it?”

Margaret saw herself nod in the mirror before she answered. It was a good thing.

“I went to church this morning.”

“You did not! Margaret . . .”

“I just needed to try to sort things out. I didn't go to confession or anything. I'm not that crazy.”

“There's nothing for you to feel guilty about. Don't let those thoughts in your mind.”

“They come on their own. But okay, switching subjects. I like this outfit,” Margaret said. “But I wish I had something to put over it. I want to jazz it up a little.”

“What are you wearing?”

“That dress I wore to the airport. In my defense, I wasn't expecting anything like this. The shoes are wrong. I wore flip-flops all afternoon. My feet are killing me from heels.”

“He likes you no matter what. How did he look in his uniform?”

“Unbelievably handsome. What is it about guys in uniforms?”

“Not all guys. I hate that camo stuff they wear with the big boots and the ugly desert colors. Ick.”

“They took plenty of pictures, so I can show you when I get back.”

“I'm picking you up at ten tomorrow night? That's still the plan, right?”

“I can get a ride, Blake. Or take a cab.”

“It's going to be late and you're going to be tired and I'm happy to do it. Have you called Ben?”

“I did after the ceremony. They watched it on television. And he told me you said it's already on YouTube. He's a sweet man, but he doesn't get very excited about things. I talked to Gordon, too, but I'm not sure how much he understands.”

“Probably better in the long run.”

“I'm sorry you have to be up so late to get me.”

“Tomorrow night? Ten isn't so late, except for us fossils. And you can tell me everything. I want every detail.”

“Connections to Bangor are just ridiculous.”

“It's okay. Don't worry about it. Donny's going to watch Phillip and that's that.”

Margaret left the mirror and walked into the bedroom. Beyond the sitting area the window had turned gray and quiet with evening.

“Blake?” Margaret whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed, tears coming into her eyes.

“What, sweetie? Are you okay? What is it?”

“It's all just . . . ,” Margaret said, then realized she couldn't fit her mind around it. “I don't know, I feel unfair to Thomas, I mean, I'm here in Washington for Thomas and I know he doesn't know a thing about it. . . . He's in a vegetative state, for goodness' sakes, and that's the fact, that's what I've learned to accept, but I have such strong feelings for Charlie. It's been years and years and years since I felt anything like this. It scares me. And I wonder if I would feel something like this no matter what, you know, if any man showed interest in this way. . . . And it's been romantic, the ball and zoo, and his kindness with Gordon and the meerkat. . . . I feel like I'm cheating on Thomas, and in a technical way I am, but even he wouldn't begrudge me a little happiness, just a little bit. When I'm with Charlie I feel lighthearted and it's been so long since I felt that. Lighthearted. It's a funny expression, but it describes it perfectly. I have hope when I'm with him. So I'm all bundled up inside. When we kiss, Blake, I can't believe how it feels to kiss him. Tell me I'm not being a bad person. A bad wife.”

Margaret felt a deep, choking sob force its way up through her throat. She cried and sat on the edge of the bed, and she tried to listen to Blake. Dear Blake, who said everything a friend would say, who reassured her, who promised her that she, Margaret, was a good person, that these were special circumstances, that life was not all one thing or another. With part of her mind she listened, and the other part, the deep, quiet center of her consciousness, suddenly remembered the farm, the back porch, the purple lilacs thrusting their heads up into the spring air. She pictured the fire pond and the phoebe fluttering on its nest, the sun finding the old oak outside her bedroom. She lifted that memory like a string and followed it to Blake's voice, and she leaned back and put her head on the bed and listened to her friend's good advice, her heart paused as if cracked open.