Love, Brookie
,. -
,, monologue, Maggie found herself smiling wistfully. She didn’t remember putting green slime in Mr Pruitt’s thermos or whose name they’d written on the poster of the nude. And who was Morrie-I’ baby? So many lost memories.
She checked out Brookie’s class picture, Tani’s, Lisa’s, Fish’s, her own (wrinkling her nose in chagrin) - all of them so girlish and unsophisticated. But the one whose picture she’d really opened the book to see was Eric Severson.
And there he was. Extraordinarily good-looking at seventeen - tall, blond and Nordic. Though the yearbook was done in black and white, Maggie imagined colour - where there was none - the startling blue of his eyes, true as a field of
Eric Severson, my first lover.
She found his handwriting on the flyleaf at the end of the book.
Dear Maggie,
I never would have guessed at the beginning of this year how hard it’d be to write this to you. What a great year we had together. I remember that first night I asked if I could take you home, and when you said yes, I thought, Maggie Pearson with me, Wow!! And now look at us, graduating with a million memories. I’ll never forget that first dance when you told me not to chew gum in your ear, and the first time I kissed you on the snowmobile trail down below Old Bluff Road, and all the times when coach Gilbert would be talking to us guys during the time-outs and I’d sneak a look at you on the other side of the gym while you were cheering. I liked you for a long time before I got up enough nerve to ask you out, and now I only wish I’d asked you about three years sooner. I’m going to miss you to beat hell this l when I’m at
Lots of love,
Eric
Felicity and Aaron - the names they had picked for future children. Heavens, she’d forgotten. And the date the spring when they had agreed to talk about getting married. And how he’d always favoured her in pink, and his own special endearment, Maggie M’girl.
Remembering him, she was gripped by nostalgia. ing back on those giddy days through the perspective maturity she thought, Brookie is right. He’s happily married to a very beautiful wife, and we’re all grown up now: How could a call from a girl twenty-three years in past threaten either his marriage or my well-being? It’ll be a friendly hello, that’s all.
Following Dr Feldstein’s orders, Maggie picked up phone and dialled.
Chapter 2
The phone jarred Eric Severson out of a sound sleep. Beside him,
Nancy
numbled and rolled over as he reached for the nightstand and answered in the dark.
‘Hui -‘ He cleared his throat. ‘Hullo?’
‘Hello, is this Eric Severson?’
‘Who’s this?’ he asked ungraciously, peering at the red numbers on the digital clock.
‘It’s Margaret Stearn... ah, Pearson.’
‘Who?’
Nancy
thumped a hip into the mattress and gave the covers an irritated jerk. ‘Who in the world is calling at this hour of the night?’
‘It’s Maggie, Eric,’ the woman on the phone said. “Maggie Pearson?’
‘Mag -‘ He struggled to think who Maggie Pearson was. ‘Oh, I woke you, didn’t I? I’m really sorry. How thoughtless of me. But I’m in
Seattle
and it’s only
here. Listen, Eric, I’ll call some other time during the day when ‘
‘No, it’s all right. Who... Maggie? You mean Maggie Pearson from Gibraltar High? Class of’65?’ He recognized her laughter and settled onto his back, wider awake. ‘Well, I’ll be damned.’
Nancy
rolled over and asked, Who is it?’
Shielding the mouthpiece, he answered. ‘A girl I went to school with, Maggie Pearson.’
‘Oh, great,’
Nancy
grumbled and rolled away again. ‘There’s someone with you?’
Into the phone Eric said, ‘Yes, my wife.’
‘I really am sorry, Eric. It was an impetuous call, anyway.
Please apologize to your wife for my waking her and go back to sleep, both of you.’
‘Wait a minute!’ he ordered, sitting up, dropping his feet over the edge of the bed. ‘Maggie?”
‘Yes?’
I’ll change phones. Hang on a minute.’ He rose in the dark, flipped the covers over, leaned on them with both hands and kissed
Nancy
’s cheek. ‘Hang this up when I get downstairs, will you, honey? Sorry to disturb you.’ ‘What does she want?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, leaving the room. I’ll tell you in the morning.’
The only other phones were downstairs. He moved familiarly along the dark hall and down the steps, across the living-room carpet and onto the cool, vinyl floor of the kitchen where he switched on the fluorescent light above the sink. In its sudden glare he squinted and reached for the phone on the counter.
‘Hello?’
‘Yes,’ Maggie replied
‘There, we can talk now. I’m downstairs. Well, Maggie, what a surprise to hear from you.’
‘I really am sorry, Eric. It was stupid of me not to consider the time difference. You see, I just finished talking to Brookie - she’s the one who gave me your number and suggested I call you. We had such a great talk, by the time I hung up I never gave a second thought to the time.’ ‘Stop apologizing.’
‘But what will your wife think?’
‘She’s probably already gone back to sleep.’ Eric heard the click as
Nancy
hung up the bedside phone. Dressed only in Jockey shorts, he settled gingerly on a kitchen chair, taking the phone with him. ‘She travels a lot, so she’s used to sleeping in hotels and on planes, wherever she needs to. When she’s here in her own bed, sleeping’s no problem for her, believe me.’
‘Brookie told me you were married, and to a very beautiful wife.’
‘Yes, she is, thanks. Her name is
Nancy
.’
‘She’s not from
‘No, she’s from
Estherville
,
Seattle
and ? His inflection left an open blank.
‘And I was married for eighteen years. He died a year ago.’
I’m sorry, Maggie . . . I read a mention of it in Advocate.’ After a pause, he inquired, ‘How about kids?’ ‘One. A daughter, Katy, seventeen.
You?’ ‘No, unfortunately, none.’
His reply left a gap. Groping for something to fill it in, she put in, ‘Brookie says you’re running your dad’s charte boat.’
‘Yup. Out of Gills Rock with my brother Mike. You remember Mike, don’t you? He was two years ahead of us?
‘Of course I remember Mike. We used his car to go to the prom.’
‘That’s right, I’d forgotten. We’ve got two boats now and Ma runs the radio for us and does all the shore work and the bookings and sells the licenses.’
‘Your mother- I smile when I think of her. How is she?
‘Unstoppable. Looks the same as ever - like a eros between Burgess Meredith and a Persian lamb coat.’
Maggie laughed. The sound, coming across the wire seemed to roll time backwards. ‘Ma never changes. She’ still full of sass,’ Eric added, settling more comfortably the chair.
‘Your mother was such a spunky lady. I liked her s much. And your dad.., he’s gone now, I think my mother wrote. ‘
‘Yes, six years ago.”
‘You were always so close to him. I’m sure you must miss him.’
‘We all do.’ It was true. Even after six years, Eric still felt the loss. The values he had learned had been taught to him by the old man. He’d come by his occupation wrapped in the old man’s arms, with his powerful hands covering Eric’s own on the rod and reel, and his voice in Eric’s ear, ordering, ‘Never jerk back on the line, son! Keep ‘er steady!’ More than half of Eric’s charter customers were old-time repeaters who’d been fishing on the Mary Deare since the early days of Severson Charters. Eric’s voice held gruff affection as he added, ‘Ah, well.., he had a hell of a good life, drove the boat till the end and died right here at home, holding Ma’s hand with all four of us kids around the bed.’
‘That’s right- I forgot about your other brother and sister - where are they?’
‘Ruth lives in
Duluth
and Larry’s in
Milwaukee
. I see your folks around every now and then, your dad mostly when I go into the store. He always wants a report on how the fish are biting.’
‘I’m sure he envies you, fishing for a living.’
Eric chuckled. ‘I was in there about a month ago or so and I told him to drive up sometime and I’d take him out.’ ‘I suppose he never came.’ ‘No, he didn’t.’
‘Mother apparently wouldn’t give him permission,’ Maggie remarked sardonically.
Maggie’s mother had been’ a harridan for as long as Eric had known her. He remembered his fear of Vera Pearson when he’d dated Maggie and how the area women, in general, disliked her.
‘I take it she hasn’t changed.’
‘Not much. At least she hadn’t the last time I was home, which was.., oh, three years ago, I guess. She’s still got a ring in Daddy’s nose, and she’d like to see one in mine. Consequently, I don’t come home very often.’
‘You didn’t make the last class reunion.”
‘No... Phillip and I lived out here in
Seattle
then and.... i, its a long way. We just somehow never made it, we travel a lot, though.., or... well, we did, I mean.’ to
Her slip caused a moment’s awkwardness. ‘Sorry’, she inserted. ‘I !try not to do that, but sometimes it slips out.’
‘No, that s... that’s okay, Maggie.’ He paused, then admitted, ‘You know, I’m trying to picture you. Funny isn’t it, how hard it is to picture a person older than we remember them?’ In his mind she was still seventeen, thin and auburn-haired, with brown eyes, a delicate face and an attractively cleft chin. Vivacious. And laughing. He’d always been able to make her laugh so easily. I’ m older. Definitely older.’ ‘Aren’t we all?’
Eric picked up a teakwood pear from a wooden bowl in the centre of the table and rubbed it with his thumb. He’d never understood why
Nancy
put wooden fruit on the table when the genuine article grew all over
‘Yes, I do. We had a model marriage.’
He tried to think of some reply but none came. ‘I’m afraid I’m not much good at this, Maggie,
I’m sorry. When my dad died it was the same way. I didn’t know what the hell to say to my mother.”
‘It’s all right, Eric. It makes a lot of people uncomfortable, even me sometimes.’
‘Maggie, can I ask you something?’
‘Of course. ‘
He paused uncertainly. ‘No, I guess I’d better not.’ ‘No, go ahead. What?’
‘I’m curious, that’s all. It’s... well...’ Perhaps it was an impertinent question, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. ‘Why did you call?’
His question startled her, too; he could tell by the seconds of silence that followed.
‘I don’t know. Just to say hi.’
After twenty-three years, just to say hi? It seemed odd, yet there appeared no other logical reason.
She rushed on. “Well... it’s late, and I’m sure you have to be up early tomorrow. Saturday in The Door . . . I remember it well. Always a lot of tourists around then, and they probably all want to go fishing for salmon, right then, forgive me for waking you, and please apologize to your wife. I know I woke her, too.’
‘No problem, Maggie. Hey, I’m really glad you called. I ncan that.’
‘So am I.’
‘Well...’ Eric waited, uneasy for no good reason he could name, finally coming up with a closing remark. ‘Next time you come home, give us a call. I’d like you to meet
Nancy
.’
I’ll do that. And greet your mom and Mike for me. ‘I will.’
“Well, good-bye, Eric.”
‘Good-bye.’
The line clicked immediately but he sat for long moments, perplexed, gazing at the phone.