On This Day (7 page)

I
listen with mild interest as Margaret recalls the hardships and pleasures of her early years of marriage, raising babies during the war years, her life changing when her husband came home. Mostly it sounds rather sweet and idyllic—like an old movie perhaps. My thoughts begin to drift, and I wonder why I encouraged her to tell me all this in the first place. On the other hand, she does seem to revel in this sentimental journey, and I have to wonder how long it’s been since she’s gone down these old roads. It’s a shame I don’t have a recorder or some way of taking all this down. I’m sure her family, especially Jenny, would appreciate hearing all this someday. At least I know I would in their place. My mother died when my boys were still small, and I missed so much.

Then Margaret begins recalling a time when her marriage was in serious peril, and my ears perk up.

“The children were nearly grown by then. One still in high school, the other in college,” she’s saying. “And I guess it was what you might call a midlife crisis.”

I lean forward with interest. “Your husband? What did he do?”

She smiles, sadly it seems. “Not my husband, dear. Me.”

“Oh …”

She nods. “I could make excuses—say that I married too soon and never got to do all the things I wanted or that Calvin was too distracted with his work, his career, and neglected me—and while some of it would be true, it’s not really the truth.”

“No?”

“No. The truth is, I allowed my heart to stray.”

“Did you have an affair?” I wish I hadn’t said it, can’t believe I let the words slip out. But there it is, lying between us now. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s none of my business—”

“Nonsense. I’m the one who’s doing the telling here.” She sighs and shakes her head with what seems sincere regret. “And I’ve never told anyone before—”

“Please don’t feel you need to now,” I interrupt, feeling slightly voyeuristic, not to mention nosy, since I really do want to hear the rest of this. I’ve always had Margaret on something of a pedestal. I know Jenny has too. Even Jeannette goes on about how Margaret is just a step below sainthood. Naturally, I’m curious.

“No, that’s just it. I do feel that I need to say this now.” She presses her lips together. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Not at all,” I assure her. “And you can trust me. What’s said here stays here.”

She smiles. “Yes, I had a feeling. Jenny is always telling me how her secrets are safe with you.”

I check on the baby, who’s still sleeping soundly, pink rosebud lips parted enough that the pacifier has tumbled onto the yellow fleecy blanket beneath her. Then I sit down, lean back in the chair, and wait.

“As I said, I could make excuses, and believe me, I’ve done that before—if only in my head—but the truth is, I
allowed
my heart to stray. And I knew better.” She reaches up and pats her hair as if she’s remembering a time when it wasn’t snowy white, a time when her face wasn’t creased with wrinkles and laugh lines, a time when her faded blue eyes must’ve been brighter and clearer. “I was about your age, or maybe younger, although we seemed older back then. I don’t know how you kids keep yourselves looking so youthful.”

I laugh and wave my hand. “Thanks, but it might just be your perspective.”

“Perhaps. Well, back to my story. A dear friend of the family, Dr. William Kelley, had been widowed for a few years, and then his receptionist left to have a baby, and I offered to fill in until he found a new one. Dr. Kelley was a distinguished-looking man with a gracious manner. I’d always admired him, but it had never been anything more than that. So I went to work for him, and during
the slack times, he and I would visit. We could just talk and talk, and I felt as if he really respected my opinions and thoughts, and I rather enjoyed the attention. Oh, it’s not that Calvin wasn’t like that. It’s just that we’d been married for a long time, and I suppose we took each other a bit for granted…”

I can see her grip tighten on the arms of the chair, and I know this isn’t easy for her. “Don’t we all do that,” I admit. “I mean, once we’ve been married for a while, don’t we all take each other for granted?”

“Perhaps …but I still feel bad about it.” She reaches in her sweater pocket for a handkerchief and daintily wipes a tear from her cheek, then sighs and continues. “At the time I told myself that Dr. Kelley and I were simply good friends. He was lonely, and I was, well, at a place where I felt a bit lost.”

“Because your children didn’t need you so much?” I offer. “And your husband was focused on his work?”

“Yes, I’m sure those were factors. But as I already said, I didn’t stop myself; I chose to step into what I fully knew to be sin.”

There’s a long silence now, and I try to imagine a much younger, probably very beautiful Margaret, falling into the arms of the handsome but grieving physician. Perhaps there were no patients that afternoon … the privacy of an examining room. Then I make myself stop, because she’s speaking again.

“I told myself that our lengthy conversations were innocent, but I knew my heart was falling in love. I became obsessed with him. I’d spend all my time thinking of him, doing special little
things for him, driving by his house on my way home from the grocery store, making up an excuse to run an errand that might cause me to bump into him. And finally it seemed my dreams were coming true. Dr. Kelley told me he was in love with me. We were closing up the office due to an unexpected blizzard. I was checking thermostats and turning off lights, and he stopped me in the hallway and, right then and there, confessed his love for me.” She sighs deeply. “Oh, I was so surprised. I think I honestly believed it was only me enjoying something of a schoolgirl crush that could never be returned. But there he was, telling me his heart was involved too. The next thing I knew we were kissing.” She actually blushes now, using the handkerchief to dab at her flushed cheeks. “It was quite scandalous really.”

I’m dying to know what happened next, but for once I manage to bite my tongue and just wait. Let her tell this story in her timing. I pretend to distract myself by checking on Amy, but she is sound asleep now.

“And that was it,” says Margaret with a tone of finality.

“That was it?” I can’t help but feel disappointed—as if I’ve been watching this romantic movie, and suddenly it’s over without a single real love scene.

She smiles. “I told Dr. Kelley that I had to quit working for him and that I could never see him again. At least not privately.”

“Did you tell him you loved him?”

“No, of course not. That would’ve only made things worse. It
might have given him hope, and I’m sure that would’ve hurt him even more.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I would never have left Calvin for him.”

“Oh.”

“Our marriage wasn’t perfect. Not by any means. But I wasn’t willing to toss it aside, either. Maybe values were different back then, or maybe people settled more easily than they do nowadays. Sometimes I think the younger generation has such unattainable ideals. It seems they want it all—happiness, wealth, health, the works. But maybe that’s not how God intended it. I suppose I believe that God gives us some hardships to strengthen us. Or maybe it’s just so we’ll wake up and smell the coffee.” She smiles. “Do you think?”

“I guess so.”

“Most of all, I think God wants to remind us that heaven is meant to be experienced in heaven, not here on earth. Maybe I would’ve gotten some short-lived happiness by indulging my affections for Dr. Kelley. But the bottom line is, I still believed in my wedding vows. I still cared about Calvin. And I suppose I viewed my marriage as an investment of sorts. I’d already put the best years of my life into it, and I wasn’t ready to throw all that away. And then there were the children. So much to lose. Do you know what I mean?”

I consider this. “Maybe.”

I
’m just finishing my story when someone vigorously knocks on my door. The sound makes me jump and wakes the slumbering baby. Elizabeth runs to get the door, and I check on little Amy, who is now beginning to fuss. I replace the pacifier in her mouth and then carefully pick her up, cradling her in my arms. I lean down and inhale a whiff of fresh baby scent. Ah, there is nothing sweeter on earth.

“Sorry to barge in like this,” says the woman who had been seated at our luncheon table earlier. The one who had left looking rather upset. “But I was looking for you.”

“For me?” Elizabeth looks surprised but lets the woman into my room. “Do you remember Suzette?” she asks me. “Her husband is Michael’s boss.”

“Oh yes,” I say with a smile. “I do remember. How are you, Suzette? Would you care to sit—”

“No, I just hoped I could steal Elizabeth from you—”

“But I’m helping Margaret baby-sit,” Elizabeth says quickly. “And we were—”

Just then Amy lets out a little squeal. “I think it might be feeding time anyway,” I tell them. “Perhaps we should get her back to her mommy.”

“Here,” says Elizabeth. “Let me take her back for you. You should at least put your feet up for a while. It’s only a couple of hours before the wedding.”

“Yes, you may be right.”

Elizabeth points to the diaper bag. “Why don’t you get that, Suzette?” Within seconds the two of them and the baby are gone, and once again my room is quiet.

Quiet—how quiet my life has become. I slip off my shoes and lie down on the bed, pulling the bedspread over me. And for a brief moment, merely seconds, I remember how I felt the day William confessed his love to me. But I am surprised at how this memory no longer brings a thrill. Only sadness. In fact, if I could trade that day, that moment, that memory for just one more day with Calvin, I would. I so gladly would.

I never knew for sure whether Calvin found out or suspected there was anything between William and me. Certainly he never said as much, although he was curious why I quit the job suddenly.

“I miss being at home,” I told him. “And I want time to get things ready for Karen. You know, she graduates this year, and there are all those senior activities.” And he seemed to buy that. Although I do recall him commenting on something one time after that. We’d been to a dinner party, a party where William had been a guest as well. I’d been cordial, as had he, but we both remained cool and somewhat distant. As we were driving home, Calvin said, “Dr. Kelley seems sad.”

“Oh?” I said, hoping to sound nonchalant.

“Yes. I think he misses you.”

“Misses me?”

“As his receptionist, you know. I’m sure he thought you were quite a find.” Then Calvin turned to me and smiled. “Fortunately, I found you first.”

And I do feel fortunate. Because when it was all said and done, no one ever could’ve loved me like my Calvin. And I never could’ve loved anyone nearly as much as him.

Our love seemed to grow over the years. He became less obsessed with his work, and we began to travel some. And the older we got, the dearer he became to me. And now I miss him so. There are, in fact, only two things I really regret about Calvin. One is that I ever let myself get swept away by my foolish infatuation with Dr. Kelley. The other is that Calvin is gone. But I have a feeling it won’t be terribly long before we’re together again.

I haven’t told my family, but only a few weeks ago my doctor told me that my heart condition is rather serious. He is even suggesting
some newfangled surgery where they plant a device inside my heart to keep it going. But I told him I didn’t want to do anything yet. “Let me make it to my granddaughter’s wedding without all this fuss,” I pleaded with him. “Then we can talk about it later.” Fortunately, he agreed.

W
hat on earth is urgent?” I ask Suzette as we go downstairs.

“I just really, really need to talk to you.”

I give her a sideways glance. “I’m surprised you’re up and able to talk after all the cocktails you put away earlier.” I’m actually amazed that this woman can walk in a straight line, but she seems to be getting along okay, although I notice she’s wearing flats now.

Suzette waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, that’s all over with. I threw up in my room. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh …” We’re in the lobby now, and I see my sons, Conner and Patrick, checking in at the main desk.

“You guys made it!” I say as I abandon Suzette and go over and give them hugs. “How was the drive?”

Conner makes a face. “Pat’s driving almost made me lose my lunch.”

“Hey, those curves are fun.”

“I thought Lucinda was coming with you,” I say to Conner. Lucinda is his most recent girlfriend.

“Nah, her dad got sick, had to go to the hospital. She decided to stay home.”

“Is it anything serious?”

“Kidney stones, they think.”

“Sounds painful.”

I turn to Patrick. “Did you guys get your room okay?”

“Yeah.” He dangles a key. “We thought we’d dump our stuff, then head down to the pool to cool off.”

“Sounds like fun.” I realize Suzette is nearby, probably right behind me, because I can smell her overpowering perfume. I had hoped to lose her, but it seems that’s not to be. So I turn around and attempt to smile as I introduce her to my sons.

“Sorry to steal your mom away from you guys,” she says in a slightly flirtatious voice.

“Oh, that’s okay,” says Patrick. And to my dismay, they actually seem relieved I’m not going to tag along with them.

“Where’s Dad?” asks Conner as he picks up his duffel bag and throws the strap over his shoulder.

I shrug. “Last I heard, he was taking a hike.”

“Hey, you can rent canoes here,” announces Patrick as he
holds up the brochure that tells of all the activities available at the lake.

“Well, don’t forget what time the wedding is,” I remind them. “Jenny would be disappointed if her two ushers were late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Conner as he nods to his brother. “Let’s get going.”

“Come on, Elizabeth,” Suzette says impatiently. “Let your boys get on their way.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as she tugs me along.

“To get a drink,” she says.

“Oh, I don’t think—” I stop talking when I spot Phil coming straight toward us. His face is slightly flushed and hard to read, but it looks like a cross between confusion and serious irritation.

“Elizabeth?” he says in a firm voice.

“Yes?” I give him the blankest of looks.

“I think we should—”

“You can have her later,” interrupts Suzette. “She’s mine for the moment.”

He looks even more flustered now. Clearly, he’s not used to Suzette’s bossy ways. And I know it’s unkind, but his bewildered expression almost makes me laugh. Fortunately, I don’t.

He reaches out as if to grab my arm, then stops. “But, Elizabeth, we really need to—”

“Later,” says Suzette firmly, and the next thing I know she’s leading me outside, which is a relief, partly because I didn’t want to sit in that stupid bar with her again. Even more that that, I’m
relieved to get away from Phil. I’m not sure if I’m in denial or avoidance or what, but I think I’m mostly trying to keep a damper on our marital fireworks. At least until this whole wedding is over and done with. And the sooner the better.

“Elizabeth!”

I turn to see Jeannette waving at me and hurrying over to us. “Where are you two going?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure.” I turn to Suzette and give her a questioning look.

“For a ride,” says Suzette. “You wait here. I’ll get my car.”

“What’s going on?” demands Jeannette. “Since when did you two get so thick?”

So I explain the volatile situation with Suzette and her husband, controlling the urge to tell her about my own marriage problems, which seem to be getting worse.

“Oh dear!” Jeannette is clearly disturbed by this news. “Then by all means, Elizabeth, do whatever it takes to keep that woman happy and quiet. Jenny told me that she can be quite a handful if she gets upset.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about.”

“She could ruin the whole wedding.”

“I know. But what should I do?”

“Placate her, talk to her, encourage her—I don’t know. Whatever you do, just know that Jenny and all of us will greatly appreciate it if you can keep a lid on her. But don’t be late for the wedding. Okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Just then Suzette pulls up in a metallic gold Jaguar convertible. When she stops next to me, the top begins going down. I turn and grin at my sister. “Well, anyway, this should be fun.”

Jeannette just shakes her head. “Take care, Sis. I owe you one.”

So I slide onto the smooth white leather seat next to Suzette, and before I can fasten my seat belt, she tears out of there, spitting gravel and dust behind us.

“Where are you going?” I ask, since she looks quite determined, as if she has a specific destination in mind.

“A little place down the road.”

I consider this as pine trees whiz past us like shooting stars. I don’t recall seeing anything down the road. But, as Jeannette said, I’m here to keep Suzette happy. The next thing I know, she is pulling into a roadside dive that I had missed. Maybe I blinked when we passed it on the way in. The faded wood sign above the door proclaims the establishment to be Jack’s Place, and there are a couple of neon beer signs hanging in the only window, which leads me to believe it’s a tavern.

“You really want to go in here?” I ask as she stops the engine and opens the door.

“Sure, why not? Might be interesting to see some of the local color.”

“Okay …,” I say as I slowly climb out of the pretty car. “Don’t you want to put the top up?”

“Nah, it doesn’t look like rain.”

I don’t argue as I follow her through the swinging door and into the dimly lit room. A couple of video poker machines right next to the door are occupied, one by a burly man with a full beard and the other by an elderly woman wearing a Steelers jacket and dangling a cigarette loosely from her lips.

There are a couple of guys sitting at the bar. More “local color,” I’m guessing. Suzette and I take a table off to the side. The vinyl-covered chairs look like some my mother had in her kitchen when I was little, and they haven’t been washed since that time. The Formica-topped table is chipped along the edges and sticky on top with who knows what. I set my small purse in my lap and casually wonder if my cell phone might work from here, although I doubt it since this place feels even more remote than the lodge. But I do notice a pay phone over by the poker machines. I suppose it would work in an emergency. Then I ask myself what I think is going to happen that would constitute an emergency. Just because some of these people appear to be of the backwoods variety doesn’t mean they’re wanted as ax murderers.

After a few minutes, a middle-aged bald man wearing a faded blue tank top with a stain across the chest slowly walks over to our table. “What can I get for you two ladies?”

“I’d like a Cosmo,” says Suzette in a prim voice.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“Do you have iced tea?” I ask timidly.

“Long Island?”

“No, no … How about a Coke?”

“Straight up?” His tone is teasing now.

I force a smile directly at him. “Yes, give me a Coke
straight up.”

Suzette lets out an exasperated sigh after the man leaves. “Geeze, Elizabeth, you could at least have a glass of wine. It’s not very nice to make a girl drink alone.”

“You’re not alone,” I tell her.

Now she leans forward, as if she’s about to confide in me. “I talked to your husband today.”

“What?”
I look at her incredulously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I talked to Phil.”

“Oh, you mean back at the lodge,” I say hopefully. “When you told him he’d have to wait to talk—”

“No, I mean when I was out on a walk earlier. I was trying to find my no-good, cheating husband.”

“You actually
talked
to Phil?” This news is unsettling. I can’t imagine what she might’ve said or how Phil took it. And while I know that Suzette has every right to speak to anyone she wishes, the idea of her having a conversation with Phil is very disturbing.

She smiles smugly. “Yes, I actually talked to him.
And
I gave him a piece of my mind.”

I groan now. “That’s just great.”

“Here you go, ladies,” says the bartender as he sets down our drinks. No coasters or napkins, just right down on the already-gummy table. I’ll be surprised if we can pry them off, not that I care particularly. He grins at us now, revealing that he’s missing a tooth on one side. “I’m guessing you ladies ain’t from around here.”

Suzette holds up her glass as if to toast him. “You’re guessing right. Thank goodness. And keep the drinks coming.”

He salutes her. “No problem, ladies.”

As soon as he’s out of earshot, I continue. “Seriously, Suzette. What did you say to Phil?”

“I simply let him know that he was a lowdown dirty dog and that I knew what he was doing and you did too.”

“You really said that?”

She nods proudly. “I did.”

I consider the irony of how I’m trying to keep a lid on things for Suzette, and in the meantime she’s out throwing gasoline on my little fire. Why did I ever trust this woman in the first place?

“You know, Phil is a good-looking guy,” she tells me, “and I can see how a younger woman might be attracted to him.”

“You mean like you?”

She laughs and waves her hand. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth. I’d never make a move on a friend’s husband.”

I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered that this poor woman actually considers me to be her friend.

“Oh, come on,” she pleads. “Don’t get all gloomy on me, Elizabeth. I want to be happy. And I invited you here for a little celebration.”

“A celebration?”

“That’s right.” She holds up her nearly empty glass now. “Here’s to our new friendship and our newfound freedom.”

I limply hold up my Coke glass and say a weak, “Cheers.”

Then she begins to babble on and on about how it will be good to be single again, how we’ll both probably get really great divorce settlements, and how there are lots more fish in the sea. Those are her exact words: “more fish in the sea.” Give me a break.

I feel sick inside. As if my world is tipping sideways and I have absolutely no control over anything. I’m even tempted to follow Suzette’s example and order something stronger than a Coke. But then I remember that I’m here to keep Suzette happy and out of trouble, and even if I’m miserable doing it, I realize I can and must do this for Jenny’s sake.

I almost wonder if that sleazy barkeeper hasn’t slipped something into my Coke, because everything feels a bit hazy and surreal right now. I suppose I’m being paranoid. I’m sure it’s just me, watching my world steadily slip away. But Suzette’s constant chatter seems to float right past me as she starts her second drink. For a brief moment I consider cutting her off, but the alcohol appears to have a soothing effect on her.

I am mostly thinking about, obsessing over, my own life right now. Is my marriage really finished? Is it possible I will actually have to follow my crazy plan of moving to a small town and buying a bookstore-coffee shop and a used BMW? Even if I made these changes, would they really make me happy? And is that what Phil wanted to talk to me about this afternoon? He had such a strange look in his eyes, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s finally ready
to tell all, just spill the beans. And even if that’s so, am I ready to hear it? Then a completely new and somewhat desperate thought hits me—what will our sons think of all this?

Oh, dear Lord, please help me. I’m in way over my head
.