The Future Memoir of Ann Jones

by Alex Bailey

  “Ann,” Freda began in a much friendlier tone, “You need to get to know us better. Our stories. Our backgrounds.”

  Stories? What stories?

  “Each week, one of us will tell our story until all have been revealed.”

  Ann thought this might be an even better way for her to get to know the women. Although, she was starting to wonder why everyone thought the people on the West Coast were the strange ones. She’d never come across a group as odd as this one.

  “And then it’ll be your turn. You’ll tell us your story,” Freda commanded.

  As far as she knew, Ann didn’t have a story. Maybe she’d make up a good juicy one. She had never been particularly good at telling the kids stories when they were young. She had read them books. Mostly, her friend, Alex’s books. But she would wait to hear what the others came up with first.

  “Who would like to go first?” Freda searched the group.

  Every head sunk low. “You know I’ll call on someone if I get no volunteers.”

  “Oh alright,” Gloria said, “I’ll begin.”

  “Can I ask one question before you start?” Ann said.

  Freda nodded.

  “When do we knit?”

  “That’s entirely up to you. Begin any time.”

  While Ann pulled out her brand-new needles and yarn, no one else moved. No motions toward getting out their projects. She wondered why they weren’t all knitting. The only movement came from Phil, Amanda’s sugar glider. He poked his head out from behind her neck, then snapped it back and disappeared in her abounding hair.

  Diablo lifted his sleepy head when Gloria began her tale. She stroked his fur gently and he laid his head back down in her lap. “I grew up in a wee town in England,” Gloria began, “only about five thousand residents. Windsordon was a beautiful place, with green rolling hillsides, scattered with typical English cottages and a town center with a pub. My dad owned the pub.”

  Gloria spoke mainly to Ann, but occasionally glanced around the circle. The others must have heard the story before, because their gaze remained in their laps.

  Probably bored.

  Ann wondered if Gloria was telling her life story, or if it was a made-up one. So far, it sounded plausible.

  Gloria continued, “My brother, Will, and I would sneak in the back door of my dad’s pub when we were but children, and observe him serving the townsfolk. We heard all sorts of tall tales. Of course, most of it, we didn’t quite understand until we grew a bit.”

  Gloria smiled at Ann, and Ann nodded, acknowledging she understood before returning to her knitting.

  “My mum passed away when I was a teen and Dad spent more and more time at the pub. Or so we thought. One night, Will and I snuck into the pub. When we peeked around the corner of the bar, only my dad’s bartender was present serving pints.”

  Gloria’s voice became hushed, as if it were difficult to speak. “When Will and I went about town to try and find Dad, we were shocked and scared. He was sloshed and passed out in a narrow alley. We woke him up and he staggered home that night.”

  Ann looked up from her knitting but Gloria didn’t glance her way.

  “The next morning, Will and I were too frightened to bring it up, and Dad didn’t speak a word of it. We never snuck into the pub again. We simply didn’t want to know about his drinking problem.”

  Ann’s heart broke for her realtor. How horrible for Gloria to have to grow up with an alcoholic father and without a mom. She rested a hand on Gloria’s shoulder and Gloria patted Ann’s hand gratefully. She also thought it was rather brave of Gloria to reveal so much of her painful history to someone she didn’t know very well. Maybe Gloria was just a very open person. When Gloria continued her story, Ann went back to her knitting. She was amazed at how easily it all came back to her—just like riding a bike!

  “A short while after that happened, Gram came to live with us. She filled in for both of our parents. We got on with her quite well and became best chums.”

  Ann thought about the relationship with her own beloved grandmother, who had taught her how to knit and bake as a child.

  “A few years later, I was off to university. I went to Edinburgh. It was a grand four years, and I made some close friendships with my flat mates.” Gloria stared off into space. “How I do miss them.” After pausing, “Where was I?” she asked the air.

  “You went to college?” Dona said in a bored tone.

  Ignoring Dona’s snide comment, Gloria continued, “Ah yes, while I attended university, my friends and I often took the train into town. We did what you Americans call bar-hopping. We hit every pub in town over the years.

  “On one such visit, we were seated at a table and a group of rowdy boys from town were sitting on stools up at the bar. We thought them to be a group of quite gobby prats, to be honest. They seemed to have had one pint too many and didn’t know what they were saying. One of them shouted something like, ‘These nits are taking over our town. Why don’t they just get on a train and go back to their prep school where they came from’.

  “My chum, Sheila, wasn’t having any of it. We tried to hush her and keep her from making things worse but Sheila is a redhead, if you know what I mean.”

  Jasmine shot up out of her seat. “I beg your pardon? I don’t think I do know what you mean. Are you insinuating everyone with red hair has a temper?”

  “Well, my dear, I do believe you just proved my point,” Gloria grinned at her.

  “Ladies!” Freda barked as Jasmine backed down.

  “She’s not a real redhead anyway,” Dona sneered.

  “I am so. And look who’s talking, the one who gets her color from the cleaners you use to scrub your toilet with!”

  Dona rolled her eyes and scoffed, “No part of my being has ever touched a toilet, other than my bum. I don’t clean toilets like the rest of you, riffraff.” She snuzzled Lady AdoraBelle, a combination of snuggled and nuzzled.

  Freda jumped up and with her finger wagging, barked, “Ladies! Not another word. I’m warning you all!” She took a deep breath and sat back down. “Gloria, go on.”

  Gloria avoided looking in Jasmine’s direction. “So, Sheila got up and walked to the bar and confronted the bugger. She told him she had just as much right to be there as he did and the pub owner wasn’t turning their money away.

  “I think he was so shocked she had the nerve to confront him he couldn’t speak. Sheila quickly challenged him to a game of darts. Winner stayed, loser had to go.

  “She said later she knew she had him. Any guy that drunk wouldn’t even be able to hit the board, much less the target.

  “We all followed her into the back room where the dartboard hung on the wall—his group and ours. There were two old men throwing darts, but when they saw us converge on them with a determined look in our eyes, they dropped their darts and turned tail.

  “That broke the ice between our two groups because Sheila called them old chickens and the chap who yelled out to us agreed with her. As they stood side-by-side throwing darts, Sheila and the loud-mouthed arsehole, they sort of made eyes at each other. More than they paid attention to their dart throwing, anyway. I do believe they fancied each other.”

  Ann could tell Gloria was at a point in her story where she enjoyed telling it. Her face was joyous and far from the pained look of talking about her alcoholic father.

  “While we were all standing close together in that small room, each of us paired up, until eventually no one was paying attention to the game of darts any longer.”

  Gloria had a wide smile when she said, “One of the young men, Charles, approached me and apologized for his friends’ ghastly behavior. He was tall, handsome and had fabulous dark green eyes.”

  “And he was white,” Jasmine interjected.

  Freda shot her an angry look which caused Jasmine to wriggle into the back of her chair and drop her gaze to the floor.

  “Yes, he was white,” Gloria agreed. “It wasn’t quite a scandal twenty years ag
o, but it certainly wasn’t as accepted as it is today. But I’ll get to that part.

  “Anyway,” Gloria’s attention fell onto Jasmine who’d finally peered back at her. “Charles and I hit it off famously from the start. I like to think we fell in love that very night.”

  Ann glanced down at Gloria’s wedding band on her right ring finger and figured this love story must have a happy ending, and it warmed her heart.

  “Because we all formed a friendship that night, we began to take the train out to see our suitors each Friday afternoon after classes. Sometimes one or more would stay the weekend, and sometimes the guys would visit us in our flats back at university. After a while though, couples broke up and eventually it was down to only Charles and me left together.

  “We were madly in love. A year after we met, Charles got a job in a pub working the night shift. I started taking the train out Saturday mornings and met him at noon to have several hours before he’d have to report for his shift. Charles was saving to open his own pub one day. It was his dream to have a pub of his own.

  “As we grew closer and our love deepened that year, graduation was approaching and neither of us would broach the subject of what we were going to do. I think we were scared to mention it.

  “The weekend before graduation, Charles proposed marriage. Quite naturally, I accepted. He bought me a diamond engagement ring, but I insisted he return it. I wanted him to keep his money to save for his big dream.”

  Ann saw Gloria playing with her wedding band, and thought it was true love.

  “Stupid, if you ask me,” Dona said, flashing her gaudy diamond rings.

  “Well, no one’s asking ya,” Freda barked.

  Dona stuck her nose in the air.

  “That is just so romantic,” Bubbles eked out, shifted in her chair, and promptly folded her hands in her lap.

  “Charles was overjoyed I’d accepted his marriage proposal. He immediately drove me to his parents’ house an hour away to introduce me to his mum and dad and to make the announcement.”

  “This is my favorite part, right here coming up,” Bubbles said, giddily toward Ann.

  Ann looked up from her needles and enjoyed the look on Bubbles’ face.

  “When we arrived, Charles burst through the bright red door of their cottage and yelled, ‘Mum, Dad, I’m engaged!’”

  “I mean, what man would do that?” Bubbles said. “I just can’t get over it. It’s just the sweetest thing ever.”

  Bubbles’ enthusiasm didn’t seem to impress Gloria though, as she had a strained look. She continued, “His parents rushed into the kitchen and stopped dead in their shoes.”

  “His mum asked, ’Who’s this?’

  “’Mum, Dad, this is Gloria, my fiancée!’ Charles was so happy to make the announcement and eager for us to meet, he failed to notice the looks on their faces.”

  Ann wondered if it matched the look on Gloria’s face now.

  “‘This girl is black,’ his dad pointed out to him as if he must have been color-blind or something.”

  Ann was horrified for Gloria.

  “You know,” Jasmine said, “It’s not the worst thing in the world to be rejected because of your skin color.”

  “And what precisely, would you know about it!” Gloria demanded.

  “I’m a woman of color too,” Jasmine said, while she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Yes, I do suppose white is also a color,” Dona said sarcastically. Lady AdoraBelle nudged Dona’s hand in anticipation of being stroked and Dona obliged her.

  “I’m Hispanic!” Jasmine blurted out. “Therefore, I am brown-skinned.”

  “By marriage.” Dona rolled her eyes.

  “What do you mean by that!” Jasmine blurted out.

  Freda stood. “Enough!”

  The group’s attention turned toward Freda. “Gloria, proceed. And the rest of you keep quiet.” Freda sat back down as she mouthed to Jasmine, “I’m warning you.”

  Gloria sat up straight and continued, “Charles was stunned. I ran out of their house. I couldn’t get far enough away from them.

  “Charles dashed out of their cottage and caught up to me just as I reached the car. Tears streamed down my cheeks and as he gently turned me around to face him, he wiped them straight away with the cuff of his sleeve. Then he held me tight and said he’d be back presently.”

  Tears welled up in Ann’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine the pain Gloria felt and wondered if this story was going to have a happy ending after all. Did Gloria end up marrying someone else?

  Gloria continued, “To this day, I have no idea what he said to them after he went back inside. But I do know he never saw them or spoke to them again. And for that I feel utterly despondent.

  “We drove back in silence. When we arrived back at his flat, he queried, ‘Do you still want to marry me?’

  “I couldn’t believe he’d asked that question. I didn’t blame him for his parents’ ignorance. I asked him why he thought I wouldn’t, and he responded, ‘Did you see that mug on my Dad? Our kids could turn out to look like him!’

  “Naturally, I blubbered again,” Gloria’s face finally had a grin. “The following weekend was my graduation ceremony and Gram, Will, and my dad came to the ceremony. Charles worked a double shift the day before, so he could also make it.

  “After the ceremony, I introduced Charles as my fiancée to my family. He and Will got on famously. Gram fell in love with him instantly and winked at me when she hugged him. Dad stayed sober until we went out to celebrate afterward.

  “I’ll never know if it was the three pints that did it, but when Charles explained how he wanted to own his own pub one day, I thought Dad would be ecstatic I was marrying a man just like him. But all hell broke loose. He slammed his mug down on the table, rattled the dishes, and drew attention from the other patrons in the restaurant.

  “Gram’s eyes were as large as the saucers under the teacups on the table at afternoon tea. Dad shouted, ‘No daughter of mine will ever marry a drunkard! I forbid it.’

  “‘Dad,’ Will yelled and grabbed his arm, but Dad yanked it away. ‘Calm down Dad. You’re making a scene, and on this, Gloria’s graduation day!’

  “Dad stormed out of the restaurant with Will chasing after him. And you guessed it—I cried. Gram patted me on the back and tried to comfort me. Charles put his arm around me and pulled me toward him.

  “We were married in a chapel a few days later. Will, Gram, my flat mates and Charles’ friends attended. We never spoke about his parents or my dad’s absence. We were simply joyful and wanted everything to be harmonious.

  “But the stress of strained parental relationships soon got to both of us. We needed to be far away from all that rubbish. So, we made the decision to take the money Charles had saved and the money Gram gave us for our wedding and move to the States.

  “Charles wanted to move to Boston, the pub capital of the U.S. in hopes of finding a broken-down building and build it into something admirable.

  “It took a few years, and in the meantime, I worked as a realtor, but he eventually did just that. He named it ‘The Prep School Girl Public House’ and seeing as Boston is the home to MIT, Harvard, Boston University and a host of other universities, it seemed a natural fit. Only I knew the true meaning behind the name.”

  Ann felt somehow Gloria’s story was about to get its happy ending after all, and said, “Aw, that’s wonderful.”

  Gloria shot a quick smile, and then continued. “We both wanted children. We had names picked out, Jillian if it was a girl, or William if it was a boy. When it didn’t happen for several years, I started going through a series of tests. But there was nothing wrong. Charles got tested too and nothing showed up with him either. My physician joked and said maybe we weren’t doing it right. After it didn’t happen for several years, Charles and I discussed in vitro fertilization. He was willing to try anything. And so was I.

  “I took very painful shots and we created some embryos. We did a few
rounds of implanting them, but each of them ended in miscarriage.”

  Ann wanted to put her arm around Gloria, but something forced her to sit still. She never knew the pain of a miscarriage but could see it all over Gloria’s face.

  “There are still two embryos frozen, because we gave up afterward. I just have not had the heart to dispose of them.”

  “Well, that would be murder,” Jasmine said.

  Bubbles gasped.

  “Maybe in your world.” Dona glanced at her fingernails.

  Freda glared at Jasmine.

  “Well, God would think so.” Jasmine got up for another cookie.

  “You couldn’t try again?” Ann asked, feeling a little guilty, knowing she herself had two healthy children.

  Gloria looked uneasy. “Not really, you see Charles wasn’t around much longer. He was diagnosed with stomach cancer shortly after.”

  Wishing she hadn’t asked the question because now she was feeling even worse for Gloria, Ann said, “I’m so sorry.”

  “He fought it for quite a while. He would go into remission on and off, but when it came back, he was in tremendous pain.”

  “That must have been horrible for you, having to watch your husband die of cancer.”

  Jasmine snickered and Ann gave her a curious look, not understanding how she could be so insensitive.

  “He didn’t exactly die of cancer,” Gloria said. “You see, Charles was in great pain, but refused to go to hospital at the end. So, he attempted to take his own life with a bottle of pills. I had attended an open house for one of my clients. It didn’t last as long as I thought. The weather was dreadful, so potential buyers weren’t showing up. I discovered him when I arrived home. I immediately phoned the medics and when they arrived and revived him, he was furious. He was angry at me, at them, he was simply quite angry to be alive. It hurt so much to see him suffer so.”

  Ann was confused but waited patiently for Gloria to finish the story. She had abandoned her knitting project, which lay in her lap and all of her attention was on Gloria.

  “At the same time, there was a rash of break-ins in our neighborhood, and I was feeling vulnerable. So, I bought a lightweight .38 Special snub-nosed revolver, and went to target practice. I felt much more at peace and was able to sleep better at night.