by D. Brown
“Well, we can’t,” Maggie replied softly, even though she tried all afternoon and into tonight to put what happened out of her mind. “I tried.”
“Then try harder. I’m not supposed to feel what I’m feeling right now and it scares the hell out of me.”
When she saw Sam her original intent was to come and apologize for her behavior today. Now she found herself wanting to defend her feelings, or Sam’s, and not dismiss them as something whimsical or trivial, or a bi-product of the moment.
“You saved my son.”
“What I did was a stupid and foolish thing. I should have let the pros handle it.”
“They might not have gotten there in time, and you will never convince me otherwise. You saved my son.”
“Then we were fortunate everything worked out for the best.”
Sam’s internal storm of conflict matched the flickering fury of the distant storms around them.
“I haven’t been happy in a long time,” Maggie confessed. “I guess I just realized it.”
Sam didn’t want to talk about this, yet wanted to tell her everything. Nothing good would come of it, he knew, but he hoped for the best possible outcome. He found the words bubbling forth before he could shove them back down his throat.
“I haven’t allowed myself to feel anything since I found out about Diane,” Sam said and then added, turning to look at her. “This isn’t right.”
“Nothing’s happened,” she said.
“Not yet.”
Then he flashed a hard look sharpening the features on his face. Anger flickered across his eyes like the flickers of lightning in the distance.
“You call that nothing? Come on Maggie. Do you say that to every guy you meet on the beach?”
His sarcasm stung.
“So, is this how it works? If a woman doesn’t come up to you and spit in your face, and shows you the smallest amount of compassion or gratitude, is this how you return the favor? I’m sorry Sam, but I’m not your wife. I’m not the one who cheated on you.”
“You have a husband,” he said. “That makes me no better or different than Frank Wiley.”
“We haven’t done anything!”
“No, but we want to!”
Sam wanted her right now, but he struggled to deny his desire.
This was wrong.
“I don’t want this,” he said finally. “I won’t be like Frank Wiley.”
Maggie’s temper flared. “That’s awful presumptuous of you. How dare you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a married woman. Why is it that because I’m a married woman I can no longer carry on a civil conversation with a man who might not be my husband without people thinking I want to jump into bed with him? Why does everything between a man and a woman have to begin and end with sex?”
“You said yourself, you haven’t been happy in a long time.”
“And you said you haven’t let yourself feel anything since your wife died. You make it sound like I'm throwing myself at your feet. I’m sorry I didn’t handle my son potentially drowning very well. I’m not used to such situations. And you . . .”
Her voice trailed off and her lower lip threatened to collapse.
“How do you think I feel about what happened to you? How do you think I feel knowing I’m responsible for the fact that you nearly drowned? This was my fault, Sam. I should have been watching him. That’s my job. I’m his mother. If I’m no good at anything else in life, I’m supposed to be a good mother. Instead I had my head lost in the clouds because I couldn’t get you out of my head. How do you think that makes me feel, Sam? I’m a married woman. I belong to the church auxiliary. I’m the president of the PTA. My husband’s flight hasn’t even landed yet and I about kill his son, and it’s all because I’m thinking about a man who is not my husband.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“And I did? All I wanted was a cup of sugar!”
“Next time I’ll make sure the door’s closed.”
“Next time think of something a little less cowardly to do than contemplate suicide.”
“I told you the gun wasn’t loaded!”
Sam slammed the cedar railing in disgust, “That’s it, I'm out of here. I can’t do this.”
He stormed off down the cedar walkway and disappeared into the darkness of the lower beach. Maggie started after him. This wasn't how she intended or wanted this conversation to go. She came out here to get some air and clear her head, and when she saw Sam she wanted to apologize for what she said earlier.
She didn’t want a fight.
She didn’t want this.
Maggie didn’t intend to leave things unresolved with Sam either so she followed him down the cedar walkway and onto the beach.
20
Maggie couldn’t find him anywhere.
“Sam!”
But calling out his name down here did absolutely no good.
Down at the waterline, the slope of the beach blocked most all of the ambient light coming from the hotel, village shops and waterfront homes above.
It contained all of the noise too.
The twilight deepened, chasing away the last stubborn traces of dusk and at her feet Maggie found a set of partially washed-out footprints heading off to the south in the direction of the pier.
She started off to the south after him.
As she approached the pier she saw Sam pass beneath an amber cone of light.
She climbed the steps to the pier and turned left, following the line of lights leading to the pier’s end.
She could make out Sam in the distance, caught in an odd, slow motion strobe as he passed beneath each cone of light only to disappear into the darkness a moment later.
Maggie slowed the urgency in her step. There was nowhere he could go except back her way, and Maggie figured Sam coming out to the pier wasn’t so much him running away as seeking out a place of peace and quiet, and solitude she had no intention of letting him have.
Maggie found Sam leaning against the railing, arms folded and propped on his elbows, and staring off into the darkness.
“Hi there,” she said as moved to the railing next to him.
Sam turned and looked at her briefly, his expression betraying nothing but anguish and remorse, “Why am I not surprised you followed me.”
“It’s my nature Sam. I don’t like to leave things unresolved like that.”
“You like having the last word I take it.”
He smiled.
She smiled back.
“I don’t want to fight,” he said quietly. “This is wrong.”
“Then we won’t fight.”
“I didn’t want this.”
“I know.”
“I saw David, and I was in the water and hadn’t given anything a second thought, not whether or not it was my place, or whether or not I could even reach him without sinking like a big stone to the bottom. I just . . . reacted.
“I saw him out there and I saw what was happening and the only thing that went through my mind the whole time out there: No way will I let this happen again. Not to him and certainly not to you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Maggie said. “You did the right thing.”
“I did for a complete stranger what I couldn’t do for my wife and the mother of my children,” Sam said.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, and Maggie didn’t press. Let the rage expend itself, she thought.
“Tell me about him,” Sam said after a long silence. “Tell me about your husband.”
“You want to know about Robert.”
Sam nodded, “Yeah . . . I want to know about Robert.”
Maggie sighed, “Robert thinks Galileo and Copernicus got it wrong. The sun’s not the center of the universe, he is.”
“A bit self-absorbed?”
“Like a sponge. You haven’t noticed already?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess that’s none of my business.”
&nbs
p; “You asked,” she said. “I answered.”
“Okay, how long have you been married?”
Maggie did the math quickly, “Nineteen years this fall.”
“How old were you when you met?”
“High school, I was 16. Robert was two years ahead of me. He went off to college, and I did the normal high school dating thing. He came back that next summer and started showing up at the same places I was, always hanging around. He asked me out over the July Fourth weekend in fact. Funny, I forgot all about that.”
“Were there others?”
Maggie cut him a look, “What do you mean by others?”
“Other men, before him.”
“No,” she said as if reciting practiced answers to an interrogation. “Robert was the first and only man I’ve ever been with.”
“Do you love him?”
Maggie hesitated, almost blurting out, “why of course I love him,” but something made her stop. She’d answered the question many times before over the years, often without stopping to consider the question and her answer.
Only this time, her standard reply didn’t come.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. “I meant what I said earlier when I said I haven’t been happy for a long time. I don’t know what’s happened. Nothing specific, that’s just it, nothing’s happened. We’re just there. Maybe time dulled the color in our marriage, I don’t know. Nineteen years of marriage and we’ve been slowly growing apart ever since we started having children.
“It’s not that my marriage has gone bad, but lately my marriage has lost all its meaning. I don’t care anymore.”
“But there was something that attracted you to him initially, what was that?”
“I asked myself that same question recently and the best answer I could come up with were his looks. He’s a good looking man. Pretty sad commentary isn’t it?”
“It’s the good looks that catch the eye,” Sam said, “But it’s the inner beauty that wins the heart.”
Maggie smiled, “Considered a new career writing for Hallmark?
Sam laughed, “Corny. I could have said, ‘beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes to the bone,’ but it’s certainly not as eloquent.”
“Can I ask you something?” Maggie turned and looked up at him.
“Sure.”
“Why?”
He looked at her, “Why what?”
“Why are you so angry?”
“I’m angry?”
“Yes,” Maggie said. “There are times when you seem like the most giving and generous man I’ve met in a long time, and there are others where you are so angry and you lash out at the whole world. There’s this constant air of rage around you. You’re angry. I just want to know why.”
Sam thought about it for a second or two then said, “Because life sucks.”
“Life doesn’t suck, Sam. Life is precious.”
“Well, that’s easy for you to say coming from your perspective. You’ve got your husband, good or bad, he’s still your husband, and you have your family. You have a nice life to fall back on even if it doesn’t float your boat all the time it’s still a pretty nice life. This is your vacation. In a couple weeks you’ll go back home and fall back into that mundane but comfortable routine of women’s auxiliary meetings on Tuesdays, soccer and softball practice, PTA meetings on Thursday nights, dinner at the club on Fridays, and boring sex twice a month. How can life not suck for you Maggie? You’ve got it made.”
His words stung and Maggie felt the heat of her own anger rekindle in the flush in her cheeks. “I’m not sure I appreciate those remarks.”
“You asked,” he said. “I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure this is all an amusing little game for you to tell the ladies at the club over cocktails and what you did on your summer vacation.”
Anger sparked, “What happened this afternoon was no game to me, Sam. I was scared for my life back there. I was scared for yours.”
“Well my life is nothing for you to be concerned about,” he said. “I’m an interesting diversion while your husband is away, nothing more.”
“How dare you. That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Maggie?” Sam looked at her with a dull coldness in his eyes. “This is how I see your life. When you were growing up your mother and father took care of your every whim, you were never wanting for anything. You had it all . . . anything a child could want. I bet you even got the pony you asked Santa for. After that, your husband stepped in and took over, and your only obligation then was maybe to put out whenever he wanted it and to keep the kitchen clean. You satisfied his ego by providing him with a male heir; a namesake to continue the family name and you went about your life playing the role of this happy little housewife.
“While your marriage seems to have gone a little or a lot flat over the years, you’ll never do anything about it, never consider leaving him because your life is safe. You may be bored right now, but you’re bored living a safe life and safe is okay with you. You might be missing a little spice lately, but all in all you don’t seem to mind enough to do something about it. You are a little Miss Priss leading your Little Miss Priss life.”
Maggie lashed out to slap him but Sam caught her wrist in mid-swing. She tried to slap him again with her left hand but Sam caught that one as well. She tried to jerk away but Sam held on to her tightly.
“You’re hurting me,” she said.
“Well Maggie, you’re killing me,” he said softly and let her hands go, his anger no longer able to conceal the raw anguish in his eyes. “If you want to slap me, go ahead. It can’t hurt any more than the hurt I already feel. Do you want to know why I’m so angry? You really want to know?”
Maggie replied with a barely audible, “yes.”
“I’m angry because Mother Nature is a bitch and God is like a kid with an ant farm. I meet what I think is quite possibly the most fascinating woman I could ever come to know and she’s married to someone else. I meet a woman who could make everything right in my world, but I’ll never get the chance to find out. I meet a woman who could bring out the best in me, but all I’m able to show her is my very worst. Why am I so angry? Because this is killing me, I can’t think of anything else but you lately and I can’t do a god damned thing about it. That’s why I’m angry.”
Another white crack appeared in the dark windowpane of the night sky and a cascade of thunder showered over them.
“It’s late,” he said. “It’s about to storm. You need to get back to your kids. They’ll wonder where you are.”
Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets and started off slowly back up the pier, head down, looking at his feet. He didn’t walk with any urgency or purpose in his step, he just walked to get away from here and whether or not Maggie followed was of no concern to him.
Maggie started off after him, catching up and walking beside him, silently now, as no more words needed to be spoken.
Her mind reeled from Sam’s words. His commentary was biting, almost cruel, and they stunned her, leaving her unable to reply. On the other hand though, he hit the nail on the head. He summed up her life in ten words: You’re a Little Miss Priss leading a Little Miss Priss life.
21
They walked in silence.
Maggie wasn’t sure if Sam even noticed she was still here with him or if he cared whether she was or not. They walked barefoot in the wet sand near the water line, leaving behind a pair of meandering footprint trails. The serenade of the ocean surf sang in harmony with the hushed whisper of the wind sweeping in from the east. It carried with it the scent and ominous threat of rain.
She started to ask him a question, something she wanted to know, but then stopped. Three times she tried, until Sam finally stopped, looked at her, and said, “What?”
There was no more fight in his voice.
Defeat registered in his expression.
They took a few more steps as Maggie wrestled with the words.
“Has there been anyone else . . . sinc
e Diane?”
Sam hesitated.
“No,” he said after the long pause and continued walking. “There hasn’t been anyone since Diane, not even a casual date or two, or even a gratuitous one night stand.”
“There’s been no one?” Maggie eyebrows arched in surprise.
“No one,” Sam replied.
“My God, Sam.”
Why is that so hard to comprehend? I haven’t been with a woman in more than three years, and things weren’t going very well with Diane back then if you recall, so it had been months since we’d done anything then,” he shook his head. “What’s so hard to think that a man can’t go that long without sex? I never was one to just hop in the sack just for the sake of hopping in the sack.”
“You’ve never had sex simply for the sake of having sex?”
Sam shook his head no. “I’m sorry if I’m an incurable romantic, but no. Actually, I find that whole concept repugnant.”
“I’m surprised every available woman on Tybee Island hasn’t gotten wind of you yet. I think you’re the only man in creation who thinks that way.”
“I’m not interested in every available woman on Tybee,” Sam replied, “I always thought there was more to all this than just sex for the sake of having sex. I feel differently about it I guess.”
Maggie looked down at her feet, not sure if she were ready to take the next step down the road she knew had chosen, but not wanting to ignore that path completely either.
Never before had the passage of time felt so excruciating.
Sam wanted her and realized he never wanted anything so bad before in his life.
“The spark has been missing from our marriage for quite some time now,” as if Maggie tried to validate everything; to qualify what she felt and how she’d acted the past couple days and why she was here, right now, walking on the beach at night with a man who was not her husband. “He regards me more as a possession, more hired help than as a wife.”
Sam reached down and took her hand in his, quickly and impulsively, as if to do so before common sense and a guilty conscience talked him out of it. Maggie looked up into his eyes, feeling her heart swell with both desire and panic.
