by Gina Kincade
“Could you all please just be quiet?” Maggie finally barked out when she could take no more. She stunned the room silent, following her outburst with, “Thank you.”
Blank stares met her from every face around the room. Each one seemed to be expecting more, but she had no more in her to come out yet. Jordy moved to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for nods from everyone before speaking.
“We can do that. All you need to do is ask. Do you know where we are Margaret?”
She hated that he didn’t call her Maggie.
“Yes.”
“Okay sweetie, do you know why we are here?”
Maggie’s patience had not returned with her voice.
“Yes, I do. And, I know what day it is, who everyone is, and that my mother is no longer here.”
Jordy was trying to be gentle. It was annoying Maggie.
“That’s right, she is gone. We are trying to decide what to do next.”
Maggie took a long slow breath before speaking. This would be like balancing on an inner tube on the pond to get out of without making waves and upsetting everything. She knew she was only going to get one shot.
“First, I’m glad you are all here. I have no idea what or how to do for mama now, or if we get to do a funeral or whatever. I know she would want to be with daddy, but that’s all I know about that, so for that, help.
Everything else will have to wait. Once mama is taken care of and I have time to think, the rest will come. I’m old enough now, and I have been listening to the conversations amongst you. I cannot, and will, not have you uprooting your lives, your families, or my life to make room for me. Help me get mama to daddy and get set to go, then let’s go back to loving each other on holidays and through the telephone. It’s been too long, and none of us seem all that eager to start over.”
Blank faces morphed to shame as they realized their every word had been heard. There was no use in arguing either. Even now, Maggie was every bit Mack’s daughter, and at just shy of twenty-one she was not only old enough, she was right. She was just stubborn enough too to hold fast and get her way.
WEEKS LATER, MAGGIE made the journey to Iowa with family. The remains for Jane Ann Margaret Mason Donald were laid to rest with Mack and Jacob in their family lot near the old farm beside the wheat fields. Jordy presided over the small service and a picnic was served in the small greenhouse near the pond. The small dock on the pond looked over the rye grass field where her parents had been married years before. The circle was now complete.
Everything had changed, in some ways just as they would have anyway. In others, as no one could have foretold. The peeling paper curl of her life had in fact pulled loose to release the whole sheet, revealing a blank slate beneath. Maggie’s heart was heavy at the means, but she was freed.
Climbing the access to cross the Mississippi back to Illinois, Maggie’s mind whirred with ten thousand thoughts, each more liberating than the last. The canvas was bare, framed and mounted, but bare. Every dream, goal and plan came slamming back to mind as she considered the life she would paint, and the colors she would choose. She discarded none, but as she mentally shuffled the paint chips, the one at the top stayed put, candy apple red lacquer, just like a suit she planned to own sooner than later. The thought made her smile, as did the sign as she came down the far side of the bridge...
Welcome to Illinois...Land of Lincoln.
‘Sweet Home Chicago...’
With several hours to go, Maggie thought back as she drove. The last several weeks had been a flurry of activity amid the late surge of winter and first hints at an early spring. The groundhog had missed his shadow mere days after her mother’s crash and for a change had been right, or so it seemed.
With the help of her Uncle Joseph, Maggie had prevailed over the others, and succeeded in her agenda to stay in Chicago. The insurance company, flooded with eyewitness accounts, had relinquished a check for the old Ford and a more practical Taurus had taken the vacant parking stall. It wasn’t a fancy ride, but it was more reliable, and certainly newer. It would be better on fuel and safer, that made the deal.
April fools was approaching fast and for a change Maggie was looking forward to it. They had scoured the paper and seen dozens of lofts, apartments and duplexes in or near the city before finding one that would work. Joseph had negotiated a four week notice to vacate the old apartment given the circumstances and helped with the deposit on the new place she would call home.
All the old furnishings were being sold, thrifted or left behind, save the few pieces that didn’t hurt to keep for the memories they held. Maggie’s new loft would be sparse, but sufficient. Her bed and bookcase, the café set from the kitchen alcove, and great-grandma Mason’s wingback chairs were the only furniture pieces she would keep. The latter would be getting a facelift with new fabric as soon as they were moved. Everything else she was letting go of, including the bed where she and Jacob had both been born. Some things just cut too deep.
Joseph’s wife Katharine was a thrift store magician. She helped find one with quality items that would work on barter. Credit for the donations she was making changed quickly into a black woodcrafts entertainment center, a new dresser, a three piece sleeper sectional in a muted grey, and a set of bright red dishes that came in while they were there, still new in the box, but missing a cup and saucer. The blue on white Corel from the farm would not be coming along now either.
The three of them had spent several days cleaning and boxing the old apartment, preparing for the change before the trek to Iowa. There were several stacks of boxes cluttering the small living room, each marked with where it was to go. The things that were staying behind for the landlord to use had all been moved into her mother’s bedroom before the door had been closed.
The thrift shop would be picking up most of the furniture pieces as well as dishes, knick knacks, books, clothes and the miscellaneous things March thirty-first, and deliver the exchanges to the new loft two days later. Everything was planned and ready. Maggie’d flipped between ready and melancholy, but landed on ready more often than not.
Sixty miles or so out, Maggie took a deep breath and let it go waiting for her turn at the toll plaza on I-90. She took another as she watched the first robin of the season perch on the control arm in front of her and be startled away when it lifted. Just beyond, the highway added lanes and the Chicago traffic would begin to filter in with each mile marker. The asphalt jungle yawned before her and her heart kicked up a beat.
‘Thrift shop...’
The heavy knock on the door was loud, and early. Stumbling through the piles to the door, she nearly pulled it open without checking in her excitement. Her father shouted in her mind before she could follow through and she stopped to check the peep hole abruptly. The man from the thrift store stood opposite her position, flanked by two companions through the aperture. The thought ‘brains meet brawn’ skittered across her mind and she stifled a giggle before opening the door.
She was quietly handed a list of what they had agreed to take. She reviewed it, signed off, and gave it back before the items began their journey out and away. It was only a couple quick hours before the room was nearly bare. It might have been faster had it not been for the narrow landing that made the extra-long sofa a tight squeeze.
Turning circles, glancing about at what remained, she nearly toppled over as she noticed a box she thought they had forgotten until she realized what it was. Set back in the corner, well behind the piles that were now gone was a smallish, banged up box. It had been delivered a couple weeks before and stashed out of sight. She had not been able to process it then with its mangled corners and soft mushy side from lying in the snow. Tossed free of the bed at impact, it was the small space heater her mother had gone to buy that had cost so much more than its price tag.
The officer had delivered it along with the other items they had recovered when he brought the police report. The box had been put in the corner while everything else had been handled by Jose
ph. Nothing else had been packed that day as the wounds were fresh all over again.
Staring at the box now, the somber returned to the nearly empty room. The corners echoed each step as she moved to the last evidence of her mother’s final day. She had forgotten it was there. As she looked at it, she debated feverishly what to do with it, landing several emotional rounds later on keeping it. It was her mother’s final act of love and concern to make sure she was warm. It could not be left behind, even if the apartment’s next tenants likely would need one.
That decided, she shifted the remaining boxes to one corner of the room and started mopping walls. She had an hour or so before she needed to be to work, and while her aunts would take care of the lion’s share of the clean up tomorrow, Maggie needed to do something productive today. The place was past empty without the furniture in it.
Having mopped and vacuumed each time things had shifted the past few weeks, the water didn’t even grey as she made her way around the room. It was unsatisfying. She dumped the bucket after only going halfway across the long wall and went to change. A walk or early to work it would be. Anything would be better than the caged in she was feeling staying here.
She walked in to Wenstry’s forty-five minutes early to the shock and relief of the morning clerk, her friend and confidant Jade.
“You weren’t due in until noon.”
“I know. I was going stir crazy.” Maggie twirled her finger near her ear for effect.
“Sorry Mags. I guess it must be hard.”
Maggie shrugged. “No, not really. I closed that book a few weeks back. I just want to be done and move on but I can’t yet, one more day.”
“Do you think you’ll sleep at all tonight?” Jade winked trying to lighten the load and move on.
“I hope. Everyone will be here first thing tomorrow. It might be too much without sleep.”
Jade laughed hard. “Ri-ight. Cuz you’ve never done anything without sleep before. I got some ocean front property down the street too if you’re buying, ‘cuz I’m not.”
Maggie scoffed. “Not the point smarty-pants. Tomorrow will be the first I’ve seen everyone since the funeral. I closed that book, it doesn’t mean they have.”
Jade’s mouth hung open in an unspoken ‘Oh’.
“I guess that makes sense. Let’s see if we can tire you out then. Charlie came back late, loaded for bear. Help me get through the bags.”
Maggie leaned back thinking.
“Okay. I’ll help, but for my great generosity, if Mr. Markley’s bag is in the bunch, it’s yours.”
Jade made several gagging noises and stuck her tongue out before responding. “Okay fine. Consider it my housewarming present.”
They were both laughing as Maggie got out between breaths, “Oh no, you still gotta get me something.”
Noon came and passed quickly. Jade left promptly at one as scheduled without leaving extra work, thanks to Maggie’s early arrival and assistance. True to her word too, she had donned the makeshift hazmat suit and done the bag tagged ‘Markley’.
The added bonus didn’t appear until near the bottom of the last pile around two-thirty in a flat black canvas bag marked ‘Eldeiress’. Finally Maggie thought. It had been weeks. How sweet of her to give me a present for my big move.
Knowing she would want to savor the experience if the bag was anything more than regular clothes, she forced herself to save it for last. It was painful to wait. Her every urge shouted to grab the bag and just have a peek, but she resisted. As she busied herself with the last few bags before her prize she wondered how exactly one went about negotiating the cleaning of such personal items. Then again, Mr. Markley had done the same and she never wondered about that. As she pondered, she thought to herself that Ms. Eldeiress must not be modest if she would send such things out to begin with. That or she was very busy.
Her mind spun wild. Did she have a secret cupboard for such items or were they out on display? Did she have a bat cave like Bruce Wayne, hidden away behind a sliding bookcase with a fireman’s pole too? What about a butler? Maggie dismissed the butler idea or why would Wenstry’s be doing her leathers? So many questions coursed her mind. More questions than answers. She wanted the answers.
Anxious to get to the final bag, she nearly missed the front door chime. A tall, svelte, fairly nondescript man stood at the counter holding a bag.
“Can I help you?” she called as she came through from the sorting area.
“Perhaps so. The laundry was taken before Mistress had finished. Is it too late to add items?”
Maggie shook her head. “No sir. Do you know the name on the account?”
His blank face broke for a moment in a slight smile. “Yes miss, G. Eldeiress.”
BINGO!
Maggie bit her tongue to keep from smiling before responding. “I have just gotten to that bag now, would you like it back?”
He waved a hand. “No-no. If you could just add these to it, Mistress would be grateful.”
As he finished, he handed her a pillowcase that clanked as she set it on the counter. It was everything she could do to hide her excitement.
“Just a moment while I get you a ticket for this bag since it came in separate.”
“Very well.” He didn’t seem to move even his mouth as he spoke.
He stood stock still at the counter waiting. Maggie issued the claim ticket after noting it that it was additional to the one they already had and should be returned together. She handed him the ticket, he nodded and walked out. Curbside a dark sedan waited. The rear window lowered, an arm encased in red leather down to fingerless gloves reached out and patted the man’s head as he dipped down toward the door before it was withdrawn. He looked content as a praised puppy as he turned and got into the front seat before the car lurched forward and pulled away.
Maggie bubbled up with laughter thinking he might have piddled on the sidewalk he’d been so happy as he turned. Excitedly she began talking to the empty room.
“That was her! I almost saw her. What was the head pat? Ho-ly crap on a cracker she was here.”
She absently remembered the bags then and took several deep breaths to regain her composure. Long past Candid Camera fears, she laughed at herself a little for thinking this must be the feeling mama talked about from seeing the Beatles ages ago. She shook her head on an out loud ‘Wow’ and headed for the bags on the sorting counter.
Amid the odds and ends were items she had seen before. A few new ones were included but nothing shocking. It seemed that her glimpse of an arm was to be the big event of the day.
‘Never alone...’
Maggie slept a restless final sleep in the old apartment. The morning came slowly but once arrived, came all at once, complete with family. Her uncles began taking apart the bed and loading items as her aunts ushered her out the door to go claim keys and begin at the loft.
Though the loft space had been cleaned, it was going to get a Mason-style scouring before the men arrived with her things. The five women were through the main space and divided between the kitchen area and bath when the truck pulled up out front; perfect timing, as planned. Joseph walked in and announced, “Time to switch.”
The men unloaded after the women left to do one last clean of the old apartment and make sure nothing had been missed. Nothing had. Maggie took one last solo moment before turning over the keys and collecting the deposit from the manager. This piece was over; all she could think was, almost done.
The ten of them headed to Bubba Gump’s on the pier for an early dinner before saying their goodbyes. Maggie had been asked by each if she wanted help or company, she only wanted quiet and politely declined.
Not yet twenty-one, she couldn’t exactly grab anything to toast her new beginning, so she settled for a Vernors and grabbed a paper from the corner market before she headed for home. Home and starting the future she longed for. Finally.
The building was quiet as she entered, a good sign. Because the thrift would not deliver her other fu
rnishings until tomorrow, her steps had a strange shuffing sound as she walked into the mostly empty space across the dark grey carpet. It was the calm before the storm.
Everything was stacked fairly neatly around the perimeter for the most part leaving the area open. A makeshift wall of three plain wardrobes set off an area for the bed and doubled as closets. Only the prep island with the stove in it, and the short wall that divided off the bathroom from the kitchen and bed area, broke the open space otherwise.
Several things grabbed her attention. Floor length, heavy drapes had been hung over the slider to the small balcony. They were a lighter grey but obviously insulated as the late afternoon light was dim through them. The café table had two red placemats on it set in front of each chair and a set of black candle holders. She knew she did not own these.
A large bag from Bon Ton was just inside the door, stashed under the island on the non-kitchen side. Inside, she found several throw pillows in blacks and reds, a cable-knit throw blanket in matching colors, and several yards of charcoal on grey print fabric with furniture tacks. She remembered mentioning recovering the wingbacks to Katharine, but it had only been in passing. She smiled and shook her head, making a mental note to get thank you cards sent out. Walking around the small island, she noticed a short curtain had been hung above the sink in a bright red shade that she knew without looking would match the pillows and throw she’d put back in the bag on the other side.
