by Geeta Kakade
Margaret watched the crowd swirl and separate as a live band supplied music. She sat with Pete, Susan and another couple, at a table on the edge of the dance floor, noticing the costumes and the elaborate hairdo's that went with them.
Margaret searched the dancers for a tall figure in a carmine cloak. She had shared the first dance with Matt, not really sure why he had asked her to dance. Other than hold her close, he hadn't talked to her at all. Matt probably felt it was a token gesture his sisters would expect of him. Convention satisfied, he had disappeared.
Patricia had introduced her to a stream of people, and mentioned that Margaret taught seriously handicapped children. To Margaret's surprise quite a few people were interested in learning more about the Edward Institute. Margaret had patiently answered questions, danced with a film producer, a musician, and a man who told her he could buy the Empire State building if it was for sale. She had received compliments on her dress, her face, her figure, and two invitations to leave the party with men she had barely talked to for five minutes. Margaret had finally escaped from everyone, saying her feet hurt. She felt like the ice sculpture gracing the center of the buffet. One part lost, two parts melting.
She was surprised when Susan said, "Whenever we come to these occasions we tell ourselves never again, but it's hard on Trish if we're not here to support her. As it is she does most of the work. As for Matt, it's nothing short of a miracle that he's here today."
The remark surprised Margaret. She had thought Matt would take occasions like this in his stride.
"He hates what he calls the emptiness of it all, says people come just to show off their latest clothes and jewelry, pull everyone they know to pieces and then go home discontented because someone had on something more expensive than them."
Matt approached the table a little later. "Would you like to dance?" he asked Margaret.
She shook her head quickly. She wasn't going to be his duty. "My feet hurt in these new shoes."
"Mind if I sit with you?"
"Of course not."
Margaret told herself not to waste time wondering why Matt chose to sit with her when he could be dancing with one of the stream of gorgeous women present. She turned away to reply to something Pete said, trying to focus on what he was saying. Matt's closeness had her heart beating so loudly she could barely hear Pete.
Matt had watched Margaret dance with some of the guests, seen the polite mask she had donned with them, the keep-your-distance look. She may have been impressed by the house in Malibu, but she wasn't impressed by any of the people here tonight. He had seen her excuse herself from a group when one of the men, a young producer, had started boasting about how much money he had spent on his last motion picture. Her dignity had impressed him as nothing else could when another man has placed an arm around her shoulders. Politely but firmly she had moved away from his side. If she was bored, or felt out of place, she didn't show it.
Matt looked around and decided he'd had enough. Bending he whispered in Margaret's ear, "Would you like to leave now?"
Margaret turned to him in surprise, "Won't Patricia think it odd if we slip away?"
"She'll understand."
When the limousine pulled up in front of Trish's place, Matt turned to Margaret. "Margaret, we have to talk."
Margaret looked at Matt and shook her head. "Not now, Matt. I'm very tired." Her voice held one part sadness, two parts firmness.
The evening had been more of a strain than she had imagined. She felt like a runner completing a marathon, who realizes there is nothing left to train for. Empty.
Whether or not she had proved anything to Matt was immaterial. Nothing could bridge the gap between his world and hers.
She didn't want to talk to Matt in this mood because, if she did, desperation might make her beg him to hold her and make love to her. Right now she didn't care if it was just for one night...at least she would have that to remember.
He hesitated a moment and then said, "Goodnight, Margaret."
“‘Night Matt."
It wasn't going to be a good night, simply a rerun of the last few where her mind spun around searching for answers and came up blank.
The two and a half hour drive back to Inchwater the next morning was strangely quiet. Matt seemed preoccupied with his thoughts and Margaret considered how best she could get on with her life. Nothing she had done or said had made a difference to Matt and she had to admit defeat. The sooner she got used to the fact there was no future for them together, the better.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Margaret and Aunt Jan's trip to Yosemite turned out pleasant, but uneventful. Margaret walked among the redwoods every day, missing Matt more than ever, going over and over in her mind everything that had happened since she had first met him.
Though she had decided to resign herself to the fact Matt didn't love her, a part of her refused to give up. The happy, refreshed look on Aunt Jan's face made Margaret feel the vacation was worthwhile, but she wanted to be back in Inchwater with Matt.
The four hour drive back in the car Margaret had rented for their vacation seemed to take forever. When they pulled up in front of the restaurant Margaret took the key out of the ignition and turned to Aunt Jan, "I'll be back in a little while. I want to see Mikki and Gina."
It would help pass the time. Margaret planned to stop by the truck stop later, when there weren't so many people around and talk to Matt.
"Aren't you tired?" asked Aunt Jan surprised.
Margaret shook her head, "Not really. I'll be back soon."
Gina loved the silk scarf Margaret had brought her back. She kept touching the soft fabric and saying, "It’s beautiful. I'll always treasure it."
Margaret busy noticing the changes in her goddaughter said, "I'm glad you like it. How's Jack?"
Gina looked much happier. "Everything's fine between us again. Matt insisted on Jack telling him what was wrong. Jack said becoming a father had made him feel he should provide his daughter with the best of everything, that's why he was working the long hours. Matt told him it was important for Jack to discuss how he felt with me."
"And..." prompted Margaret.
"I mentioned what Jack said to Dr. Reddy and he said it wasn't uncommon for a first-time parent to feel that way. He talked to Jack and me and explained that while some new fathers reacted like Jack did, others simply disappeared because they couldn't handle the responsibility. He said we should talk to each other often and see a counselor if we needed any more help."
"And...?" prompted Margaret.
"It took a bit of talking to convince Jack that Mikki won't care if she is dressed in designer clothes or not. It's more important for her to have her father around while she's growing up. We've made out a budget, and if it doesn't work I'll work part time at the restaurant."
Relieved at the way things had turned out, Margaret said, "There isn't really any happily ever after is there? It's just the way a couple deals with the situations around them that make a difference to the quality of life."
"That, and remembering to keep the romance alive," said Gina. "Matt reminded Jack it doesn't cost a thing to say, "I love you", and yet some people never think to say those words."
Recalling her argument with Matt in the garden, Margaret smiled. He must have agreed with what she’d said to repeat it to Jack.
Taking Mikki from Margaret, Gina placed the baby on a brightly colored exercise mat on the floor. "Will you have dinner with us tonight? Now that Jack is on the Los Angeles run, he's back by five every evening. Since Matt left we haven't had anyone over, except Timmy. That boy looks so happy these days."
"Matt has left?" Margaret couldn't hide the dismay in her voice.
Gina turned from the stove. "Men! Didn't he tell you he was leaving?"
The slow burn of anger inside Margaret fanned itself into a flame. So, this was what tough men like Matthew Magnum did when the going got tough? They ran away. It was very easy for him to sort out everyone else's problems, while hi
s own remained in cold storage forever. Well, he wasn't going to get away with that.
"What time does Jack leave for L.A. in the mornings?" asked Margaret. She didn't know when the decision to go after Matt, tell him how she felt, had materialized. She just knew it was there now, and she had to do something about it. She had been mistaken to think nothing could bridge the gap between Matt's world and hers. Love would bridge any gap if it was given a chance.
"Seven," Gina said. "Why?"
"Tell him I'm going with him tomorrow. I can't stay now, Gina. I have a few things to do at home."
Like plan how I'm going to tell Matthew Magnum off, Margaret thought, slapping an oatmeal pack on her face a few minutes later.
And she was going to look absolutely beautiful doing it too. Breaking four eggs into a bowl, she added vinegar to the mixture, and then began to massage the sticky concoction through her hair. With her hair in a shower cap, Margaret pulled everything out of her closet. Old-fashioned, was she? Not so old-fashioned to take his decision lying down. She would show Matthew Magnum.
Timmy came to the door a while later, took one look at the clothes piled on the bed, and quietly went to his room. He didn't think Margaret would want to go into Garrison and watch a movie with him tonight. She had something on her mind.
Jack followed Gina's gaze to the figure that approached. In a white suit and high heels, Margaret looked like she had just stepped off the cover of the magazine his wife loved reading.
"God help the man. Margaret's got her war paint on."
Something about the immense satisfaction in his wife's voice made Jack look at Gina closely, "Anything going on that I should know about? I don't want to get into any trouble with Mr. Magnum."
Gina reached up and planted a smacking kiss on her husband's mouth. "Don't worry. You aren't the man trouble is headed for," she reassured him with a chuckle. "Just make sure Margaret gets to L.A. in one piece."
Nodding, Jack turned away to climb into the truck. He heard Gina say something to Margaret with a laugh. All the talk about war paint made Jack nervous. A man had no defense against a determined woman, and Mr. Magnum had been very nice to him. Was he letting a hornet's nest loose around the boss' head by agreeing to take Margaret to L.A.?
Jack stared at Margaret as she got into the truck. He had never seen her look more beautiful, or more distant. Grabbing a towel, he wiped the passenger seat as he said, "Good morning, Margaret."
"How are you, Jack?" Margaret asked sweetly from under the brim of her hat. "Will you please drop me off at Mr. Magnum's headquarters in L.A.? I have some unfinished business to settle with him."
Jack nodded, "Yes ma'am."
He just hoped Mr. Magnum remembered the advice he'd handed out a few days ago. I love you, were three little words that could make a big difference.
Gina stood with Mikki in her arms, waving them off, a huge smile on her face.
Margaret turned to Jack. Now that they were actually on their way, she felt some of her courage slip. Chasing after Matt did not seem such a good idea at all. She twisted the shoulder strap of her bag.
Jack may not have been married all that long, but he could tell when Margaret's mood switched from confident to nervous. Leaning forward, he switched on the CB radio. A little conversation might distract her.
Margaret listened to the voices over the air till she heard a familiar one. "This is Lone Wolf, heading for Los Angeles. Anyone know if it's still there?"
"Lone Wolf, this is Waltzing Matilda. I'm heading for L.A. too. What do you mean, is it still there, moite?" A voice with an unmistakable Australian twang asked.
"Well, Waltzing Matilda, you know everyone's expecting the big earthquake to hit L.A. any day," said Lone Wolf. "Asking if it's still there is just my little joke."
Jack picked up the CB hand piece. "Lone Wolf, this is Proud Papa. I was in L.A. yesterday. It's still there."
"Proud Papa, how's your baby doing?" Lone Wolf asked.
"Great," said Jack. "As a matter of fact, I have Mikki's godmother with me today."
"Why don't you let her talk to us, Proud Papa?"
Jack handed her the hand piece. Margaret swallowed. "This is Rose Red. Good morning everybody."
"Rose Red, this is Lone Wolf. Did you find the cove all right the other day?"
"We did, thank you. It’s a beautiful spot, Lone Wolf."
The memory of Matt leaning over her, of her own response, made Margaret's pulses quicken.
"Where's that man of yours? What was his call name now? Bedouin Two?"
"He's in Los Angeles," said Margaret.
"Ah, going to visit him are you?" Lone Wolf asked.
Margaret swallowed, "Not exactly."
"Rose Red, this is Waltzing Matilda. Did you just mention Bedouin Two?"
"Yes," said Margaret.
"Well, I picked up his call sign a little while ago. He was talking to another driver named Grizzly Bear."
Margaret stared at Jack. Where was Matt heading?
Jack took the hand piece from her and said, "Waltzing Matilda, this is Proud Papa. Are you sure?"
"Sure as there's hair on my chest," came the quick reply.
He was going away on one of those long trips he liked taking. Margaret realized she wouldn't be able to talk to him after all. Unless, she did so right now. Margaret turned to Jack. "Jack, do you think we might be able to reach him on the CB?"
"I'll try,” Jack said. "Bedouin Two, are you out there? Come in Bedouin Two. This is Proud Papa."
Jack repeated the call at five minute intervals. On his third try, the CB crackled in response. "Proud Papa, come in. This is Bedouin Two.
Jack handed Margaret the hand piece. Taking it from him she said quickly. "Matt, this is Margaret."
There were a few moments of absolute silence, and then Matt said, "Margaret, what are you doing in Jack's rig?"
"I was coming to Los Angeles to see you."
"Why, Margaret?"
Margaret swallowed and looked at the hand piece in dismay. Since yesterday, she had imagined so many different scenes with Matt. In his office, in his car, in his home. None had included talking to him over the CB in this manner.
"Margaret, are you there?" Matt asked.
"I'm here, Matt. I had to see you. There's something I have to say to you in person."
"What is it, Margaret?"
His voice was fading. Panicked Margaret wondered if he was getting out of range. Out of her life. Quickly she said, "Matt, will you marry me?"
Beside her, Jack jumped. There was pin drop silence on the air, and Margaret felt her cheeks burn as Matt didn't answer. If there was one thing worse than making a fool of oneself in private, it was doing so in public. What had Matt said about the CB? That there could be as many as a hundred people listening in to a frequency, at one time?
"Maybelline calling Star Gazer. Star Gazer, are you listening in?" A woman's voice cut into the air.
"Maybelline, this is Lone Wolf. If you value that perfumed hide of yours, you'll stay off the air. The lady is in the middle of a proposal."
There was a second's silence again, and then Maybelline said, "A proposal? She isn't proposing to you, is she Lone Wolf? Now, that would be a reason to cut in. Save one of my kind from a fate worse than death." A shrill laugh followed the statement.
"Enough," yelled Waltzing Matilda. "Anyone speak out of turn, and they'll have to reckon with me at the next truck stop. Go ahead, Rose Red."
Margaret swallowed hard and said, "Matt, listen to me. It doesn't matter if you choose to drive a truck or move to Beverly Hills. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter what."
"What more could a man ask for?" Waltzing Matilda asked aloud.
"Shut up, Waltzing Matilda," Maybelline said. "If you don't stick to your own rules, you'll have to answer to me at the next stop."
"Yeah, keep out of this," said Lone Wolf. "Anyone can see, they need privacy."
Jack jerked a thumb out of the window, and Marga
ret looked out of hers and swallowed hard. There was a line of trucks behind them, and in the next lane, staying as close together as they could. Privacy was impossible. Everyone apparently wanted a ring side seat for the show.
"Margaret, where did you think I was going?" Matt asked.
"I thought you were headed off on one of your long trips," Margaret said.
"I am on my way back to you, Margaret to make another attempt to get you to listen to me."
"You are? Why did you leave in the first place?"
"Yeah, why did you, moite?" Waltzing Matilda chimed in.
Matt ignored Waltzing Matilda's comment. "Margaret, I know marriage doesn't come with any warranty, that all it does is give a couple a base to build the rest of their lives on. I was going to tell you the night of the ball that I loved and trusted you, that I'd been all kinds of a fool, but you wouldn't talk to me. Then later I thought maybe you had changed your mind about me. I realized you didn't like some of the people you met, and I thought you might have decided you didn't want anything more to do with me. But as soon as I was in L.A. I realized I would be the biggest fool if I let you go without making it clear how I felt about you. If you'll have me, I'll do my best to make all your dreams come true. I love you."
Margaret blinked to hold the sudden tears back as a loud cheer came over the CB.
"Way to go, moite!"
"Rose Red, he's a good man." Lone Wolf said.
"This is all so romantic," sniffed Maybelline.
"Jack, the next rest area is half a mile away," Matt instructed. "Pull up there. I'm right behind you. Ever since I've known Margaret, she's shown a very poor sense of timing."
"Anyone else stop there beside the two love birds, and I'll knock their blocks off," Waltzing Matilda threatened. "Congratulations, you two."
Other listeners chimed in with good wishes as Jack drew into the rest area, a long line of trucks, pulled past, tooting their horns and waving, as Margaret got out of the truck. Five minutes later, Matt drove up.
