by Bob Bickford
I glanced at her gratefully. After my father’s death, I felt less than secure about an elderly person staying on the island, so far from help in an emergency.
“Absolutely,” she went on. “We’re about a three hour drive north from the city, so a short visit would be silly. Long way to the airport. If you can manage the time, why not come for a few days or even a week or two? It’s beautiful in the summer. Actually, it’s beautiful all year. We’ll see you soon...I can’t wait.”
She gave me back the phone.
“I think I’m too old to try Canada in the winter,” he said, “but summer sounds good. Real good. I’ll call you in a few days maybe, does that sound okay?”
“I need to give you Molly’s home number. I have really spotty cell service on the island. There aren’t many towers around. I usually have to go out to the very end of my dock to get a signal. If I’m at home, you’ll mostly get a ‘customer not available’ message if you call me.”
“You don’t have a regular phone?”
“I have an underwater cable out to the island for electricity, and they could run a phone line the same way, but the expense is unbelievable. More cell towers will come our way one of these years, and I’ve just gotten used to it.”
“I’ve been at the beck and call of telephones and pagers for the last fifty years or so,” he said. “That sounds just about perfect to me. Sign me up, and I’ll be in no hurry to get back here. We’ll do this soon.”
We swapped some information and hung up. Molly and I walked over the lawns up to the marina building. Bill was coming down the steps. He spotted us and smiled broadly. Molly ran to hug him. She turned to me when I caught up.
“Okay, you have to wait here. I’m so excited, I really am.” She turned back to Bill. “Is Diane here?”
“She’s upstairs, waiting for you,” he said. “You gonna get Mike’s surprise?”
“You bet!” she called over her shoulder.
The marina owner looked at me from the corner of his eye as Molly ran inside. He seemed to be suppressing a smile.
“How was your trip?” he asked. “Considering the sad occasion, of course.”
“Glad to be back, Bill. Why are you looking at me funny?”
His smile widened. “I’m not,” he said. “I’ve been taking care of your surprise for the last week. I’m so happy you’re here to take it home with you.”
“Oh, shit. What is it? Tell me.”
“Nope. That would spoil the surprise.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, spoiling what Molly’s got all planned for you. I will say, it couldn’t be happening to a nicer guy.”
We stood together and watched the door, waiting for Molly to reappear. The marina was in full summer swing, and people went in and out constantly. The main building had been converted from a large old frame house. The white clapboard and black shuttered building set in the pines lent the operation a country club feel. Green grass sloped down to the docks and covered slips on the water. The whole thing was nestled into the forest, and the outbuildings and parking areas were hidden in the trees.
The marina had a gas pump at the docks, and a small store and snack bar in the main building. For city people who came to live on the water during the summer months, it was a place to gather when the isolation of their properties became oppressive. It was a civilization fix, and people did their errands, real or invented, and then lingered to socialize or simply to sit on the grass and watch other people.
“Little bit of bad news, while we wait,” Bill said. “Her husband’s back. He’s staying at her house.”
I was flooded with anger. “Again?” I asked. “What the fuck is with this guy? Is he ever going to leave her alone?”
“I don’t know if she wants him to leave her alone, Mike,” he said softly.
“Meaning what, Bill? That she’s an idiot? The guy’s a piece of shit, a coke head. He feeds off her, that’s all he’s good for. He doesn’t love her.”
“We don’t know that,” Bill said mildly. “Anyway, you and I don’t have to like him even if she does. Don’t tell me you’ve never made a fool of yourself over love.”
I was doing that now, I thought bitterly, but didn’t say it.
“Do us all a favor,” he continued, “ask her to marry you. Quit messing around. You know you want to, and you know you should.”
“Should I? She’s never shown me the first clue about what she thinks about me.”
“I think everyone else in the world sees what you two don’t see about yourselves. It’s a damn shame you aren’t together. Listen, do me a favor. Diane’s not going to tell her that he’s back until after she gives you this thing she got--doesn’t want to wreck the moment. This girl’s been over the moon about what she’s giving you. Don’t you spoil it for her neither.”
On cue, the marina door banged open. People using the walkway stood aside and then stayed to watch as Molly was pulled out by a very large white animal on a leash. It took me a moment to identify it as a dog. It appeared to be several hundred pounds of hair led by a huge black nose. They bounded down the wooden steps until they reached us, and I watched the muscles in Molly’s legs flex and tighten as she hauled them to a stop.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” she beamed.
“Yours, Molly?” I asked stupidly.
“No, he’s yours.” She laughed. “You need a dog, on that island by yourself. He’s going to be perfect for you.”
My last dog was buried in the blueberry patch at the eastern end of my island. I still missed the tough, muscular, boxer every day.
This dog seemed, in contrast, to be a complete buffoon. His eyes were obscured by long hair, and I bent and brushed it back to look at him. He extended one large front paw, and when I took it, he put the other one up. I found myself bent at the waist, both front paws in my hands, while the dog balanced on his hindquarters.
“Isn’t that cute?” Molly asked. “I’ve never seen a dog give both paws at once, have you?”
I released him, and he promptly fell over onto his side. He lay on the ground, one eye visible from under a wing of hair, and looked at me, betrayed. Molly crouched over him and made soothing noises, and the dog stretched himself out across the sidewalk. I glanced at Bill from the corner of my eye. He raised an eyebrow and gave me a sardonic thumbs-up.
“He’s beautiful, Molly. He really is. Does he have a name?”
“The guy who sold him to me called him Fabian. I hate it. I named him Blue, if that’s okay with you.”
“Fine. Why Blue?”
“I always wanted a dog named Blue,” she said. “He’s the first one that came along that I got to name, so there you have it. The guy said he’s crazy about cooked carrots. He won’t eat them for me, though.”
“He eats about damn anything else,” Bill said. “I never saw a dog eat like this one.”
“What kind of dog is this?” I asked.
“Old English Sheepdog,” she said to me and then turned to Bill. “I can’t tell if he’s fat under all the hair. Do you think he is?”
“That’s like asking me if an elephant’s fat,” he said. “Maybe it is, but I couldn’t tell you without comparing it to another elephant, and we don’t have any more of these dogs for me to look at. No point in comparing it to another dog, I don’t think.”
We laughed.
“You hush. You’ll hurt his feelings,” Molly said, and looked at me. “They’re usually gray with white heads and feet. All white is really unusual. Since our last baby was a white boxer, I knew it was meant to be. Another white dog.”
“Where did you find him?”
“In an ad. I picked him up in Kingston. He was losing his home in a divorce, weren’t you, baby? But you’re home now.”
The dog hadn’t moved. He stretched out on his side, content to block the sidewalk, oblivious to the people stepping over him. Bill gazed at him and shook his head.
“Better you than me,” he murmured. “Much better.”
Bill’s wife, D
iane, appeared at the top of the steps, holding out a phone. She brought it down to Molly, who took it, answered, and then turned her back to us.
“I’m sorry. I was on the phone...” I heard her say as she moved away.
“Hi, Diane,” I said. “You’ve been babysitting this mutt?”
She pushed her glasses up her nose. In contrast to Bill’s wry humor and general calm, Diane was perpetually harried.
A snowstorm of paperwork always enveloped her desk at the marina. She was an extraordinarily bad cook who was always ready to serve me seconds. She and Bill had been together for a long time. I loved them both.
“Yes, it was like old times, having a dog of yours in the house, although I guess you didn’t know he was your dog--or did she tell you?”
“No, she kept it a surprise ’til now.”
“Are you surprised?” Bill asked, laughing.
“Oh, for sure,” I said. “Really surprised. I hope I can get him in the boat. He doesn’t seem to move.”
“Wave some food at him. He’ll move faster than you can believe.”
Bill spoke to Diane. His voice was low. “Does she know?” he asked.
“She does now.” Diane nodded in Molly’s direction. “That’s him now, hot under the collar, looking for her here because she doesn’t pick up her cell phone. Arrogant man.”
Molly came back and returned the phone to Diane.
“I have to go, sorry. I’m getting picked up. Ride should be here in a minute,” she told me.
I felt my face fall and struggled not to reveal it. Molly’s house was a short distance up the shore road from the marina. A quick pick up was definitely going to be Joseph.
She smiled at me. “Are you okay with this? Maybe I should have asked you first?”
“Okay with...the dog? No, it’s a terrific gift,” I said. “I’m glad to have the company.”
I reached down and scratched him behind his ear. He didn’t respond. Molly waved to Bill and Diane and I walked her toward the road and her ride. I could never compete with Joseph’s looks or his charm, but maybe Bill was right. Maybe it was time to move on from my past and gamble on my future.
“Can I ask you something?” I blurted. “What gives with this guy? Are you punishing yourself? You’re punishing me with it...this is hard to watch. You know how I feel about you.”
“Joseph?” she asked, surprised. “He’s my husband, Mike. You forget that. What am I supposed to do?”
“Ex-husband,” I corrected.
“He’s having a problem. He needs me. What am I supposed to do? Turn my back on him?”
“It isn’t normal to drop your whole life when an ex-partner calls.”
She stopped walking and turned toward me. She was clearly shocked. “Really? Really, Mike?” Her face flushed, and her hands were clenched by her sides. Her voice was savage, and rising. “It isn’t, Mike? Really? Why don’t you fuck your ex-wife and tell me about it? Why don’t you do that, and expect me to understand?” She was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. “Why don’t you just wallow in what you fucking need, and when you finish fucking Angela, you and I can have a nice girl-to-girl talk about how bad it makes you feel? Who fucking does that, Mike?”
Behind her, a silver convertible nosed into the lot and stopped fifty yards from us. I saw Joseph behind the wheel, in sunglasses, his hair artfully tousled. He looked good. When I was tousled, I looked like I needed a shower.
“What kind of a man does that? Tells a woman something like that? Did you think I’d admire your fucking honesty?”
Joseph tapped on the horn, and she turned slightly to wave at him. When she turned back, I could see she was crying.
“Molly--”
“Shut up. And I see you and Bill talking. I know what you’re talking about. You know what? Maybe Joseph didn’t drop in. Maybe I called him. Maybe I called him after I had flown thousands of miles to have my best friend tell me who he fucked and how it made him feel.”
She turned and started to walk away, looking at me over her shoulder. “Maybe with this one, at least I know what I get. Maybe that’s as good as I’m going to do.” Her voice broke. “Take your ghosts, and your feelings, your ego, and your fucking...tragedy and bother someone else with them.”
“Molly, wait. My ego?”
“Stay away from me,” she called. “I’ll sell my house and move away if you don’t, if that’s what I have to do. Leave me alone.”
She crossed in front of the car and got in.
“Nice car, Joe!” I hollered. “Life is good when someone else pays your way!”
The silver car reversed and then sprayed gravel as it left. I looked after them for a minute then turned back to the marina. Bill was waiting for me. Diane had gone back inside. My face was burning. I cut across the grass to avoid him.
“I pulled your boat out and filled it,” he called. “It’s down by the pumps, save you a step.”
I kept walking and didn’t answer.
“You’re forgetting your dog,” he yelled after me.
I stopped, shook my head, and started back. The dog was still sprawled across the sidewalk.
“Man’s best friend,” Bill said. “Good to have at times like these.”
CHAPTER 27
Sam and Jenny Latta,
West Berlin, Germany, Saturday, May 25, 1957
An orchestra played “Les Fueilles mortes.” She smelled like flowers really did smell, of earth and sun and water with the barest sweet overlay. Her neck and shoulders were delicate, but when she leaned into him she was as heavy and warm as the world’s foundation. They felt eternal, moving through the dark and the music, floating here and there on the drafts of burning candles.
The music changed. She took his hand and led him to the balcony. The ruined city spread beneath them in pools of light as far as they could see. He pulled out his package of cigarettes and offered it to her.
“I have my own,” she said. She took one out and he lit it. She looked into his eyes over the flame.
“I won’t leave without you,” he said. “You know that.”
“I was never going to let you,” she answered.
The light from inside caught her hair and her eyes. He couldn’t read her expression. As she turned away from him, he caught her fragrance again.
“Are we forever?’ he asked.
She didn’t answer. Below them a car pulled up and stopped at the porte-cochere. The driver came around and opened the door for a woman. She was dressed to the ankles in black and sparkled as she walked. Before she entered the building she stopped to check her clutch and then looked up at them on the balcony, as if in some feral way she was aware of their beauty. She shook them off and went inside.
“Are you going to answer me?”
Her elbows were on the marble balustrade. She thumbed her hair behind her ear and smiled coolly to herself before she glanced at him. She held the smile. Her blue eyes were purpled by the night-time. She was perfectly contained.
“Do you know what makes me sad?” she asked. “Being at the beach and seeing a wave come in. It rolls and breaks, and then it slides back and it’s gone. It comes and goes so fast, and it’ll never happen just exactly like that ever again. It was unique, and it won’t come back. Ever again.” She finished her cigarette and flicked it over the railing. It sparked on the drive beneath them and winked out. “Then I think--I’m wrong. Years and years from now, someone else will look at them and be sad, someone who will never know that I was even here.”
Her bracelets glinted when she put her hand over his and turned it over to hold onto it. He was surprised by the vulnerability of her gesture.
Her voice softened. “The waves aren’t brief at all. I am.”
She looked back at the city. He thought he saw her brush away a tear, but the movement was so casual that he couldn’t be sure.
“I’m not going to be here forever,” she said, “so don’t ever ask me that again.”
He turned her to him and kissed
her, and it had to be enough.
***
Present Day:
That evening, I stood on my front veranda as the night came. I hesitated, then flipped the switch to turn my dock light on. Molly’s house was on shore a mile and a half away from the island, across open water. As long as we had both lived on the lake, our dock lights were always left on, visible to each other in the dark. I’m home, and everything’s okay. I’m here. Tonight there was no light on her side.
I went in. The dog had settled willingly enough in the main room, and I looked in on him. He was asleep on the couch. His day had probably been nearly as long as mine. He worried me. The boxer had jumped easily from the boat to shore, or to the dock. She had flung herself where she needed to. If she missed, she had enjoyed the swim. She had been able to neatly jump to and from the high seat in my elderly Jeep. She had gone nearly everywhere with me. This dog was different.
Huge and awkward, he had been coaxed into my boat with great difficulty. Once underway, he cowered on the deck and lost his footing several times on the trip across the lake.
I figured getting him into and out of my truck was going to be a nightmare. I looked down at him and ruffled the long hair on his neck.
“Poor guy,” I said. “We’ll figure it out, I guess.”
I lay on my bed and thought about Molly, just a mile away. I didn’t suppose she was sleeping alone. Eventually, the windows began to fill up with gray light. I could hear a couple of crows fighting over their breakfast as I closed my eyes and slept.
***
May was creeping toward June beautifully. The morning air coming through the screen was cool, and I could smell the lake. I saw Blue in the clearing in front of the cabin. He was sitting quietly, head up, observing his new territory. It was a sheepdog thing. He needed to be at the top of a meadow, sitting still and observing a flock of sheep. Maybe I should get him some.
