High October

by Elena Graf

  Jenny gazed at Maggie with an annoying smile. “Liz had to remind me how her coffee machine works.”

  I bet, thought Maggie.

  “Go sit in the breakfast room, Maggie,” said Liz. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”

  Jenny followed her out. “We’re talking about taking the ferry cruise around Casco Bay, but Liz is worried you can’t manage all the walking with your bad leg.” Jenny glanced at her leg with an exaggerated expression of sympathy.

  “That won’t be a problem,” replied Maggie without hesitation.

  Liz came in, bringing her coffee. “Are you sure, Maggie?” Her little frown of sympathy was genuine. “It’s quite a walk between where we park and the ferry launch.”

  “No, I can do it.”

  Jenny and Liz exchanged a look. Jenny shrugged. “It’s your call, Liz. You’re her doctor.”

  “We could take a drive around Sebago instead,” Liz suggested.

  “No, you’ve been talking about this Casco Bay cruise since I got here. I want to go.”

  ****

  As Liz had predicted, it was a long walk from the parking lot to the boarding line for the ferry. Jenny and Liz held their place on line, while Maggie sat on a bench nearby. She had resisted sitting down as long she could bear it, unwilling to show any weakness in front of Jenny.

  Liz left the line to check on Maggie. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” In fact, her leg hurt from the walking and standing.

  “You don’t look fine. You look pale as death. You know, we don’t have to do this. We can go back. You can rest while I get the car.”

  “I said I’m fine,” insisted Maggie. She glared at Jenny whose look of sympathy was totally inauthentic. I’ll be damned, if I give in to myself in front of you. She shot Jenny a brilliant smile.

  They finally boarded. Liz located the elevator to the top deck and found three seats in a shaded area near the bow. Liz was wedged so tightly between Maggie and Jenny she begged them for some space. “Talk about being in the middle,” she muttered under her breath. Restless, she got up and went forward.

  As Liz leaned over the bow rail to watch the crew ready the ferry for departure, Maggie admired how her legs met her buttocks. Jenny spoke directly into Maggie’s ear, “I agree. She does have nice legs.” The heat instantly rose in Maggie’s cheeks. She imagined the white spots that always peeked out whenever she blushed.

  When the ferry began to move, Liz came back and insinuated herself between them, flexing her shoulders to open up more room for herself. “Everybody happy?” she asked.

  Maggie rolled her eyes.

  The wind and water spray off the bay was refreshing. The boat stopped at an island to off-load passengers and freight. Liz got off to get them old fashioned ice cream “drumsticks” in the little general store.

  “This was a good idea,” said Maggie, chasing the melting ice cream with her tongue as it ran down the cone. “Very relaxing.”

  After they docked, they ate at the best seafood restaurant in the Old Port, a place where piles of whole fish and shellfish lay on mountains of shaved ice, and the tables were covered with newspaper. Liz put away almost a dozen oysters by herself, sharing a few with her companions, and then went on to eat a whole lobster.

  “Liz, remember your metabolism isn’t what it used to be,” Jenny said, watching her.

  “I’m being virtuous. Except for the butter, it’s all protein, and I’m not having any beer.”

  When everyone had finished their meal, Jenny picked up her spoon and gently tapped her water glass. “Your attention, please. Let’s raise a glass to Elizabeth Anne. Happy Birthday, dear friend, and many more.”

  Maggie flamed with embarrassment. “Happy Birthday, Liz. I can’t believe I forgot.”

  Liz shrugged. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to remember, but now have a drink for me since I’m abstaining.”

  Maggie raised her glass and joined the toast.

  Liz hiked back to the parking lot to get the car. Jenny played with her phone while they waited, which suited Maggie, who had nothing to say to her.

  On the way back to Hobbs, Jenny fell asleep in the back seat. Maggie reached out and patted Liz’s thigh. “Thanks for that. It was fun.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, and it wasn’t too much for you.”

  “Oh, I didn’t say that. It was a lot of walking.”

  “But you did very well.”

  “I wasn’t about give in to myself in front of your friend there,” said Maggie, wagging her head in the direction of the back seat.

  Liz chuckled. “I knew that.”

  ***

  Jenny left after breakfast the next morning. After cleaning up the kitchen, Liz came out to the porch and sat down. “I always feel a little guilty being off when the rest of the world is back to work.” She reached for her iPad, but Maggie touched her arm.

  “Before you get started on that, I want to talk to you.”

  Liz flipped the cover closed and crossed her arms on her chest. Now that she had Liz’s attention, Maggie didn’t know how to begin. The closed body language didn’t help.

  “Well? What is it?” Liz prodded. Her frown made her look even more inaccessible.

  “I thought you and Jenny broke up.”

  “We did.”

  “You have a very cozy relationship for people who aren’t together anymore.”

  “We broke up as partners, not friends.”

  “Friends with benefits?”

  Liz let out her breath slowly, obviously making an attempt to be patient. “Occasionally.” The frown deepened into a scowl. “How is this any of your business?”

  “It’s not.”

  Liz studied Maggie’s face for a long moment. “It’s complicated.”

  “I bet.”

  “We were together a long time. Our families and friendships are intertwined. We still own the house in Connecticut together. We got it for a good price. Neither of us could afford to buy it again, even in this down market. That’s why we decided not to sell it when we split up, and I moved up to Maine.”

  “You mean she lives in your house?”

  “It’s our house,” replied Liz with emphasis. “That’s why she wants to sell the land in North Carolina. To use her share from the sale and a mortgage to buy me out.”

  “That’s good.”

  Liz’s shrug seemed like more than indifference to her opinion. “I’m in no hurry for the money. I don’t really need it now.”

  “But selling the property would simplify things between you.”

  “Yes, it would, but that’s less complicated than managing her portfolio, although I think I finally persuaded her that she needs a real financial advisor, not just me, an amateur who gets lucky most of the time.”

  “You manage her investments too?” Maggie’s surprised tone seemed to catch Liz off guard.

  “Yes. As a friend,” she said cautiously. “I don’t charge her for it.”

  Maggie gave Liz a hard look. “I guess you’re not done with her yet.”

  “Oh, I am. It’s just complicated.” Liz returned Maggie’s firm look. “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Liz, did you sleep with her?”

  Liz blushed a little. Maggie turned in her seat so Liz couldn’t read the dismay on her face. “Never mind. I don’t really want to know.” But she did want to know because if Liz was still sleeping with her ex-lover, it was probably time to go home.

  Maggie was reluctant to ask outright, so she kept to herself for most of the day. Liz was evidently doing the same. After lunch, she disappeared into her workshop. Maggie didn’t see her again until dinner time.

  As usual, Liz praised her meal, obviously savoring every last bit of the braised lamb shanks Maggie had prepared.

  “Better than any Fr
ench bistro,” said Liz pushing back from the table with a satisfied smile. “I should hire you as my personal chef.”

  “Then I’d have to live up here.”

  “You could. Winter rentals are really cheap.” So, they had gone from not so subtle hints about moving in to cheap rentals nearby.

  “Yes, I’m sure you’ll need that downstairs room for someone else.” Maggie got up to clear the table. “I wouldn’t want to be in the way.”

  “You’re not in the way.” Liz rose to help her.

  “Oh, I think I was when your friend, Jenny was here.”

  “I’m sorry she was so mean to you. I’ve never seen her behave that way to one of my friends. I have no idea what got into her.”

  “She wasn’t the most pleasant person, but you were the one making me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  Maggie stared at her.

  “I swear nothing happened,” said Liz, raising her hands.

  “Then why the guilty look when I asked you about it? You turned beet red.”

  “You asked if I slept with her, and I did. Jenny couldn’t sleep, so she came upstairs to see if I was still awake. We sat in bed and talked about why she needs a financial advisor. Honestly, money talk bores her. When she fell asleep, I didn’t throw her out. Technically, I did sleep with her, but nothing happened. So, now you know.” Liz continued loading the plates into the dishwasher with more than the usual clatter.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth. But I’m not sure you’re done with Jenny if you let her sleep in your bed.”

  “I’m done with her as a lover, but not as a friend.”

  “No one’s asking you to give up her friendship.”

  “That’s good because we’ve been friends for over twenty years, and I’m not throwing her away because you happened to show up.” Liz turned off the water in the sink. She quickly dried her hands with a dish towel, then angrily flung it on the counter. “I’ll finish later,” she said, heading to the porch.

  Maggie found Liz sitting in the dark and took a seat opposite her. “Liz, I’m not asking you to give up your friendship with Jenny, but I need to know where I stand with you. I’m not getting into a relationship with someone who’s still involved with another woman.”

  “Jenny and I are friends. Our only involvement is financial. And aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves talking about a relationship?”

  “But I thought…”

  “You thought you could waltz back into my life, and I’d want you back. Of course, you did. You’re Maggie Fitzgerald, the star. Everyone wants you. You can’t imagine anyone not wanting you.”

  Maggie cringed. The words landed on her like pointed stones. After a moment to recover, she responded in a coldly theatrical voice, “Apparently, I had the wrong idea. I’m sorry. I’ll make arrangements to fly home tomorrow.”

  As Maggie got up to leave, Liz caught her hand. “No, I’m sorry. And you don’t have the wrong idea.”

  Maggie brushed off her hand. “Good night, Liz. I’m going to bed now.”

  “Maggie, please!” Liz jumped out of her seat and ran after her.

  Maggie hadn’t gotten far, still hobbling on the ridiculous boot. Standing in front of her, Liz’s tall body blocked the light and the path to her room. Maggie felt constricted and anxious.

  “Liz, please let me pass. I need to go to bed.”

  “Please. I’m sorry I said that. Let’s work this out. I’d hate for you to go to bed angry,” Liz pleaded with a worried frown.

  Maggie sighed. “Liz, we still have a long way to go,” she said, gently touching Liz’s cheek. ”Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Chapter 14

  It was chilly in the house when Maggie got up the next morning, the first shocking harbinger of the Maine winter to come. She found a pair of workout pants among the old clothes Liz kept for guests. Wearing pants required balancing on one leg to put them on, so she tried to avoid them, but now that it was getting cooler, she’d need to reconsider. Being Liz’s castoff, the pants were too long, so Maggie rolled them up. She put on the heavy sweatshirt that Liz had given her that first morning after she’d arrived.

  As Maggie hobbled into the kitchen to get her coffee, she felt a waft of warm air coming from the living room. She smiled. Liz had made a fire in the wood stove before she’d left for the office. She was such a good hostess. No wonder her house was full all summer.

  Maggie took her coffee to the living room and despite the pleasant heat from the wood stove, she was still cold. She pulled the Hudson’s Bay blanket over her legs.

  While she drank her coffee, she revisited the argument with Liz. It wasn’t a big, loud quarrel like the kind she used to have with Barry. At one point, she’d moved out of the house, taking an expensive rental in town for exactly one month to get away from him. Her daughters were horrified, and Barry had panicked once he realized that he was now responsible for their care. In the end, they had agreed that the best thing for everyone was for Barry to move out.

  Maggie would be too embarrassed to tell Liz that things had gone so wrong in her marriage. There were early signs. Maggie had felt adrift, even after Barry got her a job doing corporate communications at his company. In the beginning, her feminist instincts to prove herself kept her going, but after a while, the corporate grind wore her down.

  She vividly remembered the night Liz called after having tricked Kevin to get her telephone number. She could tell Liz was slightly intoxicated from the odd cadence of her speech. Maggie knew Barry was listening the whole time. He gave her suspicious looks while she made vague responses and desperately tried to end the call.

  The argument afterwards was loud and stunning. She saw hints of Barry’s temper all along, but he’d kept himself pretty much in check. That night, he shouted and threatened her with his fists. Fortunately, he never laid a hand on her, but he insisted on sex, despite her refusal and easily overpowered her. Now, she knew to call it what it was—marital rape. The next day, she got a post office box and opened a separate bank account, but she stayed with him for another twenty-five years.

  Maggie finally felt warm enough to get up to make another cup of coffee. When she pushed the brew button, she finally noticed the sticky-note pad near the coffee maker.

  Let the wood stove burn down or it will be too hot later. Thanks.

  Love, Liz.

  She smiled when she read the closing. These little clues to Liz’s feelings always touched her. Liz was never effusive. Her affection was low key and incremental, although its expression could often be deeply symbolic. They seldom argued when they were college lovers, but once, after a fight, Liz went home to her parents’ for an entire week. When Liz returned she brought a single pink rose that was so perfect, it looked fake, but it wasn’t. They sat side by side and marveled at its perfection. Then they made love and it was so perfect that Maggie felt her edges were merging with Liz’s, and there was nothing separating them.

  As Maggie headed to the refrigerator to get cream for her coffee, she noticed that some of the boxes of tomatoes, eggplants and peppers on the floor next to the pantry were gone. Liz had said she intended to take them to the food pantry. Her plan was to process the remainder into sauces and dinners to be stored in the freezer. When Maggie opened the refrigerator, she saw the stacks of packaged Italian sausages and the tubs of ricotta cheese. Liz hadn’t asked her to get involved in this project, but now, Maggie saw an opportunity for a productive day, never mind an excuse to avoid working on her book. She put up a big pot of water to boil so she could scald the tomatoes in preparation for making sauce.

  Liz called around noon. Maggie could tell from her cheerful tone that she’d rather just forget about the argument and move on, but then she said, “How about we go out to dinner and continue our discussion from last night?”

  “Oh, Liz. The kitchen is a disa
ster, and I just made a vat of sauce and five trays of eggplant rollatini. I thought we could have some for dinner.”

  There was a long pause. Did Liz disapprove of her taking the initiative?

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she finally said.

  “I know, but I’m home and you’re busy, so I thought I’d help out.”

  “I guess that means you’re staying a while.”

  “I guess so. And, Liz, bring home some Italian bread—a semolina or that nice ciabatta with roasted garlic.”

  “I thought you didn’t eat bread.”

  “I do on special occasions.” Maggie allowed a brief pause to elapse. “And I do want to continue our conversation from last night.”

  By the time, Liz got home from the office, Maggie had finished processing the tomatoes. She’d made both plain and Italian tomato sauce and packed it in the plastic containers Liz had set aside.

  “Not bad for a city girl,” Liz said, coming up from the basement after putting the sauce in the freezer. “You even remembered to leave room enough for expansion when it freezes.”

  “I’m more competent than you think.”

  “I never doubted it.”

  “Sit down. Dinner is ready.”

  Maggie smiled as she watched Liz demolish a plateful of rollatini. “My God, Maggie, this is so good! How did you become such a good cook?”

  “When I first got married, I had a lot of time to practice. It took me a while to get a job. Barry didn’t want me to work. He liked the idea of a stay-at-home wife. But finally, he got me a job at his company.”

  Liz nodded, absorbing the information. She frowned a little. “You didn’t cook for Meier. Why not?”

  “Because he expected it.”

  “You cook for me.”

  “You don’t expect it, and you enjoy it so much. I love to watch you eat what I cook. Your compliments make me feel appreciated.”

  “I do appreciate you…very much.” Liz picked up a piece of ciabatta and dipped it into the little dish of olive oil. “Relationships change over time. Everything is wonderful in the beginning. The parties are on their best behavior.”