Be My Love

by Kit Pearson

  She was talking about David and his mother. They were arriving tomorrow! All day Maisie had managed to shove that fact out of her head, but now it loomed over her.

  “Are we still sleeping in the Hut tonight?” she asked Una desperately.

  “Of course!”

  * * *

  Once they were in bed, Una was unusually silent. She’s thinking about David, thought Maisie bitterly. She began chattering about the party, just to keep Una awake. Everything was going to change tomorrow—she just knew it! This would be the last night that was the same.

  “Wasn’t Clary funny when she ordered us to relight the candles so she could blow them out again?” said Maisie.

  Una barely responded. But then she said slowly, “Maise . . . have you ever kissed a boy?”

  Maisie cleared her throat. “Well, um . . . yes, I have.”

  Now Una sat up. “You have? What was it like? Tell me everything!”

  So Maisie did, as every detail about that long day rushed back.

  Mum had bought her a pale-yellow dress for the grade nine graduation dance. It was the plainest one she could find, and Maisie was resigned to wearing it for just two occasions. The dance was held in the school gym in the afternoon. That evening one of the girls was having a party at her house.

  Jim walked her to the school. She felt so easy with him that she was almost looking forward to the event. As at previous dances, she and Jim could hang around the food table and just watch everyone.

  As soon as they entered the gym, however, and Maisie saw all the couples gyrating to “Come On-a My House,” her nose started to bleed. Blood sloshed over the yellow dress and all over her hands as she tried to stop the flow.

  Jim took her to the nurse’s office. Maisie spent an hour there, lying on her back with a cold washcloth over her face. The nurse told her to pinch her nostrils until the bleeding stopped. When it finally did, she walked home in her blood-splattered dress, people giving her incredulous glances as she passed them.

  “Oh, pickle . . .” cried Mum in despair at her bloodied state. “What am I to do with you?” She whisked off the dress, put it in the sink, and told Maisie to have a bath. Miraculously, all the blood came out. Maisie put on the clean, freshly ironed dress, and Jim picked her up for the party.

  Maisie was terrified that her nose would bleed again, but it was fine. And so was the party. At first everyone jitterbugged. Maisie wasn’t very good at that, but neither was Jim. Then they just sat around and drank Coke and gorged on chips and talked about how wonderful it was to be done with school. Maisie made a big joke out of her nosebleed. It was the first time she had felt relaxed at a mixed party.

  Jim walked her home. It was a warm, fragrant night, and the smell of roses surrounded them as they stood at Maisie’s front door.

  “Would you—would you mind if I kissed you?” murmured Jim.

  Maisie was so surprised that all she could answer was “I guess not.”

  Jim bent towards her. His lips pressed against hers for a few seconds. Maisie drew back, but Jim kissed her again. This time he lingered longer.

  “That’s enough!” said Maisie, pushing him away.

  Jim looked angry. “What’s the matter with you, Maisie—it’s just a kiss!” He stomped down the street.

  “You pushed him away?” said Una. “But why?”

  “Because . . . because I didn’t like it!” Maisie’s voice quivered. “I know your first kiss is supposed to be earth-shattering and wonderful—but it was nothing! Just like Granny or Grand kissing me. But everyone makes such a fuss about it! Is Jim right? Is there something the matter with me?”

  “There’s nothing the matter with you, Maisie! Jim must have been the wrong boy, that’s all. You don’t have . . . feelings about him, right?”

  “Right! He’s just a friend. He was, anyway,” she added sadly.

  “Then don’t worry about it. When you meet the right boy, you’ll enjoy kissing him, I’m sure.”

  Then Maisie confessed her greatest worry. “You know what? I don’t think I will . . . no matter who the boy is. I’m just not interested! And I don’t ever want to have sex, either. Do you think I have to?”

  Una chuckled. “You’re so funny, George. Of course you don’t have to, but when you get married, I bet you’ll want to.” She looked nervous. “Sex does seem scary and kind of . . . weird. But doing it is an expression of how much you love your husband—that’s what Mum says.”

  “But maybe I won’t get married,” said Maisie. “Then I won’t have to have sex!”

  Now Una sounded exasperated. “It’s way too soon to decide that. It’ll be years before you get married.”

  “If I do . . . You know what? I’m just not going to!”

  “But don’t you want to have children?”

  “Maybe . . .”

  “You can’t have children unless you get married!” crowed Una. “I’m going to have four girls—Clara and Esther after my grandmothers, Maud after Mum . . . and the youngest will be called Mairead after you!”

  Maisie grinned. “Thanks! I’ll leave her my great-grandmother’s mirror . . . because if I need to get married to have children, then I guess I won’t have anyone else to leave it to.”

  “Don’t be so stubborn, George—everyone gets married!”

  “Your mum didn’t.”

  “Well . . . she still could someday. Once I asked her why she wasn’t married, and she said she was too busy. But I think she just hasn’t met the right man.”

  “Well, I’m not going to!” The decision felt so surprisingly right that Maisie almost laughed out loud.

  “You shouldn’t decide so soon! You don’t know what will happen when you’re older. I bet you’ll marry a wonderful man, and then the sex and everything will be fine.”

  Maisie stared at Una. “How do you know? Have you ever kissed a boy?”

  “Not yet. Bev has, though! A boy on her street asked her to go for a walk, and he kissed her in the park under the full moon. That’s so romantic!”

  “I do not want to talk about stupid Bev!”

  “Sure. But oh, Maisie, please can’t we talk about—”

  “I’m going to sleep now,” said Maisie abruptly. She rolled over on her side away from Una.

  “You are?” Una sounded disappointed. When Maisie didn’t answer, she sighed and said, “Night-night, George. And don’t worry. I know you’ll meet the right boy one day.”

  “Good night,” murmured Maisie.

  Una tossed beside her. Maisie knew she was so excited about David’s arrival that she couldn’t sleep.

  Neither could Maisie. She went over and over their conversation. Did she really not want to get married and have children? Was Una right? Was the fiasco with Jim simply because he was the wrong boy? All her embarrassment flooded back. When she saw Jim in the fall, they could never be friends again. He’d spoiled everything!

  At least Una hadn’t yet had her first kiss—but Maisie knew who she thought was “the right boy.”

  Chapter Eight

  Pals

  Maisie was determined to hate David as much as she hated Bev. But as soon as she was introduced, his charm overcame her resistance.

  “Hello, Maisie,” he said softly. “We haven’t met for a long time.”

  David used to be a gangly kid. But now he was the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen. His black hair flopped over his high forehead, and his eyes were dark and intense, edged with thick lashes. He gallantly shook hands with the large number of family members hungrily waiting to greet him.

  Una seemed unable to speak. She watched David with a frozen smile on her face, and Maisie watched her, noticing how her whole body quivered.

  “And here is Maisie!” A small, pale woman shook her hand. “How nice to see you again.”

  “Hi, Aunt Rachel. I’m sorry about your husband,” she added, before Granny had time to prompt her.

  “Meet me in the Hut after dinner!” Una whispered.

  She was acting s
o oddly. Maybe she didn’t like David after all!

  * * *

  “Maisie, I know I promised I wouldn’t talk about David, but now that he’s here, can’t I? Please?”

  She looked so desperate that of course Maisie let her.

  “I don’t know what to do!” moaned Una. “He’s being so nice, and I can’t talk to him! I had lots to say to him at the funeral and in my letters, but now I can’t make any words come out! What must he think of me?”

  “Who cares what he thinks? He’s just a boy,” said Maisie. “He seems nice, but you don’t have to get so excited about him.”

  Una started to weep. “He isn’t just a boy. You don’t understand !”

  Maisie wished that she didn’t. She patted Una’s shoulder. “Sorry, Nance. I know he means something to you.” She paused. “Okay, let’s decide what you can do. How about if you begin with little things? Just say ‘How was the boat trip,’ or something like that. Once you start, I’m sure you’ll find it easier. I tell you what—you can practise with me. Pretend I’m David.”

  Maisie stood up and said in a gruff voice, “Hi, Una.”

  That made Una chuckle. “Hi, David. Umm—how was the boat trip—was it rough?”

  “No, the water was as smooth as glass, and we saw some dolphins. Do you often see them?”

  “Sometimes. And we sometimes see whales going down the pass.”

  “What kind of whales?”

  They kept up this inane conversation until they collapsed in giggles. “Thank you, Maisie,” said Una. “You’ve made me relax.”

  “I guess that’s the answer when you feel awkward with someone, to just relax,” said Maisie. “That’s what Granny always says.”

  “You’re right! I know things will go better with David now, especially with your help. What would I do without you, George?”

  But Maisie wasn’t relaxed at all. How had she, over a few hours, suddenly become the means for Una and David to become closer?

  * * *

  Maisie decided that the only way she could stop a romance developing was to never let the two of them be alone. They were together every morning at the hotel, of course, but surely Una would be so busy cleaning rooms that she wouldn’t have a chance to talk to him. David ate lunch at the hotel, and Una ate at home, so there was no danger there.

  David had one foot in the adult world and one foot in the teenage one. He sometimes went for walks with his sad mother. But Aunt Rachel spent most of her time with Aunt Esther as they comforted each other in their grief. David fished with Uncle Daniel, or chopped wood for the hotel, or helped guests carry their luggage.

  He also seemed to really want to be with Una and Maisie, unlike when they were younger. On many afternoons he turned up after lunch and suggested a swim or a bike ride or a hike. On many evenings he took them out to look at the stars, marvelling at how clear and numerous they were.

  “Do you know why they call this time the ‘dog days of summer’?” he asked them. “It’s because they coincide with Sirius rising. It’s the dog star.” He pointed out Sirius and many other constellations.

  To Maisie’s relief, David was equally attentive to both Una and her. He burst with his many enthusiasms: the stars and planets, jazz, art, and faraway countries.

  David was shocked by what they hadn’t read and made them a long list of his favourite books. Una started on it immediately, but Maisie felt insulted. The list looked too much like school, and anyway, she preferred her cozy mysteries.

  Sometimes she found David’s passionate monologues overwhelming; he always wanted to teach them something, whether the names of the stars or all about the new state of Israel. But everything David told them was so fascinating—far more interesting than anything she’d learned at school—that she couldn’t help being intrigued.

  “Next summer I’m visiting Europe,” David confided. “Dad left me some money, and he always wanted me to travel. This fellow I know at college is coming with me.”

  Often his eager expression clouded over and he talked about how much he missed his father. Maisie couldn’t remember much about Uncle Ben, but Una had seen him a few years ago, when he and Aunt Rachel visited Vancouver.

  “He was so much fun!” she told David. “He taught me how to walk on my new stilts and tried them himself.”

  “He would have liked that, being such a short man,” said David, his voice thick with pain.

  Una grinned. “He said maybe he should get some himself!”

  She was relaxed now. So was Maisie. David seemed interested in Una only in the way he was interested in her, Maisie: as a younger member of the family he could share his grief with and use as a sounding board for his enthusiasms. And the fact that Una never talked to Maisie about him, that she treated him like a friendly older brother, made Maisie sure that her crush was over.

  * * *

  Granny and Grand went to Vancouver for a few days to visit friends and see Brigadoon. Maisie and Una were allowed to stay in the rectory by themselves. They made their daytime meals there, then had dinner at Polly’s or at the hotel with the rest of the family. In the evenings David walked back with them and they all sat in a row on the veranda. Maisie always made certain she was in the middle.

  One evening David lit up a cigarette. “Want one?” he asked them.

  “Sure!” said Una.

  “Your mother doesn’t want you to smoke,” pointed out Maisie.

  “My mother isn’t here,” said Una calmly. She held out her cigarette like a movie star and suddenly appeared much older.

  “How about you, Maisie?” asked David.

  She shook her head. “Granny says I have to wait until I’m twenty-one.” Then she squirmed at sounding so prim.

  David leaned back and stretched out his long legs to the railing. “Just look at that moon! I bet we’ll make it up there one day.”

  “To the moon?” said Una. “That’s impossible!”

  “I think it is possible. All sorts of amazing things are possible—just you wait and see! We’re so lucky that the war is over and that we have such a promising future. What are you two going to do?”

  “Do when?” asked Una.

  “Do when you’re grown up, of course. Women can have careers these days—like your mother! You don’t just have to get married and be housewives.”

  “Well, I want to be a pianist, but I don’t know if I’m good enough,” said Una.

  “I think you’re excellent!” said David. “I was listening to you play the Moonlight Sonata yesterday, and you sounded like a professional!”

  “That’s a really easy piece,” murmured Una, “but thanks.”

  Her voice was barely audible, but Maisie could tell how thrilled she was.

  “How about you, Maisie?” asked David.

  Maisie’s words spilled out before she knew they were in her. “What could I possibly do! Una is good at piano, and Maud is good at law, and Polly is good at art—but I’m no good at anything! Neither are my parents . . . Mum has never had a job and now my d-dad has given up the ministry. It must run in the family.”

  Both Una and David whirled to face her.

  “Maisie, don’t be ridiculous!” said Una. “You’re good at everything! You’re so strong, and you’re an amazing swimmer, and you’re so patient with Clary, and you can do carpentry and knit and, and . . . lots of other things!”

  “But those are all little things! What can I do for a career?”

  David looked apologetic. “I’m sorry I asked, Maisie—I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Some people know what they want to do early—I decided to be an astronomer when I was eight. But other people take a long time to find their true calling. Don’t worry—you will. And Una’s right—you’re already good at things. And they aren’t little—they’re important!”

  “Thanks.” Maisie smiled at David. What a knack he had for making someone feel better!

  They gazed at the sparkling sky. “I’ll never forget my first time on Kingfisher,” said David.
“I was only seven, and I’d never realized there were so many stars!”

  “Last night when I was babysitting Clary, she wouldn’t settle,” said Una. “So I wrapped her in a blanket, and we sat on the veranda and looked at the stars. Do you know what she asked me? ‘Who put them there?’”

  David laughed. “And what did you answer?”

  “I just told her God did . . . even though I don’t believe that.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Maisie.

  “I mean I don’t believe in God.”

  “What? You’ve never told me that!”

  “Well, I thought it would bother you, because you’ve always been religious. But I’m telling you now,” said Una calmly. “I just can’t believe that there’s someone in heaven who controls everything we do.”

  Maisie was so shocked that it took her a few minutes to find an answer.

  “I sometimes believe in God,” said David. “As a scientist I think he’s just a superstition, but when you see all this”—he pointed to the sky—“this . . . glory, it makes you think there might be something more.”

  “Exactly!” said Maisie. “There is something more! Una, how can you not believe, when the evidence is all around us? And I can’t help being religious—my father is a rector! At least, he was,” she added bitterly.

  Una patted her knee. “I didn’t mean to sound critical. You’re perfectly free to believe whatever you want—I just happen not to. You’ve always liked church better than I have—I find it incredibly boring.”

  “I really enjoyed going to the service here,” said David. “Your grandfather is a wonderful preacher, Maisie. He’s wasted in this tiny church.”

  “He’s been offered jobs in bigger parishes,” Maisie told him, “but he never wants to leave the island.”

  She turned to her cousin. “Una, two years ago when we were confirmed, you absolutely believed in God! I remember us talking about it. Maybe you should speak to Grand.”

  Una shook her head. “I couldn’t do that—he’d just be hurt. And I don’t need to, because I’m totally sure about this. It’s okay, Maisie. I’ll keep going to church as long as I live at home, because everyone expects me to. But when I’m an adult, I’ll stop. Don’t look so upset! We just have different beliefs, that’s all.”