Summer Friends

by Holly Chamberlin

  “No,” Maggie said, and the tone of her voice was different now. Cold. “Of course not. No one can help you, either. Certainly I can’t. Good-bye, Delphine. I won’t bother you again.”

  Maggie walked quickly through to the front door and closed it firmly behind her. Delphine stood rigidly still for a full minute and then, as if compelled by a force she could not name or control, she ran into the living room and over to the old cardboard box her mother had found in her attic. She knelt beside it and rummaged through the detritus of her childhood until her hand closed on the dirty, frayed macramé bracelet Maggie had given her all those years before. She would cut it to shreds; she would stuff it in the garbage. She would burn it out behind the house; she would tear it to pieces.

  But the moment she saw the bracelet clutched in her hand, she fell from her knees to the floor, flooded with a sense memory of love, literally knocked over by a wave of emotion. Later, she would recall this moment as one of supreme catharsis, similar in a way to the cathartic moment she had experienced at the protest rally all those years earlier. But at the time, she simply thought she might die.

  Sitting on the floor of the living room, clutching the old gathering of string, Delphine cried, deep, painful sobs. She cried for the sake of the love she once bore her friend. It had been a real, living thing, their friendship, and she had in effect murdered it. They had grown together from childhood to womanhood and all that life together had to count for something in the present. At the very least, the reality of the friendship deserved respect.

  She cried, desperately hoping that Maggie would forgive her. She cried for Kitty, for her own blighted maternal life, for the child she had never been wise enough to have. She cried for Harry and for Ellen, for the marriage that had been stolen from them, and she cried for his devotion to what was only a memory.

  And she cried for her own broken heart. She had never allowed herself to properly grieve for Robert and the love they had shared. She had loved him so much, with such an intensity and such a joy. It had been a once-in-a-lifetime love that she had killed before its time. The realization of such accumulated loss threatened to overwhelm her. She lay down on the floor now and curled into a ball. She felt a warm pressure against her back and realized that Melchior had come to sit with her. She stayed on the floor for a long, long time.

  62

  1987

  “Delphine.”

  Delphine turned. She had been hoping to leave the reception unnoticed. It didn’t matter that she say good-bye to the bride. Well, maybe it did, but she was desperate to avoid an emotional scene, for her sake as well as for Maggie’s.

  Maggie stood there, magnificent in a confection of a pure white dress, a veil falling to her waist. In each ear a diamond sparkled. She was wearing more makeup than she usually wore, which somehow emphasized rather than disguised her natural beauty. Delphine had never seen Maggie look like this, so perfect, not even at parties. She felt as if she were looking at a character from a book, a princess about to ride off into the sunset on a white stallion. Self-consciously she fingered a button on the faux satin jacket she had borrowed from a neighbor back home. I’ll never be like Maggie, she thought, but what exactly that meant she didn’t know.

  “I haven’t had a moment to say hello,” Maggie said. “The whole day has been a whirlwind. The whole week, actually.”

  “Being a bride is a busy job.”

  Maggie laughed a little. “I know. My feet are killing me. Are you having a good time?”

  “Oh, yes. The food was very good.”

  “Yes. My mother and I went to five tastings before we finally chose the caterer.”

  There was an awkward pause. Delphine fought the temptation to look at her watch. Maggie twisted her wedding rings with her thumb.

  “Gregory seems very nice,” Delphine blurted.

  Maggie laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t be marrying him if he weren’t!”

  “Of course. He seems very devoted.” Maybe she had meant to say “attentive.” She had never met Gregory before today. How could she really know anything about him?

  “He is,” Maggie said. “He’s a very loyal person. It was one of the things that made me like him so much.”

  Delphine blushed. She was all too aware that she had, in a way, been disloyal to Maggie. But she had abandoned Maggie to save her own life. And that was excusable. It had to be.

  “It was a beautiful ceremony,” she said then.

  “Thanks. I wanted something traditional. And my parents were adamant about nothing weird. Since they paid for everything I couldn’t really argue.”

  Delphine smiled a bit. Jackie had paid for her own wedding. So had Joey. Her mother had worn a friend’s dress to her own wedding. She had returned the dress, freshly laundered and pressed, the next day.

  “The band’s rendition of ‘With or Without You’ was interesting.”

  Maggie smiled. “My parents had to make some small concession to me. At least I didn’t choose it as my wedding song. My father strongly prefers Johnny Mathis to U2.”

  There was a moment of silence. Neither woman seemed to know what to say. Delphine focused on the standing ashtray outside the door to the ballroom. Maggie fiddled with her rings again. Finally, Delphine spoke. “Well, I really do have to be leaving.”

  “So soon?” Maggie said. “I mean, I haven’t seen you in three years. And we haven’t even cut the cake. And I still have to throw my bouquet.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. It’s a long drive back. And my father needs me to work the diner first thing in the morning. We open at five.”

  Maggie seemed about to further protest Delphine’s leaving, but then all she said was, “Okay. Sure. Drive safely.”

  “I will.”

  “Delphine? Thank you for coming.”

  “Sure.” Delphine raised her hand in a wave and before Maggie could attempt a hug she turned and walked quickly toward the hotel’s grand entrance hall.

  Maggie watched her go. She thought of the aquamarine necklace in its pale blue velvet case, tucked into a dresser drawer in the bridal suite. It should have been Delphine’s. It would have been if . . .

  “Maggie! I’ve been looking all over for you.” It was her mother, resplendent in a sea foam green chiffon gown. “It’s time to cut the cake!”

  Maggie wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Dorothy sighed mightily.

  “Oh, look, now you’ve smudged your mascara. Come to the ladies’ room and we’ll fix it. What are you crying about anyway? This is the happiest day of your life.”

  If it is, Maggie thought, allowing herself to be steered in the direction of the ladies’ room, then why do I feel so miserable?

  63

  It was Friday afternoon, around three o’clock. Delphine knocked on the door of room number 22. Ordinarily, the policy at the hotel was to not let visitors up to the rooms, but the staff at the front desk of Gorges Grant knew Delphine and waved her on.

  “Yes?” came a voice from within the room.

  Delphine cleared her throat. “It’s Delphine.”

  A long moment later the door opened. Maggie gestured for her to come inside. A suitcase was open on the king-sized bed, half filled with lingerie and shoes in plastic cases. A bulging garment bag hung on the inside of the open closet door. Maggie had been packing to leave Ogunquit. Delphine wondered if she had been planning to tell her.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Maggie said, careful to keep her tone neutral and even. “I thought you had no use for me.”

  Delphine nodded. “I know. I know. Look, Maggie . . .” Suddenly, her head began to buzz and her eyesight to dim. “I . . .”

  Maggie rushed forward just as Delphine began to sway. “Are you okay? Here, sit. Let me get you some water.”

  Maggie helped her into a large armchair. Delphine felt too weak to resist Maggie’s ministrations. She gulped the water Maggie brought from the bathroom and tried to breathe carefully. “I’m sorry. I haven’t really been eating since . . .”

/>   “It’s okay; just breathe. And when you get home, have some protein. Scramble some eggs. Don’t be stupid.”

  Delphine looked up imploringly. “I’m so sorry, Maggie,” she said. “I’m so sorry for everything. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Maggie didn’t smile when she spoke, and her tone was matter-of-fact. “Yes,” she said. “I forgive you.”

  “So easily?”

  “I didn’t say it’s easy. But my acceptance of your apology is sincere.”

  Delphine nodded. “Thank you. I don’t know if I deserve your friendship anymore, but I would like to try to earn it back.”

  “Okay,” Maggie said. She sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. “How do you suggest you go about that?”

  Delphine sighed. “By telling the truth.”

  “Always a good place to start.”

  Delphine paused for another moment before saying, “There’s something I should have told you a long time ago. Do you remember the protest rally Robert mounted in our senior year? The one against nuclear weapon proliferation, the one that threatened to get out of control?”

  “Of course,” Maggie said. “He averted what could have been a disaster. As it was, only a few people were really hurt.”

  “I didn’t have a migraine that night. I was at the rally and I ran away. I panicked and ran. It came to me like a revelation, an epiphany. I suddenly knew, standing in the middle of that crowd, that I couldn’t marry Robert. I knew I belonged in a smaller, quieter world. Not in his world.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Okay,” she said slowly. “But why did you lie to me? Why did you lie to Robert? Why?”

  “I was ashamed,” Delphine said, her eyes filling with tears. “I thought you both would think me a coward.”

  “Oh, Delphine. We loved you. We might have helped you. We might never have lost each other, all of us, if you’d been able to be honest about what you were feeling.”

  “I know,” Delphine said. “I know that now.”

  The women were quiet for some time. Finally, Maggie said, “You know, if I’d known why you’d ended things with Robert, if I’d understood, our friendship might not have withered away.”

  “I know,” Delphine said, despair in her voice. “I know. Look.” From the pocket of her work shirt she took the frayed and dirty macramé bracelet. “Do you remember this? It’s the only part of our past that I have left.”

  Maggie reached out for the bracelet and turned it over in her hand. “You have the memories,” she said with a smile.

  “Not as many as you do.”

  “Yeah, well,” Maggie said, handing the bracelet back to Delphine, “I think we’ve established that I might have a flair for embellishing memories. That and a well-developed case of selective memory.”

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Delphine said. “Maggie, I’m sorry that I said those awful things to you. I don’t know what was wrong with me. Well, maybe I do. I don’t know, really. I just know that I’m sorry.”

  Maggie smiled a bit. “Me too. Maybe I should have tried harder to keep in touch with you. But after a while the continued rejection just wore me down. Look, I know life happens and people change and all.... But some people are meant to be together forever; I believe that. I believe that about us.”

  “And you came back here to make sure that we would be.”

  “To be honest,” Maggie said, “I don’t know if I had any coherent thoughts about coming back to Ogunquit. I know I wanted to find something.... And to escape something, even temporarily . . . Maybe it was some long-buried or -ignored instinct that made me want to seek you out. An instinct for . . . home, in a way.”

  “Or for security and acceptance. Not that I’ve shown you much acceptance these past weeks . . .”

  “We’ve both been judgmental,” Maggie said. “And maybe a bit stupid. We know that. And I think we know why, now.”

  “When your own life isn’t great, criticize someone else’s.”

  Maggie laughed. “God, we’ve been idiots. On our own and together.”

  “We’ve also been smart,” Delphine said. “Let’s not go crazy with the blame. I am happy with a lot of things in my life. I am proud of some of the decisions I’ve made. Just . . . not all of them.”

  “Yeah,” Maggie said. “Me too. Having the kids, that was a good decision.”

  “And marrying Gregory?”

  “Well, once it was the right decision, but maybe it’s not anymore. I guess I need to get working on that before any more precious time goes by. And what about not marrying Robert?”

  “Good decision,” Delphine said emphatically, “one hundred percent. Getting involved with Harry, staying in a stagnant relationship for so long . . . Not so much.”

  “Will you leave him?”

  “Probably,” Delphine said. “I don’t think staying on is a real choice anymore. We had a . . . a conversation. I said some things. . . .”

  “Be prepared to miss him. But don’t let the missing lead you back into trouble.”

  “I won’t,” Delphine agreed. “Actually, I suspect I’ll get over him pretty quickly. Look, promise me you won’t do anything rash, like tell Gregory you want a divorce before you really explore all the options. A marriage is a pretty big thing to toss away. And I know I have no right to be preaching to you since I never managed to get married.”

  “You have every right to advise me,” Maggie said. “You’re my friend.”

  “Okay, so go to therapy. Talk to him honestly. Do something. It would be a shame to lose a relationship worth keeping.” Delphine smiled ruefully. “Look what happened with us.”

  “What almost happened, you mean. I promise to do everything I can to fix things in my marriage.”

  Delphine smiled a watery smile. “Pinky swear?”

  “Of course. You know,” Maggie said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said about the Boston trip not being such a good idea. And I think you were right. I think I was so insistent upon the idea of our . . . running away because I wanted to escape from my unsatisfying life into a nostalgic past that doesn’t even exist, that never existed. I think I was trying to make nothing into something real. I’ve been guilty of magical thinking.”

  Delphine nodded. “And I was so afraid to ‘run away’ because of what might have happened after. Because all sorts of things might have started to change. I was slightly terrified, actually.”

  “No one really can go home again, can they?”

  “Well, I did. In a lot of ways.”

  “Maybe you never really left home in the first place,” Maggie suggested. “Maybe that’s why your life has worked out as well as it has. And it has worked out well in many respects. I’m sorry I didn’t understand that.”

  “My life is hardly perfect.”

  “I wonder if anyone would know if her life was perfect. I mean, maybe it’s part of human nature to be discontent, to always want something else or other. Unless, of course, you’re a saint or a Zen master or something.”

  “Perfect would be boring, I suppose,” Delphine said.

  Maggie laughed. “I think I’d like to try boring. I’m getting too old for drama. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Really, these past few weeks have exhausted me.”

  “And even the most amicable divorce is bound to bring drama.”

  “I get it; I get it.” Maggie got up from the bed. “Look, let’s go get you something to eat. You look awful, totally worn-out. You can’t drive in that condition.”

  Delphine smiled. “You know, suddenly I’m starved.”

  “And I’m picking up the tab.”

  “And I’m too tired to argue.”

  64

  Delphine pulled her truck into her brother’s driveway late Saturday morning. Joey was at work, but Cybel was home with Kitty.

  “Thanks for letting me come along,” Maggie said as she climbed out of the passenger seat.

  “Well, Kitty asked me about you. She wanted to know why you were staying in a hotel and n
ot with me, since you’re my friend. Like a sleepover.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  Delphine shrugged. “Something lame. But she also wanted to know if she could meet you before you go back home.”

  Delphine knocked on the front door, and a moment later Cybel let them in. Delphine introduced Maggie to her sister-in-law.

  “Kitty’s in the living room,” Cybel said. “I’m letting her watch TV as a treat. Usually, she’s not allowed to watch TV during the day. But now . . .”

  Maggie touched Cybel’s arm. “Yes,” she said gently.

  Cybel smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll go get us something to drink. You can go on in.”

  They found Kitty sitting on the couch, eyes glued to a cartoon on the television.

  “Hey,” Delphine said. “What are you watching?”

  “Johnny Test.”

  “Is it good?”

  Kitty shrugged. “It’s okay. I like the dog.”

  “I’ve brought my friend Maggie to meet you. Remember, you asked?”

  Kitty looked away from the television and nodded. “Hi,” she said.

  Maggie sat on the old armchair next to the couch. “Hey, Kitty. Wow, you look just like your aunt!”

  “I know. Are you Aunt Delphine’s best friend in the whole world?”

  Maggie hesitated a moment before saying, “I think so.”

  “Yes, Kitty,” Delphine said, “she is.”

  “I have a best friend, too. Her name is Emily.”

  “Oh?” Maggie smiled. “What’s she like?”

  Kitty smiled. “Awesome. She’s not here right now, though. She went to visit her cousins in Montreal.”

  “You must miss her.”

  Kitty nodded. “Mm-hm. She sent me a postcard. And I’m making her a friendship bracelet for when she gets back.”

  Maggie looked to Delphine, then back to Kitty. “You know, your aunt and I made each other friendship bracelets when we were kids.”

  “Cool.” Kitty’s eyes drifted back to the cartoon.

  Cybel came in then with a tray of glasses. “I hope you like iced tea,” she said. “It’s unsweetened, but I have sugar if you’d like.”