The Loft

by Bette Lee Crosby

  “When you invited them here, did they say anything?” Ophelia asks cautiously.

  “If you mean did they thank me for inviting them,” Annie says, smiling, “they most certainly did. Lillian said she wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Did she tell you anything about Baylor Towers?”

  “No,” Annie replies, “but we didn’t talk that long. I’m sure we’ll have more time to talk tonight.”

  Ophelia had planned to tell Annie of her surprise at dinner, but this turn of events changes things. Debating about whether she should say something now or wait until tomorrow, she lifts her glass and drains the last of the iced tea.

  “Now that you’re home,” Annie says, “you should stay in touch with your friends. Maybe once or twice a week we could go into town and stop by for a visit.”

  This is the opening Ophelia has been looking for.

  “I was thinking I’d like to be with them more often,” she says.

  “No problem,” Annie replies. “We can go as often as you like.” Seconds later she is off to the kitchen to refill their glasses.

  Before Annie returns the front door clicks open, and Oliver calls out saying he is home. Ophelia gives a saddened sigh; what she has to say will have to wait until tomorrow.

  Ophelia

  It’s devilish hard to say something you know is going to hurt somebody you love, and I love Annie as much as I’d love a child borne of my body. It won’t be easy to flat out say it’s time for both of us to start living our own life. But I believe it’s the right thing to do, and I’m praying God will give me the strength to stay firm.

  Sometimes I’m all fired sure I’m doing the right thing; then other times I start doubting myself. When that happens, I think back on how it was with Phoebe and her mama. Every mama loves her baby, and I’m sure there was a time when Gertrude loved her daughter. But it seems living together killed that love. I never met Phoebe’s husband, but I can guarantee you he’s not a happy man. How can he be with that kind of friction going on day in and day out?

  Mind you, I’m not comparing Annie to Phoebe. Annie has a kind heart. I can’t in my wildest dreams imagine she’d ever talk to me the way Phoebe talked to her mama. But that doesn’t change the reality of things.

  The reality is young people need to be alone together. They need time to discover one another, find their hopes and dreams, and plan for a future. In a few years babies will come along, and it will be too late for these things. They’ll move on to being a family, and their thoughts will be about doing what’s best for their babies.

  That’s not a bad thing. It’s simply the way life happens. But years from now when those responsibilities come at them like a steamroller, they’ll think back on these early days. That’s when they’ll be glad they had this time to lie in the grass and do nothing but enjoy the closeness of each other. The memory of such sweetness is what carries a person through the hard years.

  I’m hoping Oliver will understand the wisdom of what I’m saying, even if Annie doesn’t. Annie loves me, and love sometimes gets in the way of seeing things clearly.

  I know she won’t be happy when I first tell her, but time will change that. Once she settles into a life of her own, she’ll understand the truth of what I’ve been saying. Until then, Annie’s got a good man by her side. He’ll take care of her.

  A Sad Surprise

  When the guests arrive Ophelia is wearing the blue silk dress she saves for special occasions. She is ready and waiting when the doorbell rings.

  “I’ll get it,” she says and scurries off.

  As she suspects, it is Lillian. Sam and Pauline are just steps behind. In the few seconds she has before Annie comes to welcome them, Ophelia whispers a warning that she has not yet told anyone of her plan.

  Lillian gives a knowing wink.

  Max arrives not long after Ophelia’s friends, and the others happen along minutes later. Once they are all together, Annie carries in a tray with seven glasses of champagne. She hands one to each guest, gives one to Oliver and Ophelia and keeps one for herself.

  “Tonight is a very special occasion,” she says. “We are welcoming Ophelia home. She has been sorely missed around here.”

  “And she’s gonna be missed a whole lot more,” Sam says.

  Lillian slides her hand behind his back and gives him a good hard pinch.

  “What Sam means to say,” she says, “is that we are all going to miss the good times and pinochle games we had at Kipling.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Sam says.

  Lillian pinches him a second time.

  “Ouch!” he yells. “That hurt.”

  Lillian leans in and brushes her napkin across the front of Sam’s shirt as if she has splashed a bit of champagne on him.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says loudly. Beneath her breath she whispers, “It’s going to hurt a whole lot more if you don’t keep quiet.”

  “Okay, that’s what I meant,” Sam says. “I’ll miss the pinochle games.”

  After two more rounds of champagne and a steak that Sam declares “the best he’s ever tasted,” Annie feels the time is right for her surprise. She raps the blade of her knife against the edge of the plate and everyone turns.

  “You’ve all met my friend Max,” she says, “but I haven’t yet told you the reason she is here. Max is an architect, and she has designed something very special as a welcome home gift for Ophelia.”

  She gives a subtle nod and Oliver leaves the room. He comes back carrying an easel and what appears to be a large painting. He sets it in a spot where everyone can easily see.

  He nods back and Annie continues. “As you know, because of her heart attack Ophelia can no longer climb the stairs. We’ve looked into the possibility of a lift chair, but unfortunately the staircase is too narrow.

  She turns toward Oliver with a look of adoration. “So my wonderful husband came up with this alternative.”

  Just as they’ve planned, Annie waves her hand and he unveils the drawing of the lookalike room.

  Ophelia views it with a quizzical eye. “A picture of the loft?”

  “Not a picture,” Oliver says. “It’s an architectural rendering of your new room in the wing.”

  Ophelia squints at the drawing then looks up at Oliver. “What wing?”

  “The one we’re planning to build,” he says proudly. “Annie told me how much the loft means to you, so we thought it would be nice to recreate it right here on the ground floor. By adding this room you’ll be able to enjoy the things you love without having to climb stairs.”

  “And,” Max adds, “the bookcases from the loft will be moved to the new room, so you’ll still have all those wonderful memories.”

  Ophelia’s face falls. “Lord have mercy,” she says through a gasp and clutches her hand to her chest.

  Annie jumps from her seat and dashes to Ophelia’s side. “Is it your heart?”

  Ophelia shakes her head but says nothing. She just sits there looking like the ceiling has fallen on her head.

  When Oliver asks if he should call for the doctor, she again shakes her head.

  “It’s a beautiful plan,” she finally says. Her words come slowly with long pauses between them. “I am blessed to have the two of you care so much about my happiness, but I have also planned a surprise.”

  Ophelia pushes back from the table, goes to the bedroom and returns with a fat envelope. She hands it to Annie.

  “I don’t want to change this house,” she says. “I want to forever remember it exactly as it is.”

  “This was only a suggestion,” Oliver says. “We don’t have to—”

  Ophelia holds up the palm of her hand. “It was a beautiful thought, more than I could possibly ask for. But there comes a time when people need to live their own life.” She smiles at Annie and suggests she open the envelope.

  Annie does as she is told then looks up with that same type of quizzical expression. “I don’t get it. What does this mean?”
/>   “Memory House is now yours,” Ophelia says.

  “Mine? Why mine?”

  “Because you belong here. I’ve known it from the start.”

  Oliver frowns. “Annie can’t take that. We’ll be happy to stay for as long as you need us, but there’s no need—”

  Stopping him in mid-thought, Ophelia says, “I know there’s no need. I’m doing this because it’s what I want to.”

  “Why?” Annie asks. “Why all of a sudden do you want—”

  “It’s not all of a sudden,” Ophelia says. She explains she has decided to take an apartment at Baylor Towers where she can be with friends her own age.

  As she listens Annie’s eyes fill with tears. “I thought we were friends.”

  Ophelia pulls Annie into her arms. “We’re more than friends. We’re family.”

  “Well, then why?” Annie says, choking back a sob.

  “Because this house was made for lovers. I knew it the first time Edward and I saw it. It’s got a magic all its own but it’s a magic meant for lovers, not for an old woman who has nothing to cling to but memories.”

  “But I thought you were happy with your memories—”

  “Content,” Ophelia says, “but not happy. Happy is when you can laugh out loud and dance as if there is no tomorrow. Happy is when you have your lover lying next to you and the only sound you hear is that of his heartbeat.”

  Ophelia’s eyes fill with water as she remembers.

  “Edward and I had our turn at happy,” she says. Her voice is soft and tender; it has the sound of a mother talking to her child. “This time belongs to you and Oliver.”

  “Don’t worry about Annie and me,” Oliver says. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Ophelia looks at him and smiles. “I thought that also, but there is never enough time. No matter how many years you have, when the time comes you plead for one more dance, one more kiss, one more time of hearing him say I love you.”

  As Ophelia speaks Max rises from her chair and taps the others on the shoulder signaling for them to follow her. As they tiptoe out the door she whispers this is a time when Ophelia, Annie and Oliver need to be alone.

  “I’ve got to call Baylor Towers for the car to pick us up,” Sam says.

  “That’s okay,” Max replies. “I’ll drive you home.”

  The sky grows dark, but the three of them continue to talk. In time they leave the dishes on the table and move to the back porch.

  Annie continues to insist she doesn’t want the house.

  “All I ask is for you to stay here and let us take care of you,” she says.

  Ophelia can feel Annie’s sorrow in her own heart, but she remains firm. “It’s too late. The deed has already been transferred, and I’ve put a hold on an apartment at Baylor Towers.”

  When Annie hears this, the tears stream down her cheeks.

  “How could you?” she says, her voice harsh and accusing. “How could you leave and not care—”

  “Annie!” Oliver says sharply. “Don’t do this. Ophelia doesn’t deserve—”

  Ophelia again signals him to stop. When he does she reaches across and takes Annie’s hand in hers.

  “Don’t ever think I don’t care,” she says. “I do. I care more for you than I’ve cared for anyone since I lost my dear sweet Edward. You’ve made me remember the joy of living.”

  Annie blinks back the tears. “Then why?”

  “Because you’ve got a life to live, and so do I,” Ophelia says. “It’s wrong to let love be a reason for not living life to the fullest—”

  “But—”

  “There are no buts. It’s already been decided. I’m going to live at Baylor Towers. Now if you care for me half as much as I do you, you’ll help me move in and get settled.”

  When Annie looks up, she sees Oliver waiting for her answer just as Ophelia is. At that moment she remembers what he said when, instead of continuing on their honeymoon, he willingly turned the car around and headed back to Virginia.

  I’m hoping that one day you will love me the way you do Ophelia.

  The hope in his eyes wraps itself around her heart. She smiles at him, then gives Ophelia’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

  “Of course I’ll help you,” she says. The anger is gone from her words.

  Max

  Whoa, I never saw that coming. I feel bad enough that it’s the end of my project, but I feel even worse for Annie. I know how excited she was about this evening. She fussed over every detail of that dinner because she wanted it to be perfect. She wasn’t looking for something in return; she just really loves Ophelia.

  This is probably hard for her to understand right now, but after I drove Lillian and her friends back to Baylor Towers I could see why Ophelia wants to live there. Those folks might be a bit older, but they sure know how to have fun. Sam is a hoot. The whole way home he was telling dumb jokes. At first I thought they were kind of cornball, you know, the stuff nobody laughs at. But by the time we got to the building, I was in stitches.

  Ophelia loves Annie; she showed it by giving her the house. Somebody who doesn’t care a bean about you doesn’t up and give you a house. Right now Annie’s feelings are hurt so she can’t see it. Once she gets over her hurt, she’ll realize what a nice thing Ophelia did.

  It’s like having an ice cream cone with two scoops. If the top ball falls off, you feel so bad about it you forget you’ve still got the cone with another scoop of ice cream inside.

  My losing this project was the top ball falling, but having Annie as a friend means I’ve still got the cone and the second scoop.

  Nothing is all good or all bad; that’s how you’ve got to look at life. If you see it from one side or the other, you’re just going to make yourself crazy.

  Baylor Towers

  The weekend passes with no further mention of the move. But on Monday morning when the three of them sit down to breakfast, Ophelia says she plans to see the apartment today. She looks across at Annie and asks, “Will you go with me, or should I call for a car?”

  Oliver peers over the edge of his cup and waits for Annie’s answer.

  “I’ll go,” she says. She doesn’t say she’ll be happy to go, just that she’ll go.

  This answer is enough to please Oliver. He smiles then reaches beneath the table and gives her knee a squeeze.

  He scoops up the last few bites of his omelet and stands. “I’ve got a full docket, so I won’t be back until after six.” He kisses Annie on the mouth, gives Ophelia a peck on the cheek and is gone.

  Oliver has been a buffer, a wall holding back Annie’s sorrow and softening the pain of Ophelia’s words. Now it is just the two of them. For a moment there is an uncomfortable silence. It is a moment that could easily segue into either acceptance or anger.

  Annie is first to speak. “Since we’re already going to be at Baylor Towers, maybe you could call your friend Lillian and ask if she’d like to have lunch with us.”

  A broad smile crosses Ophelia’s face. “That’s a wonderful idea. It’ll be my treat.”

  Annie gives a guilty grin. “Actually it’s Oliver’s treat. He was the one who suggested it.”

  Although Ophelia says only that she must remember to thank him, inside her chest she can feel her heart swelling to twice its size.

  ~ ~ ~

  The building is exactly as Ophelia imagined. Tall and stately with a burgundy awning covering the walkway. A uniformed doorman greets them when they step inside. Ophelia gives her name and he buzzes for the building manager, Peter Peters.

  Peters is there within minutes and welcomes them with a handshake. “Call me Pete,” he says. “Everyone does.”

  They cross the lobby and take the elevator to the second floor. Pete unlocks the door and they step inside. The apartment is just as it appeared in the pictures: a tiny kitchen where the refrigerator and stove are an arm’s length from one another. A breakfast nook large enough for a small table and perhaps four chairs, far too small for the mahogany dinin
g room set. That Ophelia will leave behind.

  In the center of the apartment is a fairly spacious living room. It is large enough to accommodate most of the parlor furniture, including the bookcase. At the end of the room a sliding glass door opens onto a small terrace overlooking the flower gardens.

  Ophelia catches the fragrance of the garden and smiles.

  “It’s lovely,” she says with satisfaction. Already she can picture where she will set the chintz sofa and the comfy leather chair.

  The single bedroom is small, much smaller than the loft. She will bring the small dresser and the mattress she and Edward slept on. It is old and should be replaced, but on certain nights she can still catch the smell of his cologne so she will hold on to it. The bed itself is a built-in platform, nailed to the floor, so it will remain behind.

  One by one Ophelia imagines each of her things in its new spot in this apartment. A lamp in the corner. Her special potpourri on a small table by the door. A tiny nightstand alongside the bed.

  After she has gone through the apartment, Ophelia signs the lease and lists Annie as her next of kin. In the spot where the questionnaire asks relationship she writes “Very close,” which oddly enough is the best possible explanation.

  Pete hands Ophelia a folder filled with maps and lists. “This will familiarize you with the building layout and the services we offer.” He pulls a yellow highlighter from his pocket and circles a telephone number. “This is the number you call for our car service. They’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  “That’s really great,” Annie says and gives Ophelia a sly smile. “At least I won’t have to worry about you venturing out alone again.”

  After Pete hands Ophelia the key to her new apartment, he accompanies them back to the lobby. The doorman buzzes Lillian and says her guests are here.

  When Lillian arrives in the lobby she is grinning like the Cheshire cat.