MAGPIE

  Memories of Bill received the same handling; gentle recollection not efficient archiving like I’d ordinarily do. Sadness and grief had set the tone of our last exchange—a mixture of my own and Bill’s,

  Why can’t you share more about Nathan? What happened, Bill?

  For Christ’s sake, Maggie, can’t you leave it alone? I don’t want to talk about him, ever.

  No, Bill, I can’t. It’s getting in the way of us, are you okay with that? There are lots of things I don’t want to talk about, by the way. I lost a son, too.

  You lost a hero.

  What is that supposed to mean?

  I lost a pathetic excuse for a human being.

  Bill, what are you talking about?

  My son, Nathan. He was a criminal. Sold drugs. He died in prison, after being beaten by a gang of thugs who first raped the hell out of him. He was always a small kid, picked on at school, didn’t like sports.

  But you said he was in the Navy! You told me officers came to your front door, holding a letter just like they had with me. You made me think we shared an awful experience, Bill.

  We did, Maggie. He enlisted but was discharged—dishonorably. I lied about the officers at the door. I was and still am so damn embarrassed. We grew apart after that. My son didn’t fit the mold and we both paid a price. After Nathan was convicted, I shook his hand, said goodbye, and never saw him again. I killed my son ten years before those fucking assholes did.

  Bill stood up from my sofa that day, dropped his coffee mug in the sink and left through the side door. He didn’t say a word on his way out. Surprisingly, I had no urge to chase after him. He needed space, as did I. His grief was insurmountable. As much as I hated to admit it, I didn’t feel like joining him on his journey, he’d have to go solo.

  Katie’s call interrupted my flashback, “Hey, sis, whatcha up to?”

  “Just putting Christmas stuff away. Actually, I’ve decided to leave the tree up for a bit, just wrapping all the little stuff up. I think I’ll keep it all handy for next year, though. I could get used to a holiday season like this last one.”

  “Me too, Mags, me too. Hey, do you have a minute?” Katie’s voice became pensive in a matter of seconds. She could be so impulsive, and I braced myself for anything.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  Please, God, make it be just one minute.

  Katie squealed, “Kevin and I are getting married!” A few too many seconds ticked by and Katie asked, “Mags, you there? Did you cut out?”

  “No, I’m here. Sorry, I cut my finger on an ornament.” In reality, I choked on a sip of coffee just as she announced her engagement, forcing me to mute the phone to conceal my reaction.

  “Wow, that’s great Katie. When did he propose?”

  “You sound as excited as a dead horse…Sorry, I know you like horses. Can you be a little more happy for me, Mags?”

  “Katie, come on, I am happy. You just have a way of crash-landing news onto me. It takes time to soak it all in, honey, that’s all. Of course I’m happy!” This time I meant it. I would have thought a man would have scooped her up years ago—Katie intoxicated everyone with her veracity, quirky character and simple beauty. “Can you stop by? I want to hear everything.”

  “Really? You have time?”

  “Of course! Just bring me a bagel with loads of cream cheese.”

  A quick sprucing up before Katie arrived was in order, which took all of ten minutes. The coffee pot was half full and still warm. Cody was resting and the house looked fine, so why the hell was I pacing the floor? Before I could stop myself, I texted Daniel,

  Today, 10:12 AM

  MAGS: Happy new year!

  I stared at my phone as if I had the power to call forth Daniel’s reply. Unbelievably, it worked and he texted back in seconds,

  DANIEL: U 2, Mags! How the hell r u?

  MAGS: Good, Danny, u?

  DANIEL: Getting used to life alone

  MAGS: I’m so sorry, when did Sami leave?

  DANIEL: Before x-mas, needless to say the holidays sucked

  MAGS: Can you go there to visit? Don’t they play tennis in Germany? U could write the trip off

  DANIEL: Funny you should say that, I’m leaving in feb to cover a tournament in Dubai, followed by another tourney – lots of travel, ugh

  MAGS: What?? Dubai? Ok, u have no idea what image just came to mind!

  DANIEL: Players volleying in thawbs?

  MAGS: Ed zachery!

  DANIEL: What??

  MAGS: Goofy thing my sis says for “exactly”

  DANIEL: Oh! LOL

  MAGS: Speaking of my sis, she’s getting married

  DANIEL: That’s good, right? Like the guy?

  MAGS: It’s good, just strange

  DANIEL: ?

  MAGS: She’s been single her whole life, been avail 24/7- could I be jealous?

  DANIEL: Possibly, I think sibs can become too close, gone thru that with my bro

  MAGS: Really? Was that sad for you?

  DANIEL: Not like Sami

  MAGS: Well, of course not

  DANIEL: Plus, sisters are usually closer

  MAGS: Ya, we sure r

  DANIEL: I miss u

  MAGS: Me 2

  DANIEL: How’s your guy?

  MAGS: No more

  DANIEL: I’m sorry

  MAGS: How’s your gal?

  DANIEL: No more

  MAGS: I’m sorry

  DANIEL: Wanna play?

  MAGS: Can’t now, sis is coming over, but later…

  DANIEL: It’s a date

  MAGS: Mmm

  DANIEL: Ta-ta

  ***

  Katie arrived within minutes of my exchange with Daniel. I think my face was still red from the heat I felt thinking about cavorting with him later.

  “You okay, Mags?” Katie asked as she plopped a huge bagel on a plate for me.

  “Yeah, yeah. Just out of breath lugging a box downstairs. Wow, that looks yummy…”

  Pouring a cup of coffee for herself, Katie said, “I can give you a hand with the others if you want, but for now, let’s chow.”

  Apparently, my aptitude for lying—and pulling it off—had increased significantly.

  “Okay, start from the beginning,” I said while stuffing a wad of bagel in my mouth.

  “Just so you know, there was no ‘popping the question,’ Mags. Believe it or not, Kevin and I have pretty interesting conversations. He’s a deep thinker, something I really love about him. So, we’ve been talking a lot about how our friends are all married with litters of kids and how we really don’t fit in. Do you know what he does, Mags? He’s a rocket scientist, literally! He designs electronics for space shuttles but those are being retired, so he’s working on new stuff, like SLS…shit, I forget what that stands for, but it’s the new stuff NASA is doing.”

  Katie could hardly contain herself. Kevin had captured her heart, mind and soul, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled for my baby sister.

  With a mixture of immense joy and just a pinch of sadness, I sunk back into my sofa, polishing off my bagel. I listened to how two very different yet compatible people just committed to a lifetime together.

  “You know what he told me after we agreed that marriage was a good idea? He said, ‘Katie, you make me want to get up an hour earlier in the morning and stay up an extra hour at night.’ I know that sounds corny, but I knew after that, he was the guy for me.” Katie was crying, just barely, and I grabbed her hand.

  “You know what Jack said to me? Oh, and by the way, Jack never officially ‘popped the question’…I did.” A tear ran down my cheek as I reflected.

  “Was it in true Jack form?” We giggled, recalling how Jack would simplify things in a way that rivaled a periodic table.

  “In fact, it was. After I suggested that we get married, Jack did that thing with his mouth—you know? Twisting it, the way he always did when he had to mull something over, then sat back on his chair causing the damn thing to rock on its two back l
egs, and said, ‘It makes sense, Maggie, it’s like I’ve found the exact part for my truck in a giant junk yard… what are the odds?’”

  “Holy shit! That is hilarious!” Katie cracked up and I joined her. Reminiscing had become very effective medicine these past few months, and I savored another few doses.

  After a round of guffaws, I continued, “I know, right? So, I said, ‘Honey, did you just compare me to a spark plug?’ to which he replied, ‘Of course not. You can buy those at any auto parts store. I was thinking more like an intake manifold.’” Concerned that our bagels and coffee would find their way back up, we laughed our way to the kitchen, leaning on the counter to chase side cramps.

  Catching my breath, I said, “God, Jack was so damn funny. He never set out to be, but he just was.”

  Still giggling, Katie said, “Mags, that is the funniest damn story I’ve ever heard. Why am I just now hearing it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, really, maybe things get funnier as time passes.”

  Or when people pass…

  We talked for another two hours. Wedding dresses, locations and guest lists made up the majority of the conversation. Still, stories of Jack and our wedding occasionally surfaced and plenty of happy tears were shed.

  ***

  My stomach ached from all the snorting, giggling and guffawing. Laughter may be the best medicine but the after effect is excruciating. Still musing over our sidesplitting afternoon, I cleaned up the kitchen and resumed my post-holiday organizing.

  Sting’s “Brand New Day” blared from my iPod while I finished packing the last of my Christmas curios. I’d lost track of time, oblivious to the waning sunlight and growing shadows in the house. Still bloated from the bagel I gobbled up hours earlier, I decided to forego solid foods for dinner; a nice Malbec left over from the Christmas Eve bash was more appealing. I opened the bottled and let it breathe while I showered. Daniel came to mind as I rinsed my hair, and I remembered our date.

  “What the hell time is it?” I must have asked the shower curtain, because no living thing occupied the bathroom besides me. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  In less than five minutes I’d managed to dry off, throw my robe on and pour a glass of wine. Phone in hand, I texted Daniel,

  Today, 9:42 PM

  MAGS: I’m squeaky clean, cozy and feeling oh so coquettish!

  DANIEL: I’m hard, hungry and oh so horny

  MAGS: Can we start with hungry

  DANIEL: Absolutely, been craving your pussy for a long time

  MAGS: She’s been dying for you, too

  DANIEL: I’m gunna call you, want to hear your voice, send me a pic?

  MAGS: Only if you send me one

  DANIEL: On its way …

  We fell into our familiar rhythm; Daniel coaxed, teased and expertly led me to an insanely passionate orgasm. Just minutes later, he came with even more intensity, a shock ripping through my body as I heard him cry out, almost in agony. Neither of us spoke in the moments following one of our best fantasy fucks. We listened to each other’s heavy breathing, gradually slowing; there was no rush to talk, to confirm or compliment. It was the first time I truly desired Daniel’s body next to mine. I wanted to feel his hands roaming every inch of my flesh, his mouth on mine.

  Pillow talk was rarely on our agenda, but tonight was an exception. Both of us had something to say.

  “I had a ‘first time’ tonight,” I said flatly.

  Jokingly, Daniel said, “Oh yeah? You’ve been faking it all this time?”

  “No, seriously, Danny. Normally, I’m so damn satisfied. In most cases, I can’t remember ending our call—I fall asleep that fast. But tonight I missed you, physically I mean. I wanted to feel you next to me. Is that strange or what?” I hoped making light of my remark would lessen potential tension or awkwardness.

  “Not strange at all. I’ve had those moments, Mags, several in fact. Didn’t want to say anything because, honestly, you seemed so indifferent. I often wondered how a guy like me could get so wrapped up in something so distant, so impossible, really. I’ve mastered the art of staying on the surface, Maggie. I’m not proud of it, but it’s how I’ve coped, especially now that Sami is gone. I have no one in my life who I care deeply about…except you.”

  Complete silence encased the virtual space we shared. Irrational thoughts filled my mind, leaving little room for objectivity. What was Daniel really saying? Did he expect a response?

  Barely audible, I said, “I am not sure what to say right now. Funny, I’ve felt the same way at times. So, this picture comes to mind whenever I think about ‘us.’ It’s not erotic, so don’t get your hopes up. It’s an image of a graph, with sine waves. Silly, I know, especially since I hated math in school. Bear with me…there are two waves that are not in sync, ever. This infinite graph shows two waves that miss each other at every bend and turn. They never line up.”

  More silence, deafening and emotionally debilitating.

  I was ready to end the call when Daniel spoke up, “But how do you know they never line up, Mags?”

  “I don’t, I suppose. But the pattern is so damn consistent, never ever in sync, you know? God, I hate sounding so scientific. I have no idea where all this shit is coming from. What I’m saying is that you and I have this thing, it comes and it goes. In between, our lives go on, we meet people—we fuck ’em if we’re lucky, maybe we even get close. But all of that is real life Danny, ours isn’t. And I think we have to accept that your ‘up’ is my ‘down’ and vice versa, and that we are so damn lucky to have each other in times of need. We provide a port for each other’s storms.”

  Exhausted, I shut up and welcomed my newfound friend, Silence. She didn’t hang around long, though.

  A little angry this time, Daniel interjected, “A port? Like a shelter, where beaten up dogs are kept awaiting some fucking do-gooder’s good deed, and if that doesn’t happen then he’s fucking euthanized? Geez, Mags, that’s just awesome. So glad I could be of service.” I was stunned by his interpretation and couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I’m a fool to have opened up, Maggie. Disregard everything I said. Jesus Christ.”

  “Danny…”

  “Don’t fucking call me that, Maggie. Just don’t. You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Pissed didn’t even come close to how he sounded. Daniel was lashing out, his intention to inflict pain quite clear.

  “Okay, okay. I just wanted to clarify something. You have to know me better than that. I didn’t mean it that way. You are much more to me than that, more than a ‘shelter,’ I mean. It’s just that we have to be realistic, you know? We live a zillion miles away from each other…”

  “Sixteen-hundred, Maggie, not a zillion. Who’s being unrealistic now?”

  Flustered, I answered, “Fuck, okay. I’m all twisted here. God, why can’t you understand what I’m trying to say, Daniel?”

  Much more calmly this time, Daniel said, “Because I think you’re afraid to say what you really think and feel, Maggie.”

  My friend returned. She was generous this time, affording me several minutes to think carefully about what to say next.

  I began, “Daniel, I care for you, a great deal in fact. I think I’ve said that before. But you and I come in and out of each other’s lives, and that’s not what a relationship is built on. A friendship, sure, but not beyond that. God knows I’m no expert, but I am a realist. I believe that what you and I have is a very fulfilling virtual connection, but it’s not something that will eventually grow into a long-term thing. How can it?”

  I really didn’t want Daniel to answer that, but he did.

  “Gee, let’s think about this for a sec. I think if two people want it bad enough, they’ll find a way. Hell, there are books, songs and movies that tell that story—that very old, indisputable and applicable story. But hey, I guess I’m no expert either, and it appears I’m irrational and unrealistic. We better defer to your rational analysis of our situation, right?” Daniel made sure to lace his
surrender to my position with acid.

  I closed the conversation by simply saying, “Thank you for understanding, Daniel. Though your tone suggests that this may, indeed, be the end to us, is that so?”

  “No, Maggie, it isn’t. The end of us came by way of your fear of love after loss, and your resignation that your life is as good as it will ever be. I won’t take the fall for this stalemate, you have to own it, darling.”

  Daniel didn’t wait for a reply; he ended the call just like that. I held my phone out to confirm the disconnect, staring at the screen that read, “Call ended, 11:19 PM.”

  ***

  I couldn’t sleep after the call with Daniel. Torn up and splattered with emotional blood, I felt like I’d been in a boxing ring with no access to the rulebook. My awkward punches missed the mark while the mark laid perfect punches at me. I knew I was to blame; Daniel’s remark about my fear and resignation was the knock-out punch needed to win. And there was no possibility of a re-match; I’d have to deal with the loss permanently.

  It was two o’clock in the morning, Sunday, so I wasn’t worried about work. Coffee sounded good, so I slogged to the kitchen with Cody at my heels. He was groggy, and I saw the confusion in his eyes.

  “Cody buddy, it’s not time to get up yet, go back to bed, okay?” He knew the word “bed,” but his confusion remained. I walked over to the sofa and coaxed him up.

  “Here you go, hang out here for a while, it’s ok.” My sweet old dog didn’t protest and instantly fell back asleep.

  “Okay, Maggie, what the hell are you going to do with your life?” I’d asked out loud, a recurring question for which I’d offered no meaningful answer.

  Feeling exceptionally vulnerable, I gave in to the longing for the way things used to be and for the people who occupied that particular space and time.

  “You can’t have it back, Mags. Jack’s dead. Michael is dead! And you keep killing off men like bowling pins.” I woke Cody with my angry rant and lured him back to the sofa, promising to keep it down.