Memories of May

by Juliet Madison

  Except the more she looked at it the more she wasn’t sure it looked like a butterfly.

  ‘It’s a fat one,’ said Mia. ‘But that’s a bit rude to call something fat, isn’t it.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Mia pointed to the elongated middle of the butterfly.

  ‘It’s the spine, or middle part of the butterfly. I’ll have to Google what it’s called.’

  ‘But it looks weird,’ her daughter said.

  ‘Yes I know.’ She held back a giggle. Olivia waited a moment then lifted the pancake again, placing it on a separate plate. She took a photo, then added some small round shapes to the pan, and while they were setting she added jam to the butterfly. She considered trying again, but shrugged. This will have to do. She took another photo, finished the remaining pancakes, and sat down to eat with Mia. As she ate, she texted Joel: Pancake challenge complete: Butterfly. Except it looks more like a large monster with a giant penis.

  She chuckled.

  ‘What’s so funny,’ Mia asked.

  ‘Just laughing at the giant butterfly.’

  ‘It’s like a monster butterfly,’ she said. ‘Or an alien.’

  ‘I know, exactly what I was thinking!’ Though she decided not to mention her extra observation.

  Her phone buzzed: Bahahahaha! And damn, that was going to be your challenge for next week. Guess I’ll have to think of a new shape now.;)

  Olivia smiled. She was going to reply but another text came in from him: A caterpillar.

  A caterpillar? What would he ask for next, a dragon? She couldn’t resist replying: With a giant penis?

  He replied: Surprise me.

  And she probably would. She was even surprising herself lately.

  Chapter 15

  Olivia was anxious to hear more of her grandma’s story as soon as possible, so after work on Monday she picked up a takeaway dinner and took Mia with her to the nursing home. Tuesday was her writing class, and Wednesday she had tried to allocate as ‘Writing Wednesday’, even though she tried to write parts of the book as often as she could, but having a specified day helped to keep her focused. Plus it was Joel’s night to teach his other class, so there was no chance of being interrupted by his texts, even though she loved being interrupted by them.

  She helped her grandma eat her food first, while Mia munched on her fried rice, and she took mouthfuls here and there of her own. Then Mia’s earphones went on, and so did the recorder.

  ‘Grandma, what happened after you climbed out the window?’

  ‘I didn’t climb out any window,’ she said. ‘I’ve been in here all day. Silly people don’t let me get out enough.’

  ‘No, I mean, back then. In the past.’

  ‘The past?’

  Olivia shuffled closer to the bed. Maybe it wasn’t a good time. Maybe it was too much for her grandma, all this talking and reminiscing. But it was now or never, before her health declined further. The nurse had said she’d been more fatigued the last few days.

  She held Mrs May’s cool, weathered hand. ‘Remember when you got the letter from William asking you to meet him at Lookout Point?’

  ‘William? He wants to meet me?’

  Uh-oh.

  She held a hand to her forehead and was met with a slight warmth, but it could have been from eating her dinner. And the nurse had done her obs beforehand when she’d arrived and hadn’t seemed concerned.

  ‘No, but he did want to meet you in secret, back when you were a young lady.’

  ‘Young. Ahh, to be young again.’ Her eyes went distant.

  ‘Do you remember that night, when you climbed out the window to meet William?’ Olivia probed, as gently as possible.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she replied. ‘Have you ever climbed out a window before?’

  This might take a while … ‘No, but tell me what happened when you did, Grandma.’

  ‘For starters, climbing out was the easy bit. Getting back in was harder. And after I climbed out, I tripped on a rock and tumbled to the ground. I thank my lucky stars no one heard me. What I learned is that you need to put something on the ground under the window to help you get a leg up on your way back in, and also, after you’ve climbed out it’s generally a good idea to look where you’re going before attempting to run off into the night.’

  Olivia smiled and gave an exaggerated sigh at the ramblings. ‘Oh Grandma, if only you’d told me all this when I was a teenager, it would have made sneaking out of home at night so much easier.’ She winked. She’d never snuck out. ‘Now, after you climbed out, and after you tripped on the rock, you went to Lookout Point. What happened there?’

  ‘Lookout Point,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Yes, where you met William.’

  ‘I thought he was going to do that thing men do in the films, gently stroke the woman’s cheek before kissing her. But when his hand came towards me …’ She lifted her good hand slowly to her face, as though imagining it was his. ‘He took a twig and leaf from my hair and tossed it to the ground.’

  Olivia laughed.

  ‘I had no idea it was even there after I fell. Funny thing is, as soon as he did that, for some reason, that’s when I knew I loved him.’

  A tiny flutter flitted in Olivia’s belly. ‘You loved William?’

  Mrs May’s hand rested loosely beside her neck. ‘Love is a strange thing, my dear.’ She took a slow breath then turned her face slightly and looked Olivia in the eyes. ‘You don’t choose it. It chooses you.’

  * * *

  May’s Memories, of William …

  If I hadn’t been so excited, perhaps I would have noticed the graze on my knee and the twig in my hair, but as soon as I landed on the ground, I picked myself up quick smart and scurried off before anyone saw or heard me. My heart felt like a bundle of bees were buzzing around inside my chest, which sounds rather strange, I know; but as I moved as quickly and quietly as I could, nervous but exhilarating vibrations buzzed within like my heart didn’t know what it was doing. Later on, it did. It knew. And it did it anyway.

  It fell hard and fast for William.

  But back to that night. That cool, fluttery, whimsical night that felt like I had climbed out of my window and into the world of a fairytale …

  I came around the bend of the street near the beach and walked quickly up the hill. There was an overgrown tree in the yard of a nearby house blocking my view, but once I got closer to Lookout Point, I saw him; his silhouette, almost blending into the backdrop of the dark bluey-grey sky. He wasn’t facing my way, I noticed, as I got closer. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see if I didn’t come. But he must have heard my footsteps, though soft, against the pebbled pathway up the hill, because he turned, and as the breeze ruffled his chaotic hair, a huge smile surfaced.

  I stole a quick glance around to check that no one else was about, then returned my gaze to meet his. I reached him and stopped, and his hand came towards me. ‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘he doesn’t want to waste any time.’ But he removed the twig with a small leaf attached to it from my hair and gave it a toss. Maybe if he had stroked my cheek and looked lovingly into my eyes instead, I wouldn’t have fallen for him, strangely enough. Maybe that would have been too clichéd, too charming. But the way he tossed the twig and said with a chuckle, ‘I see you went to a lot of trouble to look your best,’ while gesturing to the twig and my grazed knee, did something to my heart that was different, unique, out of the ordinary. And I think my heart had been craving that for quite a while without me realising.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, brushing some dirt from my knee. ‘Had a little tumble on my way here.’

  William bent down and inspected my knee. I thought for a moment he was going to fuss over it and try to perform some kind of medical treatment or kiss it better, but he said, ‘It’s nothing. And it kind of suits you.’

  ‘Suits me?’

  ‘Yes. Makes you look like you’ve been having an adventure. Which perhaps you have.’ A glimmer in his eye made my heart buzz ev
en more.

  ‘Perhaps.’ I smiled.

  ‘Or perhaps you’re ready for one,’ he added.

  My fingers fidgeted with each other as though the excess nervous energy needed to be moved around in some way, before it burst out of my chest like a million stars exploding in the sky. ‘Perhaps,’ I said again, this time more softly, my voice unused to my heart’s new state of existence.

  Then he leaned against the thin railing, only newly erected to guard against sudden gushes of wind as people stood near the rocky ledge. ‘I knew you’d come,’ he said.

  ‘You did?’

  ‘It’s that look in your eye. That curiosity about life and the unknown. I see it.’ He crossed one foot over his other ankle. ‘Even if you only wanted to come here to tell me to stop writing those ridiculous letters, I knew you’d come.’ He grinned.

  I leaned my own hand on the railing. ‘But they’re not ridiculous,’ I said. ‘They’re the highlight of my day.’

  His diamond eyes glimmered and twinkled even more, the moonlight above casting small sparkles around us, like those stars that exploded were now falling upon us.

  ‘Then I shall send more.’ His hand moved along the railing until it met with mine, ever so slightly. ‘Except I only wish to do so if you wish for things to be more than just letters between us. If you wish to see what magic there may be right here, right now.’ One of his fingers lifted and rested on top of mine.

  My skin tingled. I wanted more than what life seemed to be leading me towards. More excitement, more possibility, more … magic.

  I gulped.

  ‘Meet me here, every night before bedtime, if you can. I’ll wait. I’ll be here. Life is so much more magical at night, don’t you agree?’

  I nodded. ‘And what will we do here, every night, before bedtime?’

  ‘Our hearts will go on an adventure,’ he said, more of his fingers now resting atop mine.

  My demure ladylike senses would have removed my hand from under his until he had made a proper, more normal attempt at courting me, but it stayed put. Whatever force was responsible for the gaping wide grin I had flashed around William, and my buzzing bee heart, and my tingling skin, was the same force that glued my hand to that railing and let his slide over mine, sandwiched between cool metal and warm flesh.

  The cool night air rushed into my lungs, and this person standing before me was no longer just the friendly young man at the general store, but a mystical, intriguing, love-letter writer whose heart sought mine.

  I surprised myself then, by entwining my fingers with his, stepping closer, and—our eyes not leaving each other’s—asking him to kiss me. If I was going to climb out a window, trip on a rock and graze my knee, potentially disappoint my mother if she were to find out I had snuck out, I might as well get a kiss out of it all.

  I must have surprised William, because at first he stepped back a little, as though he didn’t want to risk losing his chance by being too forward, but when I stayed put, my chin raised, he smiled softly, and then his hand did come towards my face. For the other reason this time. And as his fingers lightly brushed my tingling cheek, I sighed, and then his lips became one with mine.

  From that moment on, my heart was his, and his was mine.

  Until they were no more.

  ‘Oh, Grandma,’ Olivia said, ‘what a magical evening that must have been.’

  ‘Life isn’t always magical,’ she said, ‘but there are magical moments in life, if you let them in.’

  I want to let them in, Olivia thought. I want to feel that magic with someone. I want to climb out a window and step into a fairytale … But she knew in this day and age things were different, people were different, and life was different. Those old days seemed more conducive to romance and fairytales and magic.

  Mia approached the bed. ‘Look, Mrs May, I wrote you a letter.’

  Mrs May’s eyes opened a little wider, and despite the grey shadows arching across the lined skin under them, her eyes still held a youthful sparkle, perhaps the faint glimmer of the memories of that night, her mind remembering what her eyes had seen, what her heart had felt.

  Olivia peered across the bed where Mia placed the paper.

  Dear Mrs May,

  You like letters, so here is one.

  I hope you have a wonderful day, Mrs May! I like rhyming. Do you?

  I also like unicorns. And books about unicorns.

  Do you think unicorns are real? Maybe they live in Heaven. If you meet one, can you say hi to it for me? If I meet one in real life, I’ll say hi to it for you.

  I like writing letters. I will write more letters. They are fun. And you are fun too.

  Love, Mia.

  Mrs May had to squint, but Olivia got Mia to read it out for her. Her grandmother smiled and held out her hand towards Mia who took it, then cuddled up alongside her.

  ‘It’s a wonderful letter, my darling girl,’ she said. ‘Promise me you’ll keep writing them? Not to me, but to anyone, all throughout your life.’

  ‘I will.’ Mia nodded. ‘Maybe I could even write a letter to a unicorn!’ She giggled.

  ‘Will you write one to me?’ Olivia asked.

  ‘But I see you every day. We can talk.’

  ‘Ohh.’ Olivia pouted and crossed her arms.

  ‘My dear,’ said Mrs May. ‘Even if you see someone every day, never forget to cherish them. That is how you keep the magic in your life, you always make an effort to love them more than you think is possible. And there is always more. Love grows, if you let it.’

  ‘Does that mean I have to write my mum letters to show her I love her?’

  ‘Sweetie, you don’t have to,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s just one way that a person can tell someone how they feel. You being you is always enough for me.’ She came around the side of the bed and placed an arm around her daughter.

  ‘But there is something special about a letter,’ said Mrs May. ‘Especially this one.’ She lifted the paper slightly.

  Mia looked at Olivia. ‘I will write one for you, Mum. I just have to think of something.’

  ‘Then I look forward to it.’ Olivia went back around the other side of the bed and turned off the recorder, grasped her handbag and placed it inside. ‘Maybe you can hide the letter and I have to find it.’

  ‘Oh!’ Mia’s finger shot up in the air. ‘Like a treasure hunt?’

  ‘Yes!’ Which reminded her of Joel’s impending treasure hunt he was supposedly going to create for her. What kind of man did things like that anyway? She shook her head in awe. Maybe there was more magic brewing in her life than she realised. And treasure hunt or no treasure hunt, writing this book was becoming one of its own.

  They gathered their things and said goodbye, and on the way to the door, Mrs May called out, ‘Mia?’ Olivia and Mia turned to look towards the bed. Mrs May smiled and waved. ‘I believe in unicorns.’

  Chapter 16

  Olivia yawned as she picked up her coffee mug and took a quick gulp. She didn’t drink much coffee but needed it today, after staying up way too late the night before listening to May’s recollections of her night at Lookout Point, and writing more of Memories of May.

  ‘Mum, you have food on your face.’

  ‘Huh, I do?’ Olivia scanned her reflection as she peered at the mirror in the hall. ‘Oh, so I do.’ She wiped it away. ‘Anyway, we better get somebody off to school, time is getting away from us!’

  She handed Mia her schoolbag, grabbed her handbag, took one last gulp of coffee, and headed out the door.

  ‘Mum,’ said Mia, calmly, as though they weren’t running late. ‘How does time get away from us? Doesn’t it just stay the same?’

  ‘No, well, yes. But … Oh, sweetie, not now, Mummy’s brain is not working quite well enough to answer tricky questions. Let’s talk more after school.’

  ‘But you’re going to your class tonight.’

  ‘That’s right. You have a good memory. Sometime after my class then.’

  ‘But it’ll be my
bedtime and I’ll be tired and so will you.’

  ‘That is true.’ They hopped in the car and Olivia started the engine, almost reversing into the garage door she had forgotten to open. She pressed the button on the key and tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as it rolled up slowly. ‘And that is how time gets away,’ Olivia chuckled. ‘We get too busy and we think we run out of time, but really we are just silly nincompoops for doing too much and letting ourselves get too busy and making it seem like time is getting away.’

  Mia laughed. ‘Nincompoops!’ She laughed again. ‘I’m going to call my friends nincompoops and make them laugh today.’

  Olivia reversed out and turned onto the road. ‘Maybe you can write your nincompoop friends a letter.’ She grinned and shook her head at this silly morning.

  ‘Ha!’ Another laugh exploded from Mia’s mouth. ‘Dear Nincompoop, you’re a nincompoop. From your best Nincompoop. Ha-ha-ha!’ Olivia glanced in the rear-view mirror at her daughter’s rosy-cheeked face in fits of laughter.

  They arrived at school and when Olivia handed Mia her schoolbag, she noticed it felt lighter than usual. She zipped it open. ‘Ah, crap.’ Mia’s lunchbox was missing.

  ‘Mum, isn’t that a bad word?’

  ‘What? No, not really. But don’t say it at school.’

  ‘So it must be a bad word, otherwise I could say it. Crap, crap, crap!’ Mia giggled, and a mother passing by with a kindergarten child glared at her.

  She felt like saying, ‘What? At least I didn’t say something worse.’

  ‘C’mon, Mia, no time to waste. Let’s get you inside. I’ll have to drive back home to get your lunchbox, bring it back in for you, okay?’

  ‘What if you don’t get back by lunchtime?’ Mia looked genuinely worried. ‘That would really be crap.’

  ‘Honey, I will be right back, fifteen minutes at the most.’ Then she would have to race to the store to open up.

  After shuffling her daughter through the small crowd of waist-height little humans through the door to the classrooms, she returned to the car, drove home, grabbed Mia’s lunch, then went to go back outside to where she’d parked on the driveway, but something made her stop. Just for a moment, she stopped, breathed and stood still. Would the world fall apart if she took this brief moment? Would time get away from her, as she’d explained to Mia, and everything would be a disaster? Or would it be a disaster anyway and she might as well take this brief moment to have a moment of peace within the disaster? See, even in her brief moment of peace she was overthinking and worrying. She breathed again, wondered what would happen if she simply sat on the couch, put on a movie, and did nothing but veg out all day until school pick-up time. Life would still go on. Maybe it wouldn’t be a disaster. But she would lose income from the store. She had to go. And she had to deliver Mia’s lunch. Her hand reached for the doorknob but the window at the side of the house caught her eye. Here she was, late-thirties, and she had never once climbed out a window. Wasn’t that something that every child or teenager should have done at least once? Or was that only in movies, and her grandma’s past?