Summer Friends (25 page)

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Authors: Holly Chamberlin

BOOK: Summer Friends
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46
1984
 
Delphine and Maggie sat side by side on a bench in the Public Garden. It was mid-day and the April sun was surprisingly warm. Maggie was watching a family of tourists stroll by, two parents, a grandmother, and three teens, one sullen, one semisullen, the third and youngest plugged into his Walkman, singing aloud, oblivious to his siblings' moods. Delphine was looking down at her clasped hands.
“I have something to tell you,” Delphine said finally.
“Okay.” Maggie tried to smile but couldn't. “I figured something was up when you asked me to go for a walk. Since when do we just go for a walk unless it's on the beach?”
Delphine continued to look down at her hands. “I ended things with Robert.”
“You what?” It was the last thing Maggie expected to hear. The very last thing.
“I broke up with him. I gave him back his ring.”
Maggie looked to Delphine's left hand as if for confirmation. “Oh, my God!” she cried. “Why? I can't believe this is happening. What went wrong? My heart is racing. Please don't tell me he cheated on you.”
“No, no, nothing like that. He didn't do anything. It's me. I just . . .”
“What?” Maggie pressed. “Don't tell me you're not in love with him because I just won't believe that. I can't believe that. I know things have been stressful and all, with exams coming up, but . . .”
Delphine didn't reply. Her decision had nothing to do with love or with exams. But she couldn't tell Maggie about the night of the protest, the realization, the epiphany she'd had. She wanted to tell her, but she just couldn't. “I'll be going back to Ogunquit for a while,” she said. “I need some time to clear my head.” That wasn't exactly the truth. In her heart she knew that she was returning home forever.
“Please, talk to me,” Maggie begged. “Let me help. Oh, my God, you must be feeling so awful.” Maggie wiped away her tears and reached for Delphine to give her a hug. Delphine scooted away. She couldn't bear to be touched right then. Maggie felt stunned by this rejection.
After a moment, she asked, “How is Robert taking this?”
“Okay. I mean, he was very upset.” Delphine paused as tears threatened to steal her voice. But she refused to cry, not now, not again. “But he's a strong person,” she said finally.
“I bet he's devastated. I'm sure you broke his heart.” Maggie didn't care if she was being cruel. She was angry with Delphine and hurt and confused and so very sad.
Delphine didn't answer. She had never felt so bad about something she was doing and at the same time so sure that what she was doing was right. It was like she was split in two inside. It hurt. It hurt to breathe.
Maggie sighed. “I have to know. Did you ever submit those applications for graduate school? Or did you just say that you did?”
“Why would I lie to you?” Delphine said. But she had lied and she knew why she had.
“Honestly, I don't know,” Maggie answered. “I'm your best friend. I've been your best friend since I was eight years old. But I have no idea what's going on with you anymore, or why you're doing the things you're doing.”
“I'm sorry,” Delphine said. “I'm sorry you're upset.”
“Are you?” Maggie snapped. “Did you tell Robert you were sorry? And if you did, was that a lie, too?”
No,
she thought.
It wasn't a lie. I am so very sorry.
Delphine got up from the bench, and without looking back to Maggie, she walked off in the direction of the dorm.
Maggie put her face in her hands and cried.
47
Delphine stood in the middle of her bedroom. The closet door was open, as were all the drawers in her dresser, except for the one in which Harry kept some clothing. She and Maggie wouldn't be leaving for Boston until the following Tuesday morning; mid-week hotel rates were cheaper. It was only Friday evening, but Delphine was determined to choose clothes now and avoid a last-minute crisis. Not that the process of choosing what to wear in Boston was going to be easy, even days in advance of their departure. Nothing, nothing she saw in a survey of her clothing looked appropriate for hanging out with fashionable Maggie in the city.
Maybe,
she thought,
I should have watched an episode or two of
Sex and the City.
Maybe,
she thought,
I should have bought that blouse Maggie wanted me to buy at Jones New York. Rats.
The home phone rang. Delphine turned her back on the disaster and went to the extension in the workroom. It was her mother.
Delphine listened. Her head began to buzz strangely.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I'll be there soon.”
Slowly, carefully, she replaced the receiver, then picked it up once again. She dialed Gorges Grant and was connected to Maggie's room.
“Maggie,” she said. “It's Delphine.”
“Hey. What's up? Your voice sounds . . . strangled or something. Is everything okay?”
Delphine couldn't speak for a moment. She wouldn't let herself cry, not now, or she might never stop. Finally, she said, “It's Kitty, my niece. She . . . We just got word that she has cancer.”
Maggie's grip on the phone suddenly tightened. “Oh, no, Delphine, I'm so sorry. How bad is it?” she asked. “Where is she going to go for treatment? Does she—”
“I don't know the details yet. But look, Maggie, I have to cancel the Boston trip. I'm sorry.”
“But . . . why? I mean . . .”
“I just have to.”
“Of course,” Maggie said after a moment. “I understand. Look, are you at home? Do you want me to come over? I could pick up some food and we could talk or—”
“No. Thanks. My mother needs me at the house.”
“Wait, Delphine—”
“Good-bye, Maggie. I'm sorry about the trip. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.”
“What?” Maggie suddenly felt nauseous. “Look, Delphine—”
But she had already disconnected the call.
48
At nine o'clock Saturday morning, Maggie left a message on Delphine's cell phone and one on her home phone. She debated calling Mrs. Crandall but decided that it was too soon after the family's terrible news. Delphine was the one she should be talking to.
Now it was only eleven a.m. Time was moving way too slowly. That or she wasn't moving quickly enough. Maggie grabbed her bag and without much of a conscious plan left the hotel. The sidewalks were teeming with tourists. The street was jammed with cars. Maggie was largely oblivious to everyone and everything.
She found herself outside the library.
Why not?
she thought. She went inside and found the librarian alone at the desk. The room had that familiar library hush, which could be so soothing or, in moments of tension like this one, so maddening.
“Hi, Nancy,” she said.
Nancy looked up from her computer and smiled. “Oh, hello. You're Delphine's friend. Maggie, is it?”
“Yes.” She attempted a smile in return but failed.
“How can I help you?” Nancy asked. “Are you here to find a particular book?”
“No, thank you,” she said. “I was just wondering if you had heard anything about Kitty Crandall.”
“Oh.” Nancy's expression darkened. “Well, nothing more than that the poor little girl is ill. I believe she has a form of leukemia. Glenda ran into Jackie earlier at the post office.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Nancy gave Maggie a slightly puzzled look. “Why don't you ask Delphine for more news? I'm sure she'll tell you all that's going on.”
“Yes,” Maggie said. “I should do that. I just didn't want to bother her. . . .”
Nancy reached out across the desk and patted Maggie's hand. “Why would you be a bother, dear? You're old friends. I'm sure you're a comfort to her.”
Maggie smiled, though she felt tears threatening. “Yes,” she said. “Well, thank you very much. I should be going.”
She walked back to the hotel, past souvenir shops, through throngs of people in shorts, flip-flops, and baseball caps. This time, she was brutally aware that most everyone she passed seemed happy, oblivious to the crisis at hand, to the local child who was facing months, maybe years, of pain and misery. She had an awful urge to shout out at them all, tell them to stop smiling and eating chocolate-covered blueberries and buying crappy souvenirs and to just listen. “A little girl is sick!” she wanted to shout. “And I don't know what to do!”
At Gorges Grant she picked up her car, and she drove out to the Burton brothers' store. Maybe they would know something more. Maybe they could do something; maybe they could help her to do something. She found Piers dusting a bust of an anonymous Roman woman. Aubrey, he explained, was away for the day on a buying trip.
“I hope there was no problem with the delivery of the painting,” Piers said when they had exchanged greetings.
Maggie felt momentarily stupid at having come. “Oh, no,” she said, “my housekeeper signed for it. It's safe and sound. I came because—Well, have you heard about Kitty Crandall?”
Piers's face immediately assumed an expression of great and genuine sympathy. “Oh, yes, it's such a shame. A sick child, and such a lovely little girl, too. Is there anything worse?”
“No,” Maggie said, “there isn't. Have you heard anything new? I mean, I talked briefly with Delphine last night, but she hasn't answered my calls all morning.”
Piers reached out, as Nancy had done earlier, and patted her arm. “She probably just needs some space right now. The Crandalls are a tight unit. They close ranks when things get difficult. But they'll get through this time of crisis. Try not to worry.”
Maggie attempted a smile. “Easier said than done, I'm afraid. But thank you, Piers.”
They said good-bye and Maggie got back into her car. She sat there for a moment, lost. She badly wanted to go out to the farm but had a strong instinct that it would be a very wrong thing to do just then. She had made enough wrong steps already this summer.
The rest of the afternoon was a trial of patience. She bought herself an expensive linen jacket she didn't really like and certainly didn't need. She ordered a salad at a restaurant and couldn't eat it. She wandered down to the beach, but the crowds tore at her nerves.
Finally, she went back to her hotel, where she decided to call Gregory. She wasn't at all sure she would reach him, or, if she did, that he would have the time to talk. But cut off from Delphine, she didn't know whom else to reach out to.
Gregory was available, but only for a few minutes, he said. She told him about Kitty and about Delphine's having canceled their overnight trip to Boston. “She wouldn't even talk to me,” she said. “She just hung up and she hasn't called me back today though I've left several messages.”
“Maggie,” Gregory replied, “she's probably in a bit of shock. I wouldn't take anything she does or says right now too seriously.”
“No, but it's so strange,” Maggie argued. “She said our trip to Boston was probably a bad idea all along. I don't know what's wrong with her. I don't know how to explain it. It's like her family is more important to her than absolutely anything else in the world, even her own self, her own needs.”
There was a beat of silence before Gregory finally spoke. “Okay. Uh, Maggie? What are you saying, exactly? That I should care more about you and the girls?”
“No, no, God, Gregory, this has nothing to do with you!” Maggie cried.
“Then . . . I'm sorry, I'm not really understanding why you're so upset. It's terrible about the little girl, of course. But I don't understand why someone's not calling you back immediately is affecting you so much.”
Maggie massaged her forehead. It did little to relieve the pain storm gathering there. “Forget it,” she said. “It's nothing. Look, sorry I called.”
“It's all right. Keep me posted. Do you think that you'll be coming home earlier than planned? I booked a golf trip for next weekend. And it looks like I won't be back from Chicago until Wednesday. There'll be plenty of privacy for you if you decide to head home now that Delphine's busy. You'll have the whole house to yourself.”
“Great,” she muttered.
“I have to go now, Maggie. Hang in there, okay?”
She said good-bye and ended the call. She went over to the window. The pregnant woman she had seen on the first morning of her stay at Gorges Grant was at the pool again, this time alone, reclining on a lounge, reading a book. Maggie had a crazy urge to go down to the pool and ask the woman if she could sit with her.
This is how lonely I feel,
she said to herself.
I would ask a total stranger for her company.
Maggie sighed and turned away from the window. It had been an awful day. She couldn't remember ever feeling so frustrated. She had to do something productive. She opened her laptop and went online to research childhood leukemia. She didn't have much information to go on in terms of the specifics of Kitty's situation, but information was power and if there was anything she could do to help Delphine and her family, she would. In spite of Delphine's best efforts to keep her out.

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