MAGPIE (11 page)

DANIEL: Not really, no

MAGS: U fucking with me?

DANIEL: Nope

MAGS: U falling for me?

DANIEL: In a way

MAGS: What way?

DANIEL: No strings, no baggage, nothing to get in the way

MAGS: Kinda like a hooker?

DANIEL: In a good way

MAGS: How can that be good?

DANIEL: Turn it around, Mags, what do u like about it?

I thought about Daniel’s question for a minute, drafting a mental note about what I liked about our arrangement: no commitment, no pressure, no love lost…

MAGS: The same kinds of things

DANIEL: So it’s real

MAGS: Like vacant lot in a strip mall

DANIEL: Huh?

MAGS: I think of a vacant parking lot when I think of us

DANIEL: Getting philosophical are we?

MAGS: Nope, that’s the way my mind works

DANIEL: Vacant lots are open to anything, inviting

MAGS: They collect trash, bird shit and vagrants

DANIEL: Whoa! u r in a mood

MAGS: Ya, prob not the best time to talk

DANIEL: Could be a great time to fuck

MAGS: Text me in 10, gunna finish wine and get naked

Tonight, I’d fill our lot with a Cirque du Soleil tent, overflowing with passionate colors, textures, sounds and sensations. Tomorrow, I’d sweep the trash and shoo the vagrants, leaving the lot as empty as I first found it.

***

The two weeks with Timmy and Lisbeth flew by. We played board games, painted birdhouses, hung paper lanterns throughout the yard, and stole a few lazy afternoons, swinging gently on the hammock. We ventured beyond the house, too, enjoying picnic dinners at Wash Park, riding borrowed bikes along the Cherry Creek Path, and hiking a couple of beginners’ trails at a nearby state park. Two days before they departed, Katie and I packed a cooler full of goodies and surprised the twins with a day at Water World, a water amusement park just northwest of Denver. We had a blast and came home with rosy cheeks and permanent smiles brushed across our faces. We hung out in the backyard the day before they were scheduled to leave. The twins snuggled with Cody while I read a magazine. I was getting anxious to get back to work, though I’d managed to stay on top of my emails and voice messages after the twins went to bed each night.

A bank of clouds descended on the neighborhood the next morning, intensifying the sadness that seeped into the house. Carrie’s new beau, Harry, created a new dynamic in her family, and I feared I would be pushed out. Two or three times a year would probably become once, most likely in summer, so the newlyweds could sneak away to enrich their budding relationship. Still, I was happy my grandkids would have a stepdad. I hoped that over time, I would get over my bitterness and accept the gift of any time with my grandkids, no matter how infrequent.

Getting the house back to normal after the twins left proved to be more work than I’d expected. I decided to leave it until the weekend and opened my laptop to check out what movies were playing at a nearby theater. First, however, I glanced at my email and noticed a few messages from Match.com. Apparently, several men liked my photos and made me their “favorite.” I clicked on the link and saw it was all the same guy…holy shit! A forty-eight year old was hitting on me. Curious about “Justaguy5280,” I read his message,

Dear MGroadie,

You MUST tell me what your profile name stands for! I’m dying to know… Anyway, you’re probably annoyed with my various attempts at getting your attention. Hoping this old school message works!

I found your profile so refreshing – real pictures, real stories, real life. I wish you knew what your competition’s profiles were like. Actually, they aren’t your competition – you stand apart from all the rest. I’m sorry about the loss of your husband, but I have to say, you seem so happy and content with life. You must have worked through it with such a positive attitude. Would love to know your secret to happiness!

I have two kids. I started fairly young and they are both in college. Only a year apart—a boy and a girl—they both attend Northwestern. They come home to Colorado periodically, particularly when they need money. Other than that, I have a dog, Fresno, a mutt who is ancient but is still hanging in there. I have my own business, which provides the means to have a little fun on the side. I work out of my house and love it – what can I say? I lucked out, professionally anyway.

I’m an extrovert, can you tell?

I know you’re thinking I’m too young, but I would just ask you to consider having dinner. If, after that, you are convinced you can’t afford childcare, then we’ll shake hands and part ways.

Warmly,

Greg

Before I could begin to craft a response, I quickly glanced at his profile,

I’m a pretty down to earth guy. I love the outdoors and feel most at home when I’m enjoying nature. I enjoy white water rafting, camping, biking, rock climbing, fishing and golf (just learning!)

I enjoy working with my hands around the yard and house, remodeling and landscaping. I’m not a contractor but my dad and uncle taught me well.

Love going to the movies, out for dinner and drinks, dancing, grilling in the back yard definitely with a beer in one hand and my girl in the other – LOL!

I’m hoping to find my best friend and confidant, someone I can share my deepest feelings and fears with, as well as my strengths and aspirations.

I’m not looking for perfection, but I am looking for a woman who can love openly, play fully, and live authentically.

Like me, Greg was a Colorado native. He enjoyed the same things I did, though I realized I hadn’t done anything on my list of activities since last fall. I
could
thank Greg for the nice note and leave it at that, but something pressed me to respond further. The last time I contemplated an online relationship was with Daniel, which hadn’t turned out too badly. We’d constructed a virtual world insulated from the day-to-day bullshit that hampers “real” relationships. Despite our ups and downs, Daniel and I had managed to become close, thoroughly enjoying our digital time together. I wondered if I could apply the same approach to a local relationship. I answered Greg with more than a polite “thank you,” and wrote,

Dear Greg,

I was tempted to send you a “thank you, but” note and decided against it. You had me at “not looking for perfection…” jk! Don’t know if you noticed, but we enjoy some of the same activities. You’ve reminded me, however, that I haven’t been up to the hills since last fall. Movies are my favorite urban activity and, to be honest, I was just thinking about catching one when your message popped up. Haven’t been in a while. Would you like to know why? Wait for it… I’m a grandmother and have been spoiling my twin grandkids for the past few weeks. Did you see how I slipped the white elephant in ever so gently?!

Still, I’m going out on a limb by saying “yes” to your suggestion for dinner. Why not cut to the chase, meet for a nice meal, and see if six years really means that much at our age. I’ll hold off sharing other factoids about me to ensure crickets don’t invade our space at dinner.

BTW, profile name is uneventful: “MG” are my initials and “roadie” signifies my love of road trips.

Warmer than you,

Maggie (given name, not short for anything)

Not expecting a reply for at least a day, I opened a new tab and searched Fandango for a nearby movie. I’d heard about “World War Z” and, quite frankly, needed to zone out. There was a showing at 8:20, just five or so minutes away. I didn’t have time to shower, so I washed my face, smoothed my tousled curls and grabbed a cardigan. I would barely make it, so I moved quickly out the door and hopped into Beater.

“Bye, buddy boy,” I yelled to Cody as I pulled out, noticing I hadn’t turned the porch light on.

Luck was on my side; I pulled into a close parking space just as an older couple pulled out. I hurried to the ticket window and held up one finger to the clerk who sat behind a thick slab of glass. I took the stairs two at a time so I could snag a bag of popcorn and fill my water bottle with warm tap water. I wasn’t concerned about missing the trailers…I wanted an aisle seat.

The theater was freezing, and I was glad I’d brought a sweater. For the next two hours, I sat transfixed at images of ravenous zombies. Oddly, I could relate to the creatures on the screen: clinically dead, but driven by a diseased, primordial need to suck the vitality out of the living. Is that was I was doing? Was sex a mechanism to breathe life into an otherwise inanimate soul? I brushed those musings away and tossed a Milk Dud in my mouth.

The movie was a good escape, but I was glad to leave the stale air and walk into the cool night breeze. Fatigue was seeping into my body, and I desperately wanted to get home, strip off my clothes, slip into my thin cotton nightie, and hit the sack. As I turned into my driveway, I heard Cody barking, which was odd because, as he eased into old age, his need to bark at things that tickled his senses waned.

I brought Beater to a stop and turned off the ignition. Reaching for the door handle, I jumped when heard a knock on my driver’s side window. Looking through the glass, I noticed a hand holding a bottle of beer—it was Brett’s.

I considered getting out but saw that he was seriously drunk. He staggered back, thinking I was going to get out of the car, which gave me time to think. If I drove off, Cody would be in danger—he was still barking at the side gate. If I stayed, I would be.

Rolling down my window, I said, “Brett, you’re drunk. Please leave. Nothing good will come of this.” Simultaneously, I texted Katie and asked her to come over ASAP.

Slurring terribly, Brett managed to get out three words before he fell backward, “Mags, Mags, Mags!” His beer bottle shattered as he hit the ground.

I ignored him, hoping like hell Katie would pull up any time. Seconds later, I saw headlights in my rearview mirror, recognizing Katie’s Mini Cooper pulling in behind me. I noticed two silhouettes in the car, one much larger than the other. She’d brought her neighbor, Tyler, a former college ball player whose size meant everything to me now. They both stepped out, Katie hanging back and letting Tyler manage the scene.

“Come on, dude, why don’t we get out of here. Called you a taxi already, we don’t want any trouble, okay?” Tyler had a surprisingly soft voice, and thankfully, it was working.

Brett struggled to get to his feet, and as Tyler walked him to the cab that had just arrived, he yelled out to me, “Love you, babe!”

Katie grabbed my car door and ushered me into the house. I was shaken and needed to sit down. I really didn’t think Brett had come to harm me, but drunk as he was, anything was possible.

“Here honey, have some water,” Katie handed me a glass. I looked at it and asked for a glass of wine instead. “Let me pour three.”

As she poured the third, Tyler stepped through the door, shaking his head and wringing his hands as if he’d just disposed of a stinking rodent. We sat at the breakfast bar, silently considering a more ominous ending to this peculiar story. Katie and Tyler finished their wine, gave a swift hug and left.

I was drained and glad to finally be alone. I got up to take a hot bath. Soaking in lavender and vanilla salts, I began to cry; wasn’t sure why, and I didn’t care. I let loose, feeling the strain of the day—and last few years—wash away. After a bit, I pulled myself out of the tepid water, eager to crawl into bed. Before I could turn the light out, a text came through. I looked over at my phone buzzing on my nightstand and saw Daniel’s name. I had the strongest urge to respond and didn’t hesitate to satisfy it,

Today, 11:02 PM

DANIEL: U r up!

MAGS: Ya, bad night

DANIEL: Bad date?

MAGS: Can I call?

DANIEL: Pls do

Daniel answered on the first ring, “Hey Mags, what’s going on?”

I couldn’t even spit out one work before I started sobbing.

He gently murmured, “It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to say a word, just stay on the line with me, I’m here. I’m here…”

I fell asleep with my phone to my ear, listening to Daniel tell stories of his work, flying to exciting cities around the world in search of the sexiest tennis story ever written. I giggled as he spoke, not sure if he was serious or being a joker. It didn’t matter; he made me laugh, enticing me into his world, if just for the night. I needed this virtual vacation, and I boarded the plane with no bags of any kind.

CHAPTER 6

August’s Embers

A
ugust was a blur. I’d packed more into the past four months than I had into the last four years; I needed some serious down time. After the twins went back to California, I spent time catching up at work. The remaining hours were devoted to tending my gardens, guarding them from the scorching summer sun with plenty of water, soil amendments and a generous dose of TLC. I’d buried the incident with Brett in the part of my brain that holds the rest of my demons. How I wished memories were tangible; those of Brett would be stuffed in Cody’s dog shit bag and sent off to the landfill with the rest of the city’s putrid waste.

Greg wrote me back a few days after the Brett debacle. Funny and sweet, he said,

Maggie,

Your warmth flows like the rays of our beautiful Colorado sun! (Too sappy?) What movie did you end up seeing? Perhaps your critique can be the icebreaker on our first date… Then you can disclose your factoids (Why, oh why does that word conjure a medical condition that is not suitable for conversation?)

You bring out my own mischief, Maggie, and I really like that about you. Heck, if you can do that in writing, what can you do in person?

So, shoot me a couple of your favorite places and I’ll do the rest. Do you suppose this is a good time to share personal contact info?

With radical coolness,

Greg

p.s. Don’t go running off on a road trip without me!

I didn’t have any interest in going out with Greg or anyone else, at least for the time being. I wrote him back a few days later,

Hi Greg,

You are too much! I chuckled when I read your message – thanks for a much needed laugh.