‘I know another way to tickle your toes.’
She started at the sound of his voice.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask the same of you.’
‘I’m escaping.’
‘Well, I heard there are young females unattended in the commons so I thought I would offer my protection.’
‘From what’?
‘I could be a stalker who waited outside your class and silently followed you off campus to a secluded place’.
‘That sounds more realistic, but do stalkers wear OP shorts and flip flops?’
‘Could be. Better be careful. One never knows who’s lurking in the area.
He tossed his Jansport bag onto the grass spilling out Advanced Economic Theory and Principals of Industrial Societies textbooks as he dropped onto the grass beside her.
‘Stop humming. I was sleeping, and you are disturbing what was a delightful nap.’
‘Can’t help it. Got the new song Rhiannon from Fleetwood Mac in my head. You know they’re playing at the Fenway next month? That chick, Stevie Nicks, who joined the band is hot.’
‘Why would I go to a concert to watch you drooling over some other female?’
'Hey, I know you have a serious Jones for Lindsey Buckingham so you will be watching him all night.’
‘Aren’t they a couple? Lindsey and Stevie?’
‘Naa, I heard he was gay.’
‘Oh, stop. You just don’t like to admit other guys are attractive to me! Actually, it would be great to see them but aren’t they playing on the 5th?’
‘Could be, it’s a Tuesday night.’
‘That’s the night before my paper for Morrison’s class is due. I haven’t even started it. In usual fashion I will be burning the midnight oil that night.’
He propped himself on one elbow and glanced over at her.
‘Well, perhaps I could assist with the research. We could start this afternoon.’
‘Research? Today? How?’
‘Yeh, I could help you understand what inspired Wyett’s The Berry Picker.’
‘Oh, please tell me you brought blueberries.’
‘Sorry, not in season yet. No, I was thinking more about understanding what left her with such a satisfied look on her face.’
‘Ha Ha! Very funny. You’re probably thinking about Titiano’s Sleeping Venus.’
‘Wasn’t the same premise used by Wyeth? Never the less, we should test the theory about pointing toes and pleasure.’
He rolled over next to her feet and took one of her toes into his mouth.
She abruptly sat upright and jerked her foot away from his lips.
‘Hey what are you doing?’
‘Continuing what the tender grass started, tickling your toes.’
‘I have a better idea,’ she swirled around to face him. ‘Start at this end.’
She leaned over to kiss his lips. He pulled her in close and ran his fingers through her thick mane of auburn hair. Breaking apart she rubbed her wet lips.
‘Not sure if your Shaggy from Scooby Doo impersonation will cut it in the business world. You’re going to have to learn to shave.’
‘That’s okay; we will live off the sale of your paintings so I won’t have to work.’
‘Hope I get better than this,’ she lifted up her blank sketch page.
‘You’re right; you do need to get better than that. Economists don’t make much money drawing graphs for utility companies. Unless I get a Phd. You just need some inspiration. Here let me help.’
He brushed her hair back from her shoulder and pulled her back to his lips.
Putting her hands on his chest she pushed back. ‘Trev, promise me one thing?’
‘What’s that’?
‘It will always be this way?’
‘What sleeping in the park skipping art history classes?’
‘Aaaahh,’ she groaned, ‘you’re such a twerp!’ pounding her fists on his chest.
………………………….
Thunder rumbled in the background as she topped the stairs, laundry basket overfilled in her arms. She gasped discovering the patio doors stood wide open with heavy rain pelting into the den.
‘Trevor!’ She shouted. ‘Trevor, I asked you to check the windows ages ago.’
The basket dropped to the floor sending freshly pressed clothes scattering as she kicked Little Tykes play men out of the way.
‘Please tell me you closed the umbrella after dinner.’
She added a disgusted sigh seeing the orange and white canvas perform an awkward CanCan dance in syncopation with the wind. She kicked off her slippers and dashed across the stone patio. Using both arms together gradually she managed to crank the umbrella back to its upright soldier position. Back inside, she pulled the doors closed and shook out her pony tail.
‘Hey, sorry. Paul paged me so I called him back.’ He was standing in the doorway to the converted spare bedroom-come-office tucked next to the kitchen at the end of hallway.
She spun around at the sound of his voice.
‘Don’t just stand there! Get a towel and help mop up the water. It’s ruining the wood floors.’
He joined her on the floor with cotton tea towels from the kitchen.
‘Paul was finally able to set up a meeting with Baxter. We’ve been trying to get in there for months. This could be a big deal for us. We needed to sequence the order of the slides before we prep Sanford in the morning.’
‘And, you couldn’t hear the thunder? Or see it raining outside?’ Her voice was rising.
‘Yes, well, I thought the call would just take a second. I didn’t realize how long we were talking. Look, the floors will be fine.’
A sudden bolt of lightning flashed an eerie blue glow into the room. Seconds’ later thunder exploded overhead resonating through loose window frames and the china closet causing them both to jump.
He offered a weak smile. ‘Look, the call was important. ’
Gill stopped buffing the floor and leaned back on her heels. ‘The call was important?’ she repeated. Rising to her feet she put her hands on her hips. ‘The call was important.’ She drew each syllable out with bitterness. ‘And, what about this?’ she waved her arms around her. ‘When did this stop being important?’
Trevor pulled to his feet and grabbed her arm. ‘Gillian, stop. You’re over-reacting. Sanford will be retiring soon so a shot at Operations Director is important to me.’
She pulled her arm back as though scalded. ‘And, this isn’t? I thought this was important to both of us.’
Another flash lit the room with the deafening thunder following on its heels.
‘Mommy, I’m scared.’ A tiny voice called from the top of the staircase.
‘Emily, what are you doing out of bed?’ Gill returned with surprise.
‘The big boomers scared me.’
‘Yes, it is a loud storm. The thunder is scary.’ She answered with a weary flatness.
‘I’ll keep you company ‘til it’s over.’
The obnoxious trill of his pager sounded.
‘I know; you have to respond to that.’ She looked at the flashing device in his hand.
A new cry from came upstairs. ‘Mommy, Andrew is crying.’
‘And, I have to respond to this.’ Gillian turned nodding toward the stairs, ‘Emily, let’s go see your brother.’
Trevor hesitated momentarily as he glanced at the number on the vibrating device in his hand.
‘Gillian, wait,’ he pleaded. ‘It won’t always be like this.’ He looked up to see she was already half way up the stairs.
…………………………………………………
Moments after the stick skimmed the surface of the stagnant water the dog grasped it in his mouth and jumped back onto tow path.
‘No Trev, not in the canal! He’ll have us both soaked and muddy.’ Her complaint registered too late, as the Bay retriever deposited the prized stick at their feet. Moments later a spray of water rained over them both.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ She brushed the water from her jeans and sweater. ‘I just washed these jeans,’ she added with a hint of irritation.
‘Good Dog!’ he praised while wiping his glasses, hoping to lighten the mood.
‘Good Dog? Really? He’s worse than a toddler. And, you encourage him.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Perhaps…mmm…or more like, exactly.’
‘Okay, we could have been more diligent.’
‘We? I love how suddenly disciplining the dog was a joint obligation. You wanted the dog so the kids would understand the responsibility of taking care of a pet.’
‘Which, of course, was exactly what happened.’
‘Funny man. Who ended up responsible for Spooner?’
‘Yes, well.’ He reached for her hand, ‘And, see how well behaved he is?’
She rolled her eyes and dropped her hand by her side.
They walked in silence for several minutes as the dog chased invisible predators through dry leaves. Yelping ahead on the path he asked for attention. Trevor answered by raising the stick overhead and releasing far down the gravel walk. A flurry of red, yellow and orange leaves jumped into the air when the stick struck the ground. The retriever loped rapidly in search.
‘Do you think all the boxes will fit in the car?’
‘Trevor, we’ve done this before; we’ll squeeze them in somehow.’
‘Do you think Douglas is really ready?’
‘It’s time for him to step out on his own and find out.’
‘Yes, but what if this isn’t the right time?’
Gillian eyed the aggressive river on the opposite side of the path. Looking ahead, she burst out, ‘Am I missing something? This isn’t the first time we’ve taken a child to university. Why suddenly, the extra concern?’
‘Not extra concern – just well - this time could be more difficult,’ he stumbled out.
‘More difficult? For whom? You? Or for Douglas?’
‘Sure, for me. Or, for you, actually? Or well, I didn’t know so thought we should talk,’
She stopped and sighed heavily, ignoring his comment. A shift in the wind sent leaves pirouetting about them resettling into rust colored piles. She shivered slightly in the coolness and pulled her heavy cable sweater tighter around her. Her lips were pursed into her usual frown. She turned to face him.
‘You’re worried about me. Aren’t you?’
‘Yes, it’ll be a change.’
He felt awkward in her gaze and glanced down at his shoes. His hesitation for words was broken by the eager retriever seeking praise. Once again the prized stick was deposited at their feet.
‘Gillian?’ he ventured cautiously.
‘Trevor,’ she responded abruptly.
‘Okay, I don’t know what to say but life is going to be different with all the kids gone. The empty nest, the change of life. I hear it’s a struggle for some women.’
‘Goodness, where did this come from? Have you been reading Vanity Fair or Women’s Day magazine?’
‘Gillie, please, I’m trying.’
‘Sorry, just my usual pessimism.’ She walked ahead of him.
He quickened his pace to catch her.
‘Gill, there was a time when nothing else seemed to matter to you. Then after a while it seemed nothing mattered at all.’ His voice carried a bit of frailty.
‘Yes, there was a time.’ She said vacantly, her eyes squinted, as though focusing on an object far in the distance.
She ran her fingers through her sharply cropped hair and inhaled deeply. ‘And, now it is a new time.’ She looked back toward him and offered a weak smile. ‘With new possibilities. Sort of like a new sketch book.’
He looked up surprised and rushed toward her. An over eager Spooner reached him first sending glasses flying as the dog tackled him on the tow path.
‘Missing these, Superman?’ She twirled the horn rims in front of him. ‘I like your Clark Kent look. Or should I say Poindexter?’
‘Clever, can I have my glasses back?’
‘I know you can’t see much without them. Time for Lasic surgery, maybe?’
Brushing dust from his knees he asked, ‘Gill, did you mean what you said about the sketch book?’
‘Actually, yes. In fact, I went to the art store last week. I’d forgotten what new oil pastels and canvas smell like.’
‘This is great. I’m so relieved.’ He quickly blurted out. ‘Oh wait, that didn’t come out right.’
‘It’s okay. I haven’t been that easy lately. Just to warn you, I probably spent too much money. But, I figured it’s cheaper than a therapist.’
‘I really am pleased to hear you say this. It’s been much too long.’
‘You may not be so pleased when I turn your office into my studio.’
‘Well, we’ll see about that.’
‘Actually, Trev, you’re right. It’s time to see what it will be like.’
Suddenly, she slapped her thigh and took off at a sprint. ‘Come on Spooner. Race you to the next lock!’ Without hesitation, the curly brown dog obliged with stick in mouth chasing at her heels.
…………………………………………………………………………………
The impatient shrill of the tea kettle shouted from the kitchen.
‘Are you getting that?’ she called with urgency from the family room.
He was leaning over the sink, staring out the frosted window.
‘It’s really coming down outside. They missed the mark on this one. Must be at least six inches already and isn’t slowing.’
‘The kettle, Trev, the kettle!’
‘I know, I know. It’s not going anywhere.’
The shrieking faded in the background replaced with clatter of spoon and dishware.
‘Definitely more than the two inches predicted. Did you say green or peppermint?’
‘Actually, I asked for ginger tea. With honey.’
‘With honey, for my Honey.’
He placed the steaming mug on the coffee table beside scattered sections of the Sunday Post.
‘If the snow keeps up, we could be snowed in by morning.’ He propped his feet on the table and returned to the open Ambrose volume on the arm of the couch.
‘Is it really getting bad out?’ She dropped the crossword on the cushion and went to the French doors. ‘I don’t have any milk and I need endive for the salad. We should go to the store.’
‘Why? We rarely use milk and open a can of peaches instead of making a salad tonight.’ He answered without looking up.
‘Anna is supposed to come by for lunch on Tuesday. With this snow she won’t be able to get out of her driveway.’
‘I’ll have Doug send Charles over to shovel her drive after school. After doing ours first, of course.’
‘Charles will want to get paid.’
‘So, he’s a clever teenager with good business sense. Like his Grandfather.’
She moved into the kitchen and took up his former position at the window.
‘Do you think the snow will cause problems for Andrew and Sally’s flight?’
‘Gill, Their flight is two weeks away. I’m sure Reagan National will have the runways plowed by then.’
Gillian was drumming her fingers on the counter.
‘Your tea is getting cold.’
She retrieved the cup and returned to her station in front of the French doors.
‘Staring out the windows will not make it stop snowing.’
‘I know,’ she replied absently. ‘They probably won’t pick up the recycling tomorrow,’ she added anxiously.
He looked up from his book.
‘Gillian, I am going to get some construction paper and crayons and put you at the kitchen table.’
‘I’m being a worrywart, right?’
‘Yes,’ he barked. ‘No, actually worse. There is plenty of wood for the fire. And, you said there’s onion soup in the freezer.’
‘And, some left over lasagna, too.’
‘So stop worrying about the snow and come finish the crossword.’
With a heavy sigh, she flopped onto the couch beside him and put her head on his shoulder.
‘Where are we going to put everyone over the holidays? We’ve never had all the grandkids here at once.’
‘Doug said he would take Emily’s boys.’
‘Actually, I told Doug he would take Peter and Sam. They can deal with four teenage boys at their house.’
‘We’ll put her twins in sleeping bags in the basement.’
‘No, Trev, it’s too cold down there. The girls can sleep in the office. Besides they’re only seven. The basement might be scary.’
She began flexing the fingers of her right hand. ‘And, we’ll set up the portable crib so the baby can sleep in the room with Andrew and Sally.’
‘So, you already worked out where we’ll put everyone over the holidays.’
‘I guess.’
She winced slightly as she uncurled her fingers.
‘Bad today?’ he asked.
‘Cold and damp always make it worse.’
‘Here,’ he took her hand in his. ‘Let me do that,’ gently massaging her swollen knuckles.
He lifted her fingers close to his eyes. ‘Yep, there is still paint under your cuticles.’
She jerked her hand away and examined her fingertips. ‘There is not. I used the nail brush.’
‘I’m joking. I like your hands covered with charcoal dust or smudged with ink. And, linseed oil makes a lovely perfume.’
‘What if they have to postpone the opening because of the show?’
‘Ah, so that’s what is really bothering you.’
‘You know I always worry in advance. What if no one can make it?’
‘The opening isn’t until Friday. We’ll worry about it on Thursday. Besides, the formal opening is after the holidays anyway. The snow will be gone by then.’
‘But, the press might not get to preview it in advance.’
‘What the Montgomery County Journal? C’mon, Frank loves your stuff. He can practically phone in a review without seeing it.’
He took off his wireframe glasses and rubbed his eyes. Taking up her hands again he looked into her worried face.
‘I’m sure this show will be as successful as all the others. Maybe this time you’ll actually sell one.’
‘Hey, watch it buddy,’ she pushed his hands away and smacked the top of his head. ‘I sold four paintings at the last one. Check out my website, I have lots of followers.’
With another loud sigh, she sank back against his shoulder once more.
‘That makes two heavy sighs. What’s up?’
‘Trev,’ she looked up at him. ‘Did you always think it would be like this? All those years ago? Boston U seems so far away now.’
He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her grey head. ‘Yes, Gillie, I knew it would be exactly like this.’
—Gretchen Du Peza
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