said, “I’ll come back. Please be patient.” The next morning Mary had gently awakened John with a kiss and they made love for the first time in months.
Mary never told him about the voice, even though he later questioned her. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, Mary,” he’d said. “I have you back. That’s the most important thing.”
She had grown used to the sensation of knowing. It didn’t frighten her. The feelings she got seemed benign – for herself, and for the person involved. Only good came from them.
A week ago Mary experienced what she called a power surge. It seemed to coincide with Madeleine’s arrival on Salmon Beach. She’d felt nothing that strong since 1961.
But as wonderful as the connection with Madeleine was, for the first time in her long life Mary Delfino felt apprehension. Not for herself, but for the daughter she thought had finally returned.
SUMMER
“…it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings,…”
A. Bartlett Giamatti
Journal Entry
June 22
Nomore blind dates. The next time I want to experience a night of horror, I’ll stay home and watch The X-Files.
I have Karen to thank for my latest scintillating evening. According to her, Bill was “perfect” for me. “He makes a lot of money, and he’s really into baseball.” She didn’t think to mention his passion for hunting. Or the fact that he has gray teeth. Or his inability to complete a sentence without adding “ya know” to the end of it.
My only consolation was we met at The Ram. TV’s suspended every three feet added to the roar of the Saturday night crowd. The decibel level ranked right up there with flying in the belly of a C-140. I didn’t say much. Just nodded and smiled, and watched the M’s game as if my life depended on it. We weren’t there ten minutes before I excused myself on the pretense of going to the bathroom. I hunted down our waitress, gave her all the money in my wallet and said, “How fast can you get us our food and the check?”
I thought I was home free when we went out the door, but he insisted on walking me to my car. I was just getting up the nerve to politely tell him we would never cross paths again when he actually moved in for a kiss. I was so shocked I froze. But when I felt his tongue on my clenched teeth, I pushed him and he fell against the car parked next to mine, which had a very loud alarm.
You’d think that would be enough for one night, but no. There was more humiliation in store for ol’ Maddy. Some guy walking through the parking lot on his way into the restaurant sees all this, stops about 20 feet away and yells, “Are you okay?” Well, I turn to say “yes,” and it’s Nick. Imagine my delight.
Nick and I have been cordial neighbors these past couple of months, and it’s killing me. We say hello, or wave, or talk about the weather. I’ve neglected my journal because of that simple fact. I’ve tried to pretend nothing happened between us, and in order to do that semi-successfully I work most of the day, and I’ve been playing the dating game as many nights as I can.
I’ve discovered a few things about myself, one of which is I have no idea how to ‘date’ anymore. If you’re not in college, or in the work force, where the hell do you go to meet people? I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, even here, but a few days after Nick committed his hit-and-run, I tried online dating. At first it was kinda scary and a lot exciting. But it got old pretty fast. The dates got to be like job interviews, and I seriously thought about writing up a resume because I got tired of telling the same stories over and over again.
For the most part the men were nice enough. It’s weird, though. The phone calls were always great, but the meetings were usually tedious. They talked endlessly about how their ex-wives had screwed them, or the problems they were having with their kids. Their jobs were as boring as mine.
But I did learn something
Mary never told him about the voice, even though he later questioned her. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, Mary,” he’d said. “I have you back. That’s the most important thing.”
She had grown used to the sensation of knowing. It didn’t frighten her. The feelings she got seemed benign – for herself, and for the person involved. Only good came from them.
A week ago Mary experienced what she called a power surge. It seemed to coincide with Madeleine’s arrival on Salmon Beach. She’d felt nothing that strong since 1961.
But as wonderful as the connection with Madeleine was, for the first time in her long life Mary Delfino felt apprehension. Not for herself, but for the daughter she thought had finally returned.
SUMMER
“…it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings,…”
A. Bartlett Giamatti
Journal Entry
June 22
Nomore blind dates. The next time I want to experience a night of horror, I’ll stay home and watch The X-Files.
I have Karen to thank for my latest scintillating evening. According to her, Bill was “perfect” for me. “He makes a lot of money, and he’s really into baseball.” She didn’t think to mention his passion for hunting. Or the fact that he has gray teeth. Or his inability to complete a sentence without adding “ya know” to the end of it.
My only consolation was we met at The Ram. TV’s suspended every three feet added to the roar of the Saturday night crowd. The decibel level ranked right up there with flying in the belly of a C-140. I didn’t say much. Just nodded and smiled, and watched the M’s game as if my life depended on it. We weren’t there ten minutes before I excused myself on the pretense of going to the bathroom. I hunted down our waitress, gave her all the money in my wallet and said, “How fast can you get us our food and the check?”
I thought I was home free when we went out the door, but he insisted on walking me to my car. I was just getting up the nerve to politely tell him we would never cross paths again when he actually moved in for a kiss. I was so shocked I froze. But when I felt his tongue on my clenched teeth, I pushed him and he fell against the car parked next to mine, which had a very loud alarm.
You’d think that would be enough for one night, but no. There was more humiliation in store for ol’ Maddy. Some guy walking through the parking lot on his way into the restaurant sees all this, stops about 20 feet away and yells, “Are you okay?” Well, I turn to say “yes,” and it’s Nick. Imagine my delight.
Nick and I have been cordial neighbors these past couple of months, and it’s killing me. We say hello, or wave, or talk about the weather. I’ve neglected my journal because of that simple fact. I’ve tried to pretend nothing happened between us, and in order to do that semi-successfully I work most of the day, and I’ve been playing the dating game as many nights as I can.
I’ve discovered a few things about myself, one of which is I have no idea how to ‘date’ anymore. If you’re not in college, or in the work force, where the hell do you go to meet people? I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, even here, but a few days after Nick committed his hit-and-run, I tried online dating. At first it was kinda scary and a lot exciting. But it got old pretty fast. The dates got to be like job interviews, and I seriously thought about writing up a resume because I got tired of telling the same stories over and over again.
For the most part the men were nice enough. It’s weird, though. The phone calls were always great, but the meetings were usually tedious. They talked endlessly about how their ex-wives had screwed them, or the problems they were having with their kids. Their jobs were as boring as mine.
But I did learn something
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