Mary and Alvin Ch. 08

"Your husband?" Mary asked, dumbfounded.

"Brent," the woman said, standing with her fists on her hips. "Yes, my goddamn husband. How long have you been fucking him?"

"I just..I didn't know, I..."

"Oh christ, you're dumber than the last one."

"I'm sorry," Mary said as the woman turned away.

"Not as much as you will be," Brent's wife said, holding up one finger as she climbed into her car.

Mary stood frozen as she drove away, and for several minutes afterwards. Then she went into her apartment, kicked off her shoes and flopped down on her bed. I ought to be crying, she thought, but she felt stupid more than hurt. After a while she got up and retrieved her laptop.

There it was, on her Facebook timeline, posted two hours earlier by Lisa Scanlan. "This whore has been fucking a married man. We have three kids. Do.Not.Trust.Her." Mary deleted the post and went to her settings and made her account private. There were no replies to the post, but there was no way to know how many people had seen it. Surely, some of her friends from work had. Wyatt? Her brothers or their wives? Robbie seemed to be on Facebook all day. At least, she thought, her mother didn't use Facebook. That was the thought that made her tears finally flow.

She had just sat down at her desk the next morning when she was told that she needed to report to Mr. Chou in the administration office. She took a few of her personal items from her desk and stuffed them in her purse. She was afraid that she might be escorted from the building.

Mr. Chou welcomed her into his office and asked her to take a seat. He sat behind his desk, his hands clasped in front of him. He did not make eye contact with Mary while he explained to her that there had been a complaint that she'd engaged in inappropriate conduct with a company consultant while attending a training seminar.

Mary denied it. "I met him then, but there was no inappropriate conduct."

Mr. Chou looked at the paper in front of him. "You didn't go out with him?"

"I met him for drinks. Nothing happened."

He winced. "Is it a coincidence that you separated from your husband shortly after meeting Mr. Scanlan?"

"Yes. Well, no, not really. It's complicated."

"Miss Winslow, you are a valued employee. An exemplary employee, in fact. But we have a business relationship with Mr. Scanlan's employer, and it depends on good relations. I mean, well, you know what I mean."

Mary fought to keep from crying. "Am I fired?"

"Oh no," he said, "But consider yourself warned that any future inappropriate conduct could result in termination."

Mary felt relieved, then almost immediately angry. She doubted that Brent was called on the carpet that way she had been.

As she returned to her desk, Mary had the impression that every eye in the office was on her. If they did not all know, they would soon. She felt defensive, but had to admit, she had always had some misgivings about Brent. She could have done some checking on him. It would not have been hard to find out that he was married. She didn't try. She had been too caught up in her fantasy.

As the weeks went by, she never completely escaped the feeling that everyone knew what she had done. She had already become isolated from most of her friends because of her split from Wyatt and now she stopped socializing with her co-workers. It seemed like her life had shrunk to a dull cycle of work followed by evenings alone in front of the television. When she received a memo that the bank was looking for people who were interested in relocating to their new facility in Maine, she indicated that she was interested. What the hell, she thought, I like lobster.

Mary never thought of oceans as having personalities, but she remembered the way the Pacific looked on that day she drove to Malibu with Brent as she looked out onto the water of Londonderry Bay. The Pacific had lived up to it's name, placid, inviting. Despite it's calm demeanor here in the harbor, the Atlantic was wilder, more unpredictable. The Pacific is like a dream, she thought, the Atlantic is like life.

She climbed up from the rocks and wandered over to the bandstand. A sign propped on a tripod identified the raucous musicians as the Londonderry Ukulele Ensemble. She listened for a while, then moved back along the rows of game booths and food stands. She bought another lemonade from the Girl Scouts and sipped it as she made her way back to the town landing. She crossed to the far side and leaned on the rail, looking over the narrow stretch of water that separated it from Faulkner's Wharf. She saw Alvin speaking with a young couple, a toddler wandering about their feet. As she watched, the child made a break for it, running towards the water. Without even looking down, Alvin scooped the little one into his arms and handed him over to his startled mother. Mary smiled and shook her head. After her experience with Brent she thought she'd never trust a man again. But she had instinctively trusted Alvin from their first meeting and she knew she had been right. She'd convince her mother eventually. She just had to meet him.

The couple with the wayward toddler were walking up the wharf's driveway as Mary started down it. She smiled at them and they smiled and nodded back at her. Alvin was standing in front of the boathouse watching her. She resisted the urge to run to him, settling for a wave and a slightly faster pace.

"Looks like you had a fine day at the fair," he said as she approached. Mary wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"I had a wonderful time. I even rode the ferris wheel." She told him about seeing Jennifer and Danni and showed him her new tourmaline ring.

"Well, if you ain't stuffed with corndogs and whoopie pies, I'd like to get some supper. You might want to join me."

Mary laced her arm through his. "I'd be happy to join you, where shall we go?"

"I had thought we'd cross over to Chase's and eat a couple of bugs."

"Ooh, don't call them that!"

They boarded Sea Jay and puttered to the opposite side of the harbor. Chase's Lobster Pound consisted of a large open air building and a dozen outdoor tables at the end of a long pier. There were places to tie up small boats and Alvin found one that could just accommodate Sea Jay. Mary marveled at the skill with which he maneuvered the boat into position.

Alvin gestured Mary towards the ladder that led up to the dining area.

"You just want me to go first so you can look at my butt," Mary playfully chided him.

"No, I want to get up there and eat. But I also want to look at your butt."

Mary gave it a little extra sway as she climbed. The dining area was packed with tourists, some in town for the festival, most on their way further down east, to Bar Harbor or Schoodic. Mary spied an empty table and sat down while Alvin went to the serving area to get their food. She was staring out across the bay when he came back with a tray holding a couple of sodas and plates piled with bright red lobsters, corn on the cob, cole slaw and biscuits.

"I saw you catch that kid," Mary said as they ate.

"What kid?"

"Just before I got there, you were talking to a couple and their kid started to run towards the water and you just scooped him up."

"Oh. I guess I did." He swallowed a big bite of biscuit and added, "I scooped you up too, didn't I?"

"I guess you did. But I'm not a little kid."

"Something on your mind, Mary? You seem to have gone from high to low wicked fast."

"I'm just thinking about things," she shrugged, "how I got here, if I fit in, things like that."

He nodded. "You wandered around the fair alone, while everyone else was with their friends and their families."

"That's part of it," she replied.

"What else is part of it?"

She looked down at her plate for a minute before answering. "Alvin, does the age difference between us bother you?"

"I get a bit tired of people telling me what a lucky bastard I am."

"I'm being serious. My mom called, and we talked about you."

"And..."

"And I told her how old you were, and she was not happy."

"That's not a surprise is it?"

"No, but, the thing is Alvin, she thinks..."

Alvin waited for her to continue. He reached across the table and took her hand.

"She thinks that I'm looking for a replacement for my father, because he died when I was so young. She thinks that's why things didn't work out with Wyatt, because he was a boy my own age and I expected too much from him."

It was Alvin's turn to look out at the water and gather his thoughts. At last he replied.

"Mary, I don't think there is anything wrong with you expecting a man to live up to your image of your father. It don't make you weak or developmentally stunted or whatever the hell you're thinking. As far as what anyone else thinks, even, with all respect, your mother, I do not give one good goddamn. Age don't matter, if you're Bogey and Bacall or if you are Romeo and Juliet."

"Romeo and Juliet died at the end of the story," Mary replied.

"So did Bogey and Bacall. And so will we."

Mary picked up his hand and kissed it. "That was a wicked good bug, by the way."

Alvin laughed. "I think you're fitting in."

The climbed back on Sea Jay and cast off. Alvin guided the boat to a position in the middle of the harbor, directly in front of city park, and dropped anchor. The music from the bandstand echoed off the water.

Mary stretched out on the rear bench while Alvin went below decks. In a few minutes he returned with a large plastic pitcher and a pair of glasses.

"What do you have there?" Mary asked.

"Sangria."

"You're kidding?"

"No, I'm not kidding," Alvin said as he poured a glass and handed it to Mary.

"You never cease to surprise me, Alvin Faulkner."

Alvin poured a glass for himself, and sat down beside her. Mary rested her head on his shoulder.

"This is yummy," she said, sipping her drink. "How long do we have before the fireworks?"

"Sun's almost down," Alvin said, looking over his shoulder to the westernsky. "I'd guess an hour."

Mary refilled her glass.

"Thank you for what you said, Alvin."

"About the age difference?"

"About not caring what my mother thinks."

Alvin laughed. "I'm sure she'd like me fine if she met me."

Mary shrugged. "I think my Dad would have liked you."

"I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to meet him."

Alvin snuggled his face close to Mary's.

"Remember," he said, "my father died young as well. I was only eighteen."

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, but..."

Mary sat back, looking into his eyes. "But what, honey?"

"I feel kind of guilty to say it, but in a way, his absence gave me the space to become who I was meant to be. Does that make sense to you?"

"I think so."

"It doesn't make me sound like I didn't love him?"

"No, of course not." She kissed his cheek.

"Fathers and sons," Alvin shrugged, "I suppose that's a lot different than fathers and daughters."

Mary poured herself more Sangria. She stood up and stepped to the rail, looking over to the park.

"It looks like the whole town has come for the fireworks," she said.

"Likely they have. It's the biggest event of the year, save maybe the Christmas tree lighting. Of course, that's got Santa Claus, so it has an unfair advantage.

She looked over her shoulder at Alvin. "You know, you are nothing like my Dad," she said. "He was a wonderful father but he didn't have much of a sense of humor. He was a little, I guess I'd say cold."

Mary suddenly began crying. She turned her head from Alvin, hoping to hide her tears, but he heard the catch in her breath.

"Mary, what's wrong?"

"It's just, I don't know, all day I have been thinking about some things and..." Her voice tapered off.

"Talk to me, sweetheart."

Mary turned to face him. She leaned against the boat rail and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I was the baby and I was the only girl," she began hesitantly, but then the words flowed out, mixed with tears, "and I know what people think, oh you must have been spoiled. But it wasn't like that. My dad was all into the boys and their sports and what they were going to be when they grew up."

Alvin sat forward, listening, not interrupting.

"And I wanted to be a dancer, and I kind of thought, well, that's sort of the same thing, like being an athlete. And my Mom took me to all my lessons and my recitals. And my dad would come see me sometimes, but I knew he really wasn't interested."

She wiped her nose on her hand and continued.

"And more than anything, I wanted to be his girl and I was such a good girl for him, I never got in trouble, I did good in school. I wanted to show him what I could be, to make him as proud of me as he was of Stevie when he scored a touchdown."

Her voice rose to a shout.

"But he fucking died. He got cancer and he fucking died and I never got to fucking show him! All I wanted was for Daddy to tell me he was proud of me and he never did!"

Alvin took her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest and wept, her body heaving with sobs. He petted her head until she began to calm down.

"I am not your father," he whispered, "but I want you to show me what you can be."

"Oh, Alvin," Mary sighed. He guided her to the bench. They sat down and he took her shoulder and turned her towards the stern. The western sky was a blaze of magenta and orange.

"Do you know the best part of the sun going down?" Alvin asked.

Mary shook her head.

"Knowing it will come back up tomorrow."

Mary kissed his cheek. "I got tears and snot all over your shirt. And a little mascara."

"I'll never wash it again."

"I think you're learning more about me than you want to," Mary sniffed.

"I'm learning you can't hold your frickin' liquor."

Mary giggled and gave him a playful punch on the arm.

"Moon's up," Alvin said.

"It's almost full."

"Waxing gibbous."

Mary looked at him and shook her head. The music stopped and the crowd ashore applauded, then for a moment the only sound was the gentle slap of waves against the hull.

"It's about to start," Alvin said, and there was a hiss and a boom and the sky exploded in color, green and gold and white. The sparks spiraled downward so close that Mary feared they would reach the boat. She stood and went to the rail as more fireworks lit the night in blue and red.

Alvin stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Mary leaned against him and he kissed the back of her head.

Each burst of light was reflected off the surface of the water. As the fireworks escalated in tempo and intensity, the night seemed awash in color. The noise was deafening, Sea Jay vibrated with it. Mary felt nearly overwhelmed with the sight and sound, but with Alvin's arms holding her tight, she felt completely safe. When she looked upward, she could imagine they was rising into the air, dancing among the kaleidoscopic colors.

The display climaxed with a crescendo of explosions, one colorful burst after another until the harbor was lit as brightly as midday. Mary felt tears on her cheeks. Maybe they were caused by the acrid smoke, Mary thought, but sometimes beautiful things can make you cry.

The last sparks spiraled to the water and blinked out, and there was a moment of silence. Then the crowd in the park roared their approval and Mary clapped her hands in delight.

Alvin turned her and hugged her to his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder. The harbor grew dark and quiet as the festival goers streamed out of the park and made their way towards home.

"Alvin?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"One of us has to be the first to say it."

Alvin raised her hand to his face. He kissed the back of her fingers, then looked into her eyes.

"I love you, Mary Winslow."

Mary's breath caught in her throat. She swallowed and touched her hand to the side of his face.

"I love you, Alvin Faulkner."

The smell of cordite faded and the clouds of smoke drifted off towards the distant hills and moonlight shone down on Londonderry harbor.