Page 62 of Endless Summer: Stories
George feels like his bow tie is choking him. “That’s nothing, it’s just—”
“The answering machine told me it was the phone number of someone named Dana.” Sallie turns George’s chin so he has no choice but to look her in the eye. “The number of the girl who introduced herself at the pharmacy.”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?”
“She wrote it there, not me.”
“Obviously, George. You only have one working hand.”
“I’m not even sure why she wrote it,” he says. “I didn’taskher to. I barely know her.”
“She wrote it because she wants you to call her.”
“Well, I don’twantto call her.” He swallows. “I love you.”
Sallie shakes her head. “Don’t,” she says, “confuse lust with love.”
“I’m not, I’m—”
Sallie grasps George’s good hand, which is now his bad hand because of Dana’s phone number. “Youshouldbe going out with girls like Dana. She was cute. She looked like Phoebe Cates. You’re twenty years old, George. You should be dating girls your own age, not dried-up husks like me.”
“Sallie,” George says, finally finding his voice. “You are the most beautiful, most intelligent, most colorful, vivacious, fun-loving, and interesting woman I’ve ever met. Every other woman pales in comparison to you.”
“We’re going to end things while you still feel that way,” Sallie says. She touches his face. “My dear, sweet George.”
“Endthings?”
Sallie sighs. “Yes, I’m breaking up with you. Now pack your things and go to your party.” She lights a new cigarette and exhales a plume of smoke. “Please give your family my sincere regrets.”
10. DON’TWORRY, BEHAPPY
Magee couldn’t have ordered up a more perfect evening. The sun sets in wisps of gold and pink just as the caterers set a scarlet lobster on everyone’s plate. Bowls of mussels, potatoes, corn, and lemon wedges make the rounds. Every guest has his or her own butter warmer. With a dinner like this, Magee happens to believe, there can’tbeenough butter.
Thank heavens the caterers didn’t balk when Magee told them there would be extra guests. Genevieve’s boyfriend, Andrew (Magee privately thinks of him as “Mr. Zipperhead”), was a surprise, and then Kirby appeared, drunk as a street hobo, but everyone in the family (except Jessie and, of course, Magee) looked the other way and exclaimed how happy they were to see her. (She has always,alwaysgotten away with murder.) Five minutes before they were supposed to sit down, a woman with a long gray braid wearing white overalls cuffed over Birkenstocks walked into the party holding a strawberry shortcake. Magee gasped because at that second, she realized she had forgotten to send Tiger to the Nantucket Bake Shop to pick up the twins’ cake!
Magee had intercepted the woman and relieved her of the shortcake. “How much do we owe you?” she said. “And who did you speak to about ordering this?”
“I’m here for the party,” the woman said. “Kate invited me.” Then she looked at Magee as thoughMageewere the interloper and said, “Who areyou?”
“Magee,” she said. “Tiger’s wife.”
“Aha!” the woman said. “I’m Rain. I sell strawberries on Main Street and I made this shortcake myself. I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”
Magee set the cake in the fridge, then rushed to find Tiger. “I love how your mother invited the strawberry woman to a family birthday party. As if Bitsy and Helen aren’t enough.”
Tiger said, “She’s not just the strawberry woman, sweetie. That’s Lorraine Crimmins.” He pauses. “Bill’s daughter. Pick’s mother.”
It took Magee a minute, but then the puzzle piece snapped into place. “Ohhh,” Magee said. This, then, was the woman who’d had an affair with Wilder Foley. This was the embodiment of the skeleton in the Foley family closet. It wasthisstory that made Magee so intent on having a nice, normal family: Mom, Dad, four boys, no drama greater than a stomach bug or a misplaced hockey stick. “Why did Kate invite her? I thought shehatedher.”
Tiger shrugs. “No idea,” he says. “But I’m going over to say hello.”
When Mouth reaches for his third lobster, Genevieve turns to her brother and says, “Want to go for a walk before we do cake?”
