Authors: Holly Chamberlin

Summer Friends (9 page)

BOOK: Summer Friends

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1975

It was the summer after the Weldons' infamous European vacation. The girls had been forced to spend a whole summer apart, though Maggie had sent Delphine a postcard every week. But now they were back together again and all was right with the world. Delphine had looked forward to Maggie's arrival with an intensity that made her feel sick to her stomach. When the Weldon family car pulled up to the Lilac House, there had been much squealing and hugging and jumping up and down.

The first week had been bliss. The girls had revisited their favorite cloud-watching spot out in the field behind the Crandalls' main barn and they had ridden their bikes, new ones because they had outgrown the banana seat bikes, down to the beach. They had snuck out to the old movie theatre on Main Street, the Leavitt, and seen
Jaws,
even though their parents had told them they weren't allowed to. One night, Delphine had stayed over at Maggie's house. Another night, Maggie had stayed over at Delphine's. It was just like old times.

But then everything had gone horribly wrong. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Maggie had come down with a big, fat crush on Delphine's brother, Joey. Okay, at the same time Delphine had gotten a little, tiny crush on Peter, who everyone said was very handsome, so that was excusable. But Joey? Delphine was totally annoyed that Maggie, her sworn best friend, like-liked her totally gross and annoying brother. She felt betrayed. She didn't care if Maggie was miserable or if she got her heart broken. And she totally couldn't understand why it didn't bother Maggie one little bit that she, Delphine, had a crushâthough not a big oneâon her brother, Peter. She had never felt so confused in her entire life. She wished she had never met Maggie or Peter. She wished that Joey had never been born. She wished that everything could go back to way before these stupid crushes that were ruining her entire life.

The absolute worst had come when just the other day Maggie had said to her, “Can you imagine if we all got married someday! You and Peter and me and Joey? That would be so cool. We could have a double wedding!”

Delphine had been so horrified by this prospect she had been unable to reply. What she had wanted to say was, “No, that would not be cool. That would only be the worst thing to ever happen, ever.” But the words just wouldn't come out. She just couldn't tell Maggie why the thought of her liking Joey upset her so much. Partly it was because she was afraid. What if Maggie got really mad and refused to be her friend anymore? Delphine felt that all sorts of bad things might come if she opened her mouth. Her mother had told her that most of what people said didn't need to be said. She wasn't really sure what her mother meant by that, but she thought the basic message was that it was mostly better to keep your feelings to yourself.

And now . . . Everything had changed back, just like she had wanted it to, but not really. Maggie was, in fact, miserable, her heart had indeed been broken, and Delphine found that she really did care about her, after all. Joey had come into the Crandalls' kitchen just that morning to find his sister and her friend at the kitchen table, eating Apple Jacks. Maggie had begun to choke and Delphine had been about to say something insulting to her brother, like “you smell like a monkey,” when, braggingly, Joey had announced that Christina Brown, a girl his own age with a reputation for being “wild,” had agreed to go out with him. Maggie's spoon had rattled to the floor and, oblivious, Joey had gone on to pour a glass of orange juice and chatter about how cool and pretty and popular Christina wasâshe had even gotten the new Bruce Springsteen album everyone was talking about,
Born to Run
âuntil Delphine had grabbed Maggie's arm, yanked her to her feet, and dragged her from the room. “Hey, I was talking!” Joey had called out to their retreating backs, still oblivious to the misery he had caused.

Hours later, her tears mostly dried, the bright red splotches on her face now pale pink, Maggie was recovering. The girls were in Perkins Cove, perched on a large, craggy grey rock by the water. The tide was low. A seagull stood about four feet away, eyeing them and waiting for the appearance of food. Off to their right, a father and his toddler son were squatting, peering into a tide pool.

“Do you feel better now?” Delphine asked tentatively.

Maggie sighed. “Yeah. I'm okay. I was being stupid, anyway.”

“No you weren't,” Delphine insisted. “Joey's the stupid one. If he can't see how much cooler and smarter and prettier you are than that Christina person, he's the moron. He's the chucklehead.”

“I guess.”

“And I am totally so over your brother, as of this very moment. Just so you know. Okay?”

Maggie could only nod.

“Look,” Delphine said, throwing her arm across Maggie's shoulders. “Let's swear never to let a boy make us unhappy, ever. Okay?”

“Okay,” Maggie said, wiping away a stray tear. “Pinky swear.”

They linked pinkies and swore.

“But what if it happens, anyway?” Maggie said then, her voice a little wobbly. “Even though we swore, what if someday we just make a mistake? My mom says that love makes you do stupid things and that a girl should be very careful.”

“Careful how?”

“I don't know, exactly,” Maggie admitted. “Make sure the boy is nice before getting a crush on him, I guess.”

“Well, whatever it means, we'll figure it out. Hey, you wanna get some ice cream? I have some money with me. I earned it at the diner this week.”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah. I want a double scoop. Chocolate and chocolate chip. Even though my mother says too much chocolate makes your face break out. Potato chips, too. All the good stuff.”

Delphine shrugged and climbed to her feet. “Who cares? I'm getting chocolate, too. With fudge sauce on top.”

It was Thursday afternoon. Delphine had finished up early at the farm and was now in her workroom, but her thoughts weren't on the sweater she was making for Jemima's daughter. She was thinking about the call from Maggie she didn't want to return. She was thinking about the past. She was remembering. It was something she had been doing a lot since Maggie's arrival in Ogunquit. She wasn't exactly happy about it, but for all of her willpower, which was considerable, she didn't seem to be able to stop it.

Robert Evans. Maggie hadn't mentioned him by name yet, but she would. She would have to talk about him. In a way, she was the one responsible for Delphine's having met Robert. Without Maggie's influence, Delphine wouldn't even have gone to college in the first place, especially not one all the way down in Boston. It was her coaxing and support, along with a few well-chosen words of encouragement from Mr. and Mrs. Weldon, that had led Delphine to apply for admission to Bartley College.

None of the other Crandalls had gone to college but for Jackie, who was, at the time, commuting to a two-year community college in South Portland. But Delphine had had dreams, vague and unformed as they were. She had always been an avid reader; she had always wanted to learn more, to see some of the world outside of Ogunquit, a place that had begun to feel awfully restricting. She remembered now how Maggie had spun tales of how much fun they would have if they went to the same school and maybe even got to be roommates. And Delphine had allowed herself to be caught up in those fantasies. It wasn't hard. She was an intelligent, curious teenager in a small town that didn't offer a whole lot of career options. Visions of freedom and adventureânever anything more specific than thatâcaptured her imagination.

Delphine shifted on the hardback chair. She thought she might have to start sitting on a cushion before long, or buy another ergonomic chair like the one she had in the office. No one approaching fifty had a perfect back. Fifty. God, so much time had passed since she had waved good-bye to Ogunquit and headed off for Boston, an excited, naÃ¯ve eighteen-year-old. Her parents, she remembered, had not been entirely supportive of the scheme. That's how they had seen Delphine's wanting to go to collegeânot as a plan or a stepping-stone but as a scheme, something not quite right, something slightly suspicious. Why, they had asked, did she need to go to college, anyway, especially a “real,” four-year one? She didn't need a college education to help run the family farm or to wait tables at the diner. And who would pay for college? they wondered. They hadn't forbid Delphine to apply for admission, but they had made it clear that she could only goâassuming she was acceptedâif she was awarded enough scholarships and loans to cover all of her expenses.

It had seemed like a bit of a miracle when both girls were accepted to Bartley. Delphine managedâjust barelyâto land the money necessary for tuition and room and board and, by the start of the second semester of freshman year, Maggie had charmed someone in the housing department into appointing them roommates. It was a fantasy come true, indeed, even if Delphine had to hold down two part-time jobs after classes to make it work. She didn't care. She was learning. Her world was expanding. She was having fun.

Together, Maggie and Delphine struggled through some classes and aced others. They helped each other study. They went to lots and lots of movies at funky little art theatre houses and went to concerts by local bands in minuscule clubs around Cambridge. Maggie lost her virginity to a skinny bass player in a funk band. Delphine lost her virginity to a moody poetry major from Belgium. They wrote term papers and took finals and argued, but only occasionally, about what new videos on MTV were the best.

And then came that life-changing night in the fall of 1982 when they met a handsome, charismatic young man named Robert Evans. They had gone to a play at the American Repertory Theater in Harvard Square and at intermission found themselves making small talk with Robert and two of his friends.

Delphine shifted again, but this time the discomfort was caused by the memories, not her aging back. Try as she might, she could never erase the memory of her first meeting with Robert Evans. She had noticed him even before he and his friends had come over to talk. He was tall and slim. He wore black jeans, a black leather jacket, and around his neck a long red scarf. His smile was big, his hair was dark and wavy, and his blue eyes were piercing and intelligent. When someone spoke, he focused those eyes and his attention on that person completely. He asked questions. He told a silly joke and laughed at himself for telling it. Robert Evans had presence.

When the lights flickered, signaling an end to the intermission, he suggested they go for coffee after the play. One of his friends begged off, but the other agreed, so an hour later Maggie and Delphine found themselves in a coffee shop with Robert and another guy, someone whose name they both forgot by the end of the evening. They talked about the play, a performance of Chekhov's
Uncle Vanya,
and discussed a local political scandal. Delphine told the guys that she was from Maine and Robert said he'd heard it was one of the most beautiful places in the United States. Maggie said that she was an economics major. Robert said that he had majored in history, minored in economics and political theory, and that he was now earning a graduate degree in journalism. He had been born in Boston and raised by parents he described as wealthy, well educated, and bohemian. His parents, he said, were currently living in Rome. When the bill came, he paid for all four of them.

In spite of the emotional pain it caused, Delphine could not help but smile at the memory of that long-ago evening. On the surface, Robert had seemed more of a match for Maggie, whose upbringing, except for the bohemian part, was similar to that of Robert's. But the heart was a wild and unpredictable thing, and within days of meeting in the lobby of the American Repertory Theater, Robert and Delphine had fallen madly in love. Within months, they were engaged. It was the very last thing Delphine had expected to happenâto meet, fall in love with, and plan to marry a man like Robert Evans, a man so completely unlike any man, or woman, she had ever known. She was happier than she had ever been. She was happier than she had ever imagined she could be.

Junior year became senior year. Maggie decided to go to business school after college. With an MBA she could achieve financial success and the benefits of thatâtravel, a lovely home, beautiful clothes, all of which she was already accustomed to having.

Robert completed his master's in journalism and was courted by several important media outlets. He took a month to travel throughout Eastern Europe, which resulted in a series of articles he was able to sell for a nice sum. The articles eventually became the core of his first book.

And while her friends planned for the future, Delphine began to realize that she had made a very, very big mistake. She began to panic. She put off filling out applications for law school or graduate school. She ducked Maggie's questions and avoided Robert's attempts at making detailed plans for their future together.

The thing was, she had always assumed she would move back home after college. But then Robert had come along and she'd fallen madly in love. Now he was on the brink of a big career, one that would take him all across the globe, one that might bring him fame and fortune. She knew he would neverâcould neverâsettle in Ogunquit. There was nothing for him there but Delphine, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would never be enough for a man like Robert Evans.

She would never forget that one unsuccessful visit they had made together to Ogunquit. Robert had liked the beach but had been unimpressed by the town, the farm, and the Crandalls. The Crandalls had been equally unimpressed by Robert. It became increasingly clear to Delphine that a marriage to him would leave her stranded, alienated from her family and from her home. Her parents would never entirely abandon her, but neither would they welcome an outsider with open arms, and married to Robert, she would become an outsider.

As time sped on, Delphine knew she should end the engagement. But at the same time she worried that she might be making a decision based on fear of the unknown. Self-help books told her that she needed to face her future, not turn away from it. Maybe her future was really with Robert. She believed that he loved her. She loved him in return.

She experienced agonies of doubt. At one point, she was very close to asking Robert to marry immediately and without fuss at city hall. Then, after graduation, she would follow him to New York, where he had accepted a post at the
New York Times
. With this plan there would be little time for reflection or for running away. But the thought of what that would do to her parents stopped her. She could never hurt them by eloping. They might never forgive her and then she would be entirely lost, cut off, unmoored. She would never survive that.

The protest rally in the autumn of 1983 had decided her once and for all. Rather, her reaction to the rally Robert had organized, her panic when the crowd got out of hand and then her moment of catharsis. But she hadn't had the courage to act on that revelation until the following spring. It cost her dearly to break things off with him, though she hadn't been able to convince him of that. She insisted he take back the ring, though he told her he didn't want it, he had bought it for her and not to give to some other woman. She left it in his apartment anyway. She apologized, and apologized some more. Hurt and angry and heartbroken, he had finally gone off to New York alone.

Delphine put her knitting on the worktable, got up from the unforgiving chair, and stretched. She walked over to the window and looked out at the front yard. Two large blue jays, a male and a female, were hopping on the lawn, screeching and searching for bugs. She watched them for a few minutes. And then she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the window.

Though she had deliberately forgotten so much of what had been said between her and Robert, some details, some conversations, were still bright and vivid in her memory. She wished the words would go away, but they never did. She feared they never would.

“I should have known this was coming,” Robert had said. “Maybe I did, in a way. The fact that you never told me your parents' reaction to our engagement. The fact that I never got a congratulatory card or a call from them. My parents sent you a card, and a gift. I told them right away that we were getting married. I was proud of that. But you weren't proud of marrying me, were you? You never told your parents about our engagement, did you?”

“No,” she had admitted, literally cringing with shame. “I didn't tell them. But it wasn't because I wasn't proud of you!”

“Then why?” The look on Robert's face had been an awful mix of hurt and anger and sheer puzzlement. “Why did you keep our engagement a secret?”

She hadn't been able to answer right away. And then, Robert had said, “Because you never really saw our engagement as real, is that it? Because you never really believed in us.”

Yes,
she thought.
And no.

“Why did you even say yes to my proposal?” Robert had asked.

“Because I love you.”

“Then . . . why this? Why are you leaving me if you love me?”

“I want to marry you, Robert,” she had said as firmly as she could. “I do. Please believe me. But I just can't.”

“That's it? That's all the explanation you can give me? Is there someone else, Delphine?”

“No, no, of course there's no one else!” she had cried. “It's just . . . Robert, please forgive me. Please.”

“Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?”

She had lowered her eyes, unable to look into his beautiful blue eyes any longer. It was too painful. “No,” she had whispered.

He had accepted her decision without further argument.

And that had been that. The end of an era. The end, in a way, of a life.

Delphine turned from the window to see Melchior sitting in the open doorway staring solemnly at her. She smiled. The present was what deserved her attention, not the past.

“Is it time for dinner already?” she said to him.

In response, Melchior turned and padded down the stairs.

BOOK: Summer Friends

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