Devotion by Howard Norman

Author:Howard Norman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Swans in the House

WHEN THE BUICK’S lights disappeared, David went into the main house to assess the damage. As he passed the kitchen the telephone rang, always a startling thing in an empty house. David stood there through five rings. He felt like the thief. The answering machine recorded Maggie’s voice: “Hey, Pop, it’s me. Where are you? I’m in my apartment. I had a day. Things at work are fine, but I went to the doctor this morning. Guess what? My official due date is November nine. I finally couldn’t stand it and had them tell me, so I’m telling you—you’ve got a granddaughter on her way. And no, don’t you tell David, please. When I want to tell him, I will myself. Call me, okay? I want to know you got this news. It’s not even nine o’clock but I’m going to bed. Me, the night owl. Love you. Bye-bye.”

David thought, Never mind the due date—no one told me Maggie was pregnant to begin with! He went to the guesthouse, circled November 9 on the calendar, sat drinking coffee, thinking back to the night he and Maggie had last slept together, February 10.

Though it seemed impossible, the fact was, between the accident in London and February 10 of this year, he and Maggie had not met each other’s eyes, let alone had any sort of conversation. Nor since February 10, for that matter. From his kitchen window, David occasionally glimpsed her driving up to or away from the estate, or strolling with William to the pond and back. Now and then he’d impulsively telephoned Maggie’s office, and her assistant, Carol Emery, would say, “They’re in France,” or “They’re in New York,” or even “They’re in town,” but he had the distinct feeling she’d been instructed to keep such information to a minimum.

Early on the morning of February 10, Maggie drove to the estate, stayed late, and while driving back to Halifax she stopped at the all-night diner for a cup of coffee. There was blowing sleet. Maggie had the windshield wipers going. In the parking lot, before turning off the ignition, she saw David through the diner window. He was paying his bill at the cash register. She sat there, heat cranked up, watching her husband complete his transaction. Neither the car’s nor the diner’s window qualified as amorous, that was for certain. You can’t help where your mind goes, however; Maggie felt the pitch and seethe, the opposing forces of love and hate, though there was a unifying element: she still felt David to be the love of her life. (At the same time, she thought, He has not come to Halifax to say that very thing about me, has he?) This surprised and saddened her, and then she experienced a surge of disappointment in herself for feeling it. That is, her emotions ran the gamut.

David stepped from the diner, his breath ghosting out—Put on your gloves, she thought. He noticed her car and stopped abruptly, watching Maggie appear and disappear behind the streaking sleet as the wipers arced back and forth.

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