The Long Ago by Michael McGarrity

Author:Michael McGarrity
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2023-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

Beth lived alone in a rented cottage at the end of a quiet dead-end street several minutes from the hotel. A large tree in a narrow front yard masked the house from view. The front door opened directly into the living room, where a small sofa faced a portable television on a table against a wall. A reading chair next to a table and lamp sat within arm’s reach of a bookcase filled with textbooks, cookbooks, magazines, and assorted document binders. A framed poster of a Pablo Picasso exhibition in Paris hung on a partial wall that separated the living room from a galley kitchen. Above the bookcase another framed poster promoted a Pan American Airlines vacation getaway to Brazil.

Beth scooped up a portly cat lounging in her reading chair, slid it onto a small pet bed positioned at the side of the chair, and reached for a document binder. The annoyed cat rose and padded away to a back room.

“Have a seat,” she said, handing the binder to him. “I’ll make some coffee.”

Inside was one document only, Ray’s carefully reconstructed, Scotch-taped-together letter. He sat on the couch and read it, glad Beth couldn’t see the blush of embarrassment on his face. He’d chided her for not writing back, accused her of being disingenuous when she had asked him to correspond, and ranted about the silly game she’d played.

“Well?” she asked when she returned. The sound of the percolator gurgled in the kitchen.

“I apologize for being such a stumblebum.”

Beth joined him on the couch. “You couldn’t even hint that maybe you liked me?”

Ray dropped his gaze. “I’m inept. Guilty as charged.”

“What was it you really wanted to say to me?”

Ray gathered his composure enough to push back. “First, where’s your letter?”

“Fair is fair,” Beth said. She took a cloth-bound diary from the bookcase, opened to the right page, and handed it to him. “You may only read the copy of my letter, nothing else.”

“I promise.”

He read it quickly and then reread it slowly. She’d written that she’d thought of him often and wondered if he’d ever thought of her. Although she couldn’t explain why, she’d feel sad if she never saw him again. She closed with a P.S. asking when he might be returning to Livingston to see her. It followed with, “Sometime soon I hope, if you’re serious.”

He handed her the diary. “I would have loved to have gotten this letter.”

Beth set it aside, crossed her arms, and gave him a cool look. “What was it you really wanted to say to me?”

“Be my girl.”

“That’s it?”

“I’d rather not force my luck.”

“Try.”

“I told you what I thought about you at the hotel bar.”

A sudden insight hit her, and her cool look warmed. “You’re shy,” she ventured.

“Only about certain things, like some of my feelings.”

“You don’t want to get hurt.”

“Not by you.”

Beth leaned back and smiled. “That could be serious.”

“Yes, it is.” He reached for her. She moved close for a kiss that lasted a very long time.

She pushed away when his hand reached her thigh.

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