Margaret from Maine (9781101602690) by Joseph Monninger Read Free Book Online Page B

going to spend the evening with a man. At a ball. At the French Embassy. She looked at the window, where the rain still drizzled down the panes.
I have a date,
she realized. She shook her head at the thought. It felt incomprehensible. But the notion came again to her and it felt good and strange and undeniably exciting. She hated that it made her feel good to be asked. She hated that her true heart knew what her conscious mind did not: that loneliness was her companion, and she did not dare risk asking it to leave.
    * * *
    â€œOf
course
it’s a date!” Blake said, her voice leaping with pleasure. “You’re going to a ball? That’s amazing. Tell me how it happened.”
    â€œHe’s going to be here in a few minutes.”
    â€œYou have to remember everything. I want to hear every detail. Tell me again, what’s he like?”
    â€œHe’s tall and handsome. I mean, he’s not a movie star, not that kind of handsome. But he’s very sweet. He brought Gordon a stuffed meerkat.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œA meerkat. It’s like a prairie dog, I guess. From Africa.”
    â€œAnd Gordon is home safe. I just called over there. They’re eating lasagna.”
    â€œGood, I’m glad to hear that. I called earlier and shamed Grandpa Ben into reheating it.”
    â€œYou go and you have fun, Margaret Kennedy. Don’t put anything in the way. You deserve a night out. Do you hear me loud and clear? Don’t try to decide what it is or isn’t. Just enjoy it. You’ve got to have a little fun, too.”
    â€œIt’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this. And I can’t help wondering what Charlie is thinking here. What’s his game?”
    â€œHe must have liked what he saw to ask you to a ball. Don’t complicate it.”
    â€œI think he’s just being kind,” Margaret said. “He’s taking pity on an old farm woman. And the tickets were available.”
    â€œThat’s crazy talk. You’re gorgeous. You will be stunning. Do you know anything about the gowns?”
    â€œNo idea. A woman named Terry is lending me one.”
    â€œIn some ways it’s easier,” Blake said. “I mean, having only three gowns to choose from and you have to do it on the spot. You could kill yourself with shopping for something like this.”
    â€œI know. And I’m not really responsible for how I look. The pressure is off.”
    Margaret heard Blake change hands with her phone. Blake always weeded when she talked. Margaret pictured her walking around her deck, the phone crunched into her neck, her hands biting and nipping houseplants.
    â€œSo,” Blake said, dragging the word out a little like a kid on a playground, “how much do you like him?”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous, Blake. You’re such a cornball.”
    â€œIs it ridiculous?”
    â€œI’m still married, you know.”
    â€œI know that, Margaret. But Tom is Tom, and you know I have a whole lot of love for him. It’s been six years since you so much as looked at anyone. Don’t judge yourself so severely.”
    â€œI’m trying to stay in the moment. Okay, to answer your question, I told you, he’s very sweet. Charlie is.”
    â€œAnd you like him?”
    â€œI like him very much. From what I know, I like him.”
    â€œThat’s all that counts then,” Blake said. “I’m happy for you, Margaret.”
    â€œI’m married, Blake. Don’t go crazy here. I don’t even know why I said I’d go. It caught me by surprise, and I admit it was nice to be asked.”
    â€œThat’s human, Margaret.”
    â€œI have half a heart for anything. You know that.”
    â€œI do, sweetie. I know that. But you don’t get to go to a ball at the French Embassy too many times in your life, so just enjoy it. Stay in the present, like you were saying.”
    â€œOkay, I