Мэри Эндрюс - The Newcomer

“Good work,” Ava said.

“Letty, look what I did,” Maya said proudly. “I do good work too.”

She’d assembled a large wooden puzzle that was a map of the United States.

“That’s great, ladybug,” Letty said. “Where’d you find the puzzle?”

“I gave it to her,” Ava said. “That used to be Joe’s. And then Isabelle’s. I know I promised to clean out every closet in the place, and I did get rid of most of their old books and toys, but there were a few things I just couldn’t part with.”

Maya placed her hands protectively over the puzzle. “Mine.”

“What’s next on my list for today?” Letty asked, wiping her dusty hands on a paper towel.

“Can you get the rec room ready for tonight’s Ping-Pong tournament and then pick up my grocery list at Publix?” Ava asked. “Maya can stay here with me.”

“We’re having a Ping-Pong tournament?” Letty asked, laughing. “Really?”

“Oh yes. Everybody here is dead serious about Ping-Pong. We’ve got folks coming over tonight from the Islander, the SeaBreeze, and the Michigander.”

“Those are motels?”

“Yeah. Ruth and Al Zofchak, they’re gone now, God rest their souls, organized the first tournament, I guess maybe fifteen years ago? They were retirees from outside of Pittsburgh. We used to have folks from seven or eight motels up and down the beach playing, but a lot of those places are long gone, torn down for condos, and of course, so are a lot of our regulars from back then. The tournament rotates among the four motels left, and this year we’re hosting.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Set up the refreshment tables and the bar, and make sure the rec room bathrooms are clean. Anita’s supposed to hit them every day, but she skips them when she thinks I’m not paying attention. The girls will be in there watching television, so just work around them. You’ll find a couple of folding tables in the closet over there. And there are some plastic tablecloths on the top shelf. Joe’s going to bring over extra folding chairs when he gets off work this afternoon.”

The Murmuring Surf’s recreation room, Ava had told her, had originally been the motel’s coffee shop. It was a low-slung concrete-block building with a fifties-era zigzag cement tile roofline and large plate-glass windows facing the parking lot.

Friday morning, she found the group Ava called “the girls” watching a taped episode of Wheel of Fortune in the lounge area, which consisted of two aging turquoise vinyl sofas, a mosaic-tile-topped coffee table, and a flat-screen television.

“Hi ladies,” Letty called out, as she pushed through the heavy glass door.

Wilona Wilson, a retired African American schoolteacher from Cleveland, was the de facto leader of “the girls,” the group of regulars who congregated most mornings to watch television together before drifting together over to their assigned lounge chairs by the pool.

Billie Feldman was one of the girls, although her wife Ruth rarely joined the group. Alice Sheehan, whose silver-white bob contrasted with her deep tan, was the third, and Arlene Finocchia made up the fourth. Today they were joined by Trudi Maples, but Letty noticed that Louise Schmidt—another retired schoolteacher, from Akron—was absent.

Wilona was hopping up and down on the sofa, clapping her hands. “I knew it! I knew it was ‘Sugar and Spice Girls.’”

Billie Feldman snorted. “You’re the only one here who ever even heard of the Spice Girls.”

“I’ve heard of them,” Alice Sheehan said. “I think my daughter used to listen to their CDs.”

“I’ll try to stay out of your way,” Letty said, “but Ava wanted me to get everything ready for tonight’s Ping-Pong tournament.”

She began straightening the coffee cart, mopping up spilled grounds, wiping down the sugar and powdered creamer containers and replenishing the supply of cardboard cups. She emptied the trash and began sweeping the terrazzo floor.

While Letty worked, the girls chatted among themselves, gently ribbing each other over missed clues.

She was setting up the refreshment table during a commercial break when Trudi turned to Arlene. “Doesn’t Letty remind you of someone?”

Letty ignored the comment, spreading out the red-and-white-checked tablecloth, smoothing out the fold marks. She went back to the closet for the second table. Arlene was sitting forward on the sofa, staring at her.

“Now that you mention it,” Billie said, “she does have one of those familiar faces.”

“It’s been driving me crazy,” Trudi said. “Letty, did you ever do any acting?”

Here it comes, Letty thought, trying to stay calm. “Yes, I tried acting. I wasn’t very successful at it. Every girl who goes to New York thinks they’re going to be the next Jennifer Lawrence. And then they end up working in a diner. Like me.”

“Were you ever on television?” Arlene asked.

“That’s what I said,” Trudi agreed. “She reminds me of someone I’ve seen on television.”

Wilona got up and refilled her coffee cup, stopping to study Letty’s face up close. “Trudi’s right. You’re sure pretty enough to be in show business.”

“I did some tiny bit parts,” Letty admitted, “but it was so long ago, I didn’t even keep track.”

“We don’t mean to pry,” Wilona said, “but you’re not exactly a senior citizen like all the rest of us who’ve been coming here for years. So, Letty dear, how did you end up here at the Murmuring Surf?”

Uh-oh, Letty thought. Here it comes. She needed to end this discussion.

“I had a bad breakup with my boyfriend, and I just wanted to get out of town, so I got in my car and started driving.” This was all true, if you stretched a point, which she didn’t mind doing.

“Isabelle tells me the little girl is your niece,” Alice said. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re raising her. I have a grandniece up home in Traverse City that I’m very close to. She usually flies down in April and drives back home with me at the end of the season.”

“She’s quite the little swimmer, your niece,” Billie commented. “Shouldn’t she be in school, though?”

“That child isn’t old enough to be in school yet, Billie,” Wilona said. “Not even five yet, isn’t that right?”

“That’s right,” Letty said. “Maya’s only four.”

She found an old-school aluminum Coleman cooler in the closet and set it on top of the table for the bar, then headed into the bathrooms with a roll of paper towels and spray cleaner.

When she emerged, the girls were intently critiquing Vanna White’s outfit, which today consisted of a short, slinky red halter dress. “I liked it better when she wore those pretty long formals,” Trudi said. “But these young girls today, all they ever want to wear are those awful yoga pants and hoodies.”

“Vanna isn’t exactly a young girl,” Billie said. “I bet she’s fifty if she’s a day.”

“That can’t be right,” Arlene protested. “I read in People magazine that she’s got grown kids.”

“Okay, ladies,” Letty said, pausing at the door. “Have a nice day!”

She felt giddy but guilty, wheeling a shopping cart full of groceries around the supermarket without Maya, sipping a Starbucks latte and breezing past the aisle of sugary cereals without having the child clamor for Froot Loops.

Motherhood, Letty reflected, was the most exhausting thing she’d ever done. She adored her niece, but bearing sole responsibility for another human’s well-being was overwhelming. Not to mention terrifying.

For once, she thought wryly, she’d discovered something Tanya had not overexaggerated.