Бетти Смит - Maggie-Now

He had to think out an answer to that. This man she just met: He's putting her up to it. I bet he's been giving her a lot of blarney and making her feel like she's somebody. Now I

must watch me step, he planned craftily. Be nice to her like l know how everything is. 'Twould be the same like throwing her in his waiting arms was I strict flu ith her now.

"You are right, girl dear. You're a child no longer.

You're a fine figger of a woman and you can thank the good food I worked me life away to get the money to buy for you that made you the fine woman what you are."

"No. It wasn't the food." She turned her wide smile on him. "Because you're a fine rigger of a man yourself, Papa, and to hear you tell it, you were brought up on hard, little potatoes and chicken only once a year on Christmas and that tough, too, back in Kilkenny."

That's me girl, he thought with pride. Smart as a whip.

Like meself.

He said: "Don't be changing the subject on me. Sure and you're a grown woman and it's right and healthy that you want a man of your own. And do I not want grandchilthren round me knees in me old days?"

And so l do! he thought with surprise. Or am I talking meself into it?

"'Tisn't that I'm not willing to give you up but I don't want you to throw yourself away on the first man what says, 'Ah there,' to you. Remember, he's not the only pebble on the beach."

"Who wants a pebble?"

"You know what I mean. There's always another streetcar coming along."

"You'd never let me look for a pebble on the beach or stand on a corner to wait for the next car and you know it."

"You know what I mean, i~laggie dear. Me thoughts don't always come out in the right words. But I have only your good in me mind." Then very offhand, in order to conceal his craftiness, he said: "Now here's what we'll do: You bring the young man. .

"What young man?"

~ ~931 "Now, now," he said roguishly, "I know. Bring him around to meet your father, like the decent girl what you are, and I'll size him up and tell you whether he's good enough for you."

"Oh, Papa! Even if he was the Sheik of Araby, you still would say he wasn't good enough."

"Listen!" he yelled, forgetting to be diplomatic. "Child, girl, woman whatever you are, don't give your father none of your sass.

She didn't answer. She went out to the kitchen and noisily filled the kettle with water. I le followed her.

"Hear me?"

"Oh, Papa, stop annoying me, do," she said. Whenever her speech sounded Irishy, he knew it was a sign that she was going to lose her temper.

"I'll say no more," he said with quiet dignity. But he did.

And he said it loudly. "But you're not going out tomorrow night!" He hurried out and into his own bedroom before she could answer. He wanted the last word.

The long walk had made her hungry. She thought of Claude as she made coffee and cut some of the supper's pot roast for a sandwich. She thought of the way he talked to her the way he listened, with that quick turn of his head when she spoke, and how it made everything she said seem so wonderful and important. She thought how different her father was from Claude.

She wondered where people got the idea that girls were inclined to marry men who were like their father. Sure, she loved her father and she'd feel bad if anything ever happened to him. But she was in love with Claude because he was so very different from her f ether.

She poured a cup of coffee and poured heated gravy over her sandwich and thought briefly of Annie Vernacht, spending the best years of her life, as Van Clees put it, making open sandwiches. And she felt a little grateful that her life was easier than poor Annie's.

"Mama? I mean, Maggie-NoNv?" The little boy, in pajamas, stood in the doorway.

"I thought you were asleep this good while, Denny."

"I was. But now I'm awake."

I Ig} I "Hungry?" He nodded. "Come on then. Sit down. I'll get you ginger snaps and milk."

His eyes strayed from his milk and crackers to her hot sandwich and rested there longingly.

"Can I have some of that?"

"No. It's too heavy to eat late at night."

"You're eating it."

"Never mind, now."

"Just a taste?"

"Just a taste, then. No more." She gave him a fork. He ate from one end of the sandwich, she from the other. "Do your crayon work?"

"This afternoon. You saw me. You forgot," he said reproachfully.

"That's right. You did. N\'ell, what did you do tonight, then?" "Me and Papa played checkers."

"Who won?"

"Papa. I let him."

"Now why did you do that?"

"Because he won't play with me if he don't win."

"If you are winning, you shouldn't back up like that."

"Oh, I don't care if I don't win."

"You should care. You shouldn't do anything if you don't care. Drink your milk.'' "You drink half with mc.'' "I've got coffee."

"I helped you eat half your sandwich. Now you gotta help me drink my milk."

"Oh, all right." She pour d half his milk into her coffee cup.

"Maggie-Now, if you c ver get married, would he be my father? "

"Your father?"

"You know. Like you're my mother, only you're my sister?"

"What's the matter with you, Denny?"

"Would he?"

"Let's see: If I was ever lucky enough to get married, why, my husband would be your brother-in-law. Whv did you ask?"

"Because Papa told me you were going to get married, he 1 9;]

guessed. He said he guessed you knew a man, now. But he said I shouldn't tell you what he said."

"And you shouldn't tell, then, if he asked you not to."

She paused. "What else did Papa say?"

"He told me to tell you that you shouldn't get married and leave me here alone. And leave Papa alone, too."

"Oh, he did, did he?" she said grimly.

"But don't tell I told because he said not to tell you."

"Do you know what a tattletale is?"

"Sure. But you ain't going away like Papa said, are you?"

"No." She put an arm around his shoulder. "I'll stay with you until you get old enough to find some nice girl to take my place. Okay?" He nodded. "And if I ever have to leave here before then, I'll take you with me."

"And Papa, too?"

"No. Papa's a big man and can look out for himself. But don't tell him I said that, hear?" She knew full well he would tell their father the next morning.

"And now, bed! And don't beg because you can't stay up any longer."

"I want more milk first. You drank half of mine."

"Oh, no, you don't. You had your chance with the milk.

Come on, now. I'll put you away for what's left of the night."

She tucked him in. He tried to prolong her stay. "Do I

hafta have a blanket?"

"Yes."

"But it's hot out."

"It's warm now. But it will get cool towards morning."

"What time will it get cool?"

"Four o'clock."

"How do you know?' "Now stop it! I'm not going to get tricked into a long conversation with you."

"I want the light on, rhen."

"No!"

"Then I hafta have a drink of water."

"No! Good gosh, Denny, it's one o'clock in the morning.

Now shut up!" She smiled and kissed him.

About to turn out the light, she gave her usual hotlse\vife's

~ ~ 1

last look around the room, trying to imagine what it would look like if she were a stranger seeing it for the first time.