Бетти Смит - Maggie-Now

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small problems; he never made a protest when he was wronged and he was learning that a quick lie was the easiest way out of a tight spot.

Maybe he needs more love and more understanding, she thought. I love him and I try to understand him. But maybe there are some things that only a man can understand about a boy. He can't look to Papa for much. Papa treats him like somebody that's visiting here. But Claude, now. .

Yes, Claude.

The weeks passed and no word from him. She wrote a careful little letter, thanking him for The Book of Everything, and addressed it to the Y.M.C.A. and timidly wrote a small Please Forward on the envelope. It came back stamped Address Unknown.

She tried to convince herself that he had enlisted or been drafted. (She knew he had been anxious to get into the war.) And maybe he had been shipped overseas right away and now was someplace where he couldn't write to her. But in her heart she knew that he'd find a way to get in touch with her if he wanted to.

The hours of her knowing him, five evenings and two afternoons, had changed her whole life. She was no longer content to be her father', housekeeper and her brother's mother. She'd had a glimpse of another way of life; a full, rich, woman's life. She had known for a bit of time the wonder of unspoken understanding with another soul, the delight of perfect companionship and the happiness of exchanging thoughts (and no thought had been too trivial or silly to exchange) with a sympathetic being. And woven throughout all this had been the golden anticipation of physical love to come.

He seemed to like everything about me, she told herself, but not enough to want me for all of his life. He thought my religion was beautiful at first, but not beautiful enough to let it be. Should I have gone against it f or him? Love is so scarce and so hard to find, especially the love I have for him.

Wouldn't it have been better to give up my church for the sake of love, marriage and children? After all, Protestants are Christians, too. I told him I couldn't do it. But if I had tried tried hard! Maybe. .

She sighed because now she had another sin to confess to Father Flynn the sin of thinking of giving up her faith.

~ 239] Now Father Flynn still know, she thought. And he won't like him. Au?lt Lottie doesn't like him; Mr. Vail Clees doesn't like him. clod Papa. He doesn't I now qvLat Claude's religio7? is arid he netter spoke to him blat he doesn't like him a~7y1~0~v.

If they only flew him the way I k7?0w him, they mould lo:,e 07?' too.

She needed so much to have someone to talk to some understanding woman. Oh, if Ald7~7a there only still here, she grieved. She =~07ui'd urlderstand /10~, it is with me.

Mild she'd say so7llethi to make me feel better.

About this time, she had a card from Lottie, asking why she'd stayed away so long and saying that Llama was failing and asked for her, '\/laggie-Now, a lot.

Maggie-Novv brought a jar of jellied chicken broth over for 1,ottie's mother. Lottie was touched and greeted I\1agg7ie-Now tenderly. She asked about Claude.

Maggie-Now told her that Claude was gone and had not written. Lottie's face showed satisfaction at tlZe news and concern for l\Iaggie-Now's sadness.

"It's all for the best. Maggie-Now, dear," said Lottie.

"Not the best for me," said i\laggie-Now. 'But I guess it couldn't be. He was a l'rotestant…."

i'Oh, I had nothing against his religion," said Lottie quickly. "I just thought he wasn't good enough for y out" "But you said that as my godmother you couldn't let me m.ZrrN a Protestant."

"I thought it over after. Sure y ou could, if he got converted. And sometimes converts are more religious than these born in the faith. "

"I don't think he'd ever have turned. ' "He would if you went about it right. I ike some night, if you was alone with him, all you'd have to do is put your arms around him and kiss him hard. Yo't1 know. And you could ask him while he was under the influence if he'd turn for you. And he u70llld.' "No, he's not that kind. Anyhow, I wouldn't w ant to trick anybody…. Aunt Lottie, tel] me. Would you have married Uncle I imply if he hadn't been a Catholic?"

"Oh, that reminds me of something funny," said Lottie.

"when I immy and me was keeping company, he knew I

was a Catholic but I didn't knew \vh3t he was. I thought he wriest he being s 1 24 1

he was Irisll and a cop but I wasn't sure and I didn't like to ask. So I asked Mama, yO'JI know, just to find out how she fen about it. I said, 'Mama, should I marry Timmy even if he ain't Catholic?' And you know what Mama said?"

"What did she say?"

"She said I shouldn't let religion interfere with love, being's I was thirty years old already. So Timmy gave me the ring and we set the day. So I asked him what church he wanted to be married in and he said St. Thomas-iss. And I said right out, 'That's a Catholic church,' and he said, 'Sure.' So I came right out with it. I said:

" 'Are you a Catholic?'

" 'Sure,' he said.

"So I got all choked ul, and started to cry and 1 said:

'Oh, Timmy, why didn't you tell me before?' You know what he snide " "No.'' "He said, 'You never asked me.'" She smiled a tender smile of memory and said fondly: "That Timmy!"

"But would you have married him if he wasn't a Catholic?"

"But I told you he was."

"But for the sake of argument. ."

"No argument. He was."

"But your mother was w illing to let you marry a Protestant."

"Oh, she was just talking ', Maggie-Now sighed. She doesn't even know what I'm talking about, thought Maggie-Now.

But Lottie knew. "That's too bad that you had to fall in love with him," she said.

"I know," said Maggie-Now.

"How long did you know him, Maggie-Now?"

"Just a week, Aunt Lottie."

"Only a week? You'll forget him."

"If I only could!"

"Don't worry. You will in time."

"Do you really think so, Aunt Lottie?"

"No, I don't. That's just something to say because there's nothing else to say."

1 241] A. CHA P T FIR THI R T Y- THRE E ~ APRIL went into l\lav and the lilac bush in, Father Flynn's yard came into bloom and it was Decoration Day again. Then it divas June. And all the da's of that spring, Maggie-Novv sat by the window each evening after supper, and waited. But he never came by. She stood at the w indow watching for the letter carrier, but there was never a letter from Claude.

She lived on hope; pi rsuaded herself that he w as in the army and overseas in a trench and unable to get a letter out. As the weeks passed, she assured herself that there had been no differences betvv-een them; that the discussion of religion had been merely a friendly debate and she had been Prong to get so serious about the whole thing.

I shouldn't have said that about the woman, the convert and about her hair washing. Maybe he was thinking of becoming a convert and he thought I made fun of converts.

And that silly talk about asl ing a baby whether he wanted beer or milk. Men don't like women to be too serious but they don't like them to be silly either.

She lived on nope and became a little thin and drawn-looking on this diet. She took little pleasure in shopping for and preparing food and less in eating it. She had to work very hard (for instance, painting and papering the upstairs apartment after the Heah]ys moved out) so she'd be tired enough to sleep at night.

She stopped in at the church every other day or so and lit a candle at the altar of the Blessed Mother, beseeching her to intercede with her Son to keep Claude safe wherever he was.