Бетти Смит - Maggie-Now

"Now, now, old sir," said Claude. "You wouldn't put your wonderful daughter out on a night like this in all that snow."

"She can stay," muttered Pat. "But," he turned to Maggie-Now and shouted, "get this man out of my house!"

"My house!" said Maggie-Now sharply. "Mama said you were to give it to me when I married." She went to Claude and put her hand on his shoulder. "Now, Papa, you stop being so mean. This is my man and I want him.'' Claude took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. "And if we all can be friends together, I'll be glad. If we can't, I'll feel bad, but I ll do what I want to anyway. I'm over twenty-one and I don't owe you anything, Papa. Except love. And that's because you're my father."

By God, he thought in sincere admiration, she's got spunks She stood up to me for once. Then, he felt that he had lost the old Maggie-Now. From now on, he knew where he stood with her. He felt terribly alone. Where, he cried in his heart, is me mother who would have died for me? Me wife who loved me so? Timmy who licked me but all the time knew how it was with me? Where is the little girl what held my hand so tight when we walked down the street?

He wept in his heart.

"Margaret," he heard Claude say gently, "you mustn't speak so sharply to your father."

"Me daughter can speak to me any damn way she wants," said Pat belligerently.

Maggie-Now went to him and patted his head. "That's all right, Papa. You have a cup of coffee with us and then you get your sleep; you've got to work tomorrow. Claude and I will talk a while and have something to eat, then he'll go and tomorrow we'll all sit down together and talk things over."

[269] At first, he refused the coffee. Then he reasoned that, after all, he'd paid for the coffee and the milk and the sugar and he might as well drink it. He had three cups.

He cast about in his mind for something to say that would make Claude angry but wouldn't make Maggie-Now angry. He thought he had it. Jealousy! He cleared his throat.

"Maggie-Now, dear, did you hear from Son Pheid lately?" he said.

"Who?" asked Maggie-Now. "Oh, Sonny! No," she said.

"He's a plumber," said Pat to Claude. "In business for himself."

"That so?" commented Claude politely. He turned to MaggieNow. "You didn't tell me," he said, "whether you lost interest in dancing after that or. ."

I got to think of some way, thought Pat desperately. I

can't beat hell cut of him because he's younger and stronger than me. I got to lick him with me mind. I can't throw him out. She'll go with him. She's that loony about him. Yes, she'd go with him and that's just what he wants. Then he could have her without marrying her and that's what he's working for. He's not the marrying kind. I know them kind.

Well, I'll think of something. You can catch more lilies with Elgar than with vinegar, he concluded vaguely.

He got up and scratched his ribs. "Like Maggie-Now said, I'm a working man and I got to get me sleep."

Claude stood up. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, "but I got to talking with Margaret and. . ' "That's all right," said Pat. "Good night, all."

"Good night, Papa," she said.

"Good night, old sir."

"Good night," Pat paused, "old son." He stood in the doorway. "I Nvish I wasn't such a light sleeper," he said with a significant look at Claude. He went to his room, leaving the kitchen door a) ar.

Claude went over and closed the door. He came back to Maggie-Now. "How soon can we get married?"

She straightened the cup in her saucer before she said: "You know I'm a Catholic."

"No!" he said in mock surprise.

[270] "But I told you," she said seriously.

"I was joking," he said.

"I didn't really know…."

"Ah, Margaret, you know so much about so many things and so little about so many things. Now: When can we be married?"

"In a month five weeks. I'd have to ask Father Flynn."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"There's no measure. I loved you when I first met you in the dentist's office, I guess. I loved you when you left, even though I thought you'd never come back. And if I

had married someone else, I still would have loved you somewhere in the back of my mind. When you sent that card and told me to wait for you, I thought everything was all right, even though I was a Catholic."

"Don't belittle your religion, my little Chinee. It's a grand faith. But could you love me enough to give it up?"

He saw her hand on the table tremble. She put it in her lap. She lowered her head and he saw her face work in anguish.

Look at me, he told himself scornfully, a vagabond.

That's classy f or slum. What have I got to give her?

Nothing. I know how she is about her religion. What dil~erence does it make? No faith means anything to me.

So I ask her to give it up. Why? Just to own all of her? To prove I'm a man?

But he h. d to go through with it. "Will you, Margaret?"

Silence. "Will you give up your religion for me?" No answer. "Please say you will. I need you to say it."

"I will," she said finally.

"Thank you, Margaret." A pause. "But you don't mean it, do you? "

"No," she whispered. Then she burst out: "Why did you make me say it? How could I fix my mind to mean it? Is it a crime to be a Catholic?"

She put her head down on her folded arms on the table and wept. She cried noisily and her whole body shook. He went to the door to see if it was tightly shut. He didn't want her father to hear. Then he went to her, pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her.

"Why, I wouldn't have you give up your faith for me. I

only t27,]

wanted to hear you say, just once, that you would."

sobbed louder. "There, Margaret, there! Stop crying.

There, Margaret, there!" I le stroked her hair. "There, there, Margaret now. There, Maggie. There, Maggie-Now.

"Listen! You got me around to calling you Maggie-Now.

And you can call me Claudv, if you want to." She shook her head and continued sobbing. He shook her roughly.

"Stop it, you little fool. Don't you know that I'm anxious to marry you in the Catholic faith? And you know why?"

She held back a sob to listen. "Because there's no divorce in the Catholic Church. I want my marriage to be that way: no divorce. After we're married awhile, you'll find out I'm nothing but a bum and you'll want to divorce me.

But you won't be table to. And I'll have you safe for always. Now dry your eyes and tell me how to go about things."

She wiped her eyes. "You'll have to see Father Flynn.

He'll give you instructions. I'll make an appointment for you and I think the chickens are done novv.77 He couldn't help it. He started to laugh. He laughed until he was weak.

"What's the matter?'' she asked.

"You," he said. "You're the matter. Oh, Margaret! Oh, I\IaggieNow, my practical love!"

Maggie-Now's sobs had not penetrated Pat's sleep, but Claude's laughter had. Pat turned over and muttered, "Bastid."

They mended the fire, made more coffee and ate the roasted chicken with bread and butter while they discussed plans for their marriage. Maggie-Now wanted to know where they would live.

"Here," he said, "if it's all right."

"But the neighborhood's so rundown…."

"I love this neighborhood."

"And this house is so old…."

"It's wonderful! It's a safe place it's a ho7ne."