High October Read online

  “It’s just fish, and it’s wrapped up tight.”

  When they arrived at the beach, Liz parked Maggie a few feet from the walkway so she wouldn’t have to trudge through the sand. She raised the awning on the cleverly designed beach chair and set up an inverted five-gallon bucket so Maggie could elevate her broken leg.

  Maggie’s eyes followed Liz as she headed to the jetty with her fishing gear. From behind, she could be mistaken for a much younger woman. Her long legs were youthful, beautifully tanned and well-muscled. She strode with confidence across the sand, weights and swivels dangling from the lines, another five-gallon pail in tow to hold the bait fish and net. She easily ambled up the rocks to the jetty.

  Maggie let her book fall in her lap so she could use the telephoto lens of her camera to watch Liz walk along the rocks. She was as confident of her footfalls as a cat. When they were young, some said Liz was awkward and unfeminine, but she’d always had an easy way of moving that defied preconceived notions of grace.

  Maggie turned the camera to video and captured the exact moment Liz pulled up the big fish of the day to the congratulations of the other fishermen on the jetty. Liz’s childlike pleasure in reeling in a “keeper” was endearing. She posed proudly as Maggie focused the shot of her holding the big striper.

  The fish, Liz explained, was barely legal at exactly twenty-eight inches. She grumbled about the change in the legal-size limits and needing a salt water fishing license since the new regulations. Maggie nodded without absorbing any of the information. She was completely caught up in Liz’s pleasure in the catch because it reminded her so much of young Liz, whose innocent delight was contagious.

  On the way back from the beach, they decided to add a fish course to the dinner menu. While Liz drove, Maggie searched on her phone for recipes.

  “Do you have fresh oregano in your garden?”

  “Do I have fresh oregano in my garden?” Liz repeated in a mocking voice.

  When they got home, Liz went out to the garden to cut the herbs on Maggie’s list. She washed and chopped them while Maggie prepared the marinade. They cooked well together, which Maggie considered a good sign. She made the dressing for an arugula, sweet onion and blueberry salad and playfully slapped Liz’s hand when she tried to filch a few leaves to sample it.

  “Out of my kitchen,” Maggie ordered.

  “It’s my kitchen.”

  “Out!”

  Liz snatched more arugula leaves out of the bowl and snickered like a cartoon villain as she walked away.

  From the window over the kitchen sink, Maggie watched Liz clean and filet the fish, thinking how ironic it was for a surgeon to wield a fish knife, but she wasn’t surprised when the filets she brought into the kitchen were absolutely perfect.

  “Liz…don’t be offended, but you need to shower. You smell like fish.”

  Liz sniffed her arm. “You’re right.” She headed toward the door, but before she left the kitchen, she turned around. “You’ve become very bossy, you know.”

  “I have?” asked Maggie anxiously.

  “Yes, but I don’t mind.”

  ***

  Maggie was used to spending time with gay men. The theater world was full of them. She had instantly bonded with Tony, who adored women’s clothes. When they’d met, he’d carried on about her outfit, instantly winning her heart. As Maggie put on a clingy summer dress and carefully styled her blond hair, she told herself she was dressing to impress him, but in her heart, she knew she was really dressing for someone else. Fortunately, Liz’s comfortable downstairs guest room had a vanity table with good light. Maggie doubted she could put on makeup standing in the bathroom on one good leg.

  There was a knock at the door. At Maggie’s invitation, Liz stuck her head into the room.

  “Oh, you’re getting dressed-up.” Liz looked distressed.

  “Well, I am an actress. I’m expected to put on a show.” Maggie turned around. “You can come in, you know.”

  Liz stepped into the room and sat down on the bed. Her admiring look reflected in the mirror instantly brought Maggie back to Liz standing in the doorway of the dorm bathroom. At first, Maggie thought she was trying to learn something about makeup and tried to teach her, but Liz wasn’t interested.

  “Remember how you used to watch me put on my makeup?”

  In the mirror, she saw Liz nod. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

  “You were in love.”

  “Yes…poor young fool that I was.”

  Maggie put down the mascara brush and turned around. “You weren’t a fool. I was in love too.”

  Liz’s expression instantly changed from dreamy admiration to frank discomfort. She rose abruptly. “I’d better change into something dressier, so I don’t embarrass you.” She was instantly out of the room.

  “Liz, wait!” Maggie wanted to run after her, but she had to put on the boot first. By the time, she made it into the hallway, Liz had gone upstairs.

  When Liz reappeared, she was wearing black pants, a stylish top, jewelry and makeup. Maggie tried not to look shocked by the transformation, but she blurted out, “Oh, Liz. You look beautiful!”

  Liz scowled, but she blushed a little. “Thank you. I can put on a show too when I have to, but I don’t really enjoy playing grown up anymore. I still have a whole closet full of clothes I never wear.”

  “Well, maybe you should. You’re a beautiful woman. When you dress up a little, you’re absolutely stunning!”

  The doorbell rang. “Let me get the door,” said Liz, looking anxious to get away.

  There were hoots of surprise and appreciation when Tony and Fred came in. “Oh, Maggie, what have you done? You’ve been here for two days and you’ve reformed her!”

  Maggie joined the scene in time to see Liz playfully punch Tony on the shoulder. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” Tony opened his arms to Maggie. “And you look gorgeous as always, my dear.” He enthusiastically kissed her on both cheeks. “A vision to behold!”

  Tony’s partner, an equally slender man with a shaved head approached and kissed her too. “Hello, I’m Freddie, Tony’s better half. You haven’t met me yet, but I designed your costume for Mama Mia.”

  “You designed that ridiculous jumpsuit?” asked Liz in an incredulous voice.

  “We were trying for that disco look.” Freddie opened his palms in a plea for understanding.

  “It was so tight I was ready to cut her out of it, but she stopped me. She said you’d want it back.”

  “I do. I spend a lot of time on those costumes!”

  Tony held Maggie at arms-length and gave her a thorough once over. “Darling, you look so much better than the other night. Your doctor must be very good for you.” He bent so he could speak near Maggie’s ear. “And obviously, you’re good for her too.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Maggie whispered back.

  “Hey, no secrets here,” said Liz, trying to wrest back some control of the situation. “Let’s sit out on the porch and enjoy the nice weather. She herded her guests through the hall to the porch. After everyone had a seat, she rubbed her hands together. “Martinis?”

  “Of course!” said Tony and Fred in chorus.

  “Maggie? Sorry. No alcohol for you.”

  “Seltzer. Thanks, Liz.”

  Liz disappeared. She returned a few minutes later with iced martini glasses, a pitcher of martinis and a glass of seltzer for Maggie. “We’ve had a slight change of menu. I caught a striper today.”

  Tony and Fred cheered. “You go, girl!” Fred said, enthusiastically clapping.

  “Maggie prepared it, and I hope I do her recipe justice. But first a toast.” She poured the martinis and distributed the glasses. “Madam,” she said with a little bow as she handed Maggie her seltzer. She raised her own glass.
“To the fish!”

  “To the fish!” they agreed with a clink of glasses.

  Liz took a seat next to Maggie on the wicker settee. Opposite them, Freddie delicately crossed his legs. “So, Maggie. Tony tells me you and Liz went to college together. I want to hear the whole story…every last detail!”

  Maggie and Liz exchanged a look.

  “Oh,” said Tony with a canny smile. “It’s like that!”

  “Like what?” Liz affected an innocent look.

  “They want us to think we haven’t guessed,” Tony said in a loud stage whisper.

  Liz quickly changed the topic to politics. “Did you see the latest poll? They say Michaud is ahead, but I think LePage is going to get in again.”

  There was a chorus of boos. “No way,” said Fred.

  Liz shook her head. “Michaud should never have come out. Northern Maine voted against gay marriage in the referendum.”

  “Maybe someone threatened to out him,” Fred wondered aloud.

  “Who knows what the real story is,” said Tony.

  Maggie knew nothing about Maine politics, so she went into the kitchen to flip over the fish in the marinade.

  ***

  The striper course was a hit. Maggie enjoyed watching Liz bask in the compliments. “Thank you, but we have to thank Maggie for the recipe and the excellent preparation.” Liz put her arm around her.

  Freddie elbowed Tony. “They make a cute couple, don’t they?”

  Liz instantly withdrew her arm. Maggie saw that she was blushing to the roots of her hair. She still has feelings for me, and not just the feelings old friends have for one another.

  The martinis had left Liz garrulous, and she fell into animated conversation with Tony about how operetta had “degenerated” into musical theater. Maggie half-listened because the ideas being exchanged could be useful in the book she’d been writing on the history of musical theater, but she contributed little to the debate. Her mind was preoccupied with her earlier discovery.

  The rest of the dinner party proceeded at a leisurely pace. Outside, the light faded. Liz streamed soft jazz through the sound system. They watched it grow dark outside and listened to the music. The conversation about everything and nothing wandered aimlessly. Maggie felt at ease and relaxed. These people were so different from Maggie’s friends in New York with their frenetic pace, their compulsion to occupy every moment of their time, to be awake at any hour, day or night.

  There was rustling in the compost heap.

  “Aha!” said Liz, jumping up to look. “Something’s discovered the fish guts.”

  Liz and the two men rushed to the window. Maggie, stuck in her chair with an ice pack on her raised leg, listened to them speculate about the identity of the creature feasting on the fish entrails. “Do you think it’s a bear?” asked Tony in a loud whisper.

  “More likely a raccoon,” Liz whispered back. “They love fish.”

  They listened intently until the animal wandered off, crushing dry leaves underfoot as it made its way through the woods.

  “We need to get going soon.” Tony reached out for Fred’s hand. “Maggie has a broken leg. I bet it still hurts.”

  “I’m okay,” volunteered Maggie, although she was grateful that she’d taken a double dose of ibuprofen before dinner. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Fred gave her a sly look. “I’m sure you two would like some alone time.”

  Liz, still a little tipsy from the alcohol, let out a little snort of amusement. “We have plenty of time. She’s stuck with me for six weeks.”

  “I am?” asked Maggie sharply. “That’s not what I agreed.”

  “Come on, Freddie. Let’s go,” urged Tony. “They’re about to have a spat. Knowing Liz, it won’t be pretty.”

  Liz saw them to the door. When she returned, she sat next to Maggie on the love seat and stretched her arm across the back. Her skin barely contacted Maggie’s bare shoulders, but where it did, it was warm and gently stimulating.

  “How did they know?” Liz wondered aloud.

  “You dressed up for me.”

  “I did not!”

  “What a liar you are.”

  “All right. I dressed up for you.”

  Maggie hesitated for a moment. “And the way you look at me.”

  “How is that?”

  “Like you find me attractive.”

  “I do.”

  “I know.” Maggie turned in her seat to face her. “I find you attractive too.”

  Liz withdrew her arm. Maggie felt a chill where it had been.

  “I’ll do the dishes,” said Liz, springing to her feet.

  Chapter 7

  Liz heard the walking boot clomp across on the tiles of the kitchen floor. She checked her watch. Seven-thirty. Early for Maggie to be up and around. Liz listened to the coffee machine gurgle. A moment later, Maggie came out to the porch wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair all askew, and her glasses perched on her nose. Pale from sleep, she looked every minute of her sixty years. Liz mentally pinched herself for the unkind thought.

  “Good morning,” said Maggie, taking the seat beside her on the wicker love seat.

  “Good morning. You could have slept in.”

  “I know, but I want to talk to you.”

  Liz felt a twinge of anxiety at the stern note in Maggie’s voice and the ominous crease between her brows. She flipped closed the cover of her iPad and set it on the table. “What’s on your mind?” She took her feet off the hassock and sat up to show Maggie that she had her attention.

  Maggie took a sip of her coffee, extending the pause and Liz’s anxiety. “I think I should go home,” she finally said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m imposing on you and your life.”

  “You are not!” Liz protested.

  “I am. I’m parked here, and I need a lot of help because of this stupid leg. You’ve already gone above and beyond. You came at a moment’s notice when I broke my leg.”

  “I’m a physician. It’s my job.”

  “It wasn’t your job to invite me into your home.”

  “No, actually, that was pretty unprofessional.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “Oh, Liz! Sometimes, you are so thick, I could shake you!”

  “What about the Judy Collins’ concert?” asked Liz anxiously. The tickets had been expensive, not that it mattered so much as the fact that she’d been looking forward to the concert and to showing Maggie that they had good entertainment in Maine. No, it wasn’t New York, but in the season, there were some great shows.

  “I can come back for it. Or you can take someone else.”

  “No! I only got the tickets because you’re here. They’re for you.”

  Maggie sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you see that my being here makes you uncomfortable?”

  “No, it doesn’t!”

  Maggie turned in her chair. Her hazel eyes earnestly studied Liz’s face. “Liz, I’m an actress. I observe people’s behavior and reactions so I can reproduce them on stage. In fact, I’m probably better than most shrinks at reading people. My being here has thrown you off balance.”

  “So? Maybe I needed a little shaking up.”

  “Maybe you did, but you didn’t choose it. I just showed up out of nowhere.”

  Liz sprang out of her chair and went to look out the window. The idea of Maggie leaving was far more upsetting than she’d expected. She tried to distract herself with the beauty of her garden. A monarch butterfly danced lazily in the patch of milkweed she’d planted just for them. A hummingbird zipped by so fast it could only be heard not seen. There was the low murmur of bees feasting on the monarda. As beautiful as the flower beds were, the vegetable garden looked a bit sad. The eggplants needed to be picked and the herb plot should have been weeded weeks ago.

  “My gard
en needs attention.”

  “Liz, look at me.”

  Reluctantly, Liz turned around.

  “It’s perfectly natural for us to have feelings for one another. You were the first woman I ever loved. I was your first lover. That’s very special. And it wasn’t just a roll in the hay. It was passionate and powerful, so powerful that I couldn’t face you again. But I never forgot you. I still—”

  “I need another cup of coffee for this.” Liz dashed into the kitchen.

  When she returned, she felt Maggie’s eyes follow her to her seat. After she sat down, she could feel her eyes boring into the side of her head.

  “See? You can’t even talk about it.”

  “What do you want me to say?” Liz crossed her arms on her chest.

  “Oh, Liz. I don’t blame you. It was a shock to see you. I’m sure it was a shock to see me. Maybe after the dust settles, we can get together under more normal circumstances and catch up. After I wake up a little, I’ll check the flights to New York.”

  Liz tried not to sound as desperate as she felt. Maggie was leaving, and all Liz could think of was that summer forty years ago. She forced herself to speak calmly. “No, please. I want you to stay. Aren’t you comfortable here?”

  “It’s wonderful. You’re a great hostess. It’s beautiful here. Like the best vacation I never knew I needed.”

  “Then why do you want to leave?” asked Liz, frustrated.

  Maggie got up and hobbled over to where Liz sat. She put her hands on her shoulders. “Look at me, Liz.”

  Reluctantly, Liz looked up.

  “You still have feelings for me and that upsets you.”

  “I’m sorry my feelings are so obvious.”

  “You’re not the only one with feelings.”

  Liz let the words sink in. She swallowed hard.

  “But you’re straight.”

  “I chose to be with men.”

  “So why are we having this conversation?” Liz shrugged off Maggie’s hands and moved to another chair.

  “Because I care about you, and I never want to hurt you again.” Maggie shook her head. “I’ll check on flights. Is Boston an option?”