Part 10 (1/2)
”Marian!”
Marian returned Jersey's wave and made her way past the grow-ing line to drop off her backpack. Friday evenings at the Java House was a popular tradition for more than just d.y.k.es.
”Is it really true?” Jersey's electrician's belt was next to the lounge sofa, which meant she'd walked over from the freelance work she occasionally did in a couple of the restaurants. ”The Rosings are moving to Hawaii?”
Marian nodded, trying to hide the surge of tears that welled up behind her dry, itching eyes. More salt, right, that would help.
”Cool, you snagged the lounge area for us. It's easier on my b.u.t.t than the chairs. Where's Terry?”
”She had an emergency at the clinic. A shepherd swallowed a Barbie head, apparently, and it hasn't made it out the other end.”
”Poor pooch.”
61.
”That's so gross.” Sandy settled into the easy chair next to Jersey and eased out of her loafers. ”I have been on my feet all day. Last time I take someone else's cla.s.ses on Fridays.”
”It's the way all creatures work.” Mary Jane, who had walked over from the library with Marian, dropped her satchel onto the chair across from Sandy. ”What goes in must come out. Sit, Marian. I owe you from last week. Iced latte or mocha?”
”Swiss Chocolate Milk with a Costa Rican espresso shot. I'm going for the hard stuff.”
”You'll be up all night,” Sandy predicted. She worried a thread along the hem of her crisp T-s.h.i.+rt. Marian thought irrelevantly that Sandy never looked anything but cool and comfortable. She tried not to resent it.
”Caffeine, near as I can tell, doesn't keep me awake, but it sure makes me pee.” Marian shrugged.
”Thanks for sharing, Marian.” Mary Jane headed for the line.
Sandy dug a magazine out of her book bag. ”Check this out, this month's Cosmo. A student left it. aThe Five Things That Turn Your Man Off.' I saw that and had to bring it. It's a scream.”
Marian idly picked up the magazine, though heteros.e.xual s.e.x tips were as interesting to her as the science of pimples. Actually, since she had pimples, she was more interested in them. Maybe there was an article about hormones and skin eruptions.
”Heya, everybody!” Wen hooked the chair next to Marian.
”Patty'll be here in a minute. She went over to Carrie's to get some more symphytum. Thank you, whoever got us these seats.”
”Symphytum for your knee?” Marian couldn't remember what that herb was good for.
”Yeah, it's feeling lousy. I'm going to end up in a wheelchair, I think.” With the nonchalance of long practice, Marian and Jersey helped Wen wedge pillows behind her back and under her knee.
Severe arthritis had ended Wen's field hockey days in her early thirties, and had gradually restricted her mobility over the last five years.
”Thanks, guys.”
62.
Sandy took Wen's proffered billfold. ”The usual?”
”Have you heard about Hemma and Amy?” Jersey licked her stir stick.
”Yeah . . . two decaf Cla.s.sic Whites. Thank you.” Wen watched Sandy join Mary Jane at the end of the line before turning to Jersey.
”No, what?”
”Hawaii,” Jersey said. ”Hemma got a tenured professors.h.i.+p.”
”Holy cow.” Wen stared at Jersey in disbelief. ”She thought she'd never get it. The only people who care about American studies don't live in America. Hawaii? How great is that? I'll be lucky to get tenure in English lit in my lifetime, let alone at forty.”
”Cool, huh?”
Marian thumbed through the magazine, unable to share in everyone else's delight at Hemma's good news. Some day she might be able to. But not today. Not this year. Possibly not this decade.
She wasn't the kind of person who told her friends every little thing in her life, but not being able to tell anyone about how unhappy she was made her realize she had never felt more alone in her life. How c.r.a.ppy was that? Surrounded by friends and none of them knew she was dying inside.
”Hard on you, though, huh?” Wen nudged Marian lightly.
”When do they leave?”
”A month, I think.” Marian swallowed hard and turned another page. Okay, she had to watch it with Wen, who could be as uncannily perceptive as Jersey was dense. ”The house is going on the market.”
”Oh, if Patty and I could afford it, I'd buy it in a second. That garden is incredible. Think of picking a salad for dinner every night, and those beefsteaks are amazing. But we just put all that money into the ramps and kitchen changes for me. And we'd have to build Patty a workshop, which would mean tearing up part of the garden, which rather defeats the whole purpose.”
”I wish I could afford a house on my own,” Sandy chimed in from the line. ”Ellie and I share the house okay, but it's getting awkward.
But neither of us can afford to buy the other out, even at I.C. prices.”
63.
”You should buy it, Marian. Sell yours and move next door.”
For a forty-year-old plus, Jersey could be as practical as a teenager. Marian shook her head. ”That would be nuts.”
”Why?”
”I don't have the capital. My house is worth at least forty thousand less than theirs. I only own a house because of that once-in-a-lifetime insurance settlement from my folks.”