WEDNESDAY: Coming of Age

BY MARY SCHULZ

Copyright is held by the author.

MARGARET PEERED through the glass door as she turned the knob to go inside. She knew he wouldn’t be here yet. She was early.

Stepping out of the late fall sunshine into the brightly lit café she was met by a welcoming aroma of freshly ground coffee. Her pink silk scarf felt cool between her fingers as she unwound it. She scanned the room. It was busy; she was surprised to see so many people here. She had deliberately chosen this place and time, thinking it would be quiet and a bit private. She frowned, feeling her nervous excitement waver; no such luck today. Maybe she should have known. After all, this was no fast-food coffee shop. They served tea and coffee properly, in mugs.

Margaret straightened and pulled her shoulders back. Never mind. Here she was, making this happen. She closed her eyes and silently repeated the mantra that had helped her on more occasions than she cared to remember: If you don’t go out on a limb, you miss the ripest fruit. She tried to ignore the muscle that twitched in her right calf from the long walk. It had been worth it, though. Hoping no one would see her, a woman well into her sixties, she had suddenly felt a joyous impulse to kick the leaves strewn in her path, their smell reminding her of old books, leather spines crackling.

A couple of young women were huddled in one corner, two enormous strollers parked on either side of their table. One of the mothers idly rocked her baby back and forth as she leaned forward, listening intently to her companion. A group of women, all white haired and laughing, took up a long table. Margaret smiled as one of them caught her eye, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

“’Afternoon,” Margaret said to the server at the counter, noticing her curls. “My, I like your hair! What a lovely shade of pink.”

The young woman, whose badge revealed in block letters that her name was Jade, smiled briefly and said, “Thanks. What can I get you?”
“Ah, let’s see.”

Margaret studied the chalkboard menu and briefly considered ordering something exotic but thought better of it. Not today.

“I’m meeting someone but I’m early. Quite early,” she shrugged self-consciously, “so perhaps just a tea. How about – hmmm- how about an Earl Grey? In a pot, please?”

Taking the tray from Jade, Margaret moved to the centre of the room. Where to sit? She needed a good view of the door. Looking around, the wall of windows at the side seemed right and the sun made it look especially warm and appealing. She rested her tray on a table about halfway down the bank of windows and undid the buttons of her trench coat. She spied a coat rack in the back corner. As she placed her coat carefully on the hook, she stooped a little to scan the main street. No sign of him. She patted her hair, hoping it hadn’t got too mussed in the wind coming over. Smoothing her grey skirt, she dodged one of the strollers that blocked the entire aisle and returned to her table.

Margaret pulled out the wooden ladderback chair, wincing as it screeched against the floor. Smiling apologetically at the man two tables over who looked up from his phone with a frown, she sat. She pulled the tray towards her and lifted the lid of the stainless-steel pot. Absently dipping the teabag, she watched the liquid darken. Looking out at the street once more, she poured some tea into her white ceramic mug.

“Damn!” she muttered, as tea flowed onto the tray and swamped the napkins lying there. She jumped up and hurried to the counter.

“Sorry.” Seeing that the server was engaged with another customer she went on, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you have a towel or something? My tea just spilled all over my tray.”
Jade turned back to the man she was serving and said over her shoulder, “I’ll be right there.” When the gentleman caught her eye, Margaret noticed his dimples and returned his smile.

Margaret tried to slow her heartbeat as she walked back to her table. What was wrong with her? She was a competent, capable, woman. But capable or not, it was good that the tea mishap had happened before he got here! That would have made a fine impression.

Margaret hovered by her table until Jade appeared with a checkered cloth. “Hmmm,” she said. “This is no good. I’ll just make you another pot. Back in a sec.”
“Oh, thank you!” Margaret called to her retreating back. “Sorry to be such a nuisance.”

The man, dressed casually in a sweatshirt and jeans, settled at the table next to her, put his coffee mug down and stretched his long legs out beneath the table. Margaret was surprised to see he was not wearing any socks on this chilly day but she liked the look of his leather slip- on shoes, the colour of soft caramel. He glanced over at her as he cracked opened his newspaper.

“Not your day, eh?”
Margaret jumped, hoping he hadn’t noticed her studying his sockless ankles.

“I’m, I’m sorry?”

Nodding at her empty table, “Your tea.”
Margaret shook her head ruefully. “Oh. Yes. Just glad it didn’t happen later.”
He frowned.
“Oh, I’m meeting someone,” she clarified quickly, already feeling she was talking too much. “Soon. Anytime now. “

She turned her head to watch the street, not knowing what to do with her hands. She settled them in her lap, twisting the simple silver ring around and around on her finger.

“Ah, thank you.” Margaret reached to take the tray from Jade and set it down in front of her. She smiled apologetically. “You’ll be glad when I’m out of your hair today.”

“No worries.”

Jade moved to wipe down a table.

“How’s the coffee, Bill?”
“Great, Jade, thanks.”

Jade straightened up, her cloth dangling like a question mark. She grinned at him, “Catching up on all the sports, eh? “

Bill laughed warmly, sitting up and shaking his head. “Yeah, right. You know I don’t know a football from a baseball. And could care less.”

Margaret slid her eyes over to try to see what he was reading. Just as she recognized the banner for the weekly book review section, she heard Jade chuckle.

“Someday you’ll surprise me, Bill, and come in here telling me all about the latest Leaf’s game.”
“Ha! That’ll be the day. Guess I’ll buy you a coffee if that ever happens!”

Jade grinned and returned to the counter. The man called Bill leaned over his newspaper, now spread out on the table in front of him and stirred his coffee. Margaret noticed that his tanned hands were comfortably freckled.

She looked up at the clock above the blackboard. 2:05. He was only five minutes late. He should be here any minute. She pushed back the sleeve of her pink knit top and squinted at the small oval face of her Timex wristwatch. She looked back at the wall clock. She was startled that her watch was fast. How had that happened? She pulled out the little stopper and, studying the wall clock, changed her watch to be in perfect time.

The door suddenly banged open against the wall as a group of teenagers streamed in, jostling each other like dogs after a long walk. Margaret glanced worriedly at the empty chair on the other side of her table. One of the kids pushed down his hoody, scanning for a free table. Margaret followed his gaze as it landed on a spot near her. She quickly leaned over and tilted the chair opposite her in towards the table as the group moved forward, one kid grabbing a chair from the seniors’ table on the way, swinging it carelessly over his shoulder. Bill looked at her over his half glasses and rolled his eyes. She fitted her skirt carefully beneath her and sat back down.

Bill cleared his throat. She raised her eyebrows.

He coughed lightly, “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

Margaret turned away and made a show of looking out the window.

“Don’t worry,” she heard him say. “Those kids never stay. They’ll be gone in a second. Your chair’s safe.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind,” he replied, returning to his paper and taking a sip of coffee.

Margaret picked up her spoon, turning it over and over in her hands. “I’m sorry. Just got a case of the jitters.”

Bill lowered his paper a little. “Why’s that?”

She bit her lip. “I’m expecting someone. Someone I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Hmm.” His forehead creased in a frown. “An old flame?”

Margaret could feel her cheeks warming. She placed the spoon carefully back down on the tray.

“An old flame? You could say that.” Feeling daring, she added, “We were engaged once.”

A soft smile formed at the memory.
“Ah ha! That’s an old flame, I’d say. What’s up with today, if you don’t mind me asking?”

A quiver of excitement bubbled up in her chest as Bill’s head tilted in curiosity. She was vaguely puzzled by her desire to say something shocking, or at least intriguing. Instead, she nodded at his newspaper and observed drily, “What, slow news day?”

Seeing him retreat, she worried that her quip had sounded unfriendly. “We met a few weeks ago at our 40th high school reunion. Haven’t seen him since the summer after graduation. He invited me for coffee,” she lied. “For old times’ sake. You know. So here I am.”

Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly as she looked up at the clock again.

“Woo,” he let out a gust of air. “Sounds nerve wracking. Good for you.” He flipped a page. “I’m sure he’ll be along any second. But just so you know, I can drink my coffee very, very slowly in case you need- you know- an escape.”

Margaret’s eyes widened. An escape? That never occurred to her.

“Oh, no.” She picked up her mug and cradled it with both hands. “We’ll have lots to talk about. It’s been forty years!”

Getting no reply, Margaret put her mug back on the tray and looked down at her skirt, picking at a piece of lint. She’d spent almost three days deciding what to wear. She’d chosen this top, thinking it set off her white hair and her still-slender waistline. Crossing her legs neatly, she studied her hands beneath the table. She ran her finger over the silver ring that she had placed on her right hand just this morning. It had taken her no time at all to find it, wrapped in turquoise tissue paper at the back of her lingerie drawer.

Surely, they’d have lots to talk about.

Margaret took a sip of tea and burned her tongue as a coffee mug crashed to the floor and sent shards of porcelain skittering across the floor. The gaggle of teenagers rushed towards the door. Margaret saw Jade appear with a broom and bend to scoop up the mess. The teenagers nearly ran down a man in a camel wool coat who was coming in. Her heart fluttered as she put her hands on the table, ready to stand up. But no. It wasn’t Brad.

She swept a strand of hair behind her ears. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Bill was watching the man who looked around impatiently for someone to take his order.

Registering the laugh lines around Bill’s mouth, Margaret remembered how she had barely recognized Brad that night. He certainly was still handsome, though, his soft brown hair threaded with only a little grey. She had tried not to be too obvious in checking to see if he wore a ring. She regretted later that she hadn’t thought to wear his ring. Would he have remembered? When she had suggested meeting for coffee, she was sure a spark lit his eyes.

Margaret lifted the lid of the pot and took the tea bag out, noting that Jade had wisely left an even bigger pile of paper serviettes on the tray. Holding a few under the tip of the spout, she poured a half cup of tea without incident and sat back. She glanced at the clock.

2:22.

She heard a buzzing sound. Bewildered, Margaret looked around before realizing it was coming from her purse. Maybe he was caught in traffic! She leaned over and quickly took her phone out. She saw the text. Someone urging her to get her eavestroughs cleaned. She snapped the phone back into her purse.

Margaret watched the traffic flow past. The trees planted in concrete containers outside the window swayed lightly in the October breeze. She wondered if she should step outside and scan the sidewalk properly. Sitting back, she caught Bill’s eye, who gave her a reassuring wink. She held his gaze for a second before returning to the window. She didn’t want to risk losing her spot here. No, she didn’t want to look desperate. Giving herself a mental shake, she admonished herself. Why are you acting like a teenager? Stop being such an idiot.

The older women were now milling around, gathering up their coats from the back of their chairs, laughing and hugging. Margaret watched them idly, thinking it would be nice to be here with a friend instead of this awkward waiting. At least she should have brought a book. A book! Yes, that would have been perfect. It never occurred to her that he would be so late. A book would have definitely sent the message that she wasn’t the least bit fussed about this meeting and in fact could hardly drag her eyes from the page to notice him arriving at her table.

2:34.

Margaret decided to keep her phone on the table beside her, just in case. This done, she tilted one leg and admired her black boots with the silver buckles at the heels. She had nice legs, or so she thought. She read her texts – nothing. She tapped her feet, one after the other, toe, heel, toe, heel. Bill looked down at her feet as she fiddled with her watch. She re-crossed her legs. Bill glanced at the clock.

I will wait ‘til 2:45. Not a minute longer.

Bill folded his newspaper and drained his cup. Leaning across the aisle towards her, he asked, “Can I get you another before I head out?”

“Oh, oh that’s so kind,” she stammered, “but I won’t be here much longer, myself. Must have got our wires crossed or something.”
Bill’s eyes followed her hands as she tapped her nails against her mug. She put it down hastily and pushed the tray away.

She watched him take his cup to the counter and exchange some words with Jade, whose serious face tilted in concentration before her eyes drifted over to Margaret then back to Bill. Margaret averted her gaze but watched out of the corner of her eye as he reached into his pocket and took out some coins, leaving them on the counter, a gesture which Jade acknowledged with a mock curtsey.

Margaret decided to send Brad a text. Hi Brad!?? I’m at the café on Queen Street. Must have got our times mixed up. Sorry to have missed you! Let me know if you’d like to reschedule.

She re-read the message and decided against an emoji. She didn’t feel like being light hearted. Seeing Bill returning to his table, she quickly tapped “send”.

Bill slipped his windbreaker off the back of his chair. Zipping it up, he said quietly, “Hope you don’t mind me saying, but I’m sorry, you know, that it didn’t work out today.”
Margaret rested her elbow on the table, combing her fingers lightly through her hair.

“Oh, well. You know. These things happen.”

She moved her shoulders in what she hoped was a worldly shrug. Bill paused a moment, looking like he was going to say something more and thought better of it.

“Well, good day then,” he said. He nodded goodbye to Jade before leaving.

As Bill turned the corner, she lost sight of him. She looked up at the clock.

2:52.

Margaret glanced around the cafe. Jade was using the lull to wipe down the glass of the counter top. Margaret felt a knot slowly dissolve in her chest. What was she doing here? How dare he stand her up? After all, he’d broken her heart, not the other way around. She would never have left him.

She could still feel the heat of that day – July 21st. The humidity had hung thickly in the night air like a damp sponge. Brad had told her that maybe they should wait. Just ‘til he had some money put together. She held him tight and whispered that she would wait as long as it took. But it wasn’t enough. Wanting to see his face again and feel his arms around her, she had rushed back to his place later that night after her shift at Burger King and saw him kissing Jessie Wainwright at the end of his driveway.

Her heart squeezed at the memory.

Margaret gasped as she suddenly realized that maybe Brad never intended to meet her here today. Maybe he had just been stringing her along the whole time. Fury flared in her stomach. Well! Enough. Margaret O’Brien was nobody’s fool. At least not for a second time.

She shoved her chair back, ignoring its high-pitched screech. She went to the coat tree, hastily wound her scarf around her neck and buttoned up her coat. Retrieving her tray, she carried it to the counter.

She took out her wallet to pay. Jade put her hands on her hips and said, “All paid.”

“What? How?”

Jade bent to resume polishing the glass case. “Just accept it. It’s a gift.”

Catching Margaret’s puzzled look, Jade flashed her a crooked smile, “I probably shouldn’t say this, but Bill. You know, the man who was at the table next to you?”
“Yes.”

“He’s in most afternoons. Right around this time. Just sayin’.”

Margaret raised her eyebrows and returned Jade’s smile. She hitched her purse up on her shoulder and turned towards the door. Just as she reached the metal waste bin at the end of the counter, her phone buzzed. She twisted to unzip her purse when she noticed the time.

3:07.

She let her hands fall. She ran her thumb gently over the gemstone chip, allowing herself to wonder if it was even real. Setting her jaw, she slipped the ring off and dropped it into the bin.

Stepping out on to the sidewalk, she paused as she might in front of a cool river on a hot day. She looked up at the sky. It was windier. Leaves swirled merrily around her feet in a collage of reds and yellows.

Margaret shrugged deeper into her coat, glad of its warm lining. Snapping up her collar, she began the long walk home.

***

Image of Mary Schulz, smiling, wearing glasses and a colourful scarf.

Mary E. Schulz is an aspiring Canadian writer based in Toronto. She enjoys the company of dogs, the passion of opera and writing that takes her breath away.

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