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They ordered a pizza and downed a six-pack of beer with it. They put on Glenn Miller records and danced slow dances and a couple of silly swings, giggling and giving in to the mood.
At one point, Lilah turned solemn and pronounced, “She can have it!”
“Who can have what, dear?”
“She — Miss Blackside! She can have it — the computers, the books — the whole she-bang!”
“Oh, Lilah … this will pass. You’ve been feeling down, but this will pass. Just try to be positive.”
Shortly after lunch the next day, Mary was checking on an interlibrary loan request in the backroom of the Circulation Department. She became aware of a flurry of attention among the circulation staff as they greeted someone they’d apparently not seen for awhile. Their voices were effusive, well-meaning, and not altogether sincere.
“Oh, my goodness. Nice to see you!”
“Your hair looks so-oh nice!”
Mary stepped to the doorway and saw Lilah, blinking, half smiling, but looking a little surprised, as though she had forgotten about her changed appearance. She wore the now-rumpled blouse and skirt she’d worn last evening. The rouge was gone, but she had dusted her puffy face with a light powder that made her face look floury. It was the first time during her leave that Mary felt she really looked ill.
Mary stepped from behind the circulation desk and started toward Lilah. Involuntarily, she paused, her eyes riveted on Lilah’s feet. Lilah looked at her, looked down, and then back at Mary in alarm. Instead of the black pumps, she wore the fuzzy pink slippers.
The three women who had gathered at the circulation desk were a tableau of embarrassment.
Mary took Lilah gently by the arm, and said, “Oh dear, Lilah, you shouldn’t have tried to come. I don’t think you’re feeling up to it.”
“Oh yes, you look a little pale!” one lady chimed in. Another aborted a nervous giggle.
Mary guided Lilah through the door and to the parking lot. She thought she would get Lilah seated in the car, then go back and tell her supervisor that she needed time to drive her home. At the car though, Lilah began to sob and turned to cling to Mary. She was strong and grasping, pulling Mary’s face toward hers. Mary struggled to turn her head, Lilah’s kiss brushing the corners of her mouth.
“Teach me … teach me everything you know … about the computers,” Lilah murmured.
Mary stood paralyzed, locked in Lilah’s embrace. Over her shoulder, she caught sight of Alicia and a friend returning from lunch. They both stared. A gleam of derision flashed across Alicia’s face, followed by a sly smile.
Images of the future washed over Mary like surly ocean breakers. There would be stifled laughter and hushed voices when she entered rooms. There would be innuendo and speculation and crude jokes. The library grapevine would eventually grow and creep insidiously into the community. There might be complaints —
Then, she grew decisively calm. She saw herself, walking on an empty beach in the early morning, Prufrock-like, with trousers rolled, a resigned set to her shoulders. She watched as her back receded into the distance and disappeared into the ocean mist.
About Barbara Kussow
