Mary and Alvin

Getting to Know Each Other

Mary sat at one of the picnic tables while Alvin went inside to get their food. She had been lonely since before she moved, but she wondered if she would be wise to go sailing with this older man. But she had to admit that he was attractive, and it would be a rather informal date. She had not yet said yes, although she expected she would.

Alvin watched her from the kitchen window while the staff whipped up their lunch. He looked at her long legs. He wanted to touch them, to part them, to lower himself between them. But more than that, he wanted to spend more time gazing into her eyes.

Mary looked at him as he carried the food to the table. There was something in the way he walked that she found charming. He sort of rolled a little from side to side with each step. She wondered if that was the effect of a lifetime of sailing. He set two baskets on the table. Each contained an overflowing lobster roll and a pile of french fries. He took two cans of Pepsi from the crook of his arm and handed her one.

"Oh no," she teased him, "no Moxie!"

"Last thing I want to do is chase you off, dear. Now let me watch you take your first bite of lobster roll."

"Lobsta," she thought, he actually says "lobsta." She took a big bite. It was delicious, and the look on her face made that obvious.

"Ayuh," he said, exaggerating his accent, "Maine's got her hooks in you now."

They made small talk over lunch and bit by bit, got to know more about each other. She remarked at how different their childhoods must have been, one in a picturesque coastal town, the other in the endless suburbs of Southern California. He gave her tips on places to go and things to see in the area. She described her long cross country drive to her new home, he told her that in his younger days, he had done a bit of roaming himself.

He gently poked around the edges of her past. She was hesitant to be too open so soon, but he did learn that she had been married, and he surmised that the ending of that marriage likely had something to do with her taking the position in Londonderry. He casually dropped the fact that he had two daughters into the conversation. She asked him if he would tell her a bit about them.

"Well, Charlotte is down in Portland. She's twenty three, just out of college. Working as a sort of gofer at a big law firm, trying to make up her mind about law school. Engaged to a nice fella. Name's Jake. He's a hockey player."

"Professionally?"

"Well, minor league. Don't know if he'll make it, but if you don't follow dreams, why have them?"

"And the other girl?"

His face lit up. "Jennifer. Going to U-Maine. Wants to be a farmer. Going to college to be a farmer, how about that? A young girl. Who would have thought of that years ago?"

"Sounds like you are very proud of them both."

"Wait till you meet them, you'll see why." Mary took notice that he was already assuming that she would meet his daughters. That they were almost as old as she was did not seem to have occurred to him, but listening to him voice his pride in them, she was liking him more and more.

"Can I ask you, and please, you don't have to talk about it, but I was wondering about your wife."

Alvin gazed off over the water. "Bonnie Pierce. From down in Rockland. She was a good woman, bighearted. Anything in this town, planting flowers in the parks, cooking for families having hard times, anything..."

He stared off in silence for a moment. "She had a garden, she loved her garden. Big garden, she had a real green thumb. One day I come home at lunch time and found her there, lying on the ground."

"Oh no, what happened?" Mary reached across the table and touched his hand.

"Aneurysm in her brain. Something just popped. Doctors said it was instantaneous. Just like somebody flipped a switch and turned her off. Thirty five years old."

Mary saw traces of tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Alvin, I didn't mean to upset you."

"That's alright, it was a long time ago. But there's a lesson there, Mary. Life is short and can end in a snap."

"That's very true," she nodded. She was thinking of her father, who had been diagnosed with cancer when she was in high school, and had died in a matter of weeks.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Alvin stacked their empty baskets and stood up. "I've got to get back to work, dear. Now I'm going to be right down on that dock tomorrow morning at eight a.m. I hope to see you there. If not, well, at least I can tell people I had lunch with the prettiest girl in town."

She looked up at him and nodded. She wasn't sure what to say. He winked and turned away.

"Alvin!" she cried after him. He turned back to her. "What should I wear?"

"Dress warm," he said, "be colder on the water."

He dropped off the trash in the kitchen, then, with a wave, sauntered back towards the dock.

Mary rode her bike home. When she got there, she went to her bedroom window and looked down at the wharf. She could see figures working on a boat alongside the dock. It was too far to tell if one of them was Alvin, but she watched them for a long time.

Mary walked from her apartment to the wharf, enjoying the quiet of the morning. There was a chill in the air and she hoped she had dressed warmly enough in her jeans, t-shirt and cable knit sweater. She stopped and watched Alvin as he worked on the sailboat's rigging. She had no idea what he was doing, but she enjoyed watching him work. There was a gracefulness in his movement, the self confidence of a man who knew what he was doing. He looked good too, in his jeans and work shirt, so different from the men in suits and ties that she worked alongside every day.

He looked over and saw her. He waved and smiled, and hopped from the sailboat to the dock.

"It's bigger than I expected," she remarked as she looked over the boat.

"She, not it, dear. She's a thirty six footer."

"And you can sail it by yourself?"

"I've handled eighty footers alone. What I'm going to need help with is docking when we get back. I'll show you what to do."

She looked at the back of the boat. The stern, she thought, unsure. Black cursive letters spelled out "Sea Jay" and underneath, "Londonderry Maine."

"Why Sea Jay?" she asked.

"Charlotte and Jennifer," he smiled, "my daughters."

He climbed back on the boat and raised his hand to Mary. She took it and stepped over to the deck. He put his other hand on her waist and steadied her. For just a moment, she leaned her body into his, before he guided her to a seat at the stern.