Her Thirties Part 52

When I got into work there was a tiny pink telephone memo on my desk—apparently Abe called at five thirty the night before.

I felt instant trepidation, fearing some new threat to Marilyn. I hastily returned the call.

“Hey Pal—guess there’ll be no football after work today, eh?”

“Yeah, it’s freezing out there. I got a phone message—you called last night?”

“I did. My friend wants to see your car and see if he can make a deal.”

Abe never ceased to amaze me—he always knew a guy.

“Wow—that fast! When does he want to get together?”

“I told him we’d drop by his dealership around six tomorrow night. Does that work for you, Scott?”

“Sure. I really appreciate this, Abe.”

“No problem. I’ll hang out with you and we’ll grab a drink before heading home. Sound like a plan?”

“You’re on!”

Again, I felt a happy warmth spread through me as I hung up the phone. I had to smile. Abe was the kind of friend I always wanted and having him and Marilyn in my life, made me feel complete.

The thought of Marilyn made me look forward to my ten o’clock lecture. We’d go for lunch as usual. I could hardly wait.

Marilyn turned heads as usual when we walked across campus later.

She was dressed in a tweed coat with patch pockets and a suede belt. It was a very stylish coat conveying what most passersby probably assumed was a retro look with the sleeves designed to give a deep cuff effect. The ensemble was completed by a black fox fur collar and a matching cloche hat.

“You look absolutely stunning today,” I smiled.

“I like the coat but it’s not as warm as it looks—actually, I think I’m coming down with a cold.”

She pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and wiped her nose.

“I wouldn’t doubt you’ve caught something,” I consoled, “considering all the changes in temperature lately.”

“Well, I hear it’s going back up to near seventy tomorrow. It’s hard to keep up with these changes.”

I know what you mean, I mused.

When we were seated in the café and eating, I cut to the chase and asked her point blank: “Do you think you’re from the Thirties?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I am—mostly, I’m confused.”

It must have been hard for her trying to sort things out, especially with her amnesia.

“Can you recall anything at all about your past?”

“I get glimpses—flashes of things, but nothing that makes sense.”

“Tell me about some of these ‘flashes’, as you call them.”

She thought for a moment. “Well, I recall going to work with my father in a big, pale yellow Marmon car— a limousine.”

“That’s good,” I encouraged.

“We drove to Bay Street—to the Stock Exchange, I think.”

“That’s really great! What did your father look like?”

“All I can recall is he was tall—very tall.”

“What about your mother?”

“I can’t picture her at all.”

“Do you know where you lived?”

“I can see a big, old brick house—a two-storey on a tree-lined street.”

“That’s a start,” I smiled.

“Oh! And there was a park about two houses away—we set off fireworks there.”

She was looking tired—I couldn’t tell if it was from the strain of remembering, or her head cold—but I decided that was enough for one day.

I knew what I was going to do later. Get a list of all the Toronto parks and see if I could narrow down the search.

“I’m going to drive you home,” I told her.

“You can’t do that—you’ve got work to do.”

“Nothing that can’t wait. You should book off the rest of the day too.”

She nodded, and allowed me to take care of her. It was a familiar feeling, and why not? I probably always looked after her in every one of our lifetimes.

To be continued...


© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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