Her Thirties Part 79
Ella finally unburdened the secret she had been carrying all this time. She was a neighbor from Marilyn’s old street and already had a relationship with her dating back many years.
The disclosure explained how Marilyn showed up at Ella’s door—it wasn’t just accidental as I had been led to believe—Ella was the only real intimate relationship that Marilyn had left.
In her dazed state, traumatized by the shock of losing her mother in the fire, Marilyn’s instinct led her to Ella’s street where Ella found her wandering in a state of shock in the pouring rain.
My heart went out to her as I pictured her dazed and confused, not even knowing her identity.
It was then that I resolved to stay by her side and protect her for the rest of my life.
Never again would Marilyn be left destitute—and as for physical threats on her safety, I would defend her even to the point of sacrificing my own life.
Suddenly there was a noise and we both turned and saw Marilyn standing in the doorway.
“Oh Mar!” cried Ella, when she saw her, “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to hear everything, Gran—don’t worry—it won’t change anything between us.”
Ella turned her head to one side and softly wept. I gave her a Kleenex. Marilyn stood in her nightgown in the doorway. I went over to her and kissed her softly.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Scott—a little shaky, but I’m okay.”
“Come on in and sit down.” I led her to the sofa and sat her beside Ella. “Can I make you tea?”
She laughed. “Are we turning you into a tea granny?”
I grinned sheepishly.
“Tea would be nice,” she smiled
As I re-boiled the kettle, I heard her consoling Ella and reassuring her of her love. They did have a tender bond, the two of them—a bond I envied, having no extended family myself—real, or otherwise.
I brought the teapot back into the room along with a clean cup for Marilyn. I wondered what I’d call her now—or rather, what she’d want to be called. She settled the issue immediately.
“Catherine Forrester died alongside her mother in that fire—my old identity is gone as far as I’m concerned. I’m Marilyn now and always will be.”
Ella patted her hand affectionately.
At that moment, my cell rang. It was Abe. I picked up.
“Hey, Pal—I was wondering if I could collect on that offer of a few drinks? I’d like to touch base, if this is a good time.”
I looked over at the two women hugging on the couch. “It’s a perfect time, Abe.”
“Great! I’ll be by in ten minutes—we’ll go to the Wheat Sheaf and I’ll give you a lesson in history.”
“See you then,” I said.
There would be a lesson in history, but this would be one occasion where the pupil would not surpass the teacher.
That is so beautiful, Scott vowing to stay by her side already. Do you think Marilyn will say yes? Ella, such a sweet lady, taking Marilyn in, knowing she has no memories and crafting together Marilyn's life. Now what will Abe throw into the mix. Thanks John, really enjoy your writing style.
I'm so happy to hear that - that's how I felt when I read Jack Finney's Time & Again - I loved his style as much as I loved the story - when he died, I felt I lost a friend, or at least someone who saw the world the way I did
A lesson in history ... very cryptic. If I were Scott, I'd not go alone.
yes, it could go sideways, but I believe a lot in reading a person - Scott likes Abe and vice versa - still, there needs to be an explanation of why he withheld vital information
I think he is a nice guy but sometimes certain energies can get hold of people. Maybe?
Thanks for sharing this photography.....
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