No Longer Alone

Margaret Pauley was glad she retired from her second-grade teaching job. At sixty-five she was tired. She had given the best years of her life to her students, and now she wanted to relax. She loved teaching, but it was draining. The last year she had felt exhausted, each time she left the classroom she couldn’t wait to get home. She thought more and more of the weekends. She was sure she’d enjoy those lazy days. She felt entitled to do nothing and enjoy her "golden years" as the principal had referred to them. She’d miss the teachers she had grown to love, but was sure they’d be too busy to keep in touch. She wondered if any of the children she taught would even notice she was gone.

Margaret walked down the worn, red-brick steps for the last time, glad to feel the still-warm sunshine on her face. "It’s a good omen," she thought to herself. The sun felt great against her face and she could picture herself basking in the sun at their local pool.

Later, when she arrived home, sitting in her on-bedroom apartment, staring at the four walls, she nervously pondered if she had done the right thing.

"Oh, John," she said out loud, "I miss you so much." She had been a widow for three years, yet the loneliness was bearable because of her job. Now what was she going to do with all the endless time that laid out before her.

She watched a little television, but fell asleep in her easy chair as Jay Leno did his opening jokes. The next morning was Saturday and when she groggily woke up at nine a.m., she felt sad and depressed, tears stinging her eyes. That was the day she and John walked in the park, hand-in-hand, followed by a candle-lit dinner in their favorite restaurant. Her husband had been so romantic. Always buying her a single rose, or a gold necklace on the spur-of-the-moment. He said it was because he loved to see her smile and that he loved her.

As she rubbed the sleep and tears from her eyes, she suddenly remembered she invited her friend Joan over for coffee and cake at eleven o’clock. She knew her friend would understand how she felt. She hastily dressed in a blue and white slack outfit, only applying a little lipstick. That was about all she could muster. She didn’t feel very festive, and the tears threatening to fall were only moments away. When the doorbell rang, Margaret tried to act happy. Maybe Joan would cheer her up, she thought hopefully.

Margaret loved her friend’s punctuality and bubbly personality. "Hi, friend," Margaret said, ushering her into the kitchen. "How are you?" She knew Joan would say peachy and she was right. Margaret tried not to laugh, but a smile creased her lips despite herself.

"I made coffee and brownies," Margaret said, sitting down in the familiar, country-style chair. Joan sat down and sniffed the mouth-watering brownies.

"Oh, I love the smell of chocolate and especially your brownies!" Joan said with a big smile. "I guess chocolate is my downfall and that’s why I always have to lose those last ten pounds!" Joan patted her round tummy. Margaret knew her somewhat-plump friend had a weight problem, but it made her more understanding of her own faults.

"Don’t worry," Margaret assured her. "You’re fine just the way you are." Margaret took a sip of coffee and then, changing the subject said, "I wish I didn’t miss John so much."

"I know," Joan replied, touching her friend’s hand. "You’ve been through a lot. I’m always here for you if you need to talk."

Her friend’s tenderness allowed Margaret’s tears to fall, despite her promise not to let them. She hated being so emotional, but Margaret was glad she didn’t have to pretend with Joan. Somehow she understood her better than anyone. Quickly, Joan reached in her purse and handed Margaret a tissue. "Honey, don’t cry. Things will get better, you’ll see."

Margaret nodded. "I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems."

"You know anything bothering you is a concern to me."

"How about we do justice to your delicious brownies?" Joan said with a comforting smile.

Margaret smiled too. "You’re right. So what if we gain another pound or two!"

The laughter felt good. Just then things didn’t seem quite as hopeless. After a moment’s silence, Joan said, "You know, Margaret, my next-door neighbor has five children to take care of and doesn’t have enough time for them. Linda, the oldest, gets into the most mischief. Would you consider being her big sister? I know her mother would agree to it and be really appreciative."

"That sounds interesting," Margaret said happily.

"Well," Joan continued. "Linda is twelve and at that awkward stage. Maybe you could go for walks with her, or take her to the movies."

Margaret’s eyes lit up. "I love the idea. We could keep each other company."

They talked about it for most of the day, making plans for Margaret to meet Linda that next Sunday afternoon.

Margaret was excited about the meeting and didn’t feel lonely all that week. She felt needed and loved that feeling. Her only thought was on Linda. She busied herself by cleaning the house from top to bottom, making sure everything looked perfect. Finally, Sunday arrived, not fast enough for Margaret.

She arranged violets in the delicately-patterned porcelain vase John had given her for their fifth wedding anniversary. "It looks perfect on the cocktail table," Margaret said to herself. Then she went into the kitchen and made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for her guests. Joan was coming to for their

first visit. She felt like a kid again, even licking the jelly off her fingers.

When the doorbell rang, Margaret washed and dried her hands, checking her appearance in the hallway mirror. Somehow her cheeks were much rosier than before, and her twinkling eyes held a promise of a brighter future. She was very glad she had agreed to help Linda. Maybe it would help both of them, she hoped. Heart pounding excitedly, she opened the door and smiled at Joan and Linda. The child standing before her was a sullen girl who looked down at her frayed off-white laces on her shabby sneakers. Her unkempt, red shoulder-length hair was a mass of tangles. The top of her hair was cut in a punk-rock look. The skin-tight blue jeans were torn with big holes on each knee. Her worn, cracked black-leather jacket gave her an almost street-smart look that didn’t quite make it.

"Hi, Linda," Margaret said, trying to hide her negative impression of her.

"Come in, I bet your hungry. I’ve made lunch for all of us."

Linda looked at her with a curled-up lip. Margaret could tell Linda would be a handful. The girl walked into the apartment grudgingly, with Joan following closely behind. Margaret wasn’t sure how this was going to work out. Linda wasn’t at all what she had expected. The children in her classes were always so neat, even the ones from the poorer neighborhoods. She gave Joan a "What do I do now?" look.

Usually she didn’t go by first impressions, but there was a bitterness in the girl’s eyes she hadn’t seen in other children her age. Not one of her students had that hard-nosed exterior and she wasn’t sure she’d know how to handle it. Something about the girl frightened her too. Joan said she’d be somewhat of a problem, but maybe Linda was much more than she bargained for.

"Let’s go into the kitchen," Margaret said to her guests, trying to forget her harsh thoughts.

"Linda, you can leave your jacket in the living room if you’d like."

Linda shrugged her shoulders, flinging the jacket onto the couch. The sleeve hit the porcelain vase, knocking it off the table. The shattering noise made Margaret cringe. She ran over to it, picking up the broken pieces, with tears welling up in her eyes.

"Look what you did!" She screamed bitterly. "That was a present from my husband!"

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry!" Linda cried. "It was an accident. Tears streamed down her face also; her body shaking uncontrollably. "I’ll get you another one, somehow." Linda's voice was soft as a whisper.

Margaret stood stunned, unable to move. Seeing Linda’s eyes, wide with fear, and her tear- stained face, made Margaret realize she didn’t mean to break it. "It’s all right, dear. Forgive me for yelling at you. You’re more important than any vase." She gave Linda a tissue and she took one. Linda wiped away her tears and then Margaret did too.

They all calmed down and Joan suggested they go into the kitchen, an idea Margaret readily agreed to.

"Linda, we’ll have lunch and forget this ever happened," Margaret said hesitantly. Nodding yes, Linda walked with her head lowered, but seemed grateful everything was alright.

"What would you like to drink?" Margaret asked, trying to lighten the chill in the air.

"Soda," came her one-word reply.

She started the coffee for Joan and herself, then went to the refrigerator for the soda and

sandwiches. She took them out and placed them on plates, on the colorful, assorted-flowered placemats she had bought earlier that week. She heard Linda whisper to Joan, "How did she know peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were my favorite?" She didn’t hear Joan’s answer, but it didn’t matter. She was sure they’d have a chance to become friends now. Margaret was very happy for someone needed her again. It was indeed a new beginning for both of them. She knew Linda needed her too, and she was no longer alone.