Breathing Lessons (1989 Pulitzer Prize) - Anne Tyler [78]
"I told Ira, 'Why not just stop off and visit,' " Maggie said. "We were up this way anyhow, for Max Gill's funeral. Remember Max Gill? My friend Serena's husband? He died of cancer. So I said, 'Why not stop off and visit Fiona. We wouldn't stay but a minute.' " "It feels funny to see you," Fiona said.
"Funny?" "I mean . . . Come inside, why don't you?" "Oh, I know you must be busy," Maggie said.
"No, I'm not busy. Come on in." Fiona turned and led the way into the house. Leroy followed, with Maggie close behind. Ira took a little longer. When Maggie looked over her shoulder she found him kneeling in the yard to tie his shoe, a slant of hair falling over his forehead. "Well, come on, Ira," she told him.
He rose in silence and started toward her. Her annoyance changed to something softer. Sometimes Ira took on a gangling aspect, she thought, like a bashful young boy not yet comfortable in public.
The front door opened directly into the living room, where the sun slipping through the Venetian blinds striped the green shag rug. Heaps of crocheted cushions tumbled across a couch upholstered in a fading tropical print. The coffee table bore sliding stacks of magazines and comic books, and a green ceramic ashtray shaped like a row-boat. Maggie remembered the ashtray from earlier visits. She remembered staring at it during awkward pauses and wondering if it could float, in which case it would make a perfect bathtub toy for Leroy. Now that came back to .her, evidently having lurked all these years within some cupboard in her brain.
"Have a seat," Fiona said, plumping a cushion. She asked Ira, "So how're you doing?" as he ducked his head in the doorway.
"Oh, passably," he told her.
Maggie chose the couch, hoping Leroy would sit there too. But Leroy dropped to the rug and stretched her reedy legs out in front of her. Fiona settled in an armchair, and Ira remained standing. He circled the room, pausing at a picture of two basset puppies nestled together in a hatbox. With the tip of one finger, he traced the gilded.molding that lined the frame.
"Would you like some refreshments?" Fiona asked.
Maggie said, "No, thank you." "Maybe a soda or something." "We're not thirsty, honestly." Leroy said, "/ could use a soda." "You're not who I was asking," Fiona told her.
Maggie wished she'd brought Leroy some sort of present. They had so little time to make connections; she felt pushed and anxious. "Leroy," she said too brightly, "is Frisbee a big interest of yours?" "Not really," Leroy told her bare feet.
"Oh." "I'm still just learning," Leroy said. "I can't make it go where I want yet." "Yes, that's the tricky part, all right," Maggie said.
Unfortunately, she had no experience with Frisbees herself. She looked hopefully at Ira, but he had moved on to some kind of brown metal appliance that stood in the corner-a box fan, perhaps, or a heater. She turned back to Leroy. "Does it glow in the dark?" she asked after a pause.
Leroy said, "Huh?" "Excuse me," Fiona reminded her.
"Excuse me?" "Does your Frisbee glow in the dark? Some do, I believe." "Not this one," Leroy said.
"Ah!" Maggie cried. "Then maybe we should buy you one that does." Leroy thought about that. Finally she asked, "Why would I want to play Frisbee in the dark?" "Good question," Maggie said.
She sat back, spent, wondering where to go from there. She looked again at Ira. He was hunkered over the appliance now, inspecting the controls with total concentration.
Well, no point avoiding this forever. Maggie made herself smile. She tilted her head receptively and said, "Fiona, we were so surprised to hear about your wedding plans." "My what?" "Wedding plans." ' 'Is that supposed to be a joke?'' "Joke?" Maggie asked. She faltered. "Aren't you getting married?" "Not that I'm aware of." "But I heard it on the radio!"