Monday, August 6, 2018

Licorice Every Friday

 

As he was riding down State Street on the trolley, headed towards Pine Point, Jimmy Flagg was reflecting back on the day he got married. They had known each other such a short time, but Irene was adamant, she knew they loved each other and nothing was going to change by waiting. He remembered kneeling in St. Michael's Cathedral and making a commitment to a life together with Irene. He also remembered the sound of the rain striking the stained glass, the dreariness of their wedding day making him apprehensive. A sideways glance at his his bride kneeling, erect and regal beside him, gave him assurance that everything, somehow, was going to be alright.

Now, after having not spoken to his wife at all for months, he was headed to see his mother-in-law on Hood Street, unsure of how he would be received. He climbed the steps to the porch and knocked on the door. Within a few moments, the lace curtain on the front door moved and a heavy set woman opened it. "Jimmy," she said, "You know you don't have to knock."

Much relieved, he replied, "I didn't want to just barge in on you."

"Come in, come in." The sound of her voice was welcoming. He should have known she would never refuse the father of her grandchildren. Grandmother DeGriere led him into the dining room and sat in her rocker as he pulled up one of the chairs and sat down. She looked her son-in-law in the eye and asked, "Well?"

Where should he begin? This was the first time they had seen each other since that night when he and Irene had that awful fight eight months earlier. Noting his hesitancy, Grandma DeGriere spoke first. "Jimmy," she told him, "you really don't have to explain anything."

But of course he did, and so he tried to justify his presence. "By chance I ran into Robert, on Boston Road, and he wants to be able to see me. Irene won't let me come to the house, so I wanted to know if I could visit with my son here from time to time." Grandma DeGriere looked at him in silence, an expression of intense thought on her face. He knew that Robert was her favorite grandson and he knew she was contemplating what was best for the child. Jimmy found himself losing his nerve.

"I'm sorry I bothered you," he said abruptly, and made a motion to leave. "Just sit you right there and let me get you a piece of pie." Grandma DeGriere commanded. "Apple or blueberry?" Jimmy was overwhelmed with the generosity of her gesture and didn't know how to answer. "In that case," Grandma DeGriere declared, "it will be apple." She disappeared into the kitchen for a couple minutes and then returned. "There," Grandma DeGriere said, placing a big piece of apple pie in front of him, topped by a dollop of Friendly's vanilla ice cream. "Pie always solves everything."

"I wish it were that simple," he said. "Right now everything just looks so complicated." Jimmy looked at his piece of pie, picked up his fork and took a bite. "Nothing should taste this good," he thought. Breakfast had been toast and coffee.

"Boys need a father," Grandma DeGriere declared, "and so does your daughter. Is it just Robert who wants to come here to meet you?" Jimmy explained that he didn't know for sure, but hoped the others would come. For the time being, he just wanted to arrange a reunion with his youngest son.

"I would be happy to help arrange a meeting," Grandma DeGriere said, "but I will do nothing behind my daughter's back. I'll tell her tonight about what you proposed, and urge her to accept it. Of course with Irene you can never predict her response, but come by tomorrow at the same time and I will tell you her answer."

That night Jimmy could hardly sleep in the small room he was renting in a flophouse apartment building in the North End of Main Street near the St. George Greek Orthodox Church and across from a Cadillac dealership. He recalled the terrible scene that had unfolded the last night he was with his now estranged wife. He had been drinking since noon with money he had gotten from his job working at the Blue Moon Cafe as a cook. In recent years he had turned the skills he had honed at the Pine Point Lunch into an off and on culinary career of sorts.

When Jimmy had finally arrived on Hood Street, Irene was upset by how much of his meager pay had vanished at the bar before he got home, and the harsh words began, not for the first time. In a drunken rage, he had knocked Irene to the floor. At that point his son Walter had come running into the room and pushed his father so hard he fell over. "If you ever lay a hand on my mother again," Walter shouted, "I'll kill you!"

"How dare you raise your hand against your own father!" Jimmy had hissed from the floor. "I hereby completely disown you as my son! Do you understand? You are dead to me!"

Jimmy stormed out of the house, and to that day he had never been back. He had made small overtures through back channels to try and get his wife to talk to him, but Irene rejected all his overtures. Would her mother have more success? He could only wait until the next day to find out.

So once again he took the trolley up to the Point and knocked on the door of his mother-in-law. He knew the answer he sought as soon as he saw her face. "Everything has been arranged as you wished," announced Grandma DeGriere with a wide grin. "You can meet with Robert here on Friday after he gets out of Dorman at 3:15." Today was Tuesday.

Over the next two days Jimmy was surprised by how impatient he was for Friday to arrive. He missed his kids, even if he didn't particularly miss his marriage. Friday he had a lunch of a beer and a sandwich at the cafe next to the pharmacy located at the intersection of Plainfield and John Streets. After his lunch, he went into the pharmacy next door and bought a red and yellow box of licorice for a nickle. Then Jimmy caught the trolley and was soon back in Pine Point, arriving at his mother-in-law's at 2:45.

Grandmother DeGriere greeted him warmly, but Jimmy fretted about the reunion. "How should I act when I see him?" he asked about his son. "Just be yourself," was her reply.

A few minutes before 3:30 there were footsteps on the porch. The lace curtain on the door fluttered wildly as it flew open and there stood Robert Flagg. Their brief meeting on Boston Road outside the library last week, which had occurred by chance, had been public and unemotional. This time however, Robert flew into his father's arms and they hugged for a long moment. Jimmy was glad that Robert couldn't see the tears that welled in his eyes.

The rest of the visit went well. In some ways it seemed as if nothing had changed. Grandfather DeGriere joined them as Grandma DeGriere served her wonderful pies. Robert filled his father in on the family news, but when his mother was mentioned, Robert simply said, "Mother still doesn't want to see you." Jimmy accepted this with a simple nod. Later they listened to The Borax Twenty Mule Train program Death Valley Days on the radio. When it was time to leave, Jimmy remembered the box of licorice and handed it to his son.

"I love licorice!" Haskin exclaimed, something that Jimmy hadn't known when he purchased the box.

As weeks passed, every Friday Robert and his dad would meet at Grandma DeGriere's. Soon, Robert was joined by his sister Sally, and then Haskin started coming by after he got out of Buckingham. They had fun times, with Jimmy always bringing them some licorice each Friday. 

But his wife Irene and his son Walter never came, as a bell cannot be unrung.

 

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