Eight

Maureen and George had towed Maureen’s sedan behind the RV so they could get around without driving the gas-guzzling motor coach everywhere. They were very comfortable at a small, friendly RV park just outside Fortuna. Most of the people they claimed as neighbors were passing through, visiting the redwoods, the coast, the mountains and the vineyards. They introduced themselves as George and Maureen and no one seemed the least bit interested in whether they were married. Most people did want a tour of their motor coach, however, as it was top-of-the-line and fancier than anyone else’s.

They had a very nice routine. They drove into Virgin River almost every day—George liked to help Noah around the church and his fixer-upper house, and Maureen liked to spend time with her daughters-in-law, both of whom she found far more entertaining these days than her sons. They often went to Catholic mass on Friday nights, then out to dinner afterward. On Sunday mornings they liked to listen to Noah preach; George took such personal pride in the young pastor’s skill. And watching the handsome young preacher stand before his congregation in jeans and a plaid shirt, his dog lying not far away, was something Maureen hadn’t thought she’d ever see. “You Protestants,” she said to George, laughing, “don’t know anything about the beauty of ritual.”

The real magic of Maureen’s life happened in or around the RV with George. Things she didn’t realize she’d been missing now fulfilled her—simple things like sitting on the sofa with her needlework while he sat not far away talking to the televised baseball games. George loved baseball and had a comment about every play! The difference between him being highly entertained or simply passing the time had everything to do with how much he talked to the TV. Baseball got lots of commentary; movies she selected for them got none until his eventual snore. She’d had no idea how much she missed the sound of a man’s snore.

Maureen sat on their small patio, the canopy extended over her, enjoying a cool morning breeze, while inside, George washed up the breakfast dishes. She couldn’t remember when she’d had someone to trade off kitchen chores with, and that brought her amazing happiness. And speak of the devil, he came out of the RV, the newspaper tucked under his arm and carrying two cups of coffee. He handed her the mug with one Stevia sweetener and a tiny bit of skim milk. Then he settled into the chair next to her with his black coffee and perused the headlines.

This was another thing she’d had no idea she’d longed for—a person to be quiet with. Someone to sit beside her, present, available but not invasive. For twelve years she’d been entirely alone and not lonely, and never realizing there was an alternative that could feed a need in her. Then George casually reached for her hand, holding it, and she was reminded of that other thing. She felt a zing of sweet affection balanced beautifully somewhere between passion and comfort.

Maureen had thought these feelings were so far behind her, she was surprised that a woman in her sixties could enjoy the same aspect of life that a bride in her twenties might. No, make that more, not the same. As a young woman she’d had inhibitions; she’d been self-conscious and difficult to arouse. Now, when her body was so much less appealing, she felt freer and more sure of herself. She gave a lot of credit to George, who helped her slowly build trust; George, who made her feel so beautiful and desirable. Maureen was the kind of woman who had pulled the sheet over her face during pelvic exams, even after birthing five children. Now, she showered with George sometimes. They laughed at how ridiculous they must look, their flesh so loose, the hair in private places all graying and thin. They laughed about how well those aging bodies seemed to work with a little unhurried coaxing.

She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking, George.”

“Scary,” he said.

“I’ve been awfully critical of my boys for avoiding love and commitment, for not settling down. I can’t count the number of times I asked them what in the world their father and I did to put them off marriage and family. I didn’t realize until recently, maybe they were aping my behavior. I thought I had no interest in a relationship. Or more honestly, that no man would have any interest in me. I had no idea what I was really doing was avoiding any possibility of that—the very thing my sons were doing until recently. For entirely different reasons, maybe. But the result was the same.”

“Different reasons?”

“I always thought that a couple of them, Luke and Aiden for certain, shied away from serious relationships because of their terrible marriages. But how do I know? I just didn’t want the complications in my life. I stayed completely away from social situations in which I might meet a man. Really, George—I had no idea I was avoiding it like I was. And I was so critical of women friends who were looking for love. I honestly thought they were acting like old fools.”

He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. “You’ve made this old fool very happy.”

“Do you know what I find myself wondering lately? If Patrick and I would ever have achieved this kind of life. He died almost the moment the last of five sons was out the door. And you know what else I realized? Our marriage was strong and there was a lot of love between us, but it was all business. We worked so hard to keep the family going. Not only didn’t we have a lot of leisure—we didn’t talk much.”

“I’ve been told I talk too much,” George said.

“Pah! That’s almost the best part of our relationship!”

He grinned. “I’m glad you said almost.”

“You are very pushy,” she said with a smile. “If you weren’t, I never would have had lunch with you, much less moved into your motor home. If you’d bet me a year ago I’d be doing this, I would have put my life savings against it.”

“We have a dinner date with your sons tonight,” George reminded her. “Luke isn’t very cagey—it’s always obvious when he has something serious on his mind. They’re going to give us a talking-to. Want to guess what it’s about?”

“Living in sin?” she asked with a wink.

“Do you think so?” he wondered.

“It’s just what I deserve. I would have been hell on wheels if any of them had informed me they were cohabiting with a woman without vows. George, why didn’t I start minding my own business years ago? No wonder they couldn’t stand to visit me for more than three days at a time.”

“Easy does it, sweetheart. If they wanted to live with a woman without the benefit of marriage, I’m sure they did as they pleased, even if they moved her out when you made that rare visit. Didn’t you say they usually came to you?”

“Usually.”

“And Sean stayed with Francine and Rosie for weeks, once he learned they were a family, though they weren’t married.”

“They did. And didn’t I just give them trouble about it for a while. Though Sean told me to get over it.” Her mouth formed a slight smile. “I was proud of him for staking his claim like that. Mothers shouldn’t be telling children over thirty how to live.”

“There you have it. Now, do you want to make this easy on them? We can always get married.”

“Yes, I think we should. But not for a year. This is a good idea—making sure we’re right for each other. We’re both too old to take ridiculous chances. Besides, I think God’s too busy with other things to worry about this much.”

He kissed her cheek. “As you wish. You can make sure I don’t have an alter ego who’s difficult and annoying.”

She put a hand on his bristly cheek. “I’m the one with the alter ego—she’s bossy and judgmental.”

“She’s been very well behaved lately,” George replied sweetly.

Much later that day, they went to Luke’s and had an extremely nice dinner with Luke, Shelby, Sean, Franci, Rosie and Art. After dinner, with the coffee and pie, Luke brought up the subject weighing on his mind. “So, Mom. George. We have some concerns about this plan you have to travel the world in an RV….”

George and Maureen looked at each other in sudden surprise.

“You have concerns, Luke,” Shelby said. “It isn’t necessarily unanimous.”

“I’m a little concerned,” Sean said.

“I’m not,” Franci weighed in.

Suddenly George and Maureen, eyes still locked, burst into laughter. When they finally quieted, Luke asked, “Is that funny?”

George pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his eyes. “Well,” he said. “Sounds like a hung jury.”

“Listen, I mean this in a very respectful way, but you’re seventy, and that’s a big rig you got there,” Luke said, leaning forward earnestly.

“It is,” George said. “I took a training course. It’s not something you can jump in and parallel park, you know. And I wanted a house on wheels. Your mother and I—we’re really not much for roughing it. And by God, we’ve earned some good times, I think.”

“I’m going to take a similar course on driving it, in case George is ever indisposed…” Maureen said. Then she chuckled.

“What about this is so goddamn funny?” Luke asked with irritation.

“Oh, it’s just that we thought you were going to hound us about not being married and living together,” she said.

“No one at this table would have the b—” Shelby cleared her throat. “No one should hound you about anything,” she said. “Especially a man who flew Blackhawks and rode motorcycles for over twenty years.”

“Shelby, if you don’t mind,” Luke said.

“I do mind,” she said, straightening and rubbing her hands over her huge middle. “I’m so happy about Maureen and George and their wonderful plans. It sounds like fantastic fun! And there’s no reason to worry. Now, if either of them were in the least infirm, we could talk about it, but…”

“I’ll drive slowly and only make right turns,” George put in. Then he grinned largely. He was clearly not taking the boys seriously.

Luke took a drink of his coffee and leaned toward them both. “You’re worse than having a couple of teenagers. I just want you to be safe. I don’t want to worry about you sliding off some mountain in that monster or ending up at the bottom of the Grand Canyon because your reflexes are a little rusty and you took a turn too wide.”

Maureen tilted her head and smiled at her son. “Well, then, Luke, if you don’t want to worry, don’t. George and I are very cautious and plan ahead.”

“Mom,” Sean attempted.

Franci stood. “Stop. You flew jets that go over five hundred miles an hour and are just back from Iraq—you aren’t allowed to take the temperature of anyone’s life choices. The way I see it, if you and I decide to spend our retirement in an RV, I just hope to God it’s as fancy as theirs. Now, this meeting is over. Who wants a drop of Courvoisier with their coffee?”

“I do,” Shelby said hopefully.

“Who besides Shelby?” Franci asked.

Aiden carried through exactly as planned—he brought Chilean sea bass, mushrooms, rice pilaf, baby green beans and cheesecake to Erin’s cabin for dinner and cooked with her. No bear. He found out that her undergrad degree was in accounting, so it was natural for her to pursue tax law. Law school? “I’d always been a good student and I saw potential. Once I started, I wondered if I hadn’t taken on more than I should have, but it worked out. What did you want to do?” she asked him.

“Save the world,” he said with a shrug. He thought maybe now would be the time to explain that he wasn’t exactly who or what she assumed. “I was a crew member on an ambulance team in college, my part-time job, and the senior EMT delivered a baby. It was the most awesome thing I’d ever seen and I—” The timer on the stove went off and he jumped up to pull out the fish, distracting her.

Through dinner they talked about the most important people in their lives—to Erin it was her brother, sister and her brother-in-law. She told the story of how Marcie found Ian Buchanan in this very cabin, before it was, in her opinion, habitable. How Marcie fell in love with him and married him. When she mentioned that Drew graduated from medical school, he thought it was the right time to tell her…. But the phone rang and she dashed to it. She was only on a second before disconnecting and, with a big smile, said, “Remember I told you Marcie and Ian are coming up for the long weekend—Fourth of July. Would you like to meet them?”

“I would. Definitely,” he said. “How is it you never married?” he asked her. “And don’t tell me you didn’t date, because any man with a pulse would ask you out.”

She flipped the subject on him. “I dated—though infrequently. But what about you? I can tell you’ve been a bar hound, out with a hundred women.”

He was shocked. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re confident, good-looking, and admit it—you’re good with women. I’m a terrible pickup and you have me doing exactly what you want!”

He laughed at her; he almost said something about how he had to be good with women in his business. And the things he’d seen in his work as a gynecologist absolutely ensured he wasn’t careless or frivolous about sex. “Nothing could be further from the truth! Honestly? The military keeps a guy busy and the only women I was meeting happened to be hospital staff. We had some fun, but it seemed like a bad idea to have too much fun, so it was just friends. You must have run into similar situations with colleagues? Lawyers you met on the job? Bottom line—no long-term relationships since my very miserable, very short marriage.”