Page 48 of Maybe Some Other Time
Thelma winced. “Most ladies preferred not to back in my day.” The corner of her mouth twitched as she grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the island counter and cut it up to go with her wine. “But they weren’t unheard of. My friend Sandy liked them. Was always trying to get me to try them.” The knife continued to hit the cutting board with a satisfyingclickevery time she sliced through a “Cosmic Crisp.”So many varieties of things these days.Thelma had been overwhelmed by the choice in fruit at the grocery store the first time she saw things like durians and dragonfruit, but one of the stores they visited had a helpful employee who let her sample whatever she wanted.Dragonfruit? Yes. Durian?That was a nope.
“You talk about Sandy a lot,” Megan observed. “Was she a neighbor?”
With the knife now lying on the cutting board, Thelma arranged her apple slices neatly on a Scarlet Fiestaware plate and brought them over to the table. She gestured for Megan and their guest to help themselves, but they were more interested in the wine Thelma drank. Megan helped herself to her father’s stash while Emma remained behind.
“She was my dearest friend. We went to college together. In fact, she was my maid of honor at my wedding.”
“When did you get married?” Emma asked. “Do you have pictures?”
“Not on me, no. But I got married in 1950. In the little Lutheran church I grew up in.” She hated how much her mind continued to drift back to church. “Sandy was by my side all day. My mother joked that it was like I was marrying Sandy instead of Bill.”
Thelma sipped the wine. It wasn’t until she put the glass back down that she realized Emma was staring at her—more so than she had before, and Thelma was a dang time traveler.
“I see,” the young woman said.
Megan returned with two more glasses of wine. “We’ve got pictures around here somewhere. Dad was born a year later, right?”
“Yes. Didn’t take long.”
Both girls now stared at her.
“What is it?”
They opened their mouths.
“Are you…”
“Did you…”
Thelma’s teeth snapped through a sweet slice of apple. “Please don’t ask me about my marriage right now.” Another bite. She talked with her mouth full. “It’s not polite.” Honestly, the last thing she wanted to talk about was what she and Bill got up to on their honeymoon.All while I thought about Sandy.She often wondered if Sandy thought about her during those two weeks.We didn’t talk about it when I came back.Two months later, Thelma was pregnant with Robbie, and Sandy was excited for her friend.The most she ever said was how much she missed me at school.In truth, Thelma missed school as well. Even now, when she confirmed her college no longer existed as she remembered it.
“I never met my grandpa,” Megan said to her girlfriend. “He died like almost twenty years before I was born.”
“He was a good man.”
“Do you miss him?”
Thelma was taken aback by her granddaughter’s inquiry. “Of course I did. He was my husband. I’ve had to mourn him as if he died in real time, you know.”
“By the way,” Emma cut in. “Dinner smells great, Mrs. Van der Graaf.”
“Thank you. Not sure how you smell it already since it’s barely been in the oven for fifteen minutes, but… thank you. I always quite thought I was a good cook.”
Emma held up her wineglass. “Cheers to that.”
The three of them toasted not only Thelma’s cooking, but her style, and the fact that she was there at all. Emma had a million questions, starting from Thelma’s “beauty routine” to what life had been like in thethirties,since she remembered it well. Emma was an Asian Studies major who had a special interest in domestic American migrants, and Thelma had insight into not only how people treated Asian immigrants in the LA area in the mid-century, but also had firsthand experience in dealing with Oklahoman refugees. She also offered to give Emma Pauline’s contact info, but then realized she didn’t know the number off hand.
“You still don’t have a cell phone?” Emma asked.
“No. The FBI doesn’t think I should have one for the first six months I’m here. It’s too much of a security risk, I guess.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Megan said. “She’s a faster typist than me.”
“I learned on a typewriter in high school and used it quite often in college,” Thelma proudly said. “Mistakes arenotallowed on a typewriter.”
Emma’s questions then circled to what Thelma thought of “the future,” but Thelma wanted to ask her a few questions instead. Namely, how it was being an openly homosexual couple in the modern age.
Both girls were shocked by that.
