A Short Story by David Gifaldi
My feelings were as mixed as a martini fresh from the shaker when I left Maggie at her new school today. I walked out to a day fired in sun, but with a head full of doubts. Was this the right thing? She’s so young. I couldn’t believe our little girl was going off to her first day of school and that I, I, had been the one to leave her there in the company of perfect strangers. The other mothers stood like refugees, huddled for mutual support in the outdoor foyer, their faces somber, jaws tight, eyes overbright with the flush of emotion. “I’ll be strong,” I told myself, nodding my empathy to them. Then I walked with head down across the street, looking back only once, my body suddenly stunned by the raucous blast of a car’s horn, warning me of impending doom. I stopped not a moment too soon, feeling the rush of air as the car sped by, the driver’s middle finger arched in anger or annoyance. “What did it matter which?” I asked myself, my weighted legs dragging the rest of my body to the nearest coffee shop.
With coffee in hand, I sat down at a table and looked at the clock. Fifty-five minutes to go until I would pick up our baby. With a sigh, I opened my magazine and tried losing myself in the words of others, but deep down, tiny pricks of misgivings…self-accusations. Betrayal? Placing my needs first? Is my life that much more important than little Maggie’s? Is my time that valuable? “Villain!” something deep inside shouted. “Quisling!” I stilled the vacant-eyed voices with another swish of coffee and forced my finger to follow the words on the page.
An eternity later, I arrived breathless at the place that had paired itself in my mind with Gethsemane and the exchange of thirty pieces of silver. The woman at the counter said, “Let’s see how she’s done,” as if there was a question. I pushed the bad thoughts away. And then there she was, Maggie!, wiggling, nudging, bubbling over, every muscle pulsing with excitement at her first day of school. I laughed. I shook my head. I felt joy shoot like electricity from my head to my toes. “Oh, girl!…Oh, baby!”
Together again at last, we imparted our love to each other. Then the woman handed me Maggie’s report card. Maggie had worked on making friends. She had excelled in the quest, having the most fun playing with Nigel. “Nigel,” I thought. “God bless you, Nigel.”
Nigel’s mom was as glad as I was to know that all had gone right. We compared reports, babbling, the words flying by too fast to be fully comprehended. But it didn’t matter. We had our babies back. Before leaving, Nigel’s mom suggested a play date.
“Tomorrow?” she said.
Her face had turned angelic and ten years younger in her happiness, wisps of hair curled across one cheek.
“Maggie’s busy tomorrow,” I said. “But – I’m free.”
She laughed at the joke. Then walked away with Nigel in tow, looking back once to show me the smile that lingered on her face.
“School is gonna be fun,” I told Maggie as we headed out the door.
Did she roll her eyes, or merely swish them to take in the late-leaving Bichon Frise across the street?
Note: David Gifaldi has published eight books for children and young adults. He is a retired teacher, having taught elementary, high school, and college students. He lives in Brockport.
