"Half of my life is gone, and I have let the years slip from me and have not fulfilled the aspiration of my youth . . ." and have not fulfilled the aspiration of my youth . . ."

"Beautiful, isn't it, Novalee. And so apt." Miss Holloway dabbed at the corner of her eyes. "Longfellow went to Bowdoin, too. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. And now . . . it's Forney's turn."

"Yes, I guess it is."

321.

"Anyway, I have some papers for Forney to sign. Just some legal work for the city. So we can close things out."

"But what about the library?"

"We already have an architect to draw up plans for the new building. And Mayor Albright's daughter will take over, run things for us. A lovely girl. She has a degree in library science and she's a librarian now in Dallas, but she wants to come back here. Her mother's our incoming Literary Guild president. A fine family."

When a car pulled up at the curb, Retha Holloway motioned to the driver, an elderly man. "Well, Novalee, here's my ride. Nice to talk to you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And when you hear from Forney, please tell him to get in touch with me."

Novalee stood on the sidewalk until the car was out of sight, but the sound of Retha Holloway's voice had been left behind.

. . . now he can get on with his life . . .

Novalee had been in bed an hour when the phone call came, but she wasn't asleep. She dressed quickly, woke Lexie to tell her she was leaving, then slipped out of the house as quietly as she could.

The night was muggy and still. When she drove past the bank, she noticed the temperature was eighty-four.

She parked across the street from the Majestic Hotel, then sat in her car for a few minutes watching the windows of Forney's room, watching his shadow cross the shades.

The lobby was empty except for one old man, shrunken like a museum mummy and slumped into a corner of a stained couch.

322.

Forney's smile was in place when he opened the door as if he had been rehearsing while she knocked.

"Hi."

His hair was still wet from the shower and he had a fresh razor cut on his chin.

"h.e.l.lo."

She started to hug him, but it caught him off guard and by the time he realized what was happening, she had backed off a step and stood awkwardly in the doorway, her hands hanging at her sides.

"Come in," he said.

As she stepped through the door and slipped past him, she smelled the soap he had bathed in. Something lemony and sweet.

"I'm sorry I called so late."

"I'm glad you did."

"Did I wake everyone up?"

"No."

The lights were on now, an overhead bulb and a lamp by the bed, so for the first time she really saw the room. The walls were papered with faded forest scenes; the furniture looked like painted army surplus.

The only decoration was a framed print of a sad clown.

"How was your trip?"

"Long."

"Did everything go all right?"

"All right?"

"I mean with the ceremony. Your sister . . ."

"Mary Elizabeth." Forney nodded, then said her name again as if he needed to hear the sound. "Yes. Well, there was no service, nothing like that. There was no one there. Just me. And Mary Elizabeth. But no one else."

"Forney, are you okay?"

323.

"Oh yes," he said, but he turned away, looked at the clown on the wall. "Well, I guess I am."

Novalee shifted her weight from one foot to the other and Forney shoved his hands into his pockets. A toilet flushed in a room above them. To cover the sound, they both spoke at once.

"While you-"

"I wanted-"

"Novalee, would you like to sit down?" Forney made a hospitable gesture, but there weren't many choices. A metal office chair with a cracked vinyl seat, and the bed. Novalee took the chair.

"You must be tired," she said.

"A little."

"I was beginning to worry. When you weren't back by Wednesday . . ."

"I stayed longer than I intended. Rented a car. Acted like a tourist.

I had forgotten how lovely it is there. Very different from here."

"I'll bet."

"You know, my mother and father were born there. Mary Elizabeth, too. I never really lived there, except when I was in college, but it felt almost . . . familiar."

"Skowhegan, you mean?"

"Well, that whole part of Maine. Skowhegan, Waterville, Augusta, Brunswick."

"Brunswick. That's where you went to college?"

"Yeah. I drove over there to poke around for a couple of hours and wound up staying two days. Spent some time on campus. Bowdoin has a great library. Saw a couple of professors I studied with. One of them has a new book coming out."

"Sounds exciting."

Another silence settled on them, but this time they waited it out.

324.

"I thought about you, Novalee."

"Forney . . ."

"I wanted to talk to you, but I thought what I had to say . . . well, it wouldn't seem right over the phone."

"What did you want to say?"

"It was about the last time we were together. I was afraid . . . I mean, I wondered if I might have, uh, hurt you or something."

"Hurt me?"

"I suppose I wasn't very . . . well, I was worried that I might have been clumsy . . . not exactly . . . gentle."

"No, Forney. You didn't hurt me."

"I wouldn't want to, Novalee."

A noisy compressor in the window air conditioner kicked on and the lights dimmed for just a second.

"So, what's happening here?"

"Not much. Lexie found a place. A duplex. They'll be moving out on the first."

"You'll miss her."

"She won't be far away. Right across from the school."

"How's Americus?"

"Fine. She's going to be Annie Oakley in the Western Days Parade on Sat.u.r.day."

"I brought her a book." Forney dug in an opened suitcase on the bed behind him and came up with a package wrapped in red paper.

"The Maine Woods. Th.o.r.eau. We had two copies in the library here, but . . ." Th.o.r.eau. We had two copies in the library here, but . . ."

"Retha Holloway wants to see you."

"Any plans yet for the new library?"

"Yeah, but I don't think you want to hear it."

"What?"

325.

"Well, Retha said the mayor's daughter is going to be the new librarian."

"Oh, I'm not surprised. Albright's wanted to move her in for a long time. But that's okay. It's time for something new." Forney wiped his hand over his face, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I hear they're hiring at the plastics plant."

Novalee had seen the workers from Therm.o.f.orms come into Wal-Mart to get their checks cashed-tired men and women, their ID badges still clipped to their pockets.

"Novalee?"

Unsmiling men and women waiting for the thin stack of bills they got paid for pushing the same plastic forms down the a.s.sembly line day after day, week after week.

"Novalee, are you okay?"

"Sure."

"You were a thousand miles away."

"Forney, what about teaching. You said once you wanted to be a teacher."

"Well, that was a long time ago."

"But if it's something you want, then time doesn't matter. Time doesn't matter at all."

"What I want, Novalee . . . what I want, is to be with you. To be with you and Americus."

"Forney."

"I love you. I love you more than anything in the world and when we were here together . . . when I had you in my arms . . ."

"Forney, maybe we made a mistake. I don't know how it happened or why it happened when it did. But maybe it wasn't the right time for us. Maybe we . . ."

"Novalee, did you . . . did you make love to me because you felt sorry for me. Was that it?"

326.

"Oh, no. Don't think that."

"Because if that was the reason . . ."

"No, Forney. It wasn't."