{"id":3716,"date":"2020-07-01T15:07:55","date_gmt":"2020-07-01T22:07:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/?p=3716"},"modified":"2020-07-01T15:07:55","modified_gmt":"2020-07-01T22:07:55","slug":"the-same-woman-margot","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/archives\/3716","title":{"rendered":"The Same Woman (Margot)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Throughout his life, Andrew meets women who are immediately familiar to him, though he has never seen them before. He met the first when he was a little boy in 1955<\/a>, the second in 1962<\/a>, the third in 1966<\/a>, the fourth in 1970<\/a>, the fifth in 1978<\/a>, the sixth in 1987<\/a>, and the seventh in 1993<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 1998 Andrew and his wife Luisa both turn fifty\nand celebrate their eleventh wedding anniversary. Their children Owen and Lily\nboth turn sixteen and enter their junior year of high school. Andrew and Luisa\nare writers and musicians and live with Owen and Lily in a beautiful house ten\nmiles north of Vancouver, British Columbia. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two years ago, a movie based on Andrew\u2019s play Their Summer Holiday<\/em>, was a resounding\nsuccess and prompted a big American publisher to bring out new paperback\neditions of Andrew\u2019s four collections of short stories. Adding to this good\nfortune, theatre companies in England and Canada began staging four of Andrew\u2019s\npreviously unproduced plays, and now Luisa is about to publish her first book,\na story collection entitled Rainy River and\nother stories. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the height of this propitious ferment, Andrew\nand Luisa\u2019s literary and theatrical agents Penelope Goldstein and Judith\nPerlman announce their impending retirement. Penelope is seventy-four, Judith\nseventy-five, and they recently celebrated, as Judith put it, \u201cOur fiftieth\nyear of working together and living together and encouraging each other to keep\nup the good fight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So in April, Andrew and Luisa leave Owen and Lily\nin the care of friends and fly to Montreal to meet with the three young agents to\nwhom Judith and Penelope are selling their agency, and to meet with two older\nagents recommended by Judith and Penelope in case Andrew and Luisa are not\ninclined to go with the younger agents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew and Luisa arrive in Montreal in the late\nafternoon, check into their hotel, and have supper with Jason Moreau who\ndirected Andrew\u2019s two most successful plays and is currently directing the\nfirst production of Andrew\u2019s newest play, The\nCarpenter\u2019s Song<\/em>, which will open six weeks from now, after which Jason\nwill celebrate his eightieth birthday and retire from directing unless, he says\nwith a twinkle in his eyes, \u201cYou write another play too good to resist.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next morning, Andrew and Luisa take a cab to the\nGoldstein Perlman Agency, soon to be renamed QBP after the three new\nprincipals, Rory Quarterman, Jean Bateau, and Sylvie Pierre, who gather in their\nelegant conference room to introduce themselves to Andrew and Luisa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew likes Sylvie, a long-limbed gal with short\nred hair, and Luisa likes Jean, a petite brunette, but Rory, who handles\ntheatrical works and movie tie-ins, is appalling to both Andrew and Luisa. His\nsmiles are forced, he rolls his eyes at things Sylvie and Jean say, and twice\nduring the half-hour meeting leaves the room to take calls, much to the chagrin\nof Sylvie and Jean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lunching with Judith and Penelope after the QBP\npresentation, Andrew and Luisa express their misgivings about Rory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWelcome to 1998,\u201d says Judith, greatly relieved\nto be getting out of the business. \u201cBefore this era of Young Adult novels, dystopian\nfantasies, vampires, wizards, and fifty million cookie-cutter murder mysteries,\nRory would have sold real estate or cars. He doesn\u2019t read, you know, and I\u2019m sorry\nto tell you this, but if you weren\u2019t already successful, QBP would have nothing\nto do with you. You\u2019re both too old, you don\u2019t crank out murder mysteries, and\nyou seem intent on writing things for intelligent adults.\u201d She laughs. \u201cWhat\u2019s\nwrong with you?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhich is why we thought you might prefer Margot Mounteney\nand Kelly Vogel,\u201d says Penelope, who is looking forward to puttering in her\ngarden, walking the dogs, and spending winters in Hawaii. \u201cMargot is your age\nand Kelly\u2019s a little older, she\u2019s brilliant, he\u2019s mad for plays, and they both\ncare about the quality of the writing they represent, which makes them throwbacks\nto that bygone era when we first came into the business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd they\u2019re barely surviving,\u201d says Judith, with\na warning in her voice. \u201cYou would change their lives if you signed with them,\nwhich is not a reason to do it. But you would.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next morning, after breakfasting with Jason\nand two young directors eager to make Andrew\u2019s acquaintance, Luisa and Andrew\ntake a cab to the offices of Mounteney & Vogel in an old three-story office\nbuilding in a quiet part of the city. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

While Andrew and Luisa wait in the small reception\nroom, they chat with the agency secretary Darla, a charming woman in her early seventies\nwith a British accent, long gray hair in a bun, and pince-nez suspensefully balanced\non the tip of her nose. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI love all your plays,\u201d <\/em>says Darla, gazing at Andrew and Luisa sitting close together on\nthe small sofa across the room, \u201cand I especially love Their Summer Holiday.<\/em> I enjoyed the movie, too, but the dialogue in\nthe play just crackles and I\u2019m a huge fan of crackling dialogue. Crave it.\u201d Her\neyes widen. \u201cI must say you are a very handsome couple and the light is\nexcellent right now. Would you mind terribly if I took your picture?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t mind, do we?\u201d says Andrew, checking with\nLuisa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot at all,\u201d says Luisa, who is ready to go with Mounteney\n& Vogel based on their secretary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Darla gets out a small Leica, takes several\npictures and says, \u201cOh these will be lovely. The light is just perfect. Lovely,\nlovely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI feel anointed,\u201d says Luisa, beaming at Darla.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you send us your favorite?\u201d says Andrew,\nhoping he likes Margot and Kelly as much as he likes Darla.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI will,\u201d says Darla, putting her camera away. \u201cAnd\nI will brag and tell you that my photos of authors have appeared alongside many\nbook reviews and have graced several book jackets.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now a man and a woman come down the hallway from\ntheir offices and stop on the threshold of the reception room\u2014a lanky fellow\nwith short gray hair and a slender woman with shoulder-length black hair, the\nman wearing wire-framed glasses and a gray tweed suit with a red bowtie, the\nwoman wearing a scoop-necked black dress, her reading glasses attached to a\nnecklace of colored beads hanging around her neck.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWelcome, welcome,\u201d says the man, bounding across\nthe room to shake Andrew and Luisa\u2019s hands, his accent the vestigial Scottish\nof Newfoundland. \u201cI\u2019m Kelly Vogel and this is Margot Mounteney.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Margot crosses the room to greet them, her beauty more\napparent as she draws near, and Andrew feels he has known her and loved her\nforever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They gather in Margot\u2019s office, Margot at her\ndesk, Kelly a few feet to her left, Andrew and Luisa in small chairs facing\nthem, the desk largely free of clutter, though every other space in the office is\npiled high with manuscripts and correspondence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have a computer,\u201d says Margot, her accent\nmildly British, \u201cthough I still mostly write by hand and my mother types everything\nup.\u201d Her brown eyes sparkle. \u201cDarla is my mother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe heart and soul of the agency,\u201d says Kelly,\nnodding to affirm this. \u201cShe\u2019s currently training her replacement, a great\nyoung gal named Vanessa, but we\u2019re not looking forward to Darla retiring.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPenelope gave me the galleys of your Rainy River and other stories<\/em>,\u201d says\nMargot, smiling at Luisa. \u201cI was enthralled from start to finish.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMargot and I both handle books,\u201d says Kelly, laughing\nnervously, \u201cbut plays are my passion. We aren\u2019t a big agency, obviously, and we\njob out movie stuff to another agency with offices here and in Los Angeles, but\nwe\u2019re very good with foreign rights and we have great relations with editors in\nCanada and New York who still care about good writing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you would do well with QBP,\u201d says\nMargot, unconvincingly. \u201cThey\u2019re very up to date with their methods and\nsensibilities, whereas we are among the remnants of the old way.\u201d She shrugs\npleasantly. \u201cAnd that\u2019s our high-powered sales pitch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would just add,\u201d says Kelly, putting his hands\ntogether in casual prayer, \u201cthat with us you will always be happy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA bold assertion,\u201d says Andrew, liking Kelly very\nmuch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t mean you<\/em>\nwill always be happy,\u201d says Kelly, laughing. \u201cI mean you will always be happy\nwith our efforts on your behalf, even should we fail.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew and Luisa invite Margot and Kelly to lunch,\nand when Margot hesitates to accept, Luisa intuits the hesitation is about\nmoney and adds, \u201cOur treat. We\u2019re feeling flush. Please take us somewhere you\nlove.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They walk a few blocks in the gentle spring\nsunlight to an old high-ceilinged restaurant called Leo\u2019s<\/em> and are greeted by an energetic man with wavy white hair and\na thick Italian accent who claps Kelly on the shoulder and kisses Margot on both\ncheeks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou stay away too long,\u201d he says, smiling fondly\nat Margot. \u201cWe wonder where you were. It will just be a moment for Juan to make\nyour table ready. Is so good to see you again. And you bring friends. A\ncelebration perhaps. Right this way, please. The lamb is so fresh I think they play\nin the meadow this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He seats them at a large table in the far corner\nof the mostly empty room, hands them menus and says, \u201cWe have a red wine we\njust get from Bordeaux to make the tears come to your eyes. Pellegrino for your\ntable?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Margot nods and their host hurries away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas that Leo?\u201d asks Andrew, looking from Kelly to\nMargot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat was Joe,\u201d says Margot, putting on her\nreading glasses to peruse the menu. \u201cLeo was Joe\u2019s older brother who died when Joe\nwas a little boy in Italy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now a middle-aged woman with reddish brown hair and\na lively bounce in her step comes to the table and fills everyone\u2019s glass with\nbubbly water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe missed you,\u201d she says to Kelly and Margot before turning to Andrew and Luisa and gasping, \u201cOh my God, you\u2019re Andrew Ross.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know you<\/em>,\u201d\nsays Andrew, smiling curiously at her. \u201cBut I can\u2019t quite\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGina DuPrau,\u201d she says, her eyes brimming with\ntears. \u201cI was in the first Montreal production of your play Extremely Silly Ariel Gets Wise. <\/em>A\nmillion years ago.\u201d<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were not just in the production,\u201d says\nAndrew, holding out his hand to her. \u201cYou were Ariel and you were brilliant,\nand you changed my life forever in the best of ways.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m so glad to see you,\u201d she says, taking his\nhand. \u201cAnd while we\u2019re holding hands I\u2019ll tell you I love Their Summer Holiday<\/em>. The play and<\/em>\nthe movie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is my wife Luisa,\u201d says Andrew, transferring\nGina\u2019s hand to Luisa\u2019s. \u201cAnd you know our agents Margot and Kelly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d says Margot, startled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOur agents,\u201d says Luisa, raising her glass of bubbly\nwater. \u201cWe knew the minute we met you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh dear,\u201d says Margot, covering her mouth. \u201cI\nmight cry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe, too,\u201d says Kelly, fighting his tears as he\nraises his glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now they clink glasses and drink and Andrew says\nto Gina, \u201cWe would love a bottle of the red wine from Bordeaux that Joe spoke so\nhighly of.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The good wine poured, lunches served, Margot says\nto Luisa, \u201cYour bio in your story collection says you were a chef before\nbecoming a writer. And though I\u2019m sure you already know this, I will plant the\nseed that a novel or a novella and stories set amidst the culinary arts would\nbe an easy sell in the wake of Rainy\nRiver<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr a play set in a caf\u00e9,\u201d says Kelly, who is\npleasantly tipsy and no longer nervous. \u201cThe\nTime of Your Life<\/em> with espresso. God we need good plays.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWith a part for our waitress,\u201d says Andrew, who\nhad a crush on Gina when she was starring as Esme twenty-five years ago, but he\nwas too shy to ask her out. \u201cHow did she not become famous? Did you see her in\nthe play, Kelly? I\u2019ve never seen another actor so completely own an audience as\nshe did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI went seven times,\u201d says Kelly, loving the wine.\n\u201cAnd she would<\/em> have become a big star\nhad she not married that horrid man and had two kids with him and then he left\nher with nothing. And she\u2019s been starring here at Leo\u2019s<\/em> ever since.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe never know what\u2019s going to happen, do we?\u201d says\nMargot, looking at Luisa. \u201cWe didn\u2019t think we had a chance against QBP, and now\nhere we are celebrating with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina comes by and asks, \u201cHow we all doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everyone raves about their food, another bottle of\nthe same good red is ordered, Gina goes to fetch the wine, and Andrew says, \u201cSpeaking\nof never knowing what\u2019s going to happen, with your permission I would like to\ntell a rather long story.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPermission granted,\u201d says Margot, nodding regally.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina returns and shows the bottle to Andrew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He nods his approval and says, \u201cHave you got a few\nminutes, Gina? I would love for you to hear the story I\u2019m about to tell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She opens the wine, pours a bit in each of their\nglasses, sets the bottle in the middle of the table, glances around the now\nfull room and says, \u201cI\u2019m good for a few.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExcellent,\u201d says Andrew, having a sip of his\nwine. \u201cSo\u2026 my two stories that became Extremely\nSilly Ariel Gets Wise <\/em>were two of the very first stories I ever wrote. They\nwere first published in The Weekly Blitz<\/em>,\na Vancouver free weekly, and then a wonderful guy named Mark Kane turned those two\nstories into a play and got the play produced at the Kleindorf, a small theatre\nin Vancouver. We got good reviews, the play ran for seven weeks, and I made\nseven hundred dollars, so I was not about to give up my carpentry gig. Then a\nfew weeks after the play closed at the Kleindorf, Mark called and said someone\nnamed Jason Moreau wanted to stage the play in Montreal if<\/em> we were open to honing the dialogue with him. We said we were open\nto honing and Extremely Silly Ariel Gets\nWise <\/em>was a big hit, mainly because of Gina\u2019s extraordinary performance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kelly and Margot and Luisa and Andrew applaud Gina,\nand she bows comically low and bumps her head on the table, to which she reacts\nby hopping around on one foot as if she stubbed her toe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut then,\u201d says Andrew, when their laughter\nsubsides, \u201cbecause of the play\u2019s success, Penelope and Judith, who were Jason\u2019s\nclose friends, agreed to represent me and soon thereafter sold my collection of\nshort stories The Draft Dodger and other\nfables<\/em> which launched my writing career. And I have no doubt it was your\nperformance, Gina, your revelatory interpretation of Esme that made the play a\nhit and fueled my launch. And I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re very welcome, Andrew,\u201d she says, placing a hand on her heart. \u201cAnd though I appreciate your praise more than you will ever know, I will modify a line from that long dead British guy and say, \u2018The play\u2019s the thing wherein you captured the hearts of your audience, and I was but the lucky mouthpiece for your words.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

First thing the next morning Luisa goes to the\noffices of Mounteney & Vogel to sign the contract making her their client,\nafter which she spends the rest of the morning at her publisher\u2019s working on\nthe page proofs of Rainy River and other\nstories<\/em>, meeting with Sales, and posing for promotional photos before going\nto lunch with her editor and the editor-in-chief to celebrate the stellar\npre-publication reviews for her book. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

While Luisa is thus occupied, Andrew meets with\nPenelope and Judith and signs various documents pursuant to transferring his\ncontracts to Mounteney & Vogel, after which he goes to see Margot and Kelly\nto sign the contract making him their client.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

However, Kelly is away from the office schmoozing\nwith a theatre director and Margot is on the phone with a hysterical client, so\nDarla visits with Andrew until Margot is free.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you have a new play in the works?\u201d she asks, sharing\na pot of strong black tea with Andrew, her desk their table. \u201cOr a novel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never written a novel,\u201d he says, doubting he\never will. \u201cAnd in the two years since the movie of Their Summer Holiday<\/em> came out I haven\u2019t started anything new, though\nI did manage to finish the play and the collection of stories I was working on before<\/em> the movie came out. But nothing\nnew has come to me since.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI suppose an enormous success like that can be a shock\nto the system,\u201d she says, sipping her tea. \u201cAre we the agents now for that play\nand collection of stories?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes and no. The book has already been sold, but\nthe contract is now with you. The\nCarpenter\u2019s Song<\/em> and other stories.<\/em>\nAnd the play is opening here in Montreal in about seven weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh The\nCarpenter\u2019s Song<\/em>,\u201d she says, beaming at him. \u201cI live three doors down from\nJason Moreau and we often walk our dogs together in the morning. He\u2019s\nabsolutely thrilled<\/em> with your play.\nSays it\u2019s your best yet. I didn\u2019t realize it was based on a short story. You\u2019ve\ndone that before, haven\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA few times, yes,\u201d says Andrew, glad to know\nDarla and Jason are friends. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd when you were writing the story, did you\nsense it would make a good play? Or do you think all your stories would make\ngood plays?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would say everything I write comes to me as scenes\nI watch and transcribe.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The phone on her desk rings quietly and she\nanswers, \u201cMounteney & Vogel. Who\u2019s calling, please?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew removes to the other side of the reception\narea so as not to intrude, and a framed photograph on the wall captures his\nattention\u2014Margot standing between two handsome young men, the younger Margot in\nthe picture closely resembling a woman Andrew was madly in love with when he\nwas in his early twenties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat was yet another of our writers calling in distress,\u201d says Darla, beckoning Andrew to return to her. \u201cThat\u2019s what Margot\u2019s doing right now, trying to talk one of our writers out of burning the manuscript she worked on for three years before she ran out of ideas and now she can\u2019t figure out how to wrap things up.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe literary agent as psychotherapist,\u201d says\nAndrew, considering this. \u201cI\u2019ll keep that in mind for my next nervous\nbreakdown.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI suppose all writers live in fear of running out\nof ideas,\u201d says Darla, nodding sympathetically. \u201cDo you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, because I don\u2019t write from ideas. I know many\nwriters do, but the few times I\u2019ve tried to write a story or a play from an\nidea, nothing would come to me. Not a word.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo does that mean when you were writing your book\nof stories about carpenters you didn\u2019t first have the idea to make such a\ncollection?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he says, recalling the thrill of those\nstories pouring forth. \u201cIn fact, I wrote the first four stories without really\nknowing they were separate stories because I didn\u2019t read those pages until I\nwas nearly done with what turned out to be the fifth story and it dawned on me I\nmight be writing separate stories with recurring characters. So then I read the\npages and discovered they were, indeed, five stories, each about a carpenter,\nand each of those carpenters knew the others. But even then I didn\u2019t think I would\nwrite more<\/em> stories about carpenters\nbecause, as I told you, if I write from a preconceived notion, nothing comes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo let me ask you this,\u201d says Darla, lowering her\nvoice. \u201cCan you tell from the writing if the writer has decided ahead of time what\nto write, or if the writer writes as you do without forethought?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlways,\u201d says Andrew, nodding. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan you describe the difference?\u201d she asks\nexpectantly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGive me moment,\u201d he says, musing for a time. \u201cIn\none I hear the words being manufactured by a mental machine, and in the other I\nhear a spontaneous song. Like a child singing as he plays, free of anyone\nelse\u2019s rules about what a song should be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI remember Margot singing those kinds of songs\nwhen she was a little girl,\u201d says Darla, writing on her notepad free of anyone else\u2019s rules about what a\nsong should be. <\/em>\u201cHow happy she was.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew treats Margot and Darla to lunch at a\nnearby Chinese restaurant, and over green tea and fortune cookies Darla tells\nthe story of how she came to Canada fifty years ago, pregnant with Margot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was a lonely young woman living at home with my\nparents in Devon, writing a novel in feeble imitation of Jane Austen, a novel full\nof the romance I longed for, when along came Paul Westerby, a dashing Canadian vagabond\ntravelling about with knapsack and easel, painting not-very-good landscapes of\nthe English countryside. He romanced me and slept with me for a few glorious\nwine-drenched months, and when I told him I was pregnant and we should marry,\nhe fled back to Canada and I pursued him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you travel by boat?\u201d asks Andrew, especially enjoying\nMargot\u2019s enjoyment of her mother\u2019s tale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I flew to Montreal,\u201d says Darla, pouring more\ntea into each of their cups. \u201cIt was 1947 and air travel was very expensive and\nstill quite an adventure, but my mother gave me the money because she was just\nas eager as I to run the rogue down.\u201d She laughs. \u201cMy father, on the other\nhand, was a severe melancholic and reacted to my pregnancy by staying home from\nwork and moping in the garden. He was a reluctant accountant and preferred a\ndark corner of the pub to the desk in his office.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd where, Mother, did you finally run the rogue\ndown?\u201d asks Margot, gently steering her mother back to the main story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn the snooty suburbs of Toronto,\u201d says Darla,\ndisappointed all over again despite the intervening fifty years. \u201cMy dashing\nvagabond turned out to be the pampered son of a wealthy cigarette magnate, his\nmother a humorless socialite. Paul refused to see me, and his mother took his\nside, so I appealed to Paul\u2019s father and he said he would arrange for an abortion,\nexcept by then I was four months along and wanted to keep my precious child, so\nhe gave me ten thousand dollars, which was a fortune in those days, and I moved\nto Montreal and we\u2019ve lived here ever since.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you ever meet your father?\u201d asks Andrew, finding\nMargot more and more attractive the longer he\u2019s with her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA few times,\u201d says Margot, exchanging glances\nwith her mother. \u201cHe came to visit when I was seven and took us out for ice\ncream. Then he came again the summer after I graduated from high school and\ngave me a check for five hundred dollars, which I immediately spent on clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe was running the family business by then,\u201d says\nDarla, making a sour face. \u201cRich as Croesus and smelled like an ash tray.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd the last time we saw him,\u201d says Margot,\npausing for effect, \u201cwas just a few years ago when he came to the agency and\nasked us to find a publisher for his autobiography.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you?\u201d asks Andrew, amazed by the audacity of\nthe old rogue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d says Margot, looking at her mother. \u201cBut we\nread the manuscript with great interest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid he do justice to that momentous summer in\nDevon?\u201d asks Andrew, feeling sure the rogue must have. \u201cYour love affair and\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot a word about me,\u201d says Darla, shaking her\nhead. \u201cAnd not a word about Margot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYet he wanted us to find a publisher for his badly\nwritten book of lies,\u201d says Margot, closing her eyes. \u201cAn arrogant humorless man\nwith a perpetual sneer on his face.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut when I was twenty-one,\u201d says Darla, remembering\nback to that summer in Devon, \u201cand he came tramping across the field of ox-eye\ndaisies overhung by a blue blue sky full of snowy white clouds, a strapping\nyoung man with an easel on his back, smiling like a sunbeam, I could only think\nto love him.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They return to the offices of Mounteney & Vogel\nand Andrew has his first meeting alone with Margot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you be coming back to Montreal?\u201d asks Margot,\nsitting down at her desk. \u201cFor the opening of your play?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d he says, sitting in a chair on the client\nside of her desk. \u201cI\u2019ll be back in four weeks.\u201d He raises two fists. \u201cFor the\nfinal push. Last minute dialogue tweaking and anything else Jason wants me to\ndo. And then we\u2019ll stay for dress rehearsal and the first few performances.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh so Luisa\u2019s coming with you,\u201d says Margot, sounding\nrelieved. \u201cWonderful.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll be here for dress and opening night and\nthe party after,\u201d he says, nodding. \u201cAnd I\u2019ll be here for two weeks before she\ncomes. We wanted to bring the kids for the whole shebang, but they refused.\nSaid they didn\u2019t want to miss the last few weeks of school. Can you imagine?\nWhen I was sixteen I would have given anything to skip school and hang out in a\nbig theatre watching professional actors bring a play to life. But they love\ntheir teachers and their friends and wouldn\u2019t think of missing the last days of\nschool before summer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you be staying with Jason?\u201d she asks, reluctant\nto meet his gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the plan. Just three houses away from your\nmom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd me,\u201d she says, looking at him. \u201cI live with\nher.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh,\u201d he says, the frisson between them profound.\n\u201cI\u2026 I wouldn\u2019t have guessed that. I had you living with some lucky guy, a professor\nof\u2026 I don\u2019t know\u2026 Archaeology.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh really,\u201d she says, laughing. \u201cA lucky Archaeology professor. Not an unlucky professor of Literature?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI really like you, Margot,\u201d he says, laughing\nwith her. \u201cAnd I have to tell you\u2026 the moment I saw you I had the feeling I\u2019ve\nknown you and loved you forever. And when I told Luisa that, do you know what\nshe said?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d asks Margot, holding her breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe said she felt exactly the same way, that we\nare a trio of soul mates.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen I won\u2019t be afraid of you anymore,\u201d says Margot, coming around her desk as Andrew rises to meet her\u2014their embrace both a confirmation of their love and proof they need not be lovers to be as one.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

fin<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Love\u2019s Body<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Throughout his life, Andrew meets women who are immediately familiar to him, though he has never seen them before. He met the first when he was a little boy in 1955, the second in 1962, the third in 1966, the fourth in 1970, the fifth in 1978, the sixth in 1987, and the seventh in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[1361,858,106,5978,5957,5977,5962,5628,5974,448,5976,51,5953,5972,5973,9,33],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3716"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3716"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3716\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3719,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3716\/revisions\/3719"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3716"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3716"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3716"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}