(phone ringing)
Brigit: (answers): Hello?
Muriel: Brigit? It’s me, Muriel. How have you been?
Brigit: Oh Muriel, I’m fine. You know what they say, ‘Time heals’. I think I finally believe the old cliché. How are the kids?
Muriel: Great, Sam has another one on the way, Jess is still travelling, lucky girl, and Jen brings her rabble over frequently for me to watch. I think she likes the break, and I love see the little ones.
Brigit: That’s good, all sounds lovely.
Muriel: Brigit, you won’t believe me when I tell you who got in touch with me the other day!
Brigit: Who?
Muriel: It was just entirely out-of-the-blue! Henry Miller.
Brigit: Wasn’t he…?
Muriel: …yes!
Brigit: Oh wow. That is indeed a flashback.
Muriel: I know! It was a long time ago.
Brigit: Well, he always fancied you quite a bit, so I suppose it is lovely that he has gotten back in touch.
Muriel: Brigit! It was not that at all. And that is not true either. He preferred you. I know he did.
Brigit: It doesn’t matter either way. We need not go there again!
Muriel: Remember how we used stay up all night talking about him? How we would measure every little thing that he did or said to try and understand him more?
Brigit: I just remember how affable he was; always ready to drive us places, introducing us to his myriad of college-age friends. He really looked after us. My, but we were so young; so eager.
Muriel: I just decided I wanted to know as many people as I could, especially if they were attending college. St. Claire was just so small, I just knew there was more out there.
Brigit: So what did Mr Miller have to say?
Muriel: Well, actually, he asked after you. That didn’t surprise me.
Brigit: Really? What did he say?
Muriel: Oh, you know how he is. He was polite, asked about me, knew I had kids, and then asked how you were. He was tentative. I told him you were well, considering, and that he should ask you himself. he didn’t know what I was talking about, but (and I think he blushed) because he certainly gushed, he said he was only contacting me because it turns out my Sam is working with a niece of his, and somehow Sam’s name got mentioned. With a surname as rare as mine, I suppose he recognized it, and explored further. But I know that ultimately, he wanted to know if I was in touch with you. I just know that that was the reason.
Brigit: Did you ask how he is? How is he? Where is he?
Muriel: He is fine. I have his address and number if you want…
Brigit: Oh don’t be silly, Muriel. What would I do with those? Time heals, but I am no longer the young soul I used to be.
Muriel: Nonsense, we are as young as we choose to be.
Brigit: I am tired. Too tired.
Muriel: You aren’t alone, Bridge, you don’t need to be alone. Be tired! But don’t be alone.
Brigit: You always read too much into everything, jumped before there was a cliff and, well, I suppose it worked out just perfectly for you. I am happy to hear that Henry is well. I have always wished the best for him. Those times we shared, when we laughed on the beach, stayed up long after our curfews, those days were then, Muriel, they do not transfer to now. Chapters and books have turned and been shelved, not to be re-read. But it is nice to hear he is ok.
Muriel: I gave him your number.
Brigit: (sighs) And? And what is that supposed to mean? Good. I am glad you were friendly and obliging. Stop stirring the non-existent pot, Muir, really. I am too tired. Long past all of this. It is not necessary to light a fire when heat is not needed. I’m fine, and I am happy you are too, and I am happy Henry is, and we are all fine.
Muriel: You don’t have to be alone. He is alone, now you are, it makes sense. I know it does.
Brigit: It was nice hearing from you, Muriel, take care of yourself.
Muriel: Don’t be like that!
Brigit: Goodbye Muriel.
Muriel: I know he will call.
(click)