Macaw

I sat at the antique oak dining table alone, sorting the mail of the last week. Most of the envelopes said, “Margaret Hargrave”. Bills. I put them in a pile to the right. A few were larger, more of a square shape. These read, “Maggie,” or “Mag,” or “Granna,” for the first name. Birthday cards. I had turned 64 this year. I put them on the left. After that, there were still a few that were addressed to “Percival Hargrave.” Civ. Those went in the trash. They were from people who didn’t know him, didn’t know that he couldn’t get the mail anymore. Didn’t know that he was dead. I sighed. I hated sorting the mail for that very reason. The heart attack that took him was so sudden. It had already been a year since he died, but I still felt like he was just on a business trip or something. At any moment he would come home. But that wasn’t the case.
I set my grim thought aside and set myself to the task of opening Birthday cards. One from an old friend who lived in another state. Several from my children. And one from my great-nephew, Shane. I chose that one to open. Shane was my favorite, and more like a son or grandson to me than my own sons and grandsons were. He was an ecologist, and had lately spent most of his time in the Peruvian jungles. He was coming soon for a visit, I expected that he would stay for a few weeks and then go back to Peru or some other exotic place. I perused his scratchy handwriting on the inside of the card.
“Happy Birthday, Granna Mag! Looking forward to seeing you in three weeks to give you your Birthday present. I’m a great nephew, aren’t I? Love, Shane.”
He ended all his cards and letters like that, “I’m a great nephew, aren’t I ?” He had ever since he was a little boy. His parents died in a car accident when he was ten, and he came to live with me. We both knew it was cheesy, but it was a running joke now and he knew it would make me smile, as I was now. I wondered what his present would be this time. He always got me something unusual. Last year he tried to take me deep sea fishing. That was before Civ died—oh, he got a kick out of that! He tagged along just to watch me trying to catch a shark, laughing the whole time. He had a great laugh. Thankfully, I caught nothing.
This time I had a surprise for him. He was 35 and still single, and I had plans for that to change. My new neighbor was a lovely young lady named Emily Norton. She was short and petite, with pretty auburn curls and freckles. I had noticed that she had quite a collection from traveling all over the world, and I thought she might be just right for him. Shane expressly prohibited it, so I had never done this before. “I’ll find her when I find her,” was his response to those who asked when he would get a wife. He wanted no interference. But Emily was special and I couldn’t leave it to chance. I would have to be subtle, but I was determined they should meet.


Several weeks later, there was an expected knock at my door. It was Shane. I gave the spaghetti sauce I was cooking one last stir with the wooden spoon before going to answer the door. My spaghetti sauce was Shane’s favorite--he asked for it every time he came to visit. I put down the spoon and hurriedly walked to the door. It had been a while since he last visited, and I hadn’t realized how lonely I was without Civ. I opened the door with a big smile on my face, which faded in amazement as I was confronted with a giant birdcage which contained a beautiful Blue and Gold Macaw. I had never seen anything like it this close.
Shane popped his head around the corner. “Happy Birthday, Granna!”
“Happy Birthday!” The bird echoed.
I was speechless.
“we’ve been working on that for weeks!” He looked at me anxiously, but still grinning. “Don’t you like it?”
I took a breath. “Why…yes…I….What…?”
“Oh, Granna!” he said as though I was being silly. “It’s a Macaw. His name’s Riccardo.”
“Is…is this my Birthday present?” I asked incredulously.
“Happy Birthday!” the bird shrieked again, while Shane said, “Of course!”
He had really topped himself with this one.


The next day I stood with Shane examining the bright bird whose cage now occupied my living room.
“Where am I going to put him?”
“You can put him right in here.”
“I’ve got a crush on you,” croaked Riccardo.
I looked at him doubtfully.
“No really, it’ll be great. We can put him right over here in the corner by the window. He’ll practically be like a piece of art. Great conversation starter.”
“Hello, Sweetie!” said the bird.
Shane was so enthusiastic, I began to think it was a good idea. But what was even better was that it gave me an idea.
“You know Shane, I don’t even know how to take care of a Macaw.”
“Oh, I’ll show you. You’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but Shane, I really worry that I won’t do it right.”
“Well, Granna, I can give you the guidebook I bought and you can learn all about him.”
“But surely he is so much more comfortable with you. Couldn’t you stay for a while and help him adjust to being here?”
He looked at me for moment, then slowly comprehension crept over his face.
“You’re lonely, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.
I hadn’t quite expected that. The kid was too smart for his own good. I decided that if playing the lonely card would get him to stay longer so he could meet Emily, I would do it. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy his company as well. I tried to put on a “I’m-a-poor-lonely-old-woman” face.
“Well, since Civ died, I just….” I let my sentence trail while looking down in a wistful manner.
“Oh, Granna! Of course I’ll stay with you! I don’t really need to work until the fall, so…how ‘bout if I stay the rest of the summer with you? Would that help?”
“Oh, yes, Shane, that would do my heart a world of good,” I said truthfully.
“Then it’s settled.” And it was.
Now to get him and Emily to meet.


I had a plan. Shane was a good-hearted person and he loved me, but I knew that after a while he would become restless staying at my house. It only took about two weeks, and I was honestly surprised he lasted that long. He had, by that time, fixed almost everything that could possibly need fixing around the house and I knew if I didn’t find something to distract him he would soon be talking me into some wild scheme. I had no desire to go ice fishing in Alaska or snorkeling in Florida. Again.
I found him moving things around in my garage.
“Shane? What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna paint your garage, Granna. This thing hasn’t been painted in years. Look at it! It’s disgraceful,” he announced.
“How long will that take?”
“Oh, just a day or two.”
“And what will you do after that?”
Well, I’ll…um…well, I’ll think of something.”
I smiled and shook my head. We were both silent for a time as I looked around the garage and he continued moving everything to the middle.
“You know, Shane,” I began casually, “I have a new neighbor who just moved in a few weeks ago. I bet she could use some help.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm,” was all he said.
I decided not to push it right then. I waited for a few days. He soon finished the garage, and unbeknownst to him, I had an appointment at the vet for Riccardo that afternoon. He would be all alone with nothing to do. I thought this would be an opportune time.
“I’m taking Riccardo to the vet this afternoon.”
“Why? He’s not sick.”
“No, but I want to make sure he’s doing alright and doesn’t get sick.”
“Okay. Well, what time do we leave?”
“Well, I thought I’d go alone this time. To bond with Riccardo, you know. I read that Macaws need to bond with their owners. Besides,” I continued. “You won’t be around forever. I’ve got to learn to take care of him on my own.”
“Okay…um, well…okay, then,” he seemed at a loss.
I waited.
“Granna?”
“Yes, Shane?”
“What should I do?” He asked, just like he had when he was a boy.
I pretended to think about it. “Why don’t you go over to my neighbor Emily’s house and see if you can help her with anything? I’m sure you could at least mow the lawn for her—have you looked at it lately? The grass is getting obscenely tall.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea!” he seemed relieved. “I’ll do it!”
“Great. I’ll go call Emily.”
A short time later, after I had called Emily and sent Shane over to meet her, I got into the car with Riccardo to go to the vet. I smiled happily, thinking my plan was going quite well. Before long we arrived at the veterinary office. I pulled Riccardo out and checked us in at the front desk. We sat waiting in a plain two with two other “patients”. One was a tall man with a fluffy white toy poodle and the other a fat woman and her hamster.
“Ms. Hargrave?” Called the receptionist.
“Yes?”
“Dr. Morrison will see Riccardo now.”
“Thank you.” I followed her through the swinging door to the examining room at the back. The doctor was a tall man, broad of shoulder and gray of hair. He looked about my age, actually. I was surprised. I wondered at him still working when most men would have already retired.
“Hello,” he said in pleasant voice, “I’m Dr. Kenneth Morrison. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.
“Margaret Hargrave. Maggie,” I said as I shook his hand.
“This must be Riccardo,” he said looking at the bird.
“Yes.”
He carefully checked him over, and then took some blood samples, just to be careful. He wrote a prescription for a supplement that I could give him if I wanted to, if I was worried about him.
“We’ll call you if there’s any problems with the blood samples,’ he told me.
“Thank you, Dr. Morrison.” I turned to leave.
“You can call me Kenneth,” he said to my back.
I stopped and looked back, surprised. “What?”
“Kenneth. You can call me Kenneth. Or Ken.”
I must have looked baffled because he hurriedly continued.
“It just seems silly for you to be calling me ‘Dr. Morrison’ when we are so close in age. I mean, I assume you’re close to my age. Maybe I’m wrong. Err, how old are you?”
“Now, Doctor, don’t you know it’s impolite to ask a woman her age?” I asked sternly, but was inwardly amused.
“I’m so sorry!” He apologized, aghast.
“How old are you?” I fired at him. I was curious.
“Sixty-five!” he exclaimed without thinking, still embarrassed by his faux pas.
“Yes. A sixty-five year old man ought to know better.”
“I’m so sorry!” He said again.
“I accept your apology,” I said gravely.
“Thank you,” he said, with obvious relief.
“Well, then. I suppose we’ll continue to come here for Riccardo’s checkups.” I turned again to leave.
“And Doctor?” I called over my shoulder.
“Yes,” he replied soberly.
“You can call me Margaret.”


When I came home I put Riccardo back in his cage and went looking for Shane. I found him in the kitchen, eating ravioli.
“So, how did it go?” We both spoke at once.
“What?” I said, confused.
“What?” He seemed confused, too.
“Uhhmm…” I began.
“How did the appointment go?” He broke in.
“Oh! Great. It went great. Um, Riccardo is just fit as a fiddle as far as Kenneth can tell, and—“
“Kenneth? Who’s Kenneth?”
“Oh,” I felt myself blushing. How ridiculous, at my age! “I meant Dr. Morrison. His name’s Kenneth. He said I could call him Ken.
He raised his brows at me.
“I’ve got a crush on you!” I could hear Riccardo from the other room. Apparently his previous owner had liked Frank Sinatra.
“Now, now. Don’t get any ideas. It’s just that he’s about my age and it seemed silly for us to be so formal.”
“I see.” I think he saw a little too much.
I quickly changed the subject. There was absolutely no reason to be talking about Ken. Dr. Morrison. Kenneth.
“How did it go with Emily?”
He seemed startled by the question, but said in a rather absent way, “Oh, fine. Fine. Nice girl.”
“Well, what did you do?”
“Hmm? Oh! I mowed the grass for her and fixed a valve on her toilet. Nothing big. Tomorrow I’m going back over to help clean the garage and fix the door. She was going to go buy a brand new door, but I told her there was no need, I could take care of it.”
“Where did you get the ravioli?” I knew I hadn’t made it, and Shane was rather lacking in the cooking department.
“Emily made it. Really good, too. You want some, Granna?”
“No, no, I’m fine, thank you.” I wanted to know more about what he thought of Emily, but I decided it was better not to push things too quickly.


One week later, I found things progressing quite nicely. Shane had been over to Emily’s every day since the first day. As soon as she was home from her job at the Rec Center at five o’clock he was right there. He was there, in fact, right now. While I didn’t doubt that she really did need his help around her house, I dared to hope that there was a little more to it than that. I was washing dishes and musing over my hopes when I noticed my cell phone beeping. Someone must have called while Shane and I were weeding the garden earlier and left a message. I finished washing the last dish, shut the water off and dried my hands. I dialed my voicemail and listened.
“Hello? Ms. Hargrave? This is Kenneth. Dr. Morrison? I’m calling about Riccardo’s blood tests. One of them came back a little, um, abnormal. Please call me at the office as soon as you have a chance.”
I put a hand over my fluttering heart. Riccardo’s blood test abnormal? I grabbed the handset and looked up the number in the little phone book I kept nearby. I glanced at the clock as I worriedly waited for someone to pick up. It was six o’clock. Past closing time. My heart sank as I got their messaging system. I told their machine why I was calling and hung up. What was wrong with Riccardo? I hurried to the living room where he sat in his cage. I was growing to love this crazy gift of Shane’s. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want him to be in pain. I open the cage door and reached for him.
“I’ve got a crush on you!” he squawked. He stepped onto my forearm, and I took him next door to see Shane. I wanted to tell him about the call. When he saw me with the bird, he stopped what he was doing and came over to us.
“Everything alright, Granna?”
“Oh, Shane! Dr. Morrison called! He said Riccardo’s blood test was ‘abnormal’.”
He put his arms around me, awkwardly because of Riccardo perched on my arm. “It’s okay, Granna. It’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing big. Tomorrow you can call them and find out what’s going on.”
“How can I wait that long?” I knew I was slightly overreacting to my bird being sick, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“Well, what if you call ‘Kenneth’ at home? If he’s willing to let you call him by his first name, I’m sure he won’t mind if you call him at his house.”
“You think so?” I asked doubtfully.
“Absolutely. Here, I’ll go with you. Let me just tell Emily what’s going on.” He ran into the house and was back just as quickly, Emily with him. “Emily wants to come too. Is that okay?” I told him it was.
We all stood in the kitchen around the phone book, Shane, Emily, Riccardo, and me, while I looked for Dr. Morrison’s number. I found it and dialed, waiting while it rang. Soon, a male voice answered.
“Hello, Dr. Morrison? Um, Kenneth?”
“Yes…?”
“It’s Margaret Hargrave. You called about Riccardo’s tests?”
“Yes—“
“I didn’t get the message until after your office was closed, but I couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Doctor, what’s wrong with Riccardo?”
I heard him take in a breath. “Well, Margaret—if I may still call you that?”
“Of course, of course,” I told him, urging him on.
“The truth is, Maggie, I lied about Riccardo. I figured that was the only way you’d call me back.”
The silenced stretched between us. I was stunned.
“Maggie?”
“I’m here,” I said faintly. I took a breath and asked, “Dr. Morrison, why would you lie to me like that? Didn’t you realize how concerned I’d be? I thought Riccardo was dying!” Shane and Emily were looking at me with perplexed expressions. I turned from them to look at the kitchen cabinets.
“I…I’m sorry!” He bumbled. “I just…well, I wanted to see you. I mean, I wanted to ask you to dinner.”
“What? Why didn’t you just call and ask me out like a normal person?” I heard Shane in the background at this comment, but I waved him off and walked into the other room.
“I was nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve asked a woman on a date. When I got your voicemail, I sort of panicked.”
“Are you insane? Why would you think that telling me my bird is ill would make me want to go out with you? That doesn’t even make sense. You’re a doctor, for crying out loud!”
“I know. I know. I realize now that it was a very bad idea and it was very, very wrong. I’m so sorry to have upset you like this. It definitely wasn’t my intention. It’s just…my wife and I were married for thirty-two years before she passed away from liver cancer. It’s been three years now, but this is the first time I’ve even had the desire to even try to have another relationship. I’m really nervous. I’m sorry.”
I pursed my lips, and then let out a sigh. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I guess it’s kind of sweet, in a really bizarre way.”
He was quiet a moment, and then, “Margaret? I know that there’s probably no chance you’ll say yes, but if you would let me make it up to you, I would love to take you out for dinner on Friday.”
This man was crazy. But I could tell he meant no harm, and I felt bad for him. Without really thinking, I said yes. He was overly ecstatic, and told me he’d come by my house around 7:30 on Friday. I said goodbye in a daze. I put my finger to my eye to stop the twitching, closed my cell and slipped it back into my coat pocket. I moved slowly into the kitchen, where Shane and Emily stood talking quietly while Riccardo moved up Shane’s arm, across his shoulders and down his other arm.
“Hello, Sweetie!” he called out to me.
Shane looked up and immediately came over to me. “Granna, what’s going on?”
“He asked me out.” I said, almost surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth.
“What!?”
“He asked me out,” I repeated. “He only said that about Riccardo so I would call him back.”
“What? That’s crazy! What did you say?”
“I said yes.”
“You—you did?” Shane was incredulous.
“Yes,” I told him, abashed. He must think I was losing my mind. I waited for him to tell me I was crazy, that there was no way I should go, that Kenneth was crazy. Instead he was grinning.
“Granna, that’s wonderful!”
“It is?” I wasn’t sure.
“Of course! You need someone in your life, Granna. You shouldn’t be alone like you are. You are too wonderful, you deserve to have someone to appreciate you.”
“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s just one date. I’m only going so he can make it up to me, really. The man clearly has issues.
“Sure, Granna. Of course,” he said with a placating tone.
“My funny valentine…” Riccardo mumbled.


Friday came all too quickly. Emily came over beforehand to help me get ready, in womanly tradition, for my date. I nervously paced in the living room. What was I doing, going on a date? My husband barely in his grave a year, and here I was, going on a date with an odd, bumbling doctor. He was so unlike Civ. Civ was easy going, but he always had it together. He always looked just so, always had the right thing to say. He would never have bungled things the way Kenneth had. It was a new experience, and a strange one after being married to Civ for so long.
Ken pulled up to the house in a red sports car. I was a bit amused. I walked out to meet him before he could come to the door.
“Really?” I asked, gesturing to the car.
He blushed a bit. “Hey, it’s every man’s dream. Can you blame me?”
“A little stereotypical, isn’t it?”
“I don’t care about that sort of thing.”
“Good to know,” I approved.
We arrived at the restaurant shortly thereafter. We sat down and looked over the menus. I ordered an iced tea to drink. We talked a little about this and that. I confided my hopes for Shane and Emily. He mentioned that if it didn’t work out he had a lovely granddaughter that Shane could meet, and we laughed about that. They brought my drink and we ordered our dinner. He told me about his wife. They brought our food, and I told him about Civ. The waiter began to clear the dishes and asked if we wanted any dessert. We didn’t. The silence stretched between us. I was searching for something to say, when he spoke up.
“Did you know I have a blue and gold Macaw just like Riccardo?”
“Uh…no. You never mentioned that.”
“Her name’s Ginger.”
“Ah.” I drank some of my tea.
“Maybe sometime she and Riccardo should meet. It’s good for birds to socialize, you know.”
“Is that true or are you just saying that so you can have an excuse to see me?” I accused him.
“Oh. Um, I didn’t…no. I mean, yes, it’s true. But it’s not an excuse to see you. I mean, I would like to see you again, but not like that. Not because of an excuse, I mean. I’d just like to see you.”
I smiled at his fumbling for words. “I think Riccardo would like it if Ginger came for a visit.”
“Oh, good.” He seemed uncertain.
I touched his hand and he met my eyes. “I’d like it, too,” I told him gently.
He grinned at me.

***********


I sat at my old dining table, sorting the mail. Most of the envelopes were addressed to me. Most people had stopped sending mail for Civ by now. Some were bills, some cards or letters. I chose one with handwriting I recognized and opened it. It read,

“Dear Granna,
Emily and I are having a wonderful time in Peru! She is a great help to me in organizing all of my data and research—when I get any research done, that is. We are newlyweds, after all. I hope you will think about my offer for you and Ken to come down after the wedding. It’s beautiful here.
I was very sorry not to be there for your Birthday this year. I hope Riccardo and Ginger liked the gift I sent. I’m a great nephew, aren’t I?
Love, Shane.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up. Ken was smiling down at me.
“How are Ginger and Riccardo getting along?” I asked him.
“They’re doing just fine,” he told me. “Come and see.”
I followed him into the living room where Shane’s birthday present, a very large new cage, held two Blue and Gold Macaws.
“I’ve got a crush on you!” squawked Riccardo.
“Love me tender,” Ginger called back.
“Seems like a good match,” I commented.
“Yes, it does,” he said, looking meaningfully at me.