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We were wrapping up the conversation when Maga said, “And it’s Tuesday, so thank you so much for calling.”

“Actually, it’s Wednesday.”

“IT IS?!”

“Yup.”

“Well where were you yesterday?”

“It’s more like where were YOU yesterday?”

“Oh, you know, I was out to dinner with T & B.”

“…dinner with T & B.” (I chimed in since this wasn’t the first time we’d talked about her dinner companions tonight.) “I called you twice last night!”

“You did? Did you leave any messages?”

“Yes. Both times with your caregiver. The first time she told me when you were expected back home. The second time when you still weren’t back yet (that T is a talker!), she told me she’d tell you I called.”

“She didn’t tell me.” Maga sounded mildly, borderline enraged.

“Not to worry, Maga,” I soothed, giving the caregiver the benefit of the doubt over Maga’s short term memory. “That’s why I called back tonight. And that’s why I said ‘Is it really you?’ instead of ‘Hi, Maga’ when you picked up the phone.”

“Oh. Well,” she chuckled. “Good thing you’re persistent. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Such a sexy character trait. Hmm, maybe I should add that to my dating profile?

“When’s your next trip,” Maga asked.

“Thursday.”

“Oh, I’m having visitors on Thursday too.”

“My mom and dad, right?”

“Yes!”

“I’m also headed west, but not quite to Colorado.”

“And why are you going there?”

“To celebrate my friend’s bachelorette party.”

“Is this a friend from work?”

“No. We have mutual friends in common.”

“Oh. So this is for her wedding shower?”

“Not exactly. The bachelorette party is more like a celebration of her last, wild night out before she has to settle down into marriage.”

“Oh my. We didn’t do anything like that when I got married. Is she from [city we’re going to]?”

“Nope. She’s from here. She’s local.”

“Do you know her from work?”

“No. From mutual friends.”

“I’m glad I’ll have visitors this weekend too.”

“Me too.”

“And if you ever get the urge to travel out west to my area, the invitation’s always open.”

“I always have the urge to see you, Maga! I’ve been out twice already this year which is once more than my usual, but I’m hoping to get another trip out to you under my belt.”

“You have been out twice, haven’t you?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.”

Although sometimes the urge not to repeat myself 15x does lead me to stretch the truth from time to time… ;)

The first call was on a train. Too much background noise to hold a conversation with a 96yo.

The second call was too short. Too little time between my friend finishing up and dinner needing to be ordered.

The third call hit a snag as I was unlocking my door and my neighbor, thinking it was his fiancé on the front porch, appeared in the doorway in an outfit not entirely fit for public consumption. My laughter confused Maga who demanded, “Why are you laughing?” as if I was the one being inappropriate. If only she could see what I did.

I tried to explain it, but this being our third time trying to connect this week, me being constantly on the move was too much for her brain to process.

“And how are you?” I steered the conversation back to neutral ground.

“I’m 96. That’s how I am.”

Apparently NOT a safe topic choice. I tried again. “Have you ever been to Maine?”

“Oh yes. Nila Slaven used to invite Nana and I up to visit. She had a tennis court and such.”

“Who?”

“Nila Slaven. She was very wealthy.”

“With a tennis court at her house? I’ll say. Did she have any children for you to play with?”

“No. I don’t believe she was even married.”

“Wow. And all that money?! That’s a story I’d love to hear.”

“She met Nana on a boat to Europe and they became fast friends. She’d invite us up every summer for a couple of weeks.”

“Oh, yes, Blue Hills. My mom showed me where you used to go. It’s fairly close to where we were just staying. How long would it take you to get there? Did you drive?”

“Back in those days, we took the train. Probably to Bangor and then someone would pick us up from there.”

“Uh, in these days, I take the train. That’s what I was doing last night when we couldn’t talk!”

“Good point. I guess things aren’t so different.”

Minus the part where I have friends with tennis courts on their private estates.

“But it’s Monday,” Maga said.

“I know, but I’m going to a birthday party tomorrow and I’m not sure how late it’ll go and I didn’t want to miss our weekly chat.”

“Oh, well thank you for calling tonight.”

We spoke about the usual things (the weather, my siblings, my travels), when something obvious occurred to me.

“Maga, do you realize we overlap states?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you went to college in MA. I live here now. You were born in NJ. I went to high school there. Your name is Virginia. I went to college at JMU in Virginia.”

“Why you’re right. My goodness.”

Her genes criss-cross my insides while her travels/earlier life criss-cross my exterior path.

“I’d forgotten it was Tuesday until the telephone rang and there you were,” Maga said.

“Here I am.”

The conversation about various family members lulled, and before we could transition back to today’s weather report, Maga said, “What was I going to tell you?”

“Something juicy?”

“What?”

“Juicy gossip.”

“Oh goodness no. Nothing like that, so I guess it doesn’t matter that I can’t remember what I was going to tell you.”

“Well, I’ll be here when you remember it.”

And I will. Even if it’s just over the phone and not in person. Even if it’s once a week instead of every day. Because if there’s one thing I am, it’s dependable. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s listening. So, talk on, Maga. I’ll be here.