The first time Annalisa Ling had stepped into his apartment, she remarked that it was like a well-preserved museum piece. She had been worried about the dust sticking to her silk floral dress at the time. But that was many years ago. Now, Annalisa had perfected the art of a youthful façade well into her fifties. Makeup hung on her face like tinsel on a Christmas tree, garish and heavy. Her hair was always crimped and a shade of magenta that defied normal descriptions. Marvin could picture her as they had talked, blaring tinny Asian pop music as she drove, cell phone glued to her ear and mouth popping gum.
“Marvin, you aren’t dead yet?” she had asked, cherry pink lips smacking as she chewed her gum and talked at the same time. On the other side of the line, Marvin hadn’t been able to help thinking of wet fish slamming pavement.
“No Annie, I have not yet crossed the River Styx, though its waters are running high,” Marvin had replied, heaving a sigh as he smoothed down his fluffy white hair. “How sweet of you to ask though.”
“Don’t pull that intellectual junk on me, Marv. I am worried about you. I heard about what happened to Arty.”
“Arty Arbacross?”
Marvin had heard the car door slam shut. “Yes, that Arty. How many others do you know?”
“Oh Annalisa, you still have your serpent’s tongue.”
“Marvin, this is no time for compliments! Arty is dead!” Annalisa had exclaimed as Marvin heard a chorus of barks through the phone.
Marvin had dropped the mug he’d been holding. Weak coffee spilled in an arc on the faded carpet, like a brushstroke of brown paint on the floor. Arty was dead. Marvin’s hands had begun to shake and he had to readjust his thick glasses, an old nervous tic. He had almost dropped the phone.
“Marv! You still there right?” Annalisa had all but screeched into the phone.
Marvin had shaken his head to clear his mind of the fog of memories. “Yes, I am still here.” But for how much longer?
“Okay good. Marv, I’m worried about you. Have you been going to the doctor?”
“I have.”
He’d heard a stifled sigh of relief. “That’s good. It’s important for you to go.”
“But Annie….what happened to Arty?”
“I am not sure. All I know is that he’s been dead for a while. Don’t let it bother you, okay? I’ll come over for dinner soon; I’ll bring some shrimp pancit. I gotta walk the dogs. I’ll call you!”
After the phone call, Marvin had walked over to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but remember all the times Arty had come over. He’d bring a bottle of wine, some records, and maybe a book or two. Arty would sit at the dining room table, large body sprawled awkwardly in a chair, and lament the students who would forget to read or who couldn’t recite the poetry for his class. Annalisa always brought the food, usually some sort of Chinese or Filipino dish that looked messy but tasted delightful. Annalisa was a secretary in the admissions office of the college Marvin and Arty had taught at; she was well-liked among the staff for her cooking, which she frequently brought to share.
Marvin recalled how his late wife Rose had loved spending those evenings with his friends; she had been young and so eager to understand everything that sometimes she would just sit at the table, not talking and only taking a few sips of wine (which was always too sour for her, no matter what kinds Marvin asked her to try). They had been married for 11 years before she died. There were still things around the apartment that made Marvin remember.
Marvin sighed wistfully as he looked over his plain, lonely kitchen. Glass jars held different kinds of pasta and coffee, and old memos still stuck to the fridge door. But all in all, it wasn’t as comfortable as it used to be. Marvin made himself a sandwich and sat down at the table, ruminating on the past.
***
Marvin squinted up at his son-in-law, whose six-foot-two frame seemed to block out the sun’s rays as they made their way across the lusciously green grass to the picnic table. Annalisa grabbed Marvin’s arm tightly, her hands curved like claws as she wobbled on high-heeled shoes not meant for grass. Or picnics for that matter.
The smell of freshly made fried lumpia stuffed with pork and spices wafted from a woven basket hanging from Annalisa’s arm and Marvin felt himself actually looking forward to this family picnic that he had been dreading the week before. He looked up ahead and noticed his daughter’s familiar sunflower sundress. A slight breeze tickled the edges of her long black hair as it lay against her back, curling slightly. Her back was to Marvin as she arranged the food she had made on the table, as much of a perfectionist as her mother had been. Marvin braced himself for the moment when she would turn and smile, her face so much like her mother’s that Marvin couldn’t help but feel a brief pain in his heart. He was grateful for the reassuring grip of Annalisa on his arm; that would keep his mind from drifting into memories better left alone on this lovely spring day.
“I am really glad you both could make it. Lily wouldn’t stop talking about this picnic, she was so excited,” said Paul, his large mouth pulled up into a grin. Marvin couldn’t help but notice how the wedding band on his left hand glinted in the sun. Paul and Lily had only been married for a month, and Marvin still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea of his only daughter sharing aspects of her life with a man other than himself.
“Thanks for inviting me! I had nothing else going on, except taking care of my dogs, but they can be without me for a while,” Annalisa said wickedly as she handed her basket to Paul. They laughed and Lily turned around, the dimple in her cheeks deepening as she smiled with her light rose-colored lips. She had fine features, courtesy of Rose being Chinese, but the roundness of her cheeks and firmness of jaw came from Marvin’s Polish background.
“Hey Dad,” she said, in her slow, soft voice.
“Hi honey.” Marvin smiled back and hugged her tightly. He realized now that he had been away for too long. “It’s good to see you, Lily.”
They pulled back and Marvin saw joy glinting in her light hazel eyes; Lily had still inherited her mother’s slim eyes, like almonds resting on her cheeks.
Lily went to greet Annalisa and Marvin turned towards the picnic table, marveling at such a grand layout of food. Sturdy plastic plates were heaped with gleaming apples and grapes, and others were stacked with small sandwiches and pork buns. A salad tossed with a sharp, mustardy French vinaigrette was also on the table, the different greens in it ripe and bright, coated with the deep gold of the vinaigrette. Annalisa’s basket of fried Filipino delights was now on the table as well, the cylindrical lumpia golden and appetizing, bits of spiced pork peeking out the edges.
“This looks like quite a feast,” Marvin remarked and Lily smiled, passing him and Annalisa plates. “Sure is! Lily went into the café early to make the sandwiches, and got the fruit and pork buns from Clement Street,” Paul said as he unapologetically began heaping his plate with food.
“How is the café going, Lily?” Annalisa asked, chewing on a pork bun.
“Fine,” answered Lily, serving Marvin salad. “So far nothing too crazy has come up, apart from people flaking out and not showing up when they are supposed to work.”
Annalisa shook her head. “That’s terrible. But, I’m sure the food is still awesome, yeah? You still want that pancit recipe? It would bring in new customers!”
Lily laughed. “You just want your recipes to become famous! Why don’t you open a restaurant yourself?”
Everyone sat down at the picnic table and feasted. Lily hovered over Marvin, small frown lines appearing on her small forehead like veins in a leaf as she concentrated on ensuring that he tried and finished everything. After they all ate as much of the savory foods as they could, apples were sliced and grapes passed around. The sweet, refreshing crunch of the apple slices invigorated Marvin; with all the good food and sunlight, he felt better than he had in a long while.
He felt a soft touch on his right side and turned to see Annalisa looking at him speculatively, her pink lipstick-caked lips pursed tightly.
“There is one person, no, wait, two people,” she began, whispering, “who should be here right now.”
Marvin nodded; he knew what she meant. It would have meant so much to Rose to see Lily married, especially to such a kind man as Paul. As for Arty Arbacross….
“Lily, do you remember Arty Arbacross? The professor who wore cowboy hats but could recite Beowulf like a dream?” Marvin asked, not relishing the idea of broaching such a delicate subject. Arty had been a great support to all of them when Rose had taken ill.
Lily frowned as she finished chewing a piece of apple, and wiped away the juice that had trickled down her chin before she answered him.
“I think so…wasn’t he always giving Mom books to read when she was in the hospital?”
“Yes, that was him…apparently he died last week,” Marvin said sadly. Lily’s face fell and Paul took her hand over the table, his broad face full of empathy.
“That’s terrible …”
“Honey, it’s ok. No one thought he was going to go so soon,” remarked Annalisa, reaching over to stroke Lily’s arm.
Marvin felt ashamed of himself, and coughed into his handkerchief to hide his cheeks blazing from embarrassment. He remembered how sensitive Lily was to death; when Rose had died the year Lily turned nine, Lily hadn’t wanted to step outside their house. All she did was curl up in Rose’s favorite armchair and listen to her piano recordings. Marvin had also felt listless and immobilized; unable to teach, he stayed home and sat around. The seeds of grief had been planted in Marvin when Rose was diagnosed with cancer, and they blossomed inside him when she died. He’d had no desire to open his eyes any more; the world was colorless and dull without Rose.
As Lily had grown up, Marvin had found it increasingly difficult to find things in common with her. He immersed himself in teaching at the University, and Lily went out with her many friends. When Lily went to college in the Midwest, Marvin realized that his life was emptier and sadder than it had ever been. A year ago, she finally came back after graduating and Paul came with her. Marvin felt grateful that he wouldn’t have to be alone as the years racked up, unlike Arty, whose family had all but left him.
“To Arty Arbacross, may his soul be in peace and God bless him,” said Marvin solemnly, raising his cup of water. Everyone else followed suit; it was a makeshift good-bye, yet he felt there was something nice about doing it with family, on a lovely day.
However, he still felt the sharp absence loved ones leave behind when they are gone. Looking around at everyone’s grave faces, he just hoped he would still be remembered when he was gone.
***
Annalisa strolled down the street, leashes in one hand and the other in the crook of Marvin’s arm, with her many mini Jack Russell Terriers as they swarmed around her legs. Marvin kept looking down at his feet and walked slowly, afraid of tripping on one of them.
It was one of those rare days in San Francisco when the sun was unabashedly out, warming the streets. People wore fluttery clothes as they dipped into stores and cafes, alone or with others. Marvin had been reluctant to leave the comfort of his bed this Saturday morning, but Annalisa had been dying to try Lily’s café so she made a surprise visit, pulling him out of his bed and out into the sunny day. Annalisa was yet again dressed too young for her age, with tight dark blue jeans, strappy gold sandals, and a sparkly shirt. Marvin almost had to squint when he looked at her.
“Marv, what’s the place called again?” she asked, stopping to clean up a mess by one of the dogs.
“I think it’s called the Sweets Garden,” Marvin replied, looking around for a sign of it, shading his eyes from the glare of the sun. “Oh there, up ahead. We’re almost there. Did you really have to bring all the dogs?”
“What? Should I have just left them in my apartment when it’s such a nice day outside? Of course I had to bring my babies,” she huffed.
Marvin sighed and followed her down the street to the café, amidst the yelping and scurrying of her dogs. He learned long ago that there was no use in trying to dissuade Annalisa from doing whatever she wanted.
When they entered the café, Lily smiled and waved to them from behind the oak counter, where glass jars held candies and toffees. Inside the glass cases a truly splendid display of pastries were arrayed. There were glistening fruit tarts, puffy éclairs with droplets of cream spilling out the sides, and many different kinds of round cookies. Marvin took a deep breath of the sweet perfume and warmth of the cafe; he could almost taste the buttery softness of a croissant just by smelling the air.
“Please come in! Thanks for coming, you guys!” Lily exclaimed excitedly as she came around the counter. She showed them to a little table in the window at the front of the cafe; Marvin couldn’t help but notice the rose-patterned tablecloth and dainty water glasses.
Annalisa’s dogs actually behaved once they were in the café; they lay at her feet and drank from the silver bowls of water one of the waitresses brought over.
“After I got your call this morning inviting us over here, I had to go and drag your father out of bed! I couldn’t believe how lazy he was,” Annalisa said, her mouth puckered in a pout, whacking Marvin lightly on the arm.
“I’m glad you did that, Annalisa. It’s good for you to be out Dad, especially on such a nice day.”
Marvin laughed and grabbed a hold of Lily’s hand. “How could I ever refuse requests from such lovely ladies?”
“Ooh, Marv, you’ve still got it!” Annalisa laughed and, out of habit, pushed back her heavily crimped hair, the magenta strands catching the light streaming through the spotless windows.
Lily squeezed Marvin’s hand, trying to hold back her laughter. “How about I go make you both some coffee and bring out the pastries?”
“Yes, onward with the pastries!” exclaimed Marvin, as he made a grand sweeping motion with his hand. Lily laughed and walked back towards the kitchen, her polka dot apron swishing around her legs. Marvin watched her as she greeted the other customers; with her hair swept back from her face one could notice the intensity of her deep hazel eyes. She has such a gentle way with people, he mused, noticing how quickly a young couple with a restless baby was put to ease when she set up a high chair and made coo-cooing sounds as the baby waved it’s little dumpling arms about.
When Lily came back a few minutes later, both Annalisa and Marvin could not hold back from ooh-ing and aah-ing the little trays of pastries Lily brought for them. Even the coffee looked and smelled delicious; a wondrous scent of chocolate and sweet milk wafted from the oversized mugs.
“Here are some samples of the most popular pastries I serve here. The round, button-like ones are chocolate and almond ganache macarons, there’s a mini éclair full of cream, a plain croissant, and mini fruit tarts. I know how much you love strawberries Annalisa, so the strawberry one is for you. Dad, you get the berry tart, with extra blackberries,” Lily recited proudly.
Both Marvin and Annalisa looked at each other; they didn’t know where to start. Since all the pastries looked so lovely on the delicate porcelain plates, they could hardly bear to eat them.
That line of thinking must have been apparent on their faces because Lily laughed.
“Please eat them! That’s what they are meant for!”
“Oh, if you insist!” Annalisa said exaggeratedly, before taking a bite of her tart. Lily smiled at them and excused herself since more customers were coming in.
Marvin held the light brown macaron between his fingers; it was soft and still warm. He took a bite of the squishy cookie and he felt a bit of tension release from his shoulders. The chocolate part of it was rich and light, with the sweet almond ganache reminding him a bit of marzipan. An immense feeling of pride for his daughter took hold of him and he smiled; he realized then that he was a lucky man. He was still there, after all.
"Still There" was originally published in University of the Pacific's magazine Calliope.
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