The novel ‘A Woman between Two Men’, with an Albanian-American Theme, is authored by Carrie Hooper and Skifter Këllici
Chapter II
Mary Davenport, a pleasant young woman between 25 and 30, dressed in shorts and a singlet that opened in the front and back, strolled along a sidewalk in Del Mar Beach and clutched a small backpack. Even though the sun was setting, people still swam or lay in the sun under multicolored umbrellas. Mary looked down one side of the street, then down the other and headed for a large silver shop where people stood in front of the windows and eyed bracelets, necklaces, and rings which sparkled with a variety of colors.
A broad-shouldered young man, dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, followed Mary. He had a beard, a mustache, and hair that went below his neck. He looked attractive and tough at the same time. That young man was Nik.
Every time Mary turned her head, Nik did all he could to keep her from seeing him. Without taking his eyes off of her, he pretended to look through the windows of another shop that was farther away from the silver shop.
At that moment, Nik could have approached Mary and could even have met her. But he was stunned when he saw a young man with glasses sitting with a friend at a table in a summer cafe. He got up and timidly called Mary by name. Although she turned her head in the opposite direction, she did not see him. Therefore, she kept walking. The young man quickened his steps, got closer to her, and called her name a second time with the same timidity.
Mary turned her head in the direction from which the voice came. She stopped, smiled, and said, “Charlie, is that you? Forgive me. I didn’t see you.”
The two shook hands.
“Did you go to the beach today?” asked the man whose name was Charlie.
As he gazed at her, her blue eyes and blond hair that went down to her bare shoulders seemed to have acquired some of the horizon’s glow.
“Yes, I came with Wilma. Later, her husband, Ralph, will join us,” Mary said.
“How would you like to go out for coffee with me? I am here with my friend, Kenneth. You know him.”
And Charlie cautiously pointed to his friend who had a mustache and was about forty. Kenneth started to rise and waved to Mary.
“Thank you, Charlie, but I have to go to a silver shop, then back to my hotel where Wilma is waiting for me,” she said. “What about you? Are you staying here tonight?”
“Unfortunately no. I came to spend a few hours at the beach with Kenneth. In a little while, I will go back to San Diego with him. We leave for San Francisco tomorrow morning. We’ll spend a week there.”
“Another scientific conference?”
“Yes.”
“I hope it goes well. I’m sure we’ll have a chance to see each other again when you get back. Good-bye.”
Mary smiled warmly at Charlie, shook his hand, said good-bye to Kenneth, and left. Charlie looked longingly at Mary’s back, her calves, and her plump legs. Finally, he returned to the table where Kenneth was waiting for him. He could not take his eyes off of Mary, either.
“She’s really something, that Mary!” said Kenneth. “I’ve told you before, Charlie: You will never find a better woman on the face of the earth.”
Charlie, as if unsure about his friend’s words, shrugged his shoulders.
“And where will she find another man like you, an up-and-coming scientist?” Kenneth continued.
Charlie, after he thought for a moment, grimaced. This accentuated his thin, arched nose. Then he said, “Don’t think I haven’t thought about that, Kenneth. But success as a scientist does not always mean success in love.”
“You can’t say that if you’ve never tried it. But you are a sucker for it. I saw the words that formed on your lips when you met Mary.”
As if encouraged by his mischievous friend’s words, Charlie cut him off: “Kenneth, just you wait until we get back from San Francisco.”
Nik kept his distance without being noticed. He had seen everything. As soon as Mary had said good-bye to Charlie, whom Nik had heard was a scientist who had started to make a name for himself, he followed her.
Mary entered the silver shop and looked around. Jack, the shop’s owner, had trouble walking. He was around fifty and had a wide face. He was busy with a customer at the counter. Jack apologized to him in front of the other customers, and bending his head full of hair, he exclaimed, “Hello, Mary! We fixed your necklace. It couldn’t be more beautiful. See for yourself.”
With that, he took the check that Mary handed him and put it in the pocket of his black suit jacket. He hurried behind the counter, took down a velvet box, opened it, and gave it to Mary.
“Doesn’t this necklace look completely new?” he asked, raising his eyebrows above his smooth forehead.
Mary took the necklace out of the box and held it up. Her face beamed. She turned to Jack and said, “You are right. If my mother were alive and came here, she would buy this necklace. She would assume it was new, as you said. But you should know it is 150 years old.”
“You don’t have to tell me that, Mary. As soon as I held it in my hands, I knew it was so, and, more importantly, very precious. Pure gold. Is it a family heirloom?”
“Yes, from my grandparents on my father’s side.”
Mary lifted the necklace and turned it around in her hands in order to get a better look at it. After a moment she said, “You can’t even see the place where I broke it in half by accident. I am very grateful to you, Jack.”
“Thank you, Mary,” said Jack. “I’m glad you are pleased. You did the right thing to bring it to our shop.”
“They told me some of the best silversmiths in San Diego work here.”
Mary’s words of appreciation made Jack grin from ear to ear. He smiled even more when other customers looked at him and Mary.
“I will wear this necklace the first chance I get,” said Mary. “My friends, who are older, whenever they saw me wearing it, they said, `It looks lovely on you. It reminds us of your beautiful mother. It looked just as nice on her.`”
“You are beautiful, too,” Jack said. He had found the perfect opportunity to compliment his special customer. “You must look like your mother.”
“Oh, no,” said Mary sadly. “No one could match her grace. But she, like my father, died young.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to have hurt you,” Jack muttered.
His face grew sullen, and his eyes seemed to roll back into their sockets, as if he wanted to express even more the sorrow he felt after hearing Mary’s words. (Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3,
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About the Authors
Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania. She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo. After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College. She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian. Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life. She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry. She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.” She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.
Skifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.
[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]
