“Come here, Frannie,” whispered Peg when Francesca stepped through the door. “You have to take a look at this.”
Francesca saw that Natalie and Connie, another two of her library friends, were seated at the other computer terminals. They both waved hello. The three old women, all of them bundled up in bulky sweaters despite the warmth inside the library, had their eyes glued to their respective computer screens while they pushed around a little plastic device that Francesca had heard them refer to as a mouse. That was another thing that gave Francesca pause. Why would she want to spend her time holding something named after a rodent? Nonetheless, she came closer to Peg and looked over her shoulder. Francesca had heard that people could find all manner of interesting things on the Internet; a world of information was right there at your fingertips, at least so they said. She was prepared to find Peg poring over an article about some new medical discovery, or perhaps reading up on investment advice for seniors. Instead, much to her embarrassed surprise, she found herself gazing at a full-screen photograph of Brad Pitt wearing little more than a pair of undershorts.
“Look at those abs,” enthused Peg. “Ooh, what I wouldn’t give to be thirty years younger!”
“Thirty? Try forty,” suggested Natalie. She tugged her knit hat down further over her ears to stay warm before turning her attention back to the chat group she had logged on to.
“While you’re at it, why not go for fifty?” added Connie, who was logged on to a chat group of her own. “I just told this guy that I’m blonde and twenty-one. He wants to do lunch.”
Francesca gave a little cough to clear her throat. “My,” she said, trying not to stare at the picture. “All this time, I thought you three were learning about word processing and spreadsheets and the rest of it.”
“Ayyy, forget that stuff,” huffed Peg. “It’s boring. The Internet is where all the fun is. You can find just about anything or anyone you want to look at. All you have to do is Google them.”
“Goo-goo?” said Francesca. “What’s that all about? Babies?”
“No, silly,” laughed Peg. “Goo-gull, not goo-goo. Don’t you know anything?”
“Afraid not,” sighed Francesca. “At least, not about these things.”
“You should give it a try,” suggested Natalie. “It’s a cinch.”
“What for?” replied Francesca. “What am I going to find out there with that thing that’s so wonderful? I’d rather read a book.”
“Don’t know what you’re missing,” said Connie. “Besides, what else is there for old bats like us to do? It’s fun, and e-mail’s a great way to keep in touch with people.”
“Ayyy, that’s what they invented stamps and envelopes for,” said Francesca. “There’s nothing like getting a nice handwritten letter.”
“Letter?” Peg laughed along with the other two women. “What century are you living in? Nobody writes letters anymore.”
“Yes, I know,” said Francesca grumpily. “That’s another thing I miss these days.” She gave another sigh. “Well, at least I know how to use the telephone whenever I want to hear someone’s voice.”
Peg pulled her eyes away from Brad Pitt long enough to give Francesca a thoughtful look. “What’s with the puss on your face today, Frannie?” she asked after a moment. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Francesca, giving a shrug. “Just feeling a little blue, that’s all.”
“What about? You just got back from Florida, right? Everything okay down there with your family?”
“Yes, of course,” Francesca replied. “They’re all fine. It’s just that…” She paused and looked away, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her book bag.
“What?” said Peg.
By now, Natalie and Connie had turned away from their monitors and were listening to what Francesca had to say. Francesca looked back at them, unable to suppress the glum expression on her face.
“I don’t know,” she finally answered, giving a shrug. “It’s just that I keep thinking about my daughters and my grandchildren. They’re all so far away. I miss them, even more since I just saw them. Who knows, my son will probably move away somewhere next. You’d think that after all these years, I’d be used to it by now, but it just seems to feel worse every day. Lately, I just feel useless.”
“Don’t we all,” sighed Connie.
“Don’t worry, Frannie,” said Peg kindly. “It’s just the winter getting you down, that’s all. It’s cold and dark outside, and we’re all cooped up inside. What, you’re supposed to be dancing a jig every minute of the day? But I know what you mean. It happens to me sometimes too, especially in January.”
“Me too,” Natalie added.
“Nighttime’s the worst for me,” said Connie, nodding her head. “Sometimes all I do is sit in my kitchen and think about my children.”
“It’s so strange, isn’t it?” said Francesca. “I can remember a time when I couldn’t wait for mine to all finally grow up and move out of the house and just stop driving me crazy. Now, a day doesn’t go by without my wishing that I could have them all back upstairs at night, sleeping in their beds. I’d pay anything to have them small like that again for just one more day, to see them wake up and come downstairs for breakfast in the morning.”
“Who wouldn’t?” said Peg. “But life goes on. You can’t waste your time wishing you could turn back the clock. You should be happy just for the time you do spend with your children because, let me tell you, no matter where they live, there are no guarantees. My kids all still live in Rhode Island, and I hardly ever get a chance to see them. I’m thinking about moving down to Florida. At least then, maybe they’ll want to visit me with the grandkids more often in the winter. You haven’t got it so bad. Besides, you still have your son close to home.”
“Ayyy, that one,” scoffed Francesca. “He might just as well be living on the far side of the moon. The only time I get to see him is when he’s hungry or he wants me to do his laundry for him. The kid needs a wife.”
“Yeah, but then what would there be for you to do?” asked Natalie.
“You know, you’re not being very helpful,” replied Francesca ruefully.
At that, the four women all laughed.
Feeling a little better, Francesca looked across the library to the front desk, where Rebecca was pulling on her overcoat. “Well, I guess I better get going. Looks like Chicken Little’s getting ready to throw us all out any second.”
“Bah,” huffed Natalie with a wave of her hand.
“Let her try,” Connie chimed in.
Francesca turned to go.
“Hey, Frannie,” said Peg, patting her hand, “try not to worry about it, okay? Before you know it, it will be spring, and things will look a lot brighter.”
“Sure, I guess,” said Francesca. “But what do I do in the meantime to keep myself from going crazy?”