VALENTINE'S DAY CONVERSATION WITH AUGUSTA MCKEE

 

Today is Valentine’s Day. I asked Augusta McKee what she gave Malcolm.

 “How would I know? You’ve never written a book that includes Valentine’s Day. In fact, I think only one of the six books that are out there has anything about winter in it at all.”

 “Yes, I know. I want to write a book with winter in it. I did take that last book up to Christmas, remember?”

 I decided to try a different approach. “Well, by now you know Malcolm pretty well, I would hope. If I should write a book with Valentine’s Day in it, what would you give him?”

“I’ve never given him anything other than a lot of headaches. Oh, and the dog. Fritz. Maybe more headaches? But he liked it. I mean he likes the dog. That was a good present.”

She thought about it. “Malcolm gave me some nice things. My engagement ring in the second book. A piece of jewelry for our wedding. And then when you sent us to Europe for our honeymoon, he gave me a bracelet that I seldom take off. A charm bracelet with one meaningful charm.”

 “You didn’t give him a wedding present?”

 “If I did, you neglected to write it into the book. We wrote our own vows. Does that count? I promised I’d always have his back and I would be his partner for life. And then I sang to him.”

 “Just imagine I plan to write the next book—well, not the one I’m writing now, because it takes place in the summer—but the one after that and it includes Valentine’s Day in the time frame. What would you give him?”

 “The only jewelry he wears is his wedding ring. I guess I gave him that. And his watch. Maybe I’d give him a Rolex. Would that make you happy?”

 “It’s not about me, it’s about you and him.”

 “Right. Of course it is. You have absolutely nothing to do with all this stuff.”

 “I only write what you guys tell me to write.”

 Augusta stared at me frostily. “We didn’t refer to a couple as ‘you guys’ in the 1960s.”

 “Oh, sorry, lost my head. What you and Malcolm tell me.”

 Augusta stared off into space for long moments. I hummed while I waited for her to respond, the song she sang for Malcolm at their wedding. “Yours Is My Heart Alone.”

 “Well…that Rolex sounds like a good idea. I believe he’d like a good watch. Cuff links, maybe? He sometimes wears shirts that have cuffs.”

 “Can’t you come up with something more original than that?”

 “Why do I need to? You’re the writer. You figure it out.”

 You see what we writers have to deal with?