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UKArchive ID: 36681The Dogwood Tree by harry
Originally published on July 1, 2016 in Fiction

What tea and cookies can't conceal.



The Dogwood Tree

Harry Buschman


“I wish you’d show a little more enthusiasm Marcie. You’re playing the Saint-Saens fourth at Tanglewood in two weeks. Why don’t you practice a little?”

“I know it Ma. I know it backwards and forwards. I know it better than the conductor knows it.”

“It’s not good to take that attitude into the concert hall, Marcie.”

Marcie stood up stiffly and stretched. She walked to the window and looked out at the dogwood flowering on the front lawn. “It’s no good Ma. It would have been good ten years ago, but I’m twenty-six years old now – I’m not a prodigy any more. There will be a half a dozen girls younger than me. Each of them is as good or better than me.”

“How about I make us a cup of tea?”

“Good idea Mom, tea’s the answer to everything.”

Marcie’s mother put her sewing down and walked to the kitchen. It felt good to be doing something. Yes, tea would be just the thing. Marcie would play the Saint-Saens this afternoon after a nice cup of tea. Her enthusiasm would be revived. She’ll be rarin’ to go in two weeks – she’ll give the performance of her young life. She could see the headlines materialize in the steam from the spout on the teapot … “Local girl creates sensation at Tanglewood! Maestro Goldsmith praises “performance of the season!”

She wondered a little if maybe she was driving Marcie a little too hard lately, but she quickly put it out of her mind. In the end Marcie would thank her for it. “Ma, if it hadn’t been for you I’d have given up long ago … you were the reason I won … you.”

She walked back into the living room with the tea and the cookies she had made last night. Marcie was sitll standing at the window looking out at the dogwood tree.




© harry (harry on OLD UKA)
UKArchive ID: 36681
Archived comments for The Dogwood Tree
Mikeverdi on 02-07-2016
The Dogwood Tree
I love this piece Harry, so much to draw from it. The lost life, the what could have beens. And all on the mothers side. My mother was the same, "I could have been anything I wanted to be" She didn't realise I was already there. I got the pent up emotions of the woman looking out, brilliantly written.

Mike

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pdemitchell on 03-07-2016
The Dogwood Tree
Bravo, Harry - a wonderful melancholic snapshot of the what-ifs and what-might-have-beens in life. Mitch

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