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Iowa State University Capstones, Theses and Retrospective Theses and Dissertations Dissertations 2007 Removed: a novel Molly Ann Magestro Iowa State University Follow this and additional works at: https://lib.dr.iastate.edu/rtd Part of the Modern Literature Commons Recommended Citation Magestro, Molly Ann, "Removed: a novel" (2007). Retrospective Theses and Dissertations. 14807. https://lib.dr.iastate.edu/rtd/14807 This Thesis is brought to you for free and open access by the Iowa State University Capstones, Theses and Dissertations at Iowa State University Digital Repository. It has been accepted for inclusion in Retrospective Theses and Dissertations by an authorized administrator of Iowa State University Digital Repository. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Removed: A Novel by Molly Ann Magestro A thesis submitted to the graduate faculty in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS Major: English (Creative Writing) Program of Study Committee: Jon Billman, Co-Major Professor David Zimmerman, Co-Major Professor Kathy Hickok Ingrid Lilligren Iowa State University Ames, Iowa 2007 Copyright © Molly Ann Magestro, 2007. All rights reserved. UMI Number: 1443120 UMI Microform 1443120 Copyright 2007 by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code. ProQuest Information and Learning Company 300 North Zeeb Road P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, MI 48106-1346 ii dedicated to memory of Helen Lemke 08/27/1924 – 03/28/2007 I love you, Grandma. I wish I knew your stories better. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS PROLOGUE ……………………………………………………… 2 CHAPTER ONE ……………………………………………………… 8 CHAPTER TWO ……………………………………………………… 26 CHAPTER THREE ……………………………………………………… 36 CHAPTER FOUR ……………………………………………………… 44 CHAPTER FIVE ……………………………………………………… 63 CHAPTER SIX ……………………………………………………… 89 CHAPTER SEVEN ……………………………………………………… 99 CHAPTER EIGHT ……………………………………………………… 109 CHAPTER NINE ……………………………………………………… 119 CHAPTER TEN ……………………………………………………… 133 CHAPTER ELEVEN ……………………………………………………… 141 CHAPTER TWELVE ……………………………………………………… 156 CHAPTER THIRTEEN ……………………………………………………… 169 1 Removed: A Novel -Molly Ann Magestro- After all, the heart is not a small stone to be rolled this way and that. The mind is not a box to be shut fast. -Anne Carson 2 Prologue – Five years ago No little girl ever dreams of being married by a divorce attorney. Kristen and Laura knew the majority of revenue coming into the law firm was earned from divorce proceedings as Laura pulled her car up to the curb. Jill wore the white dress, a nod to tradition in this nontraditional setting. Kristen and Laura together chose something old, new, borrowed and blue for Jill to have on hand during the ceremony. Blue: Laura had pinned a small bit of blue satin ribbon near the hem of Jill’s knee-length skirt. Borrowed: the bride wore a gold heart necklace Kristen had received as a gift for high school graduation. Old: two of her oldest friends stood at her sides. And new: the baby just beginning to grow, to uncurl its limbs inside her belly. Laura parked under the shadow of the Cathedral of Saint Anne. Kristen climbed from the passenger seat, carefully straightening her skirt as she stood. In the rearview mirror, Laura saw Jill’s eyes sweep up to the church’s domes and spires. That was the fairy tale, to be married within the opulent building before them, underneath the ceiling mural of the patron saint of pregnant women. St. Anne surrounded by angels and clouds, both fluffy, white and impossibly tall. The shadow cast by the building covered the whole parking lot, all the way to the door of the next building, their destination. No one wanted to be married in the shadow of a church. Laura knew Jill wanted a ceremony lit by holy candles on the altar, blessed by the priest and witnessed by all her family and friends. Instead, the three girls were meeting Jill’s fiancé, his best man, and Laura’s boyfriend Kevin in the lobby of the lawyer’s office next door to the cathedral. The 3 building was tan, a nondescript square of a building—its only distinguishing mark, the sign posted in the middle of the parking lot. The call from Kristen a week ago had taken Laura by surprise. She had not realized people still had shotgun weddings, that people still felt pressured to get married the instant they found themselves accidentally, unexpectedly pregnant. She also couldn’t imagine marrying someone she had started dating only months ago. All three girls had been friends as children, saw it as a blessing that at least they were twenty-one, not seventeen, when Jill found herself three months late and too nervous to take a pregnancy test. She had not known for sure until the doctor came in with the results. The lawyer, the fiancé, the best man, and Kevin were waiting in a conference room where the ceremony would take place. The ten-foot mahogany table shone in the center of the room. Light sconces hung on the walls, golden and giving the space the cozy feel of a den instead of an office. The wedding party had trailed the lawyer through the double doors and followed his directions to line up in a certain manner around the room. Jill and her fiancée stood near the head of the table, holding hands. Jill’s belly had just begun to tent the stomach of her shirt. Laura and Kristen stood off to Jill’s right, while the other boys were to the groom’s left. The lawyer stood to the left of the couple. “Do you…” the lawyer asked. “I do.” “I do.” They exchanged rings that had not been sized yet to fit their new owners’ fingers. Jill’s would not stay on her hand; her husband’s would not go any further than his knuckle. 4 “You know what to do next,” the lawyer said. And the newlyweds kissed. The kiss lasted too long; Laura grew uncomfortable. Kristen, busy exchanging a variety of glances with the best man, paid no attention. Kevin met Laura’s eye, but he just smiled at her. When the kiss ended, Laura stepped around the table and up to the couple to be the first to hug them. All this followed by a speech from the lawyer: “I’ve been a divorce attorney for twenty years, so I’m going to put these back in your envelope and return them to you,” he said, folding the vows and handing them to the groom. “And here’s what I want you to do with them. Take them out every so often and read them to each other. Once this thing becomes real, it can be easy to forget about all the pretty words that you spoke to each other today. I’ve found that the couple that reminds themselves of their vows is the couple that stays together.” Typically, a divorce attorney does not make an appearance in the wedding ceremony little girls dream of. But then, neither does a swollen belly. All that doesn’t come around until well after the ink is dry on the witnesses’ signature lines. Laura watched Kristen dot her “i” and cross her “t”; Kristen couldn’t look away from the best man long enough to keep her signature flush with the line. And all this in the shadow of St. Anne’s. 5 Chapter One – 2:49 p.m. I know what to do with her no more than one cloud in the sky knows what to do with another. -J.M. Coetzee In between a woman she had never met and one she had known all her life, Laura faced the painting on the wall with her hands clasped low against her stomach. The woman to her left, the one she did not know, turned from the exhibit occasionally to coo down at the baby, sitting quiet in its stroller. To Laura’s right, Kristen looked like she wanted to fall into the painting. What startled Laura was that even though she and Kristen had been friends their entire lives, Laura knew no more about the way Kristen’s life worked day to day than she did about the woman she hadn’t even met. Kristen leaned forward, as her head moved from side to side and back. Laura tried to determine what it was about the painting that kept her friend so captivated. The painting, titled “torsos” with a small “t,” showed two naked stomachs facing each other. All Laura knew for sure was the two people must have been standing extremely close; only a couple of inches separated their bellies. She felt how even the slightest breeze would be cool against that expanse of skin, bared for the eyes of the artist with his paint, his brushes. Perhaps the models for the painting had not stood close together at all. Perhaps the shadows, the way the curves of each compensated for and responded to the other, was a product of the artist’s imagination instead of the actual bend of the light or a true representation of the way they, those models, would fit together just right, torso to naked torso. 6 “Oh, darling, what’s wrong?” the mother said, stepping away from the painting, reaching towards the stroller. Laura watched as the woman crouched down and leaned in toward the child whose face increasingly showed the wrinkles and creases of displeasure. A boy, Laura was certain, even though the baby wore pale green, the color of mint ice cream. Last night: 2:13 a.m. Then there were nights like tonight when Laura woke, legs wrapped up in the bed sheets, an obituary fully formed in her head. These obits, however, had nothing to do with the challenges of her job.

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