Her Biggest Fan

It was the hottest day of the year, by Maine standards in those days anyway. Ninety five. And humid, too. Fran recalled her best friend as she wrapped her collection in newspaper. Peggy was long gone, thirty years now.

Peggy had called early on an August day when both their teen boys were working at their summer jobs in the local grocery. As always, Peggy was suggesting an adventure. Fran knew it the second the phone rang.

"Great day for the flea market, Fran!" she had said. And she even had the nerve to suggest the place built in an old farm chicken house. It was their favorite, but the third floor was sweltering in the summer. Giant fans attempted the illusion of a breeze at either end of the massive passageway but the breeze was useless past the shelves upon shelves stuffed with odds and ends. Air conditioning wasn't very common in Maine back then, but the place, still an antiquing attraction, never gave in to the luxury of cool air.

"Are you serious, Peg?" Fran had replied. "Don't you recall telling me I looked like a wet blanket the last time we went there in August?" Frances never forgot Peggy's way with words.

"Of course I am. Be ready by ten." It was pointless to argue. Peg had hung up. Fran remembered exactly how she felt when she put the kitchen wall phone back on the hook, lingering her hand briefly on the handset. She had considered calling back to say she wasn't going. Instead she changed into capri pants and a tank top, both hot pink. Another detail Fran could easily picture.

Fran reached for another sheet of newspaper. She loved Peg dearly. They had grown up together, best friends since kindergarten. Their boys each called the other 'Auntie.'

Peggy was there for her divorce. Fran supported Peg through the unexpected early death of her husband. She knew she was lucky to have had that friendship, knew it wasn't as common as the cliche.

She carefully wrapped another precious antique Japanese doll from her collection and placed it gently in the box. Fran would not have room for her beloved collection in the retirement complex. She wasn't in need of assisted living, yet, but knew she needed less house to manage, both financially and physically. An article about the new town hall caught her eye and she resisted the urge to read instead of pack, an avoidance habit she was well aware of.

She would always think of Peggy when she admired the five dolls she was keeping. Peg had an eye for antiques. She had a sixth sense about when it was going to be a good day for treasure hunting. She smiled, then startled when the doorbell rang.

Peg's son Gregory stepped inside, put his keys on the table, reached for a hug, a routine at least fifty years long. "Hey, Aunt Fran, ready for your big move?" he asked, adding, "You picked the hottest day of the year."

"Not really," she replied, motioning him to have a seat.

"Not really ready...or not really the hottest?" Greg asked.

"Did I ever tell you about when your mother said I looked like ABC gum?"

Greg chuckled, "What's that?" He said, "Never heard of that brand."

"Already been chewed. Anyway, she wanted to go out shopping on the hottest day of the year. I was reluctant because the place was like a sauna in the summer heat."

Greg nodded, sensing she needed to talk, which she didn't do often. Fran had been like a second mother to him, more so when Peg had died of aggressive breast cancer when he and Tim were in their twenties. Tim had moved out west in his thirties, so Greg had returned the favor anytime Fran needed anything done around the house. He had a feeling this was going to be an interesting story. Instead she got up, went to the sink. "Go ahead, I'm listening," he said. He knew her avoidance tendencies by now.

"She had a plan to keep us cool," Fran continued, "She brought a couple of those folding paper fans. Of course they didn't work. I was sweating like a pig and said so. Your mother laughed so hard she couldn't talk. I didn't understand why that was so funny and said so. Fran, she said between breaths, you're wearing all pink!"

Fran looked up to see Greg holding back. "Go ahead and laugh," she said, "I didn't get to the gum part yet." Greg had Peg's sense of humor and sharp wit, but also her kindness.

"So I said, "'A pig with a fan,"' and she laughed even harder, then said '"or ABC gum...with a fan!"' which I had to admit was funny. I could never stay mad at your mom for long. Then we had a great time, making fun of me, and stuff people were trying to sell, and fanning each other with our useless fans. We had the place to ourselves, most people know better than to go to the third floor in August."

"That's great, Aunt Fran," Greg said, "thanks for telling me."

"Actually, there's a bit more." Fran explained.

"We didn't find anything for our collections. But as we were about to leave.. hot, sweaty and exhausted of course...we came to the exit and the owner was holding a beautiful huge antique Japanese fan."

"Oh," said Greg, "The one that's been in your hallway forever?"

"Yes, yes...but we thought that was hilarious, of course. The owner said we should buy it while it's hot, which made Peg laugh even more. I didn't quite get that one, but Peg tried to get me to buy it."

"To go with your Japanese dolls?" Greg asked.

" Right, but I didn't."

"Soooo...how did it get here?"

Fran paused. Greg waited.

"Just before she decided to stop treatments. She went back and got it, she said it was a sign that it was still there. She gave it to me, said she wanted me to have it, said that she was my "'biggest fan, Fran."'

"She was so serious I cried. I don't think I'd ever seen her that serious."

"It was the last gift she ever gave me, when I should have been giving her gifts."

Greg leaned over and hugged his mom's best friend. "You were her gift, Fran. She loved you like a sister."

"Well," said Fran, "If it's okay, I'd like you to take it, because she was your biggest fan, too, you know."

Greg nodded. "Honored to, Auntie," said Greg as he lifted the box of dolls. "Let's take care of you first, then I'll see to the rest tomorrow, when it's cooler."