Winter 2008
Issue

Click here for PDF
 

 

<— Back to Table of Contents

Archive

Mary Beth Doyle
1961-2004

MB: Personal Rememberances

Mary Beth Falls in Love

February/March Issue, 2006

If there were no dance events nearby, or if we just didn’t feel like working too hard at having fun, Mary Beth would often drive out to our house and “hang out.” The call might come late on a Saturday afternoon, or early in the evening: What was I doing? Did I feel like going anywhere? No? How ‘bout we watch a movie? She still hada couple she’d gotten out of the Ann Arbor Library but hadn’t watched yet.

It wasn’t routine or anything -- MB was a lady with plenty of options -- but such nights did,I think, have a comforting regularity. Deep down, she might have preferred to have a date, but deep down, I was just as happy she didn’t.

Then came Keeney.

We knew Dave Keeney through Jack’s -- my husband’s -- playing and singing with a bunch of bluegrass musicians who called themselves the Hillrays. Dave Keeney was a dobro player who I had pegged as a good “set up” for MB sometime in the late summer of 2003. He was funny, relaxed, cute, single, and smart. But he lived way the hell out near Tecumseh, so while most of the local music scene ran in packs near Ann Arbor, Keeney was relatively scarce. But I remember the Sunday night I got them sitting on the same bench in the window booth at the Old Town Tavern. I remember it not because MB spilled red wine on someone’s cashmere sweater (which became its own routine), but because it was the first time MB and Dave officially “met” and they were making each other laugh like old pals. Ooooo, I thought, this was good. Maybe we could get them together again somehow.

The sweater indicates that this would have been autumn or early winter. My next memory in this regard is of another Sunday night several weeks later, the two of them leaning against the bar at theOld Town, again laughing like kids. It was magic in its naturalness. I was kicking everyone under the table, saying things like, “See that?You think he likes her? You think she likes him?” Knowing MB, I was prettysure of one thing: talking to Keeney was making her happy. Damn happy.

On Monday the phone rang: “How ‘bout that Keeney guy?” “Yeah,” I said, “How ‘bout him?” “I kind of think he’s swell,” she said. “Yep,” I said. “I think you’re right.”

And then it becomes, for me at least, something of a blur. I know MB had to go east for Christmas, which always annoyed us, but before she left there were an awful lot of phone calls, sometimes twice a day. “I really like this Keeney guy.” “I got a crush on that Dave Keeney.” By now they had started talking on the phone, getting to know each other more every day. “I am having a great time talking to this Dave Keeney.” “I got a big ol’ crush on that Keeney.” I told her to call me as much as she wanted. I’d never seen her so happy; I wanted to bask in it, knowing how rare such blessings are. She came home in time for a party we were having on the weekend after the New Year and called to tell me about the date she had with Keeney to meet ahead of time and then come to the party, but still driving their own cars. She outlined her policy of not “showing up with” him; she didn’t want anyone thinking they were “on a date” because that would generate too many questions, too much speculation – all inappropriate in light of their status as first-daters. Next memory is of them singing along with the musicians in our kitchen, Mary Beth leaning into Dave’s arms, harmonizing and laughing. They’re practically cheek-to-cheek. So much for people getting any ideas.

“I just gotta say how much fun I’m having with this Dave Keeney.”

On my birthday, Jack mistakenly invited the Hillrays over to play instead of booking reservations at The Common Grill, but I said no problem: I’d invite MB over for my birthday and, gee, what a coincidence, Dave Keeney would be here, too.

She came early, so did he. Some coincidence.

So our Saturday nights watching videos became history, but really, no one minded. She belonged with Dave Keeney. She wasn’t the type to abandon anyone because of a new love, so I saw her (almost) often enough. That’s because Mary Beth was, as our mutual friend, Joan Kauffman, put it, ubiquitous: no matter what event you were involved with, MB was sure to show up. She was the best type of friend: faithful, level, truthful. And this was another of her talents: she could spread herself without spreading herself thin. She didn’t need to keep calling to tell me how she felt about him. It was all out there. I felt her happiness as if it were my own – hell, it was my own. She knew that I, too, had not found my good man until this late in life, and that I, too, had gladly gone without if this kind of love was my reward. She knew she had a good one in that Dave Keeney guy, and that he felt the same about her. This past year was the best of her life – how lucky we all were to see it.

-- Lauren Kingsley

BACK TO TOP