Page 9 of The Cadence
“That’s ok. I think that you’re asking out of concern, not to make me feel dumb.”
“Why would I make you feel dumb?”
“You don’t,” I said. “Anyway, I can work for my money. I want to rent a place big enough to keep some of my grandma’s furniture. She also worked so hard to get it and she kept it up so well.”
Will reached into the back seat and fumbled for a moment in one of his bags. He removed another box of tissues. “Keep it,” he instructed, after I’d taken a few.
“Thanks. My plans sound a little vague and I know that some of the ladies from church are worried about that, but I’ll be ok.”
“Can you stay with one of them?”
“No, they’re all on fixed incomes. I couldn’t—oh, turn here,” I directed. “There’s a huge pothole if you go the other way.”
This car cornered very nicely and we made it even with my last-second directions. He didn’t ask about either my money or my future plans as we completed the rest of the short trip and he stopped at the curb.
“Thank you for everything, for the tissues and the room service, and mostly for showing up. Twice,” I said. “I’m sorry I got sick last night.”
He nodded. “That’s ok. Are you going to eat more today?”
“I have a lot of leftovers, even after I filled containers for everyone. I think I want to sleep for a while longer, too.” I yawned. “I haven’t been doing too much of that. I hope you have a good time in Dallas.”
“What? Oh, sure. I’m going for business, not fun.”
“Oh, sure,” I echoed. “Well, I hope that your business is a success. Bye.” I got out, but Will did also and walked up to the house with me. “Did you want your shirt back?” I wondered.
“No, that’s all right.” He was frowning hard at my front door. “She was really proud of this place. She was always cleaning and gardening when I used to come over here.”
“I know that I’ve been letting it slide. I’m definitely going to wash the floors today,” I promised. “I’ll come out here and weed, too. Maybe it’s stupid but I feel funny letting someone else take it when it looks so bad, because they won’t know how hard she used to work and how much she loved it. They won’t appreciate it like she used to. Holy Moses.” I took another tissue and then unlocked the door, and I turned to look at him before I went in.
“Goodbye, Will,” I said. “Thanks again.”
“Bye.” He swiveled and walked back to his car, fast and purposeful. I stood and watched as he drove off, taking the good route to avoid the pothole, and disappearing back into his exciting life of travel and business and football. He was gone, and I wouldn’t see him again. I sat in my grandma’s rocking chair and got lost in thought.
I had plenty to keep me busy, though, over the next few weeks. May warmed into June as I prepared the house by packing, cleaning, and weeding. I also looked hard for a new place to live and tried to figure out how I could keep my grandma’s belongings. It was difficult to let go of anything but I knew that I had to, so I put some up for sale and also gave some away. I triedto fix stuff, too, like the closet door that had been sticking in her bedroom and the bathroom faucet that had begun to slowly drip.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Bug,” Miss Mozella told me when she heard about my attempts.
“She wouldn’t have liked it to go to pieces,” I answered, and she held my arm and nodded as tears welled up in her eyes. For my part, I was mostly too busy to cry, except at night when I was alone in my bed. Then I sobbed into a shirt that I left on my pillow, ready for that purpose.
Besides getting the house ready, I also had to get myself ready for my next stage of life and that proved to be a lot harder than fixing the faucet. I had found a job at the Biscuit Barrel restaurant, but on the morning that I was supposed to start, my car wouldn’t. It was dead, totally dead, and I didn’t have enough money for a rideshare. The bus that eventually got me there made so many stops that I was an hour late on the first day. I wasn’t fired at that moment, but I had a feeling it was coming shortly so I got a second job in preparation for losing the first one. It paid less but the commute was better.
There was plenty to accomplish, but sometimes I took a moment to rest. It was during one of those, when I was sitting in my grandmother’s rocking chair, that Will came home again.
I saw him behind the wheel of a car that stopped at the curb, a different one from what he’d driven the last time he had shown up at my grandma’s house. He got out as I stood, kind of dazed, and it wasn’t only because of how I was a little tired from thedouble I’d pulled the day before and my shift at the restaurant that had begun this morning at four.
“Hi! What are you doing here?” I called.
“You were right about the pothole,” he answered as he walked toward me. “Kids could swim in there.”
“They might start if it gets any hotter.” I watched as he joined me. “You’re back. Is it because of your dad again?”
“I had some time before I need to be in Michigan,” he explained.
“Can I get you anything? Want something to drink? I made a jar of sun tea.”
“Sure,” he answered, and we went inside. He stopped once he saw the living room. “What’s going on?”
“This is what’s left,” I explained. “I gave the couch to the church, for the meeting room. Miss Mozella wanted the chair where my grandma always sat when they knitted together. I also sold her bed and I got someone to take the mattresses.”
