Page 47 of The Cadence
“That’s not what I mean,” I said quickly. “I quit chewing on my hair, which was a disgusting habit. I learned to read, didn’t I? I stopped hoarding food under my bed or in my closet. I stopped being quite so hopelessly romantic, too, which was a very good thing. But at heart, I’m still the same Calla that I ever was.”
“At heart, I haven’t changed either.”
I was so glad of that, but I was also aware that he hadn’t meant the statement as something positive. His words had made it sound like a life sentence. “Well, I liked you a lot when we first knew each other and I still do. If my opinion means anything to you—”
“It does,” he said. He started talking about getting in a workout, and asking if I wanted to come. I had managed to pack a weird assortment of things that I could have used for exercise, but I hadn’t brought the right shoes.
“I don’t mind wearing my sandals,” I said when we were in the hotel room. But when we got to the gym where he always went when visiting our hometown, he’d had a pair of tennis shoes delivered there.
“Thank you! But who delivers shoes at this hour? And how did you know my size?” I wondered.
“The number is worn off your sandals but the black shoes with the elastic straps still have a nine on them. Is that the pair you’re wearing tomorrow?” he asked me, and yes, I would put those on for his dad’s funeral, just as I had for my grandma’s.
Will pushed himself very hard at the gym, lifting enough that other people were staring (of course, that might have been due to his identity as a Bodine and a Woodsmen football player, too). I did my stuff but finished a lot sooner, so I sat near the front on one of the benches and read my book. I was in the middle of the good part, where they were finally kissing (and more) when he also finished his workout.
“Ready?” he asked me.
It wasn’t something I was proud of, but probably due to what I’d been reading and also due to the way he looked, his cheeks slightly flushed above his dark beard and wearing his sleeveless t-shirt with the thick muscles of his arms—my breath suddenly caught in my throat and I felt heat spread through my face.
He noticed. “What?” he wondered. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
It was good to be truthful, which was something my grandma had taught me. It was something I hadn’t learned during thefirst decade or so of my life, not until I was blessed to have her in it. However, lying was also necessary if you had a good reason. One of those reasons: I didn’t want to tell Will that I was staring at him like I wanted to rip off his clothes because I did, in fact, want to rip off his clothes. First, a gym was not the place for that. Secondly, he was in mourning! He wasn’t thinking about sex right now. Third and last, he wasn’t ever thinking about sex with me. He had made that very clear.
“I’m hot,” I said. “I got too warm when I tried to do the rowing machine.”
“Are you ready?”
Holy Moses, I was, but not in the way he meant. We went back to the hotel and despite the hard workout, I heard him through the open doors, turning over and over instead of sleeping. I heard him because I wasn’t asleep, either.
The funeral was a lot faster, less attended, and less teary than my grandmother’s had been. The only people who had come, besides the deceased’s wife and son, were two very distant cousins and me. He had been cremated so there was no burial, and we drove Ophelia Bodine back to her house right afterwards.
“We’ll be in touch soon,” she said to her son, who nodded and looked around at the mostly empty room.
“Mama, I want you to consider moving. Think about it. Please,” he answered her, and her mouth compressed into an angry line.
She glanced at me before she spoke. “We’ll discuss it later,” she said. She took a deep breath and turned to me. “I apologize, Calla. I haven’t been a good hostess to you.”
“No…that’s…”
“I’m glad you were here,” she told me. “I’m glad you’re here for my son.” She looked at him. “Goodbye, William.” He kissed her cheek and I also said goodbye, and then we were on our way.
It was cooling down up north in Michigan, but it was still hot in Chattanooga, Tennessee. We walked into the airport after returning the rental car and I was glad to get out of the sun. The fabric of my black dress was heavy for this kind of weather. Luckily for me, the airport here was nothing like Detroit in terms of size and busyness, so it was a short walk to our gate. I limped my way there, and when we sat down to wait for boarding, Will reached into his pocket and handed something to me.
“Band-aids?” I asked, looking at the little box.
“I remembered that those shoes hurt your feet when you wore them before,” he said.
“They do, a lot. Thank you for these.”
“I should have given them to you before, but I forgot I had them.”
“You’ve had a few things on your mind,” I pointed out.
“I still do. I have to do something about my mother.”
“Do you think she’ll sell that house?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I don’t mind paying for it, but I think it would be better for her if she moved on.”
