Page 12 of Two is a Pattern

Annie concentrated on slicing the loaf in half evenly, but when she finished, it looked like it had been sliced by a maniac with a jigsaw. She slathered each half with margarine, hoping no one would notice her botched work.

“Garlic?” she asked.

“There’s some garlic powder in the cabinet just there.” Helen nodded in the general direction of the cabinets. “I use paprika and parsley usually, but however you like it is fine.”

“I’m more of a buy-a-bag-of-rolls kind of cook,” Annie admitted.

“There’s no such thing as too much garlic,” Helen said. “Just a light dusting of the other two.”

“I can do that,” Annie said, not at all certain that she could. She set the open loaf halves on a cookie sheet and sprinkled everything on. When she was done, Helen looked over her shoulder and nodded.

“Good.” She popped the cookie sheet in the oven. “We’re almost there.”

* * *

After everyone had eaten and the adults cleaned up the kitchen, Helen picked up the baby and sat with him on her lap. He reached for her wineglass that was just out of his grasp. Annie had a glass of wine too but was reconsidering the box of chocolates she’d brought that sat forgotten on the counter. If she’d brought wine, she could’ve kept the entire box for herself.

She picked up her glass and sipped. It was white wine, and Annie preferred red if she drank wine at all, but she was grateful for anything that might help calm her nerves.

The older kids had gone upstairs. They seemed indifferent toward her at best. She’d asked them a few polite questions, gauging their interest in interacting with her. Kevin had been the most responsive. Ashley had given short, clipped answers and glared right back at her mother’s stern expression. It wasn’t that it went badly; they just didn’t take to her right away. Most people didn’t.

“You want to see the unit before it gets too dark?” Helen asked finally. Annie hadn’t wanted to bring it up, hadn’t wanted to pressure her, even though it was the entire reason she’d come this evening. The late summer sun was still setting, and everything was awash in orange-and-gold light.

“Sure.”

The backyard was nice, though in need of some attention. Judging by the raised wooden box still full of soil, there had once been a vegetable garden. But now there were only weeds. The whole yard, the whole house even, seemed like it belonged to a woman who once had more time.

Helen, with the baby on one hip, led Annie down the narrow, buckled sidewalk to the side door of the former garage. As Helen reached for the doorknob, she swore.

“I have to go get the key,” she said. “Can you take him?”

“Sure.” Annie reached out and took Zach. At the exchange, he looked like he might start fussing, but then he melted against her. She propped her arm under his bottom and let him rest his head against her shoulder.

“I’ll just be a minute. I’m going to check to make sure my children haven’t drowned one another,” Helen said as she turned back to the house.

Annie was sure she was kidding. Well, pretty sure.

“Okay, let’s peek into this window,” Annie said to Zach, though he’d just been fed and was drowsy in her arms. He smelled sweet and clean, and she pushed her nose against his head and breathed him in.

She stepped closer to the window and peered inside, but it was dark and hard to see anything. Mostly, it seemed empty.

“Well,” Annie said, “she letyoustow away on the good ship Everton, so why not me, right?”

Helen came back a few minutes later, keys in hand. “He’s asleep!”

“Is he?” Annie asked. She couldn’t see his face, mashed up against her shoulder like it was. “We were just chatting.”

“You’re like a Zach magician.” Helen unlocked the door, pushed it open, and flipped on a switch. A single bulb came on, dimly lighting the vacant room. A large area rug covered most of the concrete floor, and she could see a toilet and a narrow shower through the open bathroom door. Her mom and dad’s camper had one about the same size.

“Nice,” Annie said.

Helen laughed, a low bark. “Well, if you want it, it’s yours.”

“Really?”

Helen shrugged. “Sure. You don’t seem crazy, the kids didn’t cry, and the baby likes you. And I could use the money.” She cocked her head. “You aren’t crazy, right?”

“I mean, I went back to school for a second master’s, so I’m not completely sane, but I’m not going to run through the neighborhood naked or anything, no.”

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