Eighty and Out (19 page)

The month after Jeannie died, I was so depressed I didn’t want to get out of bed. But my parents needed me, and there were daily business tasks to handle, so I pushed through. Jim had suggested hiring someone part time so I could focus on family and not have to worry about work, but I was reluctant to give up my responsibilities.

I heard the doorbell ring as I folded laundry. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but when I looked through the peephole, saw a man in a brown uniform. He handed me a box from Bernice, which I opened as soon as he left.

I gave her a call. “Thanks for the presents. I love them.”

“The scented candle and bubble bath are from me and Alejandro. The tequila is from Juan.”

“I had a feeling. Tell him I said thanks.” The tequila was one of those hard-to-find brands. I was thankful for the gift, but fearful I might guzzle the whole bottle in the hopes I’d feel better.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

I wanted to lie and say things were getting a little easier each day, but they weren’t, and this was Bernice I was talking to. “I really miss her,” I said. “I keep thinking I might see her around the next corner, but I know I never will.”

Bernice sighed. “Life can be so unfair.”

“Lung cancer,” I said. “Can you believe it? She never smoked a single cigarette.”

My thoughts turned to work. “Jim wants to hire someone part time. He thinks I need time to grieve, but I feel like if I stop working, my life won’t have meaning, you know?”

“I can see why you might feel that way. But I agree with Jim. If you can afford to take a break, you’d be better off. The work will always be there when you come back.”

Bernice was right. It wasn’t like I worked for someone else and had to worry about keeping my job. We had our own business and could afford to hire someone for a while.

“Maybe you’re right,” I told her. “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to get fired for leaving.”

“Exactly. You’re still the boss. Just a boss taking a much-needed break.”

After we said goodbye, I put the tequila in the cupboard, lit a candle and headed to the bathroom with the bubble bath. I filled the tub, immersed myself in the sudsy water, and gazed at the flame. It burned steady at first, then danced from side to side, seeming to have a life of its own. Next thing I knew, I woke up shivering in a dark room, the only illumination an orange dot from the top of the wick that hadn’t yet drowned in its wax.

I found a nearby towel and dried off. I climbed into bed and noticed Jim was still awake. I gave him a kiss.

“Did you happen to call the guy to come out and replace the water heater in unit ten?” he asked.

“Shoot. I completely forgot. I’ll call first thing in the morning.”

Jim turned to me. “Don’t worry. I can do it.”

I had been forgetting a lot of things. And as much as I wanted to be involved in our business, it wasn’t fair to treat the tenants that way.

I snuggled up to Jim. “I was thinking about what you said. About hiring someone part time. I guess it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

He kissed my forehead. “Good. Take some time for you. Even if it’s just to stay home and read your romance novels and relax.”

“And it’s only temporary,” I added.

“Of course. We’ll make sure to say it’s a short-term position when we place the ad. That way, there’s no confusion.”

I felt like weight had been lifted from my chest after we finished the discussion. Learning to live without Jeannie while helping my parents and having health issues of my own was all I could handle right now. Sometimes even that was too much. As I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, I was grateful. The temp worker would be a godsend.

The next day, Jim told me to take it easy, that he and his dad would handle things until they found someone, so I slept late. I lingered over breakfast, read a few chapters of my novel, and made an appointment to get a manicure, something I hadn’t done in a long time.

As I studied my reflection in the mirror, I realized I needed to focus more on my appearance. In the midst of everything, I hadn’t been bothering to dye my gray roots or apply make-up. That would change starting today, I decided.

“Long time no see,” my manicurist said. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been better.” I set my purse down. “My younger sister passed away recently. It was very sudden.”

“Oh, honey, that’s terrible. Sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

I selected a polish color, then told her about Jeannie’s illness as she painted my nails.

“So sad. Especially since she never smoked.” She coughed, and from the sound of it, I could tell she did.

“It’s a good thing you came here today. You need to treat yourself from time to time.” She smiled at me.

“I’m going to be here more often,” I assured her. “My husband convinced me to take a break from work. Says we’re going to hire a temp.”

“I know someone if you’re interested.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“My daughter, Miranda. She just got a divorce and has been having a hard time. She could really use the money, too.”

“What kind of experience does she have?” I asked.

“She used to work in a realtor’s office, but now that she’s living with me, it’s too far away, so she’s trying to find something else. Keep her in mind,” she said, trying not to seem pushy.

When I got home, Jim complimented me on my nails, and I told him about my manicurist’s daughter.

“Huh. Well if she’s got realtor’s office experience, that’s even better. It would save us the trouble of having to put an ad in the paper.” He put his hand to his chin, giving it more thought. “But what if she doesn’t work out? Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable if we had to let her go since she’s your friend’s daughter?”

“If she doesn’t work out, you could just say I’m coming back. That way no one’s the wiser if you have to hire someone else.”

“Good point. It’s settled then. Set up a time for the lady’s daughter and me to meet, and then if she seems okay, we have our person.”

I nodded, happy I was taking part in company business even while on break.

The next day I called the nail salon and got Miranda’s phone number, and after a brief conversation, set up a time for her to meet Jim for an interview. Then I was off to the hair salon to have my hair cut and dyed.

When I came home from the salon, I felt good. The pampering was having a positive effect. I would have to try and convince my mom to get out and do the same. Better yet, I’d bring her with me for a day of luxurious indulgence.

I didn’t have a clue how to cheer up my dad, though. Maybe just having Mom in a better mood would make him feel better. And I still had Chuck, Lisa, and Tim to check in on. I wanted to plan something special with them.

I heard Jim come home.

“How was the interview?” I asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“It went well. Sharp kid, around Lisa’s age. She’ll do fine,” he said, then gave me a kiss.

We spent the night talking about current world events, something we hadn’t done in a while. Then we made love, another thing we hadn’t done in a while, and as I lay on my pillow listening to him snore, I was happy.

*****

Dad answered the door when I got to my parents’ house.

“You want to come to the nail salon with us?” I joked.

“I think I’ll pass. You and your mother go and have a good time.”

I didn’t need another manicure, but since I was taking my mom for one, I figured I’d get a polish change before we went to lunch.

“Thanks so much for hiring my daughter,” my manicurist said. “She’s been depressed for a while, and that’s the first good thing that’s happened to her.”

“Happy to help.” I handed her a bottle of bright pink polish. “Hopefully, it’s the start of a positive trend.”

We chatted easily the rest of the visit, my mom sitting next to me with her nail technician, making her own small talk, and when we were done, we headed to a little café for lunch.

Mom set her menu down. “How are you holding up?” she asked me.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

Mom exhaled, letting her guard down. “It’s hard. A parent never thinks they’ll outlive their child.” She got a little teary-eyed. “I wouldn’t wish the pain on anyone.”

“I miss her so much,” I said. “I wish she was still here.”

The waitress came over, an older lady with a kind face and an updo hairstyle from another era. “Why don’t I give you ladies some time and I’ll be back for your order,” she said in a soft voice, seeming to understand we were going through something.

We ate our comfort food, which was exactly what we needed. When I dropped Mom off at home, she thanked me for the day out and gave me a big hug and a kiss. “They say time heals all wounds,” she said.

“I hope so.” I smiled, then waved goodbye, hoping she was right.

Early the next morning, my dad called to tell me my mom had died in her sleep.

I sat, trying to digest the news. Then my heart shattered all over again, into a million un-mendable fragments. She would never have a chance to find out if she was right.

Mom’s funeral was a blur. Unlike Jeannie’s, where people got up and spoke, this time no one did. Not because they didn’t care or want to honor her, but because everyone was still too shell-shocked from the suddenness of her loss.

I sat in the kitchen staring at a bowl of cereal I couldn’t bring myself to eat, then remembered the unopened bottle of tequila in the cupboard. It beckoned me with its promise of dulling my pain, but I decided I didn’t want to drown my sorrows in booze and get a headache, so I passed.

I got up and poured my food down the garbage disposal.

First Jeannie, now Mom. It was still so hard to believe.

Jeannie’s passing had been devastating, but I had at least gotten time to prepare, however short. With Mom, one day we were having lunch, the next day she was gone. Just like that.

I stared out the window and it began snowing; small white flakes that hypnotized me, taking me back to the time when Mom, Jeannie and I made snow angels together in the backyard.

“Do you think there is snow in Heaven?” Jeannie had asked as we lay staring at the sky.

“That’s where it comes from,” Mom had answered. “But God sends it to us once and a while so we can make angels.”

The memory made me smile. Then a cold draft crept in and sent me back to the bedroom, where I hid under a mound of blankets. The scent of Jim’s cologne lingered on his pillow, and I pulled it close, thinking how lucky I was to have a husband who took such great care of me. I didn’t know when I’d be ready to return to work, but it was nice knowing I didn’t have to worry about it.

“We should invite your dad to dinner,” Jim suggested after we finished eating.

I hadn’t been over to see him as much as I had planned to. “That’s a good idea. Which night?” He and his dad had been putting in long hours lately, repairing a few broken washing machines at the Laundromat and cleaning up one of the units a tenant had trashed before being evicted.

“How about Saturday?”

“Okay. Should I invite your dad, too? He hasn’t been over in a while.”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

When I got off the phone with my dad, I realized just how depressed he was and decided to stop by the next day.

Dad looked surprised when he answered the door. “Hey, honey. I didn’t know you were coming or I would have straightened up.”

“Don’t worry,” I said as I stepped inside. “It’s just me.”

The house was a mess, with dirty dishes on the coffee table, socks and shoes left wherever he had taken them off, his coat hanging from the top of the exercise bike. A quick glance at the curio cabinet told me it hadn’t been dusted since Mom had died.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I’m in the mood for Luke’s and thought you might like to join me.”

Dad’s face lit up. Luke’s was his favorite hot dog stand. “I won’t say no to that,” he replied, reaching for his coat.

We drove to the restaurant, and after we placed our order, he asked, “Didn’t your friend open one of these in New Mexico?”

“Sort of. She was craving Luke’s and couldn’t get a decent hot dog out there, so she started a chain of her own called Chicago Dogs.”

They called our number, and I grabbed our tray, taking it to the counter so we could sit on the stools that had a view of the busy street. Dad and I dug in, then we nodded at each other, the sound effects we made summing up how much we loved our meal.

When we were finished, we sat and watched the people go by outside. I wanted to ask how he was doing, but chose not to spoil the moment with conversation. It felt right just to sit together in silence.

Time passed like a slow-moving train. But it was a good kind of slow. After a while, it finally felt right to break the silence.

“Do you want to get chocolate malts to go?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “Dessert is on me.”

By the time we got back to the house, our bellies were on the verge of bursting. Dad eased into his favorite chair, and I sat on the sofa and sighed.

I turned to him and smiled. “I should clean the house to burn off some of these calories.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I know, but I want to. If I go home, I’ll just end up taking a nap and get fat.”

“Well, okay then.”

He knew I was trying to help, but we had to play the game first, the one where he acted like he didn’t need anyone and I pretended I was doing it for another reason. The truth was we both needed each other, but it wasn’t easy to come out and say.

“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked. “I’m having Jim’s dad over for dinner on Saturday, and we were hoping you could make it.”

“Chuck is taking me to a Bears game tomorrow, but I’ve got nothing happening on Saturday.”

“Okay. Come by at six then.”

We made small talk before I started cleaning, and when I was finished, I gave him a big hug before putting on my coat. “Give me a call if you need anything.”

“Will do. See you Saturday.”

I wished we could have talked about how he was coping without Mom, but my dad had never been one to discuss things like that. Maybe keeping him busy would help. With me stopping by, and Chuck taking him to a game, then dinner at our place. Or perhaps Mom was right. Perhaps all he needed was time.

On Saturday, I made a roast with mashed potatoes, a recipe my mom had taught me long ago.

“This is delicious,” Dad said.

“Thanks. I remembered it’s your favorite.”

Jim’s dad’s plate was almost empty. “I’ll have to agree,” he chimed in. “I should eat here more often.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” I said, then glanced at my dad. “You, too.”

We cleaned our plates and made casual conversation. Afterward, I set out small slices of cheesecake for everyone.

“My ex-wife used to make the best cheesecake,” Jim’s dad said.

He never talked about Jim’s mom.

“If you’re still on speaking terms, maybe you can get the recipe for Lou,” my dad suggested.

“She died a year ago, so I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

Stunned, I turned to Jim, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” my dad said. Then he glanced at me. “Your mom made the best chocolate chip cookies, remember?”

I nodded, still thrown by the news about Jim’s mom. “How about I make some soon and drop a batch off by you?” I managed to say.

Dad smiled, and even though I was happy to see it, my mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why my husband would keep such a huge secret from me.

We headed to the family room afterward and continued chatting. Whenever I tried to catch Jim’s eye, he purposefully ignored me. I couldn’t wait for everyone to leave so we could talk about it, and he, sensing that, chose to drag their visit out for as long as possible.

When Dad suggested leaving, Jim’s dad chimed in that he was tired and had better get going, too. After we said goodbye, Jim shut the door and turned to face me.

“Before you say anything, I want you to know the reason I didn’t tell you is because it wasn’t important to me.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “How could your mom dying not be important to you?”

“Because we haven’t seen each other in years, and after what happened, we haven’t had a relationship.”

“She’s still your mother,” I said. Jim rarely disappointed me, and when he did it was usually over something minor. This was so unlike him. This seemed… cruel.

Jim let out a frustrated sigh. “You don’t understand because you and your mom were close. When I heard my mom had passed away, it was like hearing a stranger had died.”

I looked down, unable to comprehend how he could have no love for the woman who had raised him.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” he explained. “Because I knew you’d react like this and think I should go to her funeral. I didn’t want to. What’s the point of pretending I cared when I didn’t?”

I lifted my face and gave him a stony stare. “Your mom fell in love with someone else. Is that a good enough reason to lose her only child?” I bit my lip, surprised I’d spoken my mind.

“If she loved me, she wouldn’t have left,” he snapped, his face red with anger.

Jim stormed off, then I heard the bathroom door slam, startling me. I had assumed he was indifferent toward his mom when in reality he had been crushed. I quietly padded to the bathroom and stood outside. I wanted to apologize, but instead listened to him sob for the first time in our entire relationship. The sound broke my heart.