Stuck in the Middle (3 page)

“Maybe she couldn’t get off work. Or maybe he’s single.”

“Oh, surely not. Why would a single man want to live in a house instead of an apartment?”

Joan shrugged and scooped a forkful of apples into her mouth. Gram was far more interested than she cared to be in the goings-on of the neighborhood. That was understandable, since Gram had lived in this house for most of her adult life. When she and Grandpa built it, the road wasn’t even paved yet. She had watched families come and go over the years and made sure she knew every one of their names. Not a person moved onto the street without receiving a pie or a plate of cookies from Grace Hancock, the self-appointed welcome wagon lady of Elmtree Drive.

“I hope he’s not a drug dealer,” Gram said suddenly.

She looked so alarmed Joan couldn’t help laughing. “What makes you think he could be a drug dealer?”

“If he’s single, there’s only one reason he wouldn’t want to live in an apartment. He wants to avoid nosy neighbors. Those people live right on top of each other in apartments, and they can hear right through the walls. No privacy at all. A drug dealer wants his privacy, you know. And besides, it takes money to buy a house, and drug dealers make good money.”

Her blue eyes were round as glazed Krispy Kremes, and Joan laughed again. “You’ve been watching too much television. And besides, not all apartments are like that. Look at Tori’s.”

That silenced her. Joan fell silent as well, and stabbed at a piece of pork chop while battling a flash of envy at her baby sister’s incredible good luck. Tori lived in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment in a gated community. No roommate. She could afford to pay the outrageous rent because her salary was nearly twice what Joan made. She landed a job as a marketing analyst with a ritzy advertising firm straight out of college.

Joan, on the other hand, still lived at home. That had not been her plan. She stayed home during college to save money, as did all three sisters, and planned to move out when she got a job after graduation. But when Grandpa died during her senior year, she couldn’t make herself leave. Gram had been devastated, and Mom had her hands full with her nursing job at the hospital and with Tori, who had just started at the university. Allie had graduated two years before and moved into her own place, and the house seemed to echo with the silence Grandpa’s absence created. So, instead of leaving her small hometown, Joan became the manager of Abernathy Sales and Rental, figuring in a year or so she’d look for a job that made use of her English degree.

That was three years ago.

“Well, anyway,” Gram said, setting down her fork and dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, “if he
is
a drug dealer, he’d just better watch out. I’ll call the police. We have a school right around the corner, and I won’t put up with a drug dealer when all those children walk down this street every day.”

She pressed her lips tight and raised her chin high. Joan didn’t doubt her for a minute. Drug dealers didn’t stand a chance on Elmtree Drive.

~ 2 ~

“Would you please explain why I’m sitting on a hard chair, breathing someone’s armpit smell and sweating like a basketball player?”

Joan bore the brunt of her sister’s glare, watching her work feverishly to generate a breeze with her program. Allie did look miserable. Sweat beaded on her red forehead, and though Joan thought her older sister a beautiful woman, her damp hair had formed a blonde skullcap around her face that wasn’t all that flattering.

“Shhh.” Joan glanced around to see if anyone had overheard. Folding chairs crowded the gymnasium so closely together that a private conversation was nearly impossible. She couldn’t be sure about the source of the odor, but someone sitting in the vicinity could certainly benefit from a prolonged encounter with a bar of soap and a stick of deodorant. She leaned toward Allie and whispered, “You’re here because Tiffany’s mom had to work at the restaurant tonight, and no six-year-old should play in her first piano recital without a cheering section. And Gram didn’t want to miss
CSI
on television.”

“Rosa is
your
employee.” Allie’s eyebrows drew together as she pouted. “Why do I get stuck watching her kid while she works at her second job? I work all day long too, you know.”

“You didn’t mind the free nachos she gave us last week. And don’t forget, we’re going for ice cream when this is over. My treat.” Joan grinned at her sister’s scowl, and managed not to make a comment about Allie’s cushy job as a state employee for social services. Allie’s brusque manner didn’t fool her. She was a softie when it came to kids. And bribing her with ice cream didn’t hurt any, either.

“I’m having a double dip too. With sprinkles.” Allie sat back in her chair and sucked in a loud breath, rubbing the gigantic bump of her belly. “Ooh, she doesn’t like the heat, either. She’s kicking me.”

“Where? Let me feel!”

Allie took Joan’s hand and placed it on her side. Joan sat breathless for a moment, waiting for her niece-to-be to perform the only trick she had managed to master yet— kicking the eager adults counting the days until her arrival. Finally, Joan felt a firm poke beneath her fingers.

“Wow. That kid’s getting strong!”

Allie arched and placed a fist in the small of her back for support. “Tell me about it. Her favorite playtime is right after I go to bed. Try sleeping with a kangaroo on your bladder.”

Joan pushed against Allie’s belly, thrilled when the baby pushed back. They were still playing their aunt-and-niece game when a woman in a beige blouse and straight skirt walked onto the stage. The audience of about fifty or so grew quiet to hear her voice echo in the gymnasium without benefit of a microphone.

“Hello, and welcome to our summer recital. We’ve got a full program for you tonight, so I want to get started. But first let’s get a few housekeeping rules out of the way.”

“Full is right,” Allie grumbled. “Have you seen the number of kids on this program? We’re going to be here all night.”

“Shhhhh.” Joan gave her a disapproving stare, and then pointedly turned her attention toward the stage.

The piano teacher told them how to find the bathrooms, which the sisters already knew because the location of the nearest bathroom was at the top of Allie’s priority list. Then the teacher explained that the performers would play in order of the number of years they had been taking lessons.

Joan leaned over to whisper in Allie’s ear. “That’s good. Tiffany only started playing a couple of months ago.”

“God must love me after all.” Allie answered loudly enough that a woman two rows ahead twisted in her seat to stare.

From the stage, the teacher’s volume rose a notch. “Please give our performers the courtesy of your attention
and silence
as they play.”

She cast a stern look their way, over the heads of all the parents sitting in front of them. The sisters locked gazes and giggled. As a kid, Joan often got in trouble because of Allie’s incessant chatter and a voice that tended to carry to the front of any room. Funny how some things never changed.

When Tiffany stepped out onto the stage and took her place at the piano after only two other performers, Joan cast a wide smile toward Allie, who rolled her eyes and blew her bangs off her moist forehead. But then they both sat up straight in their chairs, giving little Tiffany their full attention. She only messed up a couple of times, and started over once. When she finished, she stood and bowed like a miniature Liberace, and Joan clapped so hard the palms of her hands stung. Beside her, Allie shouted “woo-hoo” like she used to do at football games, which made several people turn around to get a look at the rowdy pregnant woman on the back row. The sound drew another glare from the piano teacher. Joan avoided the woman’s gaze. She wouldn’t dream of shouting in public and had never completely outgrown being embarrassed by her lively sisters.

Joan and Allie sat through a few more performances before catching Tiffany’s eye to wave goodbye. She would ride home with another kid’s mom, and the sisters had an appointment with a couple of ice cream cones for which they didn’t want to be late.

True to her word, Allie ordered a giant waffle cone with two dips of butter pecan praline ice cream.

“More sprinkles,” she barked when the high school kid behind the counter tried to hand her an insufficiently covered cone. Then she softened her bark with a grin. “I deserve it. After all, I’m eating for two.”

“You’re going to deserve all that time on the treadmill after this baby is born too.” Joan leveled a pointed glance toward Allie’s rear end.

Allie winced. “Sisters can be so cruel.”

Her jibe earned Joan a punch on the arm before Allie took the cone being offered to her over the counter. If there was actual ice cream under all those sprinkles, Joan couldn’t see it. Her nose filled with the heavenly sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones, tempting her to follow Allie’s example. She ran a finger inside the waistline of her jeans. They’d been a little tight the past week or so. Ice cream by itself was enough of a splurge—no sense adding more calories. She ordered a single scoop of chocolate in a cup and joined Allie at a table by the window.

They ate in blissful silence for a moment. When Allie had licked off every last sprinkle, she caught Joan in a direct stare across the table.

“So, Mom says Gram is losing it.”

Joan didn’t bother hiding a grimace. “Mom needs to let up a little. Gram is eighty-three years old. If she wants to alphabetize the laundry, let her.”

Allie shook her head. “That’s not what Mom’s worried about, Joan. Gram is getting forgetful too. I’ve seen that myself. And she’s alone in that house for a good chunk of the day. What if she decides to do something worse than alphabetizing? Something dangerous?”

“That’s ridiculous. What would she do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’ll forget she put something on the stove and burn the house down.”

“She’s been cooking for more years than any of us have been alive. She’s not going to do that.” Joan shoved the plastic spoon into her ice cream, avoiding her sister’s eyes. No one knew that she came home a couple of weeks ago to find a pan of green beans burned dry on the stove and Gram in the bathroom cleaning the medicine cabinet. “Besides, Mom is there until almost four o’clock when she leaves for work, and I get home by 7:15. Gram is only alone in the house for a few hours.”

“Mom sleeps most of the morning. You know that. And a few minutes is all it would take for a disaster to happen.” Joan thrust her chin into the air. “Nothing is going to happen. Mom is menopausal, that’s all. She finds fault with everything Gram and I do.”

Allie concentrated for a moment on licking the melting rivers of ice cream that ran down the side of her cone onto her fingers.

“I’m going to say something you don’t want to hear. I’ve noticed a change since you and Roger broke up. You’ve gotten defensive.”

“Defensive?” Joan sat straight up and glared at her sister. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re doing it right now.”

A tiny flame of anger flickered as Joan forced herself to relax against the plastic seat back. If defending her grandmother from unjustified insinuations that she was losing her mind set Joan against her mother, so be it. She could handle Mom. But to have her older sister throw her failed romantic relationship in her face was not fair. “I don’t see what Roger has to do with any of this.”

“I’m not talking about Roger. I’m talking about you.” Allie examined her ice cream cone for a moment before continuing, her voice gentle. “I know you expected to marry Roger. Feeling a little desperate is normal.”

“First I’m defensive, and then I’m desperate?” Joan sucked in a quick breath. “I’m not exactly over the hill, you know.”

Allie’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t say anything about being over the hill.”

“Well, whatever you’re trying to say isn’t coming through.” With a degree in social work and a few psych courses under her belt, Allie loved to analyze everyone. Usually Joan tolerated the armchair psychology with good grace, but this came close to crossing a line.

Allie leaned forward, and Joan had no choice but to lock eyes with her. “You and Roger dated for nine years. His absence leaves a hole in your life. It’s almost like a death or a divorce. Maybe you’re feeling a little desperate to think you might lose someone else important to you.”

The flicker of anger disappeared. Joan swallowed, her throat tight. Truth rang faintly in Allie’s words. She and Roger started dating their sophomore year in high school and losing him
had
felt like a divorce. Not one of her choosing, either. To have him marry someone from his office a few months later left her humiliated and aching. And lonely.

She raised her chin. She was not prepared to discuss Roger the Rat with Allie or anyone else. Instead, she focused on a message Allie had not actually said but insinuated.

“What do you mean I might lose Gram? Does Mom want to send her away somewhere?”

Allie heaved a sigh. “Mom wants what’s best for her mother. She doesn’t know what that is. I don’t think she’s ready to lock Gram away in a home against her will, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s good, because I won’t let that happen. I’ll hire someone to come in and stay with her during the day before I let her go into a home.”

“Tell that to Mom.” Allie reached across the table with her free hand and grabbed Joan’s. “She loves Gram as much as you do. She’s worried about her, and she feels like she’s facing this alone because you get defensive whenever she tries to talk to you about it.”

Allie squeezed before pulling away, leaving Joan’s hand sticky with butter pecan praline. They returned to their ice cream, letting the sounds of the restaurant fill the silence between them: fifties music playing faintly from speakers recessed in the ceiling; the giggling of two teenage girls flirting with the kid who had served them; a woman at a table in the corner talking into her cell phone. As the woman’s voice droned on, Joan realized with a flash of guilt that she had not talked to her mother in the three days since hanging up on her in the furniture store. They rarely saw one another since Mom didn’t get home from work until after 4:00 in the morning and was asleep when Joan got out of bed for her morning run at 6:30. Most of their conversations took place over the phone, and Mom had not called again. Joan knew she had been too abrupt. No wonder Mom felt like they couldn’t have a civil conversation about Gram. Joan scooped the last bite of chocolate from her cup, sucked the spoon dry, and put it on the table.