Wrecked (Stories of Serendipity #8): #8 (3 page)

“Yeah, sure. I’m better.”

A long-suffering sigh came down the phone lines. “You need to get out and do things for yourself now.”

“I know. It’s only been a few days. Let me wallow for a little while first. I’ll get out and do stuff.”

“It’s your time now. This is how the world works. The kids grow up and move out. Your job is done. Go out and do something for yourself. You don’t have anybody else to do for.”

That stung. “Thanks for the reminder, Mom.”

“Well, now you can go meet people if you’re so inclined.” Renae knew her mother was trying to be helpful, but it wasn’t working. At all. “Anyway… I just wanted to see if you wanted to come to the Women’s Group meeting tomorrow night with me. We could use some younger members.”

“Not this time, maybe next month.” Her mother’s Women’s Group was a bunch of retired women who sat around and drank tea, gossiping about their neighbors. Renae didn’t think that would be super fun right now.

“Okay.”

After hanging up the phone, Renae poured her glass of wine and dialed Kelly’s cell number.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” Kelly sounded breathless and in a hurry. Renae immediately felt guilty for interrupting her to alleviate her own worries.

“Oh nothing. Just calling to check in. How were classes today?”

“Good. I’ve got a lot of homework in that comp class. Ugh. But some girls down the hall and I are going to study together, so I’ve got to go. I love you, Mom. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” She hung up her phone and drank half her glass of wine in one gulp. Kelly was having fun, enjoying her classes, and making friends. Why couldn’t Renae let her alone to do her own thing?

Breathing deeply, Renae took her glass and the bottle into the living room, flipped on the TV, and sat on the sofa. She looked around the room, an amalgamation of Kelly’s and her life together thus far. Pictures on the walls, the leather furniture Renae had splurged on eight years ago when she felt confident that Kelly was old enough to not mess it up with wet clothes or markers, the rag rug her grandmother had made that Kelly had managed to spill Kool Aid on when she was six, dying one edge of it purple for all eternity.

The problem was that Renae had never been alone before. She had married Cody straight out of high school, much to her parents’ disapproval. He’d spent the first part of their marriage holding her firmly under his thumb, and then she’d gotten pregnant. When he’d died, Cody had left her alone to raise Kelly by herself. And she had done a great job of it. Kelly had gone off to college at a decent school on a partial academic scholarship. She was proud of her daughter.

But she didn’t know what to do without her.

Even with the TV on as background noise, her house seemed too quiet.

Her doorbell rang, scattering her thoughts, and before she could get up, a key turned in the lock. Dalton. Her younger brother seemed to have taken on the role of the older sibling lately. Renae had actually begun to enjoy his meddling.

“Hey ‘Nae. How ya doin’?” He waggled a bottle of Jack Daniel’s at her, and she held up her bottle of wine in response.

“Just peachy.”

Plopping himself on the sofa next to her, he swigged straight from the bottle. “It was just yesterday I was changing the little squirt’s diapers, and now… college.” He spoke the final word like it tasted bad in his mouth. “You must be missing her like hell, and I came by to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Never better. This is my time now. I’ve got tons of things to do with myself.” The words were dry on her tongue, and she took a sip of wine to wet her lips. “I just don’t know what.”

“You sound like Mom’s been talking at you again.” She laughed. That was always how he put it. Mom didn’t talk to you. She talked at you.

“Yeah. She makes it sound so damn simple, but I just don’t know how to switch the gears on my life like she’s telling me to. I’ve lived one way for the last sixteen years, and now I’ve got to do it differently.”

“Yeah, but you’ve known it was coming. It’s not like it’s a surprise or anything. You should be celebrating.” He held up his bottle. “To freedom!”

Clinking her wine bottle against his, gingerly, she said, “Freedom from what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sleepless nights waiting for her to come home?”

“You think I’m not going to worry about her away at school?”

“You can’t just have an out of sight out of mind attitude?” Dalton leaned back on the couch, knees spread, bottle in his hand by his side.

“You just wait until Sierra, Cayden, and Milo go off to school. You’ll get it then.”

“Well…” He offered helpfully, “you can get rid of your ridiculous no dating rule.”

“I didn’t have a no dating rule. I just never dated.”

“Okay, well…” He held up his bottle again, apparently feeling a little tipsy, “to dating!”

Renae clinked against it again. “Whatever.”

“What about Les?”

“What about Les?” She countered.

“He’s crazy about you,” Dalton said simply.

“Yeah, and half the women in Serendipity. I can’t date Les. In fact, I’ve already turned him down. Again.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“What are you? My girlfriend? Because dating Les would be like dating… You! I just don’t think I could ever do it.”

“You’d better not ever date me. I’d have to kick my own ass. You are so not allowed to date anybody like me. Ever.” He took a swig from his bottle with a finality that made Renae smile.

“You’re wasting your breath. I’m not looking to start dating.”

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. What do people who are all alone do?” God, that sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

Dalton shrugged. “I used to work and go to the bar all the time. You could become a regular at the Gin.”

“Pass.” She twirled her hair between her fingers. “I guess I’ve always wanted to learn how to do some stuff, like sew and crochet. I could go to the gym, right? I could catch up on my reading.”

“Okay, aside from the gym thing, which is cool, sew or crochet? When did you turn ninety?”

Renae punched her brother in the arm, and they laughed together. She couldn’t remember another time they’d talked like this since their dad had died. It felt good.

“Alyssa was saying that you girls all need to get together and do some sort of makeover thing. Just please, don’t let Alyssa dye her hair. I love it that color.”

“I just need to learn to be alone, I think. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Yeah, but don’t forget your friends. They want to be here for you, and you should let them.”

J
ason was working in the apartment above the store while his Dad was at the hotel hopefully watching TV. He had looked through the classifieds and interviewed half-a-dozen caregivers, choosing the one who looked the strongest. Honestly, he wasn’t happy with any of them, but choices were limited, and Jason didn’t have much time. The man he’d picked was a young guy who seemed extremely apathetic, but he’d be able to pick Dad up if he fell and help him get in and out of bed and the bathtub and stuff.

He was going through his Dad’s living quarters, throwing away most everything, when his brother called.

“Hey Jodie. I was about to call you,” he answered, hearing a screaming tantrum in the background.

“How’s Dad?”

“He’s okay. I’m trying to get him situated here in an apartment, but I can’t move him in until tomorrow, so I’m packing up his stuff and throwing away the trash today. Man, this place is dysfunctional. I’m amazed he’s been making any money.” It was the truth. Joe O’Niel still used one of those old-timey cash registers where you pull down the handle and it makes a ding noise. He’d always used it, saying the customers loved the old-world flair of his store, but Jason marveled at the scales (not digital) and lack of computer usage in the store. All it had taken was a couple of hours to download some software he’d purchased, and now proper shipping rates could be charged internationally to all the customers.

“Yeah, well… that’s sort of why I called. Dad gave me his power of attorney a couple of years ago, just in case something happened to him, and I’ve never really used it before. But I’ve been checking into his financials, and he’s nearly bankrupt. You’ve got more to sort out than just his belongings. The store’s about to go under.” Jason heard a muffled, “Not now, honey. Daddy’s on the phone.”

Jason ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Fuck.”

“I know. I’m worried about him.”

“Me too. You know, he’s still blaming his injuries on squirrels, and I haven’t seen any evidence of squirrels here. At all.”

“Well, at this point — not now Bella. I’m on the phone — At this point, there’s a lot to worry about with Dad. Can you shut down the shop for a few days until we get everything sorted? I’m not sure he’s going to be in any shape to run it anymore, but it’s in the hole right now, and if we shut it down completely, he’s going to owe a lot of money that he just doesn’t have.”

“This store is all he’s got. It would kill him to shut it down, Jodie.”

A voice from downstairs interrupted them. “Hello-ooo!”

“I’ve got to go. There’s an honest-to-God customer. First one all day.”

“Okay, I’ll fax you some stuff, and we’ll talk after the kids go to bed tonight. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Have a good one.”

Jason hung up the phone and went downstairs with his laptop to find Les perusing the greeting cards.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Jason greeted him warmly, considering the guy his only friend in town.

“Pretty good. How’s Joe?”

“Watching “The Price Is Right” in my hotel room, as we speak. He’s going to be pissed when he sees I’m throwing out all his precious garbage. What can I do for you?”

“You play the sax, right?” That was random. Jason was hoping for some business, although he’d talk music until he was blue in the face.

“Yeah, I’m no Stan Getz or anything, but I have fun with it.”

“Well, I’m a guitar player, and I’ve got a buddy who plays the trap set, and we were wondering if we could get a little trio going, sort of a bluesy, jazzy, cover type thing. You interested?”

Jason shrugged, not sure. “I’m not planning on staying in town longer than a couple of weeks. I’ve got to get back to my job before I lose it.”

“What do you do?”

“Graphic design for a company in Houston. I’m using all my vacation time here, trying to get Dad situated, and I’ve got a lot to get done in a short amount of time.”

“What about just one night? We can get together a couple of times before hand, you know, just to test it out. But the owner of the Gin owes me a favor for turning down my offers for a night of amazing sex repeatedly, and we can get on their stage this Friday. It’ll be fun.”

Jason hadn’t played with a group in a while. He hadn’t played for an audience in years, and suddenly the offer sounded damned appealing.

“What are you doing tomorrow during the day?”

“I’m a builder, between jobs at the moment, so I’m open.”

“Help me move my Dad? Do you have a truck? It wouldn’t be much. The apartment is furnished, but if I had access to a truck, I wouldn’t have to make a dozen trips in the Buick.”

Les held out a hand. “You’re on.”

“Cool.”

After Les left, Jason finished packing up Joe’s paltry possessions, grabbed Jodie’s stack of papers off the fax machine, and went to the hotel.

Joe was in the same position he was in when Jason had left, and Jason smelled that he’d at least used the portable potty chair the home health nurse had brought by. She’d looked around the hotel room disapprovingly before Jason explained the temporary arrangement. “Hey, Dad. How’s it going?”

“I need help changing my diaper. Turn about’s fair play,” Joe grumbled.

“Sure, Dad. Let me get you some clean clothes. Do you want a shower?”

“I guess.”

After maneuvering his dad onto the shower chair the nurse had also brought, Jason left the bathroom door open and was looking over the stuff his brother had faxed over.

It looked really bad.

“Dad? Why did you spend three thousand on greeting cards? Do people buy that many?”

“Naw. Nobody buys them, I give away a free card when you ship twenty five dollars’ worth. It’s called an upsale. You need to come to church with me on Sunday.”

“That’s not an upsale, Dad. That’s a free promotion.” Which led to another question. “How do you calculate shipping?”

“Fifty cents a stamp. If it’s over a pound, it’s ten dollars inside the US, twenty international. That usually about covers it. There’s a lady at church I want you to meet. Real nice girl, her daughter just moved out, and she’s lonely. I think you guys could hit it off.”

Jason knew those rates were eating his dad’s profits and probably the main reason he was nearly bankrupt. Sure, that probably covered most of people’s shipping needs, but he ate up the rest with the shortages. Even Jason, who was far from a financial wizard, could see that. He answered his dad’s matchmaking query with a non-committal grunt and went back to the financial stuff. The TV as background noise drew his attention back to his dad.