by Ally Hayes
“Why would we need to pay someone? You’re home all day; it’s not brain surgery. Take a little pride in this overpriced cottage you just had to have.”
Knowing there was no point in retaliating or listing the chores she performed that day, Ann continued to fold T-shirts in silence. The next day, however, she looked around with new eyes. There was a lot to fix up. She remembered her last conversation with Patty. Could that really have been four years ago? She wondered if Patty was still into that kind of thing and if she would be interested in helping and teaching her. It would certainly be awkward to call her for help now, and she couldn’t afford to pay her; it would have to be a situation of one friend helping another. Were they still friends?
Ann mulled it over and almost called a few times, the local phone book confirming that Patty did indeed still reside on Maple Road. She chickened out and tried to reattach the handle herself only to find the screw was stripped.
While Jackie was spending her morning at the barre and Robert was at the office, Patty brought her new book on decorating with her into the bagel shop next to the studio. She sat by the window, a whole wheat with light schmear and a cup of herbal tea before her. She settled in to what she thought would be a perfect hour alone, telling herself it was fine that the rest of her little family was busy, it wouldn’t bother her. Ten minutes later, loneliness crept in, her companion as of late. She found herself staring into space and choking back tears, so she was astonished to realize she had company. Standing by the chair across from her own was her old friend. Memories of secretary lunches came flooding back, drowning her loneliness.
“Ann, sit, sit!” Patty found herself insisting, pointing to the empty chair.
“I saw you through the window, but it didn’t seem like you saw me. You looked deep in thought. Are you sure I’m not interrupting something?” She pointed at Patty’s open book. “Studying, maybe?”
“Oh, no this is nothing.” Patty closed the thick book. “Jacqueline has a dance class next door, so I’m just killing some time.” She held up the book, showing Ann the cover.
“Home décor, huh? So are you doing that as a career now?”
“Oh no, I’ve just moved on from fixing up the house to decorating it now—a new venture but still just a hobby.” Patty unknowingly sighed.
“What a coincidence, though. I was on my way to the hardware store to see what I can do about this.” Out of her handbag she produced the infamous cabinet handle and explained how the screw just kept spinning around no matter what she did.
“Well, I hate to say it, but...”
“I’m screwed, right?”
“You said it, not me!” Patty and Ann shared their first laugh in over fifteen years.
Ann placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Can you help me? Come over, guide me? I’m lost.”
“I’d love to. How’s Monday?”
“Great! I’ll have coffee ready. Come early and brace yourself for the worst.”
Ann spent all Sunday night picking up, cleaning, and chucking junk into closets and shoving papers into drawers.
Patty felt nervous, anxious, and thrilled as she knocked on the Foster’s front door.
Ann looked relieved but keyed up as she led Patty to the kitchen. “Okay, first I’ll get you caffeinated then you can pick where to start.”
“How about the handle?” Patty suggested then tried not to gasp at the site before her. The handle was the least of the problems. She talked Ann into removing not only the hardware but the cabinet doors; they would refinish the exteriors then add all new pulls and knobs to instantly update the lackluster design. The task would be time-consuming, but they were both up for it. It would be a good start.
And it was, but then school let out and summer proved challenging.
“Just bring Jackie along. Matt and the girls are usually around; they can keep her company,” Ann offered, not wanting to lose Patty yet again.
Jackie reluctantly came along the next day. She brought a book—she was never comfortable without one—and she really didn’t want to go with her mother to this stranger’s house. She was going into the sixth grade, and she felt old enough to stay home alone—sort of. Her pleas were not convincing, though, so she got into the car with her mother.
“Oh my gosh, Jackie, look at you all grown up! I’ve been hearing all about how great you’re doing in school, and dance, piano, art. Go ahead into the den. I hear the TV, so someone must be awake.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Foster.” Jackie gave her mother a pleading look, but even Jackie could see the backsplash was going to be difficult.
Jackie tentatively stepped into the closed-blinds darkened room to find Matt—she assumed it was Matt as he was the only son—sprawled on the couch staring blankly at the screen.
Matt sensed her presence and sat up straighter. “Hi! Come on in. Jackie, right?”
“Yes. Hi and thank you, Matthew. What are you watching?”
“Smurfs.” He grinned apologetically, realizing she would think the show a bit babyish, but he loved the program, and it was too late to lie—she had seen the little blue creatures.
“Cool,” Jackie said. She sat down on the smaller couch adjacent to the one Matt was occupying.
“Whatcha reading?” Matt pointed to the book Jackie clutched to her chest.
“Oh.” She didn’t realize she had a death grip on it and removed her sweaty palms to turn it around to show him. “Great Expectations.”
“A school book in the summer? You need Smurfs.” Matt chuckled so she would know he was just joking around. After a little laugh, they both turned their attention to the chase ensuing on screen from the bad wizard.
She asked about his sisters, and he listed all their summer jobs: babysitter, lifeguard, and candy striper. “It’s great, they’re gone all day and have money to send me out for ice cream when they have boys over.”
Jackie nodded, though she couldn’t relate. He asked her about being an only child. She shrugged. “I don’t know any other way, but I get bored.” She asked about his school, and she told him about hers. The time flew by.
“Okay, honey, we’re done for today,” Patty called from just outside the den.
Jackie hopped to her feet. “Well, I guess I have to leave now. Thanks for letting me hang out.”
“Sure, come by anytime. I’m usually right here.” He waved from the couch.
Jackie smiled as she walked out to find Patty and finally exhaled. She knew plenty of boys, even liked a few, but this Matt…he was different. He was cool and relaxed and seemed to have no problems talking to her, even though they had only met once. Or was it twice? Anyway, she wished she could be so self-assured, but she always felt tense around boys, like she might say the wrong thing. When she and Matt talked, it seemed easy. They chatted until they simply ran out of things to say.
She’d tried to keep her eyes on the screen, but it was difficult not to glance over at the sandy-haired, lanky boy. She couldn’t tell today, but she remembered his eyes were green when she met him in the supermarket years ago. She remembered well because she didn’t see that type of clear but colorful feature very often. His nose was peeling back then. It had been August. That’s what had caught her attention; the loose, dead skin was just taunting her to give it a quick yank or brush it away. She remembered wondering how he could stand it. Now she knew, he was aloof, carefree enough to ignore a little sunburn.
“What did you and Matthew talk about?” Patty asked Jackie on the drive home.
“Nothing,” she replied from the safety of the backseat, avoiding her mother’s glare in the review mirror.
“Oh come on, you were together for almost two hours.”
“Really, we talked about nothing.” It was true, and her mother just wouldn’t understand that talking about nothing was really something.
The next couple of days proceeded pretty much the same, except now Patty knew what to expect, so did Jackie, and she took a little more time doing her hair and picking out
a T-shirt. By the third day she left the book at home.
“So, Matt, are you ever going to see the light of day?” Ann peeked her head into the den after Patty and Jackie left.
“Sure, Ma. Is it safe to come into the kitchen now?”
“Yes, just don’t touch the backsplash. The grout is setting.”
“No problem there, seeing as I have no clue what the heck a backsplash is.”
Matt plopped down at the table with a box of cereal and gave his mother the look that always worked. She was soon supplying the milk, bowl, and spoon he was lacking. As he crunched and slurped, Ann decided she could get him to talk between bites.
“I really appreciate you waking up early these days and sticking around to entertain Jackie. Her mom is really helping me out.”
“No problem.” Munch.
“So, what’s she like? I assume you figured out she’s adopted. I’ve always wondered how she’s adjusting.” Ann tried to pick her words carefully.
“Seems like a normal girl to me. Kinda cute,” Matt said partly to get a rise out of Ann, but also because it had just occurred to him and he had a tendency to just say whatever popped into his head.
“Oh no, you’d better watch out there. I used to work in the same office as her father. He is a super uptight, over-protective yuppie.” Ann, feeling a rant coming on, stopped herself.
“Relax, Ma, just playing with ya.” Matt flashed her his famous grin. With nothing much to do that day, he found himself thinking about the girl with the jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. The backsplash thing was done, so he wondered if she’d be back again and hoped she would.
By the second week, Jackie’s summer programs at school were underway, and her days became filled with art, archery, book discussions, and dance lessons. She was too busy to accompany her mother to the Fosters’.
Matt spent most summer mornings in front of the television. Then, after at least two rounds of breakfast and maybe lunch, he would meet up with his buddies. They would go to someone’s pool or a park to shoot hoops or ride bikes and cause general mayhem. He would reappear like a loyal dog for dinner each night around six, then he would head back outside at the sound of the ice cream truck. After a round of “night games”–flashlight tag, ghosts in the graveyard—he would return home by nine-thirty or sometimes ten, oftentimes dragged by a sister or two. It was the perfect summer.
Ann and Patty continued to get together twice a week at Ann’s now-presentable house. Their friendship had unearthed and developed into the same comfortable when-I-am-with-you situation it had been at work. As Patty saw it, she was helping Ann out and secretly teaching herself how to possibly deal with a would-be client, should she decide to choose that route someday.
She was content for the time being and more than happy to head to her peaceful home by noon when Ann’s children descended on them, one louder than the other, all demanding something. Helping during the school year had been fine, but summer was stressful. At first, she figured she would be done once the kitchen was updated, but each project had snowballed beyond the kitchen walls. They were doing well now, and she wanted to encourage Ann that she was capable of doing it on her own. She found the summer stretching into fall and no end in sight in the way of projects.
As another school year progressed, Patty could feel Ann’s dependency wearing on her. She needed to plan an out for the summer when all those kids were around. She couldn’t take another summer at the Fosters’. It had been a year—long enough—and they had both benefitted. Patty was ready; all she needed was a travel agent and some guts.
While washing out paintbrushes on a Thursday morning in late June, she decided it was time to tell Ann about their vacation plans—her out.
“Oh, Ann, I told you we’re going to the Vineyard for two weeks, didn’t I? I’ll come by on Tuesday, but then we’re off.” She tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, not the liberation she was craving.
“Well, that sounds like fun. We’re going to Bill’s sister’s house for the Fourth—all seventeen of us!”
The Hamilton Family returned from their trip rested, rejuvenated, and a bit restless. Each member had new plans for the remainder of the summer vacation. Patty hoped to permanently break away from Ann’s projects and research starting a business of her own. Robert was going to break one hundred. Really this time, it was getting embarrassing. With no obligations, as summer semester had ended, Jackie saw the rest of the summer as one big opportunity to branch out. She was twelve now. She would call her outgoing friend, Brianna, and finally accept her invitation to the town pool, see what it was all about—without her mom.
While sorting through the pile of mail held during their vacation, Patty came across an envelope with familiar, sloppy penmanship. Flipping it over confirmed her suspicion when she read the return address. It was from Ann. Instead of immediately opening it, Patty conjured up visions of what it could possibly contain. An invitation to a birthday party perhaps? A Tupperware night, or had one of the girls graduated? At last, she couldn’t stand the anticipation and opened it. It was a sincere and heartfelt thank-you note from Ann expressing her appreciation for Patty’s hard work and gratitude for their friendship. Patty felt like a jerk. Ann had such simple needs. Who was she to think she was any better than her? Patty resolved that she would not speak ill of her again. She would call her to get together for coffee. Yes, that’s what she would do—keep it light.
Patty was pleased with her decision and cheerfully answered the phone when it rang a few moments later.
“Oh good, you’re back!” Ann practically sang into the receiver.
“Yes, a couple of days ago, in fact. I’ve just been busy with catching up on the laundry and cleaning. Actually, I just picked up the mail only an hour ago.”
“Oh, you don’t have to justify your time to me. I wasn’t calling to bug you for help. I want to invite you and the family to a neighborhood cookout we’re having this Saturday to say thanks and have some fun together.”
What could she do after resolving to be kind? She had to accept, and enthusiastically at that. Robert would be mad, Jackie bored, but they had to go.
The family of three each slammed their respective car door and tentatively proceeded toward the backyard. All carrying a contribution to the party, they hesitated at the latched gate. Ann spotted them immediately and quickly came to the rescue. In a too-short, too-tight white denim skirt and equally tight sleeveless blouse, she could barely bend down to unlock the picket barrier.
“Sorry, not trying to keep you out. Got a bunch of toddlers here who have been known to escape,” Ann apologized.
“So I see. What a turnout!” Patty exclaimed in surprise while peering at the backyard. It was filled with adults clutching drinks, kids running amuck, some on an old rusted swing set holding popsicles. There was a sprinkler set up in the far corner, abandoned now, but still running, creating grass puddles. They were fashionably late at Robert’s request, and it showed.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have. Let me take those from you.” Ann took the imported beer from Robert, brownies from Jackie, and as she did not have enough hands to relieve Patty of her dip, she insisted Patty come with her to the picnic table on the patio.
“Jackie, you know the kids. Bob, you know some of the guys. Go have fun.” Ann made it clear she wasn’t going to hold their hands and was not about to let Patty either.
“It’s Robert,” he muttered to Ann’s back and turned to his daughter. “You know ‘the kids,’ Jacqueline?”
“Not really, just Matt. I’ve seen his sisters but don’t know who is who. Do you know ‘some of the guys?’”
“Not a one, not even sure I could point out Bill. I think he’s a redhead. Let’s go find a drink; it makes you appear at ease when you have something to do with your hands,” Robert suggested. They headed toward the makeshift bar, a card table laden down with soda, ice buckets, and cups. Several coolers were scattered around and under it. Self-serve.
Ann herded
Patty over to a group of women sitting in low lawn chairs wearing plastic sunglasses and holding margarita-style glasses. Ann introduced Patty as her “decorator friend,” gushing about all Patty had done and taught her.
“Geez, the kitchen looks amazing. You’re a real wiz!” exclaimed a woman with a bad case of roots.
The woman next to her spoke up. “Yeah, you should think of starting your own business.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Patty was happy to receive the praise for her hard work, but the effect of standing while they sat there glaring up at her was unsettling. She could easily imagine Ann telling them about her. She felt their stares judging her. In her bedroom’s full-length mirror earlier that day, her silk shirt and long linen shorts looked perfect, but now she felt all wrong.
Robert and Jackie awkwardly tried to find something to do or someone to talk to after getting a can of soda and a bottle of beer had exhausted their activities. Jackie won when Matt approached.
Slightly out of breath, he said, “Hey, Jackie. Mr. Hamilton.”
“Hi, Matthew.” She turned to her father. “Dad, this is Matthew Foster. He’s going into seventh grade like me.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.”
“It’s just Matt. I wanted to know if you’d come play volleyball with the rest of us, Jackie. We’re just starting a new game.”
“Oh, sure. Where’s the net?” Jackie answered while scanning the yard for the required equipment.
“It’s next door at my friend Joey’s house, see.” Matt pointed to the adjacent yard separated by a chain-link fence with a gate in the back corner, connecting the two properties. It appeared intentional. There was indeed a net set up, and the lawn beneath had been trampled to oblivion, suggesting much use.
“Go ahead, honey, have fun. I’ll go mingle.” Robert all but pushed her, happy for one of them to have a plan. He wondered if he should dare find Patty or at least look like he was looking for her.
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.” She turned to Matt who was grinning ear to ear.