by Curry, Edna
Lisa started to follow the cat, but, by the time she’d taken a few steps across the wet lawn, Baby had already disappeared under the evergreens.
Lisa shrugged and went on into her own house. Baby would come back when she pleased, just as she had last night.
Shivering, Lisa restarted the fire in the fireplace before she began tackling the layers of dust. Occasionally, she found herself stopping at the window, her thoughts returning to the house next door. When would she see Trace again?
When she thought of him, a warm knot of excitement curled in her midriff. What would it have been like if he had kissed her? For a moment last night, she had been sure he would. Would he the next time? Would there even be a next time? Or did he want to forget they’d ever meant anything to each other?
Silly, she scolded herself, you came here to get away from responsibilities, to be free. The last thing you need is to start looking for new trouble. When you were in high school, he went off to college without ever returning. If he’d cared, he’d have come back to see you. Even if his parents had sold their house and moved away, he could have come back. If he’d wanted to see you. He didn’t, so forget it. Let it be.
With that, she turned back to her dusting and sweeping, which was the only cleaning she could do without hot water.
It’s awful how dependent we are on electricity, she thought wryly.
A tall, thin man from the gas company showed up first. He said, “I’ll turn on the gas and light the pilot lights on your water heater and furnace.”
While he was busy, a bald headed, older man who identified himself as a city employee, arrived. He read the water meter and turned on the water. Lisa could hear them chatting in the basement before they came up. She marveled at what a difference their few minutes of work would make to her comfort and thanked them both profusely.
“You should have hot water in a little while,” the gas man assured her, “but you won’t have heat until the electricity is turned on, because the furnace fan and controls are all electric.”
“I see.” Well, at least I can start washing some dishes and countertops, she thought.
“It may be a while before you get electricity,” the man added. “That storm last night knocked out some lines up on the hill by the University. They’ve been workin’ on that since midnight, so the regular stuff, like your hook-up, has to wait.”
“Of course.” Actually, she felt lucky to get as much as she had, crediting small town caring for the fast service.
He touched his cap in farewell, and headed back to his van.
Lisa stood at the window watching the two of them leave, amazed at her own sudden loneliness. The house was silent without the usual hum of the refrigerator motor or a radio playing.
On impulse, she went to Gram’s bedroom to search for her old battery-powered radio. It was still on the bedside table. But of course, the batteries were dead. A tear slipped down her cheek. Whether it was for disappointment, or for loneliness, she couldn’t have said. She brushed it away and marched back to the kitchen to begin on the cupboards and dishes.
As she worked, she thought about the upsetting scene with her kids in her old house in St. Cloud the night before.
***
It had all started after a nice dinner together. Lisa had been at the desk in her bedroom paying bills, when Carol, her real estate agent, had phoned with the wonderful news. The huge old house they were living in had been sold at last.
She’d rushed downstairs to tell Bob and Jodi. They were watching TV in the family room. Bob’s long body was draped across the brown leather sofa and Jodi was curled up in the big recliner.
“I’ve sold the house!” she exclaimed.
For once they gave her their immediate attention.
“You’ve done what?” Jodi gasped, sitting up to stare in dismay at her mother.
“You heard me,” Lisa replied, disappointed they weren’t as pleased as she. Didn’t they understand how much of a burden this expensive old house placed on her shoulders? “Honestly, don’t look so astonished. You’ve known for months that Carol has been showing it for me.”
“Well, yeah, but you always talked like it was impossible. I…I guess I never thought you would really sell it. I mean…”
“You know we’ve been short of money since your father had to quit work. Without his big salary…” Her voice quivered. She would not begin crying again. She was past that. She was.
“Yeah, but…”
“I explained all of it after he died. I’ve told you both repeatedly that I can’t afford this big old house anymore. It shouldn’t surprise you that I sold it. But it is short notice. You’ll have to find your own apartment by the first of next month.”
Jodi stared at her from wide blue eyes, playing up the helpless look she was practicing this month. She spent hours perfecting various expressions and gestures to use in the theater. Lisa was used to them.
This time, however, Lisa saw there might be some real fear behind that look. Jodi might actually feel a little insecure at the idea of supporting herself. She hadn’t, after all, been trying to do it lately.
“But why, Mom? You’ve lived here in St. Cloud all your married life, and so have we. I know we’ve always complained about this huge old place, but it’s our home.”
Loud canned laughter blared from the situation comedy which they’d been watching. Bob got up, shut the television off and turned back to her. “Yeah, Jodi’s right, Ma. This is home.” His baritone voice held a desperate note.
Lisa could sympathize with their reluctance to change. On the other hand, she had put up with far too much of their selfishness. It was time to get tough with them. She glared at them and said, “Well, it’s not home any longer. You’re almost twenty-three, for goodness sake. It’s time you lived on your own. And you, too, Bob. You’re twenty-four and have a good job. It’s long past time to start paying your own way.”
“So that’s what this is all about. Money!” He tossed a relieved grin at his sister, visibly relaxing. “I gave you twenty bucks just last month for groceries, didn’t I? I’m a little short this month, but I’ll pay you some more next month, for sure.” He flopped back down across the sofa and draped his feet up over the back of it in his usual pose.
Lisa closed her eyes in frustration, counted to ten and opened her eyes again to stare at them once more. “This is serious, you two. You have to start looking for apartments, and I mean now, today.”
Bob stared back. “But, Ma, I can’t afford an apartment. I got obligations, man. And car payments. Why, my gas bill alone last month took a week’s pay.”
Lisa’s head snapped up. “You spent a week’s pay on gas? How could you have used that much? You only drive five miles to work.”
Bob shrugged. Unwinding his long legs from the back of the sofa, he leisurely came to his feet. “I dunno. We drove down to Minneapolis a couple of times for concerts and stuff. Just driving around, mostly.”
“You’ll have to economize. I mean this. Carol called and said the Harmons, the couple who looked at this house last week, really want to buy it. They gave her a down payment and I’ve accepted it.”
Jodi turned to give her a suspicious look. “Did you sign any papers?”
“No, but…”
“Well, then, nothing’s for sure,” Jodi rationalized with a shrug. “They probably won’t even get their loan—like the last couple. Besides, I can’t believe they’d really want it after the stuff Mr. Harmon said.”
Jodi lifted her little pointed chin and threw back her shoulders in an accurate imitation of the well dressed man’s attitude. “The house needs a renovation from top to bottom, beginning with the plumbing and the electrical wiring.” Then, as she turned to indicate a different speaker, she relaxed into the new part and her voice went soprano. “I agree, dahling. And ah re-a-lly want more windows in the living room. Or maybe a skylight or two would be nice.”
Lisa hid a smile and shrugged. “Well, you never know. Maybe he can indulg
e his wife with all of it. Carol says they’re rich. If they are, they probably wouldn’t have to wait for a loan.”
Jodi sniffed, lifting a shoulder in disbelief. “Sounded more like an act to me. I never heard such a fake, plastic, sugary tone in my life. I’ll just bet Carol calls back in a few days to say they changed their mind.”
“I suppose that could happen, but…” Lisa frowned at the possibility.
“I gotta go. I was supposed to pick up Annette ten minutes ago.” Bob’s words were interspersed with grunts as he stuffed his big feet into his running shoes. He picked up his denim jacket from the end of the sofa and grabbed a package of chips from the kitchen counter.
“Bob, wait…”
“See ya, later,” he said, and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Jodi stared after Bob, and then frowned accusingly at her mother, as though Bob’s departure were her fault. The motor of his sports car roared to life. “It was his turn to do the dishes, too! Well, don’t think I’ll do them. I did them yesterday.” She bounced off to her room.
They don’t believe me, Lisa had thought despairingly. They think I’m only nagging again, trying to get them to share expenses. They consider free room and board at home their right, as though they’re still teenagers. Why can’t they understand?
Lisa had heaved a troubled sigh and surveyed the mess on the kitchen counters. She’d shoved the milk and butter in the refrigerator and strode out.
***
That was the moment when, Lisa remembered now, as she worked on the cupboards in Gram’s house, she’d decided she could walk out, too, exactly as they had.
Hours later, the cupboards were all refilled with clean dishes, and Lisa decided to go out for lunch. She needed to call Carol anyway, to see if she’d heard anything definite on the sale of her house.
She drove to a nice restaurant and ordered a seafood salad. Ah, luxury, Lisa thought, sighing with pleasure as the clatter of dishes and the buzz of many people talking at once surrounded her.
Revived by some hot coffee, Lisa went to the pay phone and dug out her phone card to call her real estate agent. She really needed to get a cell phone.
“Where did you disappear to?” Carol demanded, her voice sounding relieved.
Lisa explained her sudden need for solitude, thinking it ironic that she had just left that same house to escape the silence.
“Great news! The deal is on!” Carol enthused. “The Harmon’s lawyer is drawing up the papers, and he’s okayed the closing date we set.”
Lisa caught her breath. Could it really be true? They hadn’t backed out?
“Are you there, Lisa?”
“Yes,” She swallowed. “I’m trying to believe it. I…I guess I almost believed they would back out, like all the other people who viewed the house.”
“Well, they didn’t. You haven’t changed your mind about selling it?”
“No. No, of course not. You know that I really have no choice, Carol.”
“Great. You need to sign the purchase agreement. Then you’ll be ready to vacate on the thirty-first as we discussed?”
“Yes. I’ll come back and get started on the sorting and packing right away.”
“Have you decided where you’ll move to?”
“Well, no.” Not exactly. Had she?
Carol had another idea. “The Andersen house is still for sale, you know,” she said. “It’s a small, new bungalow, with low overhead, and it’s right here in St. Cloud. Most important, Lisa, it’s empty. You could move right in.”
Buy another house there? Oh, the kids would love that! Then she’d never get them out on their own. She tried to imagine the three of them in a tiny bungalow.
If they got on each other’s nerves in the big monster, wouldn’t they be fighting even more in closer quarters? Lisa shuddered at the thought. “No, Carol, I don’t want to commit myself to buying another house right now. I really haven’t decided what I want to do.”
“Sure, love. If you decide you do want it, give me a jingle.”
Lisa finished the conversation and said goodbye, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.
She ate her salad, hardly tasting it. Then, suddenly making up her mind to live at Gram’s house temporarily, she decided to finish cleaning it before returning to St. Cloud in the morning. It would be nice to have it ready for her things when she had them moved here. She’d worry about sorting out the rest later.
She called Sam to okay with him her stay in their house, then left the restaurant and stopped at a grocery store, buying more cleaning supplies and food, throwing a few cans of cat food into her basket, in case Baby returned.
Baby was indeed waiting beside the door when Lisa arrived home. The cat slipped inside with her, almost tripping Lisa, who was paying more attention to the bags she was carrying than what was under her feet. She caught herself against the doorjamb just in time.
“Honestly, Cat, why didn’t you stay with Jenny?” she scolded. She carried the bags to the kitchen, and set them on the counter, then slipped off her coat, shivering in the cold house.
Baby had followed her and now sat on her haunches at Lisa’s feet, looking expectant. “Well, I guess you expect me to feed you again, don’t you?”
The cat answered by rubbing her arched furry back against Lisa’s legs. “Your motor is running again,” she said, and obediently looked through her supplies for the cans of cat food.
Opening one, she spooned the food into a plastic dish from the cupboard, putting it on the floor beside the refrigerator then added a dish of water. “Trace is not going to be happy that you’ve gotten outside again,” she scolded the cat.
Baby crouched and began eating daintily, curling her fluffy, black tail around her.
Hugging her sweater closer, Lisa went to add another log to the fireplace then went to the bathroom to freshen up.
Gram’s large bathroom had once been the third bedroom, but had been converted when Gramps’ illness confined him to a wheelchair. The wallpaper on the upper half of the room sported the red and yellow tulips Gram had been so partial to. Seeing them made Lisa wonder about Gram’s flowerbeds around the house. Could they have survived years of neglect? Would the tall red tulips and nodding yellow daffodils come up again this spring?
Suddenly Lisa was glad she would be here to find out.
Chapter 4
In St. Cloud, Jodi returned home at midnight. She read her mother’s note, gasped and stared at it incredulously, and then reread it. She ran up the stairs, checked her mother’s room first, then ran down to look in the garage for her mother’s car.
When Bob arrived a few minutes later, sauntering into the kitchen, Jodi was waiting for him, tapping her toe on the speckled gray floor tile.
“Read this!” she demanded in a harsh voice, pushing the note at him accusingly as if it was all his fault.
“What the…!” Bob read the note, then stared at his sister, for the first time ever at a loss for words.
“She’s gone. Her luggage and car, too. I looked.”
“So, maybe she only needs a break. I mean, she’ll be back tomorrow, don’t you think?” Bob asked.
“Maybe she means it. What if the house really is sold?”
“But dozens of people have looked at it, and they always back out when they find out how much money it will take to fix it up. Even Mom and Dad always said nobody in their right mind would spend that much on a house.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jodi bit her lip, watching Bob help himself to a piece of cold chicken and a glass of milk from the refrigerator. She took a diet cola for herself and followed him to the family room where he plopped down on the brown leather sofa. She took her own favorite seat in her late father’s big green recliner. “But the real estate lady, what was her name?”
“Carol Salzer. She’s one of mom’s friends.”
“Yeah, that was it. She told Mom these Harmons are rich.”
“So?”
“So? Bob, don’t you see? What if
they can afford to fix it up like they said? What if the deal doesn’t fall through?”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “Well, I guess we’ll have to help Mom move everything to another house. She still has to have a place to live, doesn’t she?”
Jodi frowned at him, her blue eyes doubtful. “But her note says we have to find an apartment by the first of the month. Doesn’t it sound like she’s made other plans?”
Bob yawned, obviously unimpressed with her logic. “You know Mom and her dramatics. She doesn’t mean it.”
He grinned at Jodi and set down his glass on the coffee table, licking his greasy fingers. “I’m going to bed. You’ll see. She’ll have supper on the table when we get home from work tomorrow, just like always.”
Jodi shook her head. “I’m not so sure. Sylvia wants a roommate to share her apartment. I think I’ll tell her to hold off advertising it, just in case. It would be kinda fun living with her.”
Bob shrugged. “Suit yourself. But when I had an apartment, I didn’t have a nickel left for anything fun after paying rent and electricity and stuff. I’m in no hurry to start juggling the bills again.”
“Sharing wasn’t so bad. Besides, I got a raise, so I’m making almost double what I was when I was out on my own a couple of years ago.”
“So am I,” Bob said, not allowing his sister to imply she was earning more than he was. “But cars and girls are more expensive for men, you know.”
“Annette is more expensive, you mean,” Jodi said dryly.
“She’s worth it. Say, if the house really does sell, maybe Mom’s planning to take some of those trips she and Dad always talked about. You know to Hawaii and the Bahamas. Maybe we could talk her into taking one of us along.”
“I suppose if she did sell it, she could afford to do that.”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “And you know she shouldn’t be traveling alone.”
Jodi frowned, and then said reluctantly, “I suppose that’s true.”
“It might not turn out so bad, after all.”
“We’ll see. I’m still going to call Sylvia. Oh, and Bob?” Jodi said as they headed down the hall toward their bedrooms.