by Lisa Fenwick
On the way, I passed another small house with a For Rent sign in front. I involuntarily slowed my pace and took a look at it, like I’d done the past few times I’d walked past.
At first, I was wondering if I was curious, because Amy’s little cottage was great to begin with, but now I felt the urge to check out something new. I found myself poring over every detail of the place, wondering what about it was bothering me. I wasn’t tired of living in Berwick. If I were, after all, why would a different rental property be catching my attention?
I considered everything about the cottage. Yes, it was well over a hundred years old and had some of the baggage that came with that. The slowness in the plumbing and the weird drafts that no amount of care and upkeep could keep at bay forever. But the place was all charm, and it was welcoming and cozy without feeling cramped.
It was certainly not the big yard it sat on that had me looking at other places. The small house I was standing in front of had a tiny yard, and Boy had been having way too much fun being able to run to his heart’s content, with or without Smokey.
I realized it had to be something about Amy that had this other house catching my attention. But what was it about Amy? I found her company to be pleasant. I knew that didn’t make sense, but there was something refreshing about the way she had built her life to hide her blindness from other people. Even though it was built on an elaborate deception of others, there was, at its heart, a brutal honesty with her at the root of it. She chose to live that inner truth and hold it up as a challenge to the world.
I’d never met anybody else like her.
I was standing in front of a different house for rent, I had to admit to myself that I liked her, in more than a “she was a pleasant kind of person, and our dogs love each other” kind of way. I was attracted to her, and this was the part that bothered me.
That was why I slowed down at the other house every time I passed it. Amy was my landlord. I was her tenant. The lawyer in me knew that whenever a business relationship became personal, there would be trouble. I’d only leased the place for six months. That was less than four months away, I needed to stop being so paranoid.
“So, Boy,” I asked. “Did you notice too? Am I the last one to know?”
“I’ve seen nothing,” I said to myself, wondering exactly what my impression of a goofy dog voice sounded like, since I had no actual reference from my own memory to base it on. “I’ve been too wrapped up in my bromance with Smokey.”
I suddenly looked around, terribly self-conscious at the fact that I was having a pretend conversation with my dog out on the street in the middle of Sunday morning. I shook my head and picked up the pace to get me past the house quicker.
Business relationship aside, getting anything going with Amy made no sense at all. I was going to be heading back to New York. She seemed very solidly anchored in Berwick. I’d never once picked up on any sense that she wanted to leave this little town. In hindsight, I thought I may have even dropped a leading question here and there to gauge that before I knew why I might be curious about such things.
And it wasn't just the limited shelf life of our time together. I was just over a dozen days from what should have been my wedding day. Even though Ashley moved out some time ago, I was still raw and hurting in a lot of ways. It wouldn’t be fair to Amy when I still had Ashley on my mind, a woman who abandoned me in my time of need. Still, I wished that I could forget the time that we did spend together, the same way that I’d forgotten what really happened that night. But I couldn’t.
We had been living together for a couple of years already, had carefully set up a combination of blended and individual finances. We were both looking for the same things in life. We’d talked about that a lot, when I was working up the courage to propose to her. I had initiated a discussion about the legal pros and cons of getting married or not with a few of my lawyer friends. In an odd sense, my career was a key factor for being a married man. Andrews, Andrews, and Bettan were a very conservative firm in many ways. The employee handbook certainly didn’t say in black and white that associates were expected to acquire spouses, but it was an unwritten requirement to upgrade from junior associate.
I couldn’t help but spin events out to a future where I brought Amy around to meet the senior associates and the partners at the firm. Would they ever accept her? Would her blindness, maybe in tandem with my deafness, make us the kind of couple they could tout as proof of their forward thinking on diversity? Or was her need to pass as not blind so deeply set in her that she’d continue to be the same odd, quirky, fascinating creature that she was? Trying to fit her into that mold would kill her. I was sure of it.
The very thought of starting a relationship with Amy, knowing it would just be for my time in Berwick, wasn’t an option. There was something about the woman that was just too pure and earnest for me to even consider using her as a rebound girl from Ashley, especially since she’d mentioned she’d never been in a relationship before. There was no way I’d be able to live with myself if I were her first relationship, but I had put an expiration date on it right from the start. That just wouldn’t be right.
Her dad abused her mom. Her mom died when she was young. She had no friends, none that she’d mentioned so far. They seemed to be the girl, Jen, who did the weekly cleaning. But then it seemed more of a business arrangement. She hadn’t once in all our time together mentioned a friend or even a cousin or relative. She really was alone. I didn’t need to keep slowing down every time I passed that other little rental property. I could just stride right on past, because there was no way things between Amy and me could work.
I continued on my way to Hyde Garage. Knowing that Amy was out of reach should have made me feel better, once I’d settled into my new rhythm in Berwick. When Ashley left, taking all of her stuff and less than half of what we’d accumulated together, my apartment suddenly felt huge and empty—something that nobody who lived in Manhattan has ever said. All that was left in the apartment were things that were mine. There was a huge empty spot where somebody else used to live with me. Amy’s cottage was filled with Amy’s things. Maybe not the chair she sat in, the bed she slept in, the coffee mug she drank from. But it was filled with her personality, a sense of herself.
It felt the exact opposite of lonely to live in Amy’s cottage, even when she wasn't over visiting with Smokey. I shook my head and forced myself to stop thinking about possibilities with Amy.
The gang down at Hyde helped me forget all about my trail of thought once I got there. Brent Hyde was just coming back from taking somebody out and immediately waved me over to hop in. I did without hesitation and tied Boy back. He reassured me that he would be fine there. Sure enough, I wasn’t the only dog owner, and he always had another dog to play around with. I could tell that he wanted me to leave him alone.
Brent gently pulled out of the lot and took it easy going through town, but as soon as he hit the highway, he opened her up. The engine thrummed with a powerful vibration I could feel as the acceleration pushed me back into the seat. It was barely nice enough to have the top down, and I threw my hands into the air and shouted, “Wahooo!” as we tore down the road. It had been way too long since I’d been in a vehicle designed for the sole purpose of driving really fast, and it lit up every fiber of my being. For twenty minutes, Hyde gave the speed limit absolutely no thought. I could tell by the way he handled the car that he was used to challenging the road we were on. He led every curve just right and smoothly worked the gears up and down as we went up and down hills, or from straightaways to hairpin curves. The dead giveaway of how familiar he was was by how lightly he held the steering wheel. He was working halfway from a sense of muscle memory.
It was a near indescribable joy to be driven by a man who was so passionate about performance. We pulled back into the lot at the garage so he could take someone else out, and I wondered if I’d be able to get my hands on a serious machine and get it optimized before I had to head back down to the city.
“Pretty amazing, huh?” Chesbro asked, as I went to check on Boy. Poor guy would not have enjoyed the ride, even if there was room for him in the Porsche.
“Been too long since I hit a buck and a quarter,” I said. “Way too long.”
“My Bradley won’t drive like that little 914, but if you’re still offering, I’d love to take you up on some help with her. Last time we talked, it sounded like you really do know your way around an engine block and a wiring harness. Despite your manicure and your clothes looking like they cost more than my Sunday best.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Chesbro liked to play up that he was a real rural boy to my soft city slicker, but he spent nearly thirty years as a financial advisor in Boston before coming back home to Berwick for early retirement.
“Your Sunday best wasn’t all that,” I told him, taking the collar of his old work shirt in my fingertips. “Maybe this cost you ten bucks when it was new, back in ’93?”
“Ten bucks was real money back then.”
“It's still real money. Just not a useful amount of it. Anyway. What are you fighting with right now?”
“Could you flip on your ear?” he asked. That was a clear cue that he was going to dive right into the engine block with me, where he knew he wouldn’t be able to look at me while we talked.
I pulled out my phone, opened the speech-to-text app, and pulled a pair of glasses from my pocket. They were similar to the old idea of Google Glass but with upgraded tech. I didn’t wear them much, because there was still this weird lingering distrust of a pair of eyeglasses that were hooked directly to an app. But when there was no practical way to keep my phone within sight, like while I was under the hood of a car, the glasses worked amazingly well. As an added bonus, if he did decide that he wanted me to look at anything under the car, the glasses would help keep grit and whatever else from falling into my eyes.
Chesbro handed me a wrench and pointed at a stubborn bolt he’d been dealing with. I reached down, taking advantage of the fact that my six inches of height on him gave me just a touch more reach, and got the socket seated. “Got it,” I said.
“Great. Now, could you loosen it?” Displayed on the glasses, hovering over the car’s engine. Right below it, I got an email notification from Ashley. After we separated, she had stopped emailing me, so I never got around to dropping the priority on messages from her so they wouldn’t break through when I was using the glasses.
“Mail, dismiss,” I said.
“Huh?” Chesbro asked.
“Nothing. Some spam broke through into my ear. Consider yourself lucky.”
“That stuff gets you everywhere, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Couldn’t get away from it if I tried,” I said, because I was open about my deafness. I kinda felt proud about talking to others here. They didn’t treat me as if I was a leper, like they did in NY. The opposite. They were amazed about the technology and wanted to know more about how it all worked. With one good grunt, I managed to unstick the bolt.
“Woo. I heard that!” Chesbro said. “Just loosen her up a bit. Don’t take it all the way out. There are three more on that side. Do you see them?”
It was midafternoon when we finally made one last check for stray tools and closed the hood on Chesbro’s kit car.
“Maybe one more week, and we can get the engine fired up again,” he said, this time directly to me. With the work done, we could dispense with the electronic aids. “You were a world of help today. Canned beer good enough for you, or do I need to find a place pouring Bordeaux?”
“As long as it’s cold and they’ve got a place for Boy, I’ll drink anything.”
“Dunn’s has a grass smoking patio with picnic tables. Sun’s still up for a bit, so it’ll be warm for a little while yet.”
“Sounds good,” I said, heading over to the garage’s shop sink to wash my hands before I went to get Boy. On my first visit to the garage, they’d rigged up a little run for him between a couple of trees. He was lying down on the cool grass, just watching the world go by, without a care in the world, and no more did I feel bad for leaving him for most of the morning and afternoon.
“I’ll meet you down there,” I said to Chesbro as I switched Boy over to his leash.
“Tell ‘em to put it on my tab,” he said, stowing the last of his tools before going to wash up himself.
On the walk over, I let curiosity get the better of me and checked my phone. There were at least a dozen messages that had come in since I left the cottage, but only Ashley’s had high enough priority to ping through to my glasses. The first thing I did, before reading her message, was downgrade her to lowest priority. I didn’t want any more unpleasant surprises when I was trying to have a good day.
Only then did I check to see what she had to say to me.
The title of the message was a simple “Grandma Norton.”
I took a steadying breath and put a hand on Boy’s back and opened the message.
Noah,
I hate to bother you. I know it’s got to be hard to hear from me. For what it’s worth, it has been weighing on me what I lost and if things had been different, where we’d be right now. I could understand if you’re mad at me for getting in touch.
I deserve it.
I just had some news that I thought you’d still want to know. Last week, Grandma Norton took a bad fall, and she hit her head on a table on the way down. Her housekeeper was out, and Grandma was knocked unconscious, because she didn’t activate her alarm for help. I guess the details aren’t important right now, but she didn’t regain consciousness and passed early this morning.
She still missed you and never stopped asking after you. I thought the end of our relationship lowered her opinion of me. I know you two were always very fond of each other, and I felt you deserved to know.
If you’d like to come down for the funeral, let me know. I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve made the arrangements, and I promise I will give you as much space as you need. I make this offer out of respect for your relationship with her, which is more important than anything that happened between you and me.
Ashley
I had to stop and lean against the side of the building. There was no way I could walk after reading that. Ashley was right that Lucy and I had been very close. The loss of Lucy was one of the hardest parts of my breakup with Ashley. While I was angry at her, and I missed what I thought we had and our potential, Ashley burned her bridges. Lucy and I didn’t do wrong by each other. Our relationship was an innocent victim of Ashley.
I thought of her often, even in Berwick, like my first exploration of the town center when I passed the place smoking brisket. It brought me right back to South Carolina, and Lucy gave me a sly wink while she put a little extra splash of gin in my drink. Lucy was the very picture of the proper Southern matriarch—fastidious, iron-willed, and wise. There was no doubt in my mind that I had to pay my respects.
I saw Chesbro waving at me.
“Hey, buddy. Everything all right?” he said once I was looking at him.
“Yeah. Um. Bad news about an old friend. I may have to leave town for a few days.”
“Want a rain check on that beer, or do you really need it now?”
“I could really use a drink now,” I said. “Yeah, being alone isn’t a good thing right now. I just lost a dear friend. I suppose I could do with the company.”
“Something stronger than beer, I imagine? So you can forget?” he asked.
“How about a double gin and tonic? But not to forget, only to remember everything about her.” I didn’t go into details, but my incident had left so many damn gaps. I did remember some things about Lucy but not all. Maybe getting drunk or slightly tipsy would put my memory in the right direction.
“You’ve earned way more than that today. Let’s go.”
◆◆◆
I stuck with just the one drink, because for some reason, I just kept blocking out the idea of having more than one. I wondered what, made
me feel that way. I started getting paranoid, wondering if I was a recovering alcoholic. I took a leisurely walk back to the cottage. Once I got Boy settled in, I sat down in the living room and picked up my phone. I read Ashley’s email again then dialed a different number.
“Hello?” displayed on my phone screen.
“Amy. It’s Noah.”
“Noah…are you okay?” She hesitated as she asked but then stopped by asking if I was okay.
I didn’t beat around the bush. I got to the point of my call.
“I got some unexpected news today. I will be flying out to South Carolina later this week. I don’t know exactly when.”
“Oh, no. What’s going on?” she asked.
“Noah?” appeared on my screen.
“Sorry, Amy. I probably should have waited a little bit before I called you. I’m still in shock about the whole thing.”
“If you’re moving out, I’m not mad. I’ll miss you, but if you have to leave, I’m not going to tie you to the cottage, or maybe we can figure that out tomorrow. I can come around then if you like, and we can discuss it,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I’m not bailing on you. I’ll only be gone for a few days. I have a funeral to attend. I just found out about it an hour ago. Details are still pending.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Yet again, I hated the fact that I couldn’t hear. I wanted nothing more than to hear Amy’s voice, to know what she sounded like.
“Were you close?” appeared on the screen.
“Until a few months ago, yes. It’s a long story.” I sighed, which seemed to be the story of my life lately.
“I do have all the time in the world, if you need someone to talk to,” she offered.