Package Deal

by Chris Chegri

  Jill’s remark hurt Kelly, and an awkward silence hung between them. Saved by the oven timer’s buzz, Kelly jumped up, removed the tarts and slid them onto a plate. She set the plate in front of Jill, accepting her friend’s opinion, but not liking it. Maybe Jill was right. Her own thoughts were unstable, constantly changing, and now her conscience wrestled with her responsibilities to Lacy and her memories of Robby. She sat silent for a long moment, rubbing her forehead, thinking.

  Around them—despite the chaos and clutter—soft music from the TV mingled with the scent of freshly baked pastry. Kelly knew Jill was right about Robby. Her brother had been the love and support in her life. When he died, her grief had turned to anger. She blamed him for leaving her alone, like her father had, like Ken had. She convinced herself men were more trouble than they were worth. In stark contradiction, she often envisioned her daughter someday happily married.

  An earth shattering thought struck her. If she genuinely believed men would always let her down, how could Lacy grow up not seeing it and believing it, too? Lacy might never be willing to take a chance on marriage—like her mother.

  Kelly burst into tears. “What am I doing to my daughter?” She plucked another tissue from the box in front of Jill. Giving her head a shake, she dabbed at her tears then swallowed some tea. She didn’t blame Jill for her observations, and it wasn’t the first time something Jill said had forced her to probe her feelings a little deeper. When it came to her own affairs, Jill was flaky, but she seemed to possess uncanny insight into other people’s lives.

  While Jill sat speechless, Kelly struggled to bring some clarity to her own muddled thoughts. Did she really believe all men were bums, or was she afraid there was something wrong with herself? Why was she still wallowing in pain and self-pity? Was she taking the easy, risk-free way through life? Even she wasn’t sure anymore.

  “I’ll think about it. You’re right about one thing. Lacy does deserve a fair chance, and I don’t want to rob her of anything I’ll regret later.” She dropped her head to her hands. Better find out what your true feelings are, Kelly. Better find out soon. For Lacy’s sake.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kelly knelt beside the marble headstone, a slow California drizzle wrapping her in a gray veil. She reached out and pressed her palm against the slick stone, an image of her younger brother’s mischievous face forming in her mind. The granite lay cold and wet beneath her hand. Grief swelled in her chest, and her bottom lip trembled. Saying goodbye to Robby was the toughest thing she would ever do.

  She and Robby had been glued at the hip throughout their tumultuous childhoods. He’d been her crutch after Ken’s big walkout. When Lacy was born, he had even stood in for Ken in the delivery room. An uncomfortable lump formed in Kelly’s throat. He’d been her constant for as long as he had lived. Now, he was gone and she needed him more than ever.

  “Robby,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the pain. “You little jerk!”

  He’d gotten himself killed in a car accident two years ago. God, she missed him. She’d counted on him to be there always, then poof! He was gone, leaving a hole in her life the size of the Grand Canyon.

  Kelly squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the vivid past. Jill had been right. She didn’t think she would ever forgive Robby for dropping out on her so suddenly. Grief consumed her, the pain so terrible she could barely breathe.

  Tears mingled with raindrops, and she wiped her eyes.

  “Where are you when I need you, little brother?” Her love for Robby tugged at her heart and she gave in to a smile. “I miss you, ya brat.”

  She hadn’t finished packing but knew she could never leave San Francisco without saying goodbye to him. Lacy was back at the apartment with Jill. Good old Jill, she mused. Ever dependable.

  “I’ve got to go, Robby. I’ve got a new job in Florida.”

  She glanced around, feeling self-conscious, as always, when talking to Robby’s headstone. “Lacy is great, but she misses you, too. She’s excited about living near the ocean. I told her all about Florida, and now she calls it the ‘warm’ ocean, as opposed to our ‘cold’ ocean here.” She gave a tight little laugh. “I know she’ll love it. We’re all just a bunch of beach bums at heart, don’t you think?” She laughed softly again.

  Her grip tightened on the granite marker. “I’m a little scared, Robby.” The words dragged across her tongue. It wasn’t easy to admit her fears, to admit her vulnerability. “New place, new job. Bet you’d love it! I know you’re laughing at me. You’re probably saying, ‘What? Kelly the fearless—scared?’” She hoped he might be listening from the other side. “Maybe scared is the wrong word. Nervous, worried—lonely. I’m leaving everything I know behind, including you.” Her throat tightened. She took a deep breath.

  “You know me. I’m a little awkward with new things. Not like you.” She rubbed her hand across the stone with affection. “You could have charmed the pants off Cleopatra.” Robby had always been able to smooth talk her. He could wrangle most anything from her, and she knew it.

  Kelly rocked back on her heels. Her knees were soaked, but she didn’t care. She was tired and achy from packing, and found the cool rain, drenching her clothes and face, refreshing.

  “Mom will be closer. She can fly down more often and see us.” Her words were weighted with unresolved feelings about their mother. She picked nervously at the thin gold bracelet around her wrist.

  “You know Mom. Forever in denial. It was always easier for her to pretend everything was fine, even when it wasn’t. You know she never even cried when you died. Not in front of me, anyway. I love her, but sometimes she’s such a pod person.”

  When they were kids, a nineteen-seventies remake of the movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, had been their favorite scary movie. In the movie, pods from outer space cloned and took over earthlings, leaving emotionless look-a-likes in their place. Pod people.

  “I just wanted to scream at her, make her tell me how she really felt.”

  Her parents had divorced when she was seven, Robby had been almost four. Shortly after, her father remarried, starting a second family, which demanded more and more of his time. His weekends with Kelly and Robby dwindled to token phone calls at Christmas and birthdays, until he had abandoned them altogether. Her mother changed, showing little emotion. Kelly called it denial.

  Kelly lifted her gaze to the gray sky and frowned into the rain, her heart burning with a painful understanding. She was just like her mother. She’d spent years filled with expectation, hoping her father would call, ask to see her, or send a small gift. Ultimately, she’d had to face the disappointment. He wasn’t calling, visiting or sending anything. She’d been devastated, and now Kelly realized her mother had been devastated, too. Kelly and Robby had each other, while their mother had been brokenhearted and alone. Kelly fell silent, all comfort her mother’s closer proximity had given her vanished, replaced by guilt. Maybe, understanding this, she and her mother could be closer now. It would be up to Kelly to make amends and bring them together again as a family.

  “I wish you could go with me. There isn’t anyone who listens to me the way you do.” She realized how silly she must look. “I’m probably the only person in the world sitting around talking to a piece of granite.”

  As if Robby had answered, she said, “Oh, Jill’s pretty receptive. She’s square with me the same way you were, but I’m leaving her behind, too.” Jill’s lecture the night before still rattled around in Kelly’s head, leaving her more confused than she already was.

  She gazed past the dark clouds. Her throat tightened, and she gritted her teeth, missing her brother, needing him, and fighting back her tears. Despite her efforts, teardrops poured over her cheeks and left her sobbing.

  “Robby, I’m so sorry I blamed you for dying. I’ve been so selfish. But you were all I had left. I know I’ve blamed you for dying, never thinking how terrible it was for you. But being left alone, losing you—” She sobbed, unable to continue. “O
h God, I miss you so much.” She wept until she started coughing, choking on the tears, rainwater running into her mouth. Looking away from the headstone, she pulled herself together and wiped her runny nose with one hand, the hard rain washing it clean.

  “You know…” she started again, “Mom clammed up. She packed all your pictures away, all your stuff, and if I even mentioned you, she’d change the subject and start babbling about what she’d just crocheted or some nonsense.”

  She wiped away her tears and stared at the inscription on the cold granite headstone. She read it again, feeling the familiar ache inside.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” She drew herself up, startling a sparrow sitting in the wet grass behind her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Kelly crossed the cemetery lawn, her heels squishing into the soggy ground. At the car, she opened the door, reached in and grabbed a bouquet of flowers she’d purchased from a street vendor. She slammed the door and hurried back to Robby’s grave.

  Fanning the flowers across the headstone, she said, “I got these for you.” She swallowed hard, closing her eyes against the sting of fresh tears. “I love you, Robby. After a few more moments of silence she whispered, “I need to go. I’ll see ya around, little brother.”

  When she straightened, she spotted a chip of granite from one corner of the headstone, half concealed by the brown winter grass. She stooped and retrieved the stone, rolling it over in her palm. Clenched in her fist, the jagged edge cut into the soft cushion of her palm. She winced, feeling oddly consoled and less alone. She tucked the granite chip in her pocket then with reluctance, dragged herself from Robby’s headstone and hurried back to her car.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The words “road trip” took on new meaning for Kelly. In her youth, during college, when it wasn’t unusual for humans of superior intelligence to suffer from symptoms of extreme insanity, she’d thought nothing of jumping in the car and driving for two days for a beer in Mexico or a ferry ride across Seattle’s Puget Sound. After driving from California to Florida, her enthusiasm for road trips ended.

  The last week had been grueling. Her Bon Voyage party had taken place Sunday night at the apartment. Packing to that point had progressed at a snail’s pace, and she couldn’t spare the time away from the apartment. Fortunately, several loyal friends had shown up to help. Unfortunately, Kelly had woken up with a hangover the next morning. Armed with aspirin, orange juice, and an ice pack strapped to her throbbing head, she’d completed the packing late Monday night. Tuesday afternoon, after the movers left and the apartment was clean, her hangover had disappeared. Go figure.

  She’d crammed the car with the leftover stuff no one knew what to do with—small boxes full of questionable necessities, trash bags stretched with clothing yanked from the closets, house plants, puzzles and games for Lacy, pillows, an old comforter, and last but not least, Skunk, the beloved pet rat. Finished at last, there’d been just enough space left in the car for her and Lacy.

  The cross-country drive took them five days, one fuel pump, and part of Kelly’s leather checkbook, which Skunk had feasted on during an escapade through her purse. Now, Monday morning, Kelly’s energy reserves were depleted.

  “Never again,” she swore out loud, turning right at Granada. “The next time I move, I’m torching the house and selling the car.” She glanced at Lacy, who dozed in the seat next to her. Good God, I’m even talking to myself.

  They had spent the night at The Glades, settled the bill this morning, and dropped Skunk off at the house on Cabana Court. Even empty, the little cinder block house looked as good to Kelly as it did the day she’d signed the lease. Home at last.

  Their furniture wasn’t due to arrive until sometime after five today, and Lacy had been reluctant to leave her pet, afraid the rat would be bored in the empty house. Kelly assured her one day with a lid on his tank wouldn’t hurt the rat. Skunk might even enjoy the quiet and sleep all day, and when Lacy got home, he would be rested and ready to play. Silly as it sounded, her explanation had worked, and Lacy voiced some excitement about her first day at the new school, making new friends of the human type.

  Kelly dropped Lacy off at school, made a stop at the donut shop, then merged into the traffic flow. Ted Willis expected her at the paper this morning, and she wasn’t going to disappoint him twice. She’d left thirty minutes early, determined to arrive on time—even if it meant taking catnaps in the ladies’ room and holding her eyelids open with paper clips the rest of the day.

  She groped around on the seat for the bag of warm donut holes and stuffed one in her mouth, washing it down with a slug of coffee from her travel mug. Once over the bridge, she decided to take the river road for a few miles. She had plenty of time to get to work.

  She cruised along, enjoying the colors and sounds of her new surroundings, inhaling the gentle morning breeze through the open window. On her left, the intercoastal waterway meandered toward the sea, its smooth surface mirroring the vibrant blue sky above. Mullet leapt from the water in their ritual dance, rippling the surface, then plunging back into the current.

  Her mind drifted with the flow of the lazy current. It was the first time in weeks she had relaxed, until something thumped beneath the car’s rear wheel, yanking her attention back to the pavement with a surge of adrenaline.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing nothing in the road behind her to cause alarm. Maybe an orange or a pinecone. Returning her attention to the lane ahead, she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. Powdered sugar coated her upper lip. She laughed and wiped it clean with the back of her hand, thinking how embarrassed she would have been if she had strolled into work with a white mustache.

  Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into the News Journal’s lot and slipped into a parking spot. She killed the engine, got out, hit the door lock and closed the door. Immediately she glanced down at her empty hands.

  “Oh, no,” she moaned. She peered through the car window. Yep, there they were, car keys dangling from the ignition. “I don’t believe this!”

  Unable to scare up enough energy to care, she shrugged. What would worrying get her anyway? The car wasn’t going anywhere. She cut across the parking lot, entered the building and headed upstairs, knowing it would be one of those days.

  When she reached the newsroom, one of the reporters looked up from his computer. Waldo, wasn’t it? He even looked like a Waldo, not a compliment by any stretch. He might have been a prime date candidate for Kelly—if she dated. A non-threatening type, Waldo was intelligent and had exhibited an interesting sense of humor when they’d talked before she’d flown back to San Francisco. All in all, he seemed nice, might even end up her friend. Just the way Kelly preferred it.

  “Hi, Kelly. Welcome back to civilization,” he greeted her.

  “I think you’ve got it mixed up.” She flashed him a weary smile and crossed to her desk, slipping her purse strap over the back of the chair. “I just left civilization to move here.”

  “Oh, a big city snob,” he teased. “How was the trip?”

  “Well, if you’re fond of kids, rats, and old cars, and firmly believe suffering heals the soul, then the trip was a great success.”

  He suppressed a chuckle. “That bad, huh? You do look a bit crumpled at the corners.”

  She gave him a second glance. He’s a fine one to talk. His shirt was in dire need of ironing, and the fingerprints on his glasses were so thick it was a wonder he could see the computer monitor.

  “Watch out. I’m feeling cranky,” she warned. “I just locked my keys in the car.” She dropped into her chair. “I thought the trip would never end. Looks like today might not be much of an improvement. I swear I’m taking a bus next time.”

  “Next time?” He raised one eyebrow in question. “Where are you going now?”

  “Nowhere. But when I do, I’m taking a bus.”

  “What about your keys?”

  “They’ll be there when I get ready to leave. I’ll figure out what to do the
n.”

  “Okay,” he said, rolling his chair across the aisle separating their desks. “Don’t worry about it—”

  “Not worried.” She cut him off. “I’m too tired to care right now.”

  He grinned, revealing an overbite. “I was just going to tell you it happens all the time around here. Call maintenance. They’ll open the car in a jiffy.”

  He didn’t just say “in a jiffy” did he?My grandmother used to say “in a jiffy,” and he doesn’t look much older than me. She fought a grin. “Thanks for the insider information.”

  Kelly stayed busy until early afternoon, poring over the newspaper’s archives and searching the Internet for information on the endangered manatee. She wasn’t surprised to find they looked nothing like cows, but rather a tusk-less walrus. Packing up her things, she signed off the computer, and went to look for the maintenance department where she found an elderly gentleman willing to help her. Armed with a coat hanger, he unlocked her car door with ease.

  She headed for the local library, somewhere fewer people bothered to go nowadays due to the Internet. As a journalist, she spent long hours, every day, in front of a computer monitor. Kelly loved libraries, loved the quiet stillness synonymous with “library.” Today she hoped to enjoy a bit of that peace and quiet—compared to the newsroom—and find some archived magazines with photos of manatees. By three-thirty, content with the knowledge she’d accumulated, she left the library and picked Lacy up from school. After a quick stop at the grocery store for supplies to fuel their stomachs and fill the empty refrigerator, they grabbed hamburgers at Steak ‘n’ Shake, a local burger place. They ate in the living room, watching reruns, unfortunately the only thing on TV without cable. She made a mental note to call the cable company in the morning to get the Disney Channel turned on.