The Opposite of Never

by Mary Kathleen Mehuron

  Zelda started to sniffle again, but her counselor’s face remained impassive. “There are plenty of addicts who would give anything for a chance like this. There are also many who aren’t going to make it, no matter what is offered to them. It’s important you are ready to receive this gift. I hope one day you’ll see how much your mother and stepfather tried to help you make some happiness for yourself. I want you to go to California with the best and most serious of intentions.”

  Kenny flew out once a month for family day. Zelda smiled widely when she saw him, and he tried not to wince at her cracked, blackened teeth. She had already applied to a halfway house back home in Montpelier, Vermont, and had begun looking for jobs online. As he promised, after she completed her three-month program, Kenny took her to see a cosmetic dentist. It would take twelve weeks to fix and whiten her smile. Since it was a requirement of the program that she be employed, Kenny helped her find a job stocking shelves at a chain store. After three months, when she could smile again with confidence, she secured better work a short walk from her apartment at a funky jewelry store. The shop was deceptive in that while it exuded “low key and casual,” the prices were anything but. Zelda was paid by the hour and also got commissions from the pieces she sold. She quickly learned about semi-precious stones, gold, and silver and became the store’s highest grossing salesperson.

  While it was obvious that she had talents, she was still self-destructive. She met her new boyfriend, Larry, at a Narcotics Anonymous meeting and was smitten with his irreverence and sense of humor, as well as the edge of danger that emanated from him. He blamed everyone else for the trouble he got into, loudly proclaiming that he was misunderstood and unlucky. He constantly challenged her loyalty to him, often embarrassing her in public with his volatile jealously. In bed one night he whispered to her, “I want you to prove that there’s no one else in your life.”

  “How would I do that?”

  “Why do we always have to use a condom? If I’m the only one, what are you so worried about? There are times of the month when it’s okay. My ex-wife called it the rhythm method. I mean, you just got over your period, so it’s safe.”

  Zelda knew he had a child from his marriage whom he rarely saw, but instead of drugs, she was now addicted to Larry’s approval. His happiness was far more important to her than her own. She didn’t even check out his idea on the Internet or ask any of her friends about it.

  She allowed him to have unprotected intercourse, and a week later she bought a home pregnancy test that proved positive.

  Ten

  “Difficulties strengthen the mind, as labor does the body.”

  —Seneca

  Linda boldly declared, “I’m going to throw a Fourth of July creative-fun-formal dinner party this summer. Help me think this through.”

  Georgia, Linda, Kenny, and Yvonne were scaling a practically sheer cliff. They had reached a point on a steep trail where they had to pull themselves up on bald rock outcrops. They weren’t far from a fire tower, which they planned to climb and take pictures from the top of. The group had gotten into the habit of posting their adventures online. Their friends got a kick out of each exploit, and this had encouraged them to try different and more difficult hikes.

  “You are going to have to give me more details about this party, Linda. How would it work?” Yvonne asked carefully, as she was currently dealing with a pain in her right hip.

  “For example, I could dress up as Martha Washington. I’d probably shop around thrift stores for a prom dress, but make a pinafore out of an American flag. See? Creative formal but bring in a character relevant to the founding fathers.”

  Kenny never ceased to be surprised where the women’s conversations led. “This sounds complicated, girls. I don’t know if I really understand the concept. Wait, doesn’t Abraham Lincoln already wear a kind of tuxedo? Can I just come as Lincoln and call it even?”

  “Sure, that would work. Kenny, I want to say something to you. I know the six of us have been spending a lot of time together, but if you ever want to bring someone, a friend, a date, whatever, please don’t stand on ceremony. Just tell us. Oh . . . and . . . you too, Georgia.”

  Georgia bristled at the idea. “No thanks, I’m good. I’ve already told you many times—never again.” She snapped her fingers and pointed at Linda. “Back to the party. I’m going to insist you decide between fun-formal or a historical figure. Otherwise, I will wind up looking like a colonial lady of the night or Mary-Todd-Lincoln-on-the-red-carpet. Unless I’m allowed to come as a colonial tart; I think I could pull that off.”

  Memories of losing Sharon flooded Kenny’s mind. “It’s too soon for Georgia to have to think about a date. It’s only been eight months since her husband died. There’s so much to process after you lose a spouse. I think it took me a year just to get paperwork in order and go through Sharon’s things. Everything I saw reminded me of her, and it was devastating.”

  Georgia plopped down on the rock ledge. It was almost as if she’d collapsed. Linda clearly saw she was crying, and she was shocked and appalled by her own insensitivity. “Georgia, I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Of course, it’s too soon. Please forgive me.”

  Georgia began to shake her head back and forth with one hand on each temple. “No. It’s not the idea of the party. It’s not about dating or not dating. No.” She gulped in ragged breaths and exhaled in wails. Her three friends were horrified. They had no idea how to help her. Finally, she admitted, “I’m afraid I may lose my house.”

  Yvonne was shocked. “Your house?” She looked around to Linda and Kenny with a wide-eyed look that conveyed an animated message: Is Georgia deranged? Has grief driven her barking mad? She asked her a question as if she were speaking to a child. “Why would you lose your house? Jack was an accountant. He was our accountant. He was adamant about life insurance and savings. Plus, you have your teaching pension and benefits.”

  Although it was a struggle for her to tell her story, Georgia did. “When I turned fifty-five, I had served thirty-three years of public school teaching. That was three years ago. You remember the school board had a great incentive plan to get older teachers to retire because younger teachers are cheaper, and the state was backing them up with funding. Jack was gung ho when he read the details, especially when I got the part-time job at the ski academy. He said we would be fine. Those were his exact words, ‘Just fine.’ For months now, I’ve been meeting with our financial advisor, Jack’s old business partner in the accounting firm, and our attorney. They all say the same thing. I’m only fifty-eight, and in order to have enough cushion going into old age, I have to downsize. Quite a bit. And reduce my monthly expenses.”

  They all stood on the outcrop in silence listening to Georgia hiccup uncontrollably. Linda’s mouth was wide open before she burst into tears. “It must be hard enough grieving. To add to it that you have to move out of the home where you raised your family; I’m sure it’s heartbreaking.”

  None of them had ever seen Georgia like she was at this moment. Most of the time, she went around with a smile on her face, even after Jack’s death, and when friends tried to console her, she wound up taking care of them. She had an optimistic nature and a gift for carrying on. At that moment, though, she was sobbing in distress like a toddler. Unaddressed snot hung down from her nostrils. She didn’t even wipe at the tears that were streaming out of her eyes and down her face and neck. Dolly Parton was worried and circled about nervously trying to lick her. She pushed the dog away in annoyance, which was a rare occurrence for Georgia.

  Kenny felt compelled to do something. He squatted, embraced Dolly, and began to pet her. “It’s all right, girl. Your mom’s upset. It’s all right.”

  The others looked on in silence until Georgia’s gasps and hiccups slowed down. It was then Kenny inquired, “Would you like a drink of water? How about my bandana? It’s clean.”

  Georgia reached out and accepted the folded cloth. “Thank you, I’ll take it. No water, though. Maybe if
I get dehydrated enough, I’ll run out of tears.” They all laughed, as she knew they would. “It probably never occurred to Jack that he wouldn’t live forever. He probably planned to work until he was ninety. Most likely, his financial plan included his ongoing income. The reality is I have to make some big changes. I’m scared and I’m pissed off at my daughter, Margot, too. She’s asked me three times if she can expect to inherit more money because her father died.” Georgia wrapped the bandana across her face and around her eyes as she sobbed. “Can you believe my own daughter questioning me? ‘Are you sure he left everything to you?’ Three times she asked me. I told her, ‘He left you children the camp in the Northeast Kingdom. Of course, he left everything else to me. It’s our money. We spent almost forty years earning it.’ She thinks I’m Money-Bags McGee because he left some life insurance. I mean, we both paid for the life insurance. She seems to forget I’ve been a teacher for thirty-five years. All Margot cares about is inheriting some cash to put a down payment on a house, which is exactly what I need my money for.”

  Linda slipped her backpack off her shoulders. She reached into her magic bag of tricks and handed some wipes to Georgia, who mopped her neck and hands with them. It took the entire pack to clean herself up. Finally, her friends looked on as she physically shook the problem off. “Okay. That’s enough whining. There are plenty of people in the world who don’t even have a roof over their heads. It’s not like I’m going to go hungry. We have to reframe what’s going on. Instead of saying, ‘I’m losing my house,’ I am going to say, ‘I’m shopping for a new house.’ Right? It’s a chance to purge all the stuff we’ve accumulated over the years. It will be a huge feng shui effort; I’ll be creating a new space so I can invite my new life in. How’s that?”

  They all stared at her and then away at the ground by her feet. Her group of friends was honestly speechless, and Georgia hated that they pitied her. She jumped to a standing position and mustered her courage. “I am going to climb that G.D. fire tower if it kills me. It’s me against the world. If I make it to the top, everything will turn out great. I’ll race you!”

  With that, Georgia scrambled up the rocks like she was twenty. Her friends took off after her, and by the time they reached the top step of the tower, they were hysterical with laughter and all a bit slaphappy from the emotions leading up to their sprint.

  There was a platform at the very top with three graduated levels of railings. When they sat down on it, their legs dangled over the side. The lowest railing was in the perfect position to serve as an armrest, so they all propped their elbows up on it. The wind howled at this high elevation. Each of them took photographs in a full circle around them as they tried to name every peak, lake, and river in the distance. The whipping wind grew downright chilly as it roared around them with almost deafening power.

  Yet, Linda yelled out loud enough for everyone to hear, “I declare Georgia Best to be the Princess Warrior of the Fire Tower. Thus, having scaled Bald Mountain and then also conquered the tower’s majestic height, we, her loyal subjects, do avow that she shall conquer all!” Her friends applauded so long that Georgia felt compelled to stand up and take a deep and dramatic bow, although her attempt was flawed by the fact that the tower was swaying a bit, and in mid-curtsy she also felt the need to hang on for dear life.

  When they went down the hundred steps to the base of the tower, Linda said, “I can’t believe how much warmer it is down here.”

  Kenny quickly added, “Or that there is barely a breeze.”

  The Forest Service had provided a picnic table in a clearing, and the four of them put their backpacks on top of it and began to forage inside. All members of the group had water bottles, but the food they brought with them varied. Yvonne produced a thick plastic plate with a cover that snapped off. “Yummm. I am starving. Leftovers from dinner last night.”

  Linda looked up from her bag of trail mix and glanced over. “What have you got there?”

  “Sliced chicken, pasta, and a little salad.”

  Georgia clearly approved of her sumptuous meal. “What a feast. I stuffed sliced turkey in a piece of bread. Still it tastes good. What did you bring, Kenny?”

  “P.B. and J. It always works for a hike.”

  They munched in near silence, enjoying the low humidity and golden sunlight. When they finished their little al fresco meal, they stretched out before they heaved their packs back onto their shoulders. As the group descended the mountain that day, Yvonne asked, “Georgia, I want you to tell us one thing we can do to help you. One thing.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, really. It will make me feel better to take some action that might spare you a bit of the pain you must be feeling.”

  “The first thing that jumps to mind is that Jack always had the firewood stacked by now so it could dry out and season all summer and early fall. You know, we count on the living room woodstove as an important part of our winter heat. The problem is I don’t even know who to call to get it, and the idea of stacking five cords of wood undid me, so I’ve just procrastinated. I know it has to get done.”

  Yvonne jumped on that. “We’ll handle this. I’ll order it for you and have it delivered. We’ll have everyone choose between next Saturday or Sunday to come over and stack it together.”

  Georgia looked from Linda to Yvonne and finally to Kenny, “Are you sure?”

  She received a simultaneous chorus of answers.

  “Of course.”

  “Easy.”

  “Absolutely.”

  An impish look came across Linda’s face. “I’ll be sure to ask Margot to help, too. It’s time she understood her fifty-eight-year-old mother should not be hauling all those logs. It’s not like her mom can afford to hire out every chore either. She’s not Money-Bags McGee.”

  Georgia started to giggle, and it grew into a belly laugh. She had to sit down on a rock as wave after wave of silliness took hold of her. She adjusted the straps on her pack and set her shoulders as she stood up. One look at Linda set her off again, and she plopped down holding her sides. The hilarity spread to the others, and they leaned on the nearest tree until it passed. On that day, the way down the mountain took longer than the climb up.

  Eleven

  “The confession of evil works is the first beginning of good works.”

  —Saint Augustine

  It was morning, and Spencer was on the phone, a huge land map laid out in front of him on an architectural style desk.

  “Yes Mr. Boudoin, I’m looking at your land right now. I can see exactly the spot you are describing to me.” He frowned a little as he listened to the man on the other end of the line carefully. “You want me to recap the project again? In a nutshell, I am trying to create a system of trails where riders can take their horses and camp out for the night in really special locations. You folks have the country inn right next door to our farm. We have a huge horse barn, but we only keep three horses. I’ve got it in my head that between us we have two hundred acres, mostly going unused.” Spencer cocked his head a little and tucked the receiver in closer. “You may not realize it, but people from all over the country trailer their horses to destinations where they can explore on horseback. I envision a vacation package we could create that would include staying with you the night before the trail ride and the night they get back from it. So, you would have the room rates and meals, I’d have the rent for stalls and charge for the camping package. We can split a fee to use the trails. What do you think, sir?”

  His neighbor, Armand Boudoin, was worried about campfires that might spread and ignite forest fires. He told Spencer, “It’s been my experience that city people can be idiots.”

  “Not all city people, Mr. Boudoin, but I understand your concern. Even so, I think campfires are essential for an authentic experience. Here’s how we handle it. We set up the campsites for them. I can build a real fire pit that’s lined properly with stone and leave a stack of seasoned firewood.” He scratched his head while Armand respond
ed.

  “It sounds like a lot of work, Spencer. What else would you have to do?”

  “I’d plan to build a lean-to for shelter, and make it obvious where to tie the horses up for the night. Maybe we will ultimately decide to only do guided tours. Or they have to have a guided tour the first time, and once they learn the necessary camping skills and our standards to steward this land, repeat customers can go out alone the next time. I kind of like the sound of that from a marketing perspective. It’s a built-in incentive for repeat business. I want to start with two different sites on a trail loop. In a few years, if this goes well, we can talk to the Martins and see if they want to throw their forestland into our lot. This could be very low impact if we do it right, sir. Equestrian tourism is good money. You know how they say to do what you love? Well, Mr. Boudoin, I love to ride and to make cheese.”

  “I get that, Spencer. You’re good at both. What is it you need from me right now, son?”

  “I’m planning a camping trip for myself and a friend. We really have to get in there and explore the possible trails. I’d like to mark the way, if that’s all right. I’ve also got a guy who will take me up in a small plane next week. I’m going to take aerial photographs. After that’s completed, I’ll come over and show you what I’ve found out. Does that sound okay?”

  “Sure, go for it. That big white pine grove should be nice to ride through. There are old logging roads and snowmobile trails that might be a little worse for wear, but they’d be interesting to explore. I look forward to hearing all about it. Have fun, Spencer. When will you be camping? Just in case I see smoke, I won’t worry.”

  “I’m hoping to leave Friday afternoon and be up there all day Saturday. We’ll probably come back down off the mountain midday Sunday.”

  “You take care of yourself and that nice-looking gal of yours.”