The Opposite of Never

by Mary Kathleen Mehuron

  Later, when they sat in front of a different desk at the real estate office, Georgia said, “Margot is going to offer less than asking price. We’d like to know how invested you are in making this sale happen. Would you consider reducing your commission?”

  At the attorney’s office Georgia said, “As far as the legal end of this deal goes, we need a pretty firm estimate of your fees and I am personally asking you to lower your hourly rate. If you can give us other suggestions to save, we would love to hear them. Either we all pitch in or this deal never gets off the ground.”

  Each of the parties was willing to discuss possible concessions, and that moved them in the right direction. Georgia helped Margot cobble together a package that saved her eight thousand dollars. Afterwards mother and daughter jumped up and down hugging and screaming with excitement. When she got home that day Georgia sat at her desk and wrote a two thousand dollar check for each of her three children as house warming gifts.

  Margot invited her mother to the real estate closing in the conference room of their bank. Georgia gave her the gift of a bound ledger. With a calligraphy pen, Georgia had written in all the categories of Margot’s budget for each month. She filled up twenty-four pages representing a calendar year, and she left room for unexpected costs. After the year was up, Georgia had full faith her child would know how to handle her finances. Margot had lived in the condo for two months now, and the living space was really taking shape.

  Georgia could tell that Margot’s heart skipped a beat when Kenny volunteered to hang her chandelier in her dining area. He and her sons were due at the condo at nine o’clock that morning.

  Margot made a big pot of coffee and put out bagels, cream cheese, butter, plates, and napkins. Having some of her parents’ things around her made Margot’s apartment feel more like a real home. Her mother and father had a local blacksmith make the light that hung over their dining room table her whole life. It was unique in that it had dimmable electric lights, but also six spaces around a wide metal wheel to put real candlesticks. She knew it would look great in her Tudor style building. When Margot heard a knock at her door, she opened it to find all three men standing on her threshold.

  “Thanks for coming. I’ve got coffee. How do you take it, Kenny? I won’t stand on ceremony with my brothers. You boys can fix your own.”

  The light fixture was on top of the dining room table. Margot had put a bath towel under it to protect the polished wood. Kenny carried his coffee mug over and carefully inspected it. He asked her, “Do all the light sockets on this work, Margot?”

  “Mom hired a handyman when she was getting the old house ready to put on the market. They all worked when he took it down and switched it out with an overhead light she bought at the hardware store.”

  “All right. Sebastian and Chris, let me show you what I am doing here. Just watch me, it isn’t hard, but you want to work carefully. The next thing that I need to know is where your breaker box is, Margot. Boys, obviously I’m going to turn off the electricity before I touch anything.”

  She showed him to a closet in the back of her kitchen.

  Christopher called to his sister, “Margot, the hanging light that’s up there now isn’t bad. Can we take it for our house?”

  As she reentered the room, she said, “Have at it. I would have just thrown it away anyhow.”

  Kenny came back in, looked up at the plaster ceiling, and removed his shoes. “Boys, help me move the table up against the wall. I have to get under this thing at a good angle.” He carefully placed a chair and stepped up on it. “Usually, these overhead lights have knobs with the screws attached. Christopher, will you take this glass globe? Now, I use a pencil, because it’s made of wood and won’t conduct electricity. So I use it to pull on the wiring till I can see what we are working with. See these two plastic caps? They are often different colors, meaning a positive and negative flow of electricity. First, I remove the caps—see how they put the rubbery black electrical tape over it? I’m going to remove the tape. The copper ends of the wire are wrapped around each other. I’m going step down and let you both have a look at this. We’re going to do the same thing with the new light.”

  Sebastian climbed up. “It looks pretty easy, I mean, it’s definitely not complicated.”

  Kenny agreed. “Just remember it has to last for years. Do the job right the first time.”

  In a matter of minutes, they were standing around the dining room table admiring the new–old chandelier. Sebastian told his sister, “You were right Margot, it’s perfect in here.”

  Kenny asked them, “Are we ready for the big reveal? I’m going to flip the breaker. Drum roll please.”

  To Kenny’s amusement, Christopher began to drum on the tabletop.

  “Hey, you’re pretty good, Chris.” He ducked into the kitchen closet to flip the breaker, but was back in a flash. “Margot, could you do the honors and turn on the light switch?” A little cheer went up from the four of them when it worked.

  Margot, whose friendly smile was already fading, went into her pantry closet and pulled out a toaster. She brought it over to the bagel station she had created and asked, “Who wants theirs toasted?” She helped them to assemble their plates to their liking and the four of them repositioned themselves around the table where they sat down to eat under the glow of the new chandelier. When they were all done with their breakfast, Kenny asked Margot to show him around, “Your mother said this was a nice condominium, and it really is. It’s a great setup. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Mom should have come over with you.” Margot murmured as she closely watched his reaction. She was testing him, as she suspected this man and her mother had been spending an awful lot of time together. While Margot appreciated Kenny’s help today, she wasn’t sure she was ready for her mother to have a boyfriend.

  “Oh? Well, I didn’t ask her to come. The boys and I are going to go over to their house now and get their wall sconces hung. Hey, Sebastian, Christopher, maybe we should stop and get some wire at the hardware store. If you guys think that the fixtures are from the fifties, we may want to rewire them before we put them up.”

  Margot was by nature tenacious and wanted more information. “You’ve been a real help at Mom’s house too, haven’t you, Kenny?”

  He shrugged. “I like doing this kind of work, and she helps me with my projects, as well.”

  “Helps you how?”

  Kenny sensed that he was being cross-examined, but he tried to play it cool. “I didn’t know what to do with my gardens. We got in there, and she showed me how to clean things out and what plants to cut way back.”

  Margot took note of the word we. “So, are you dating?”

  Her brothers blinked in disbelief at her question and rude tone.

  Kenny felt trapped. He knew Georgia wanted to keep their relationship private for a while longer, but he knew it was only a matter of time until someone close to them asked the question. In a split second, he struggled and tried to decide if he had anything to be embarrassed about. He was certain they had nothing to be ashamed of.

  “I don’t know what you would call it at our age. Dating sounds like something you do when you are a teenager. We got to be really good friends. We find ourselves spending more and more time together. We have fun. Last weekend we went down to Boston to see a concert. I haven’t done anything like that in years.”

  “You went away together?” Margot jumped on the idea of it. “You spent the weekend together? You’re sleeping together?”

  Christopher rescued Kenny from his sister’s wrath. “Margot, that’s none of your business! Back off. Jeez!”

  And Sebastian provided a way out of the door, “We’re done here. Thanks for breakfast, Margs. Let’s head to our house, the next job site.”

  The minute they pulled out of the driveway, Margot grabbed her car keys and headed to her mother’s.

  Thirty

  “The accidental reveals man.”

  —Pablo Picasso


  “Linda was included in the email this morning wasn’t she?” Georgia asked Yvonne.

  “I’m sure she was, and we said nine thirty. She confirmed she was coming right before I left the house.”

  “It’s not like her to be late.” Georgia and Yvonne were waiting in the parking area by Millhouse Pond. As best they could, given that they were wearing snowshoes, they perched on a boulder to pass some time and removed their poles from around their wrists.

  “So, how are the kids?” By kids, Georgia meant Spencer and Zelda, who had pretty much been living at Yvonne’s house.

  “They’re great. Staying busy. Planning for spring and all they want to get accomplished this year. But I have to tell you, Georgia, I’m not happy that they are talking about moving into their own place.”

  Georgia leaned over to adjust a strap on her binding but kept the conversation going as she did it. “That’s normal, isn’t it? For them to want a place of their own?”

  “Sure. They made sure to explain that very fact to me. They even teased me about not wanting to be alone at the farm, and I admit there’s some truth to it. The two of them have to be around during the day because it’s where they work, but that’s not the same as having company in the evenings when I would otherwise be alone. I can imagine how quiet it will be. Even when Rolland isn’t traveling or working, he gets on the phone and email right after dinner. But I’m mostly concerned that I don’t think they are strong enough yet. Either of them.”

  “Yvonne, you grew up on the farm across the street from the one where you live now. Maybe it’s hard for you to imagine your son wanting to live anywhere else.”

  “You know, Georgia, my parents’ acreage remains a separate lot that I still own . . . Oh.” Her eyes suddenly became huge. “Georgia, even though we had to tear down my family’s farmhouse, the building envelope is grandfathered into the town’s growth plan. We could build a house right where it used to stand, right across the street from our place . . . if we wanted to. I have to tell you that after the stupendous example you set putting up your new place, I don’t think it would be that hard.”

  “Really?” Georgia didn’t think that creating her home had been all that easy.

  Yvonne stared across the pond deep in thought. She pouted a little and said, “I’m torn by the fact they are so young. Maybe they aren’t ready to be tied down to being homeowners.”

  Georgia thought hard and finally said, “Then again, they’re mature beyond their years. Zelda and Spencer have both lived through some exceptional circumstances. Maybe they are ready. There’s only one way to find out; you’ll have to ask them both about it.”

  “Ask them what, specifically?”

  Georgia became aware that she was feeling protective toward Zelda. “Well, they are young, but I don’t think it would be fair to ask Zelda to invest herself into someone else’s home.”

  “I could transfer the title to Spencer.”

  “It would still be somebody else’s house and land—not hers.”

  “So you think . . .”

  “Maybe they should consider getting married. If not this year, then next. Or you could have all your ducks in a row about building for the day that they are ready for marriage.”

  “Well, first I have to be certain it would be possible to build there. I’m going to make some phone calls when I get home. This could be very exciting and a full circle moment for me. Can you imagine Spencer living in the exact place where my parents and grandparents did?”

  Georgia zipped her jacket up higher on her neck. “The idea gives me goose bumps. Wherever your mom is up in heaven, she’s thrilled by the notion. Hey, I’m getting cold. Where is Linda? We’ve been waiting for a half hour.”

  She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “At this point I’m worried. The roads are pretty slick with the fine snow that came down last night. Hop in my car and let’s drive out to Route 200; it’s the only way for her to get out here. I wish we got cell service on the pond. Nobody can believe I still have to have a landline phone.”

  Yvonne suggested, “We could walk over to your house and use it to call her.”

  “If she’s close to getting here, she won’t get any bars of service either.”

  Georgia and Yvonne removed their snowshoes and left them and their poles by the big rock that they were sitting on. They drove out Millhouse Pond Road toward the turn to town and waited for another ten minutes on the end of it, straining their necks to the left as they watched for a red station wagon.

  Finally, Yvonne broke their anxious silence, “Georgia, swing out and head toward the village. If she passes us going the other way, we’ll turn around.”

  There was a rise in the road about a half a mile down and when they reached the top, they were sickened by the sight of three sets of flashing lights in the distance.

  Yvonne gasped, “Do you see a red car? Can you make out what’s happening?”

  “They’ve stopped traffic. I’m going to pull in near the old farm stand and park there. We can walk down the side of the road and get closer.”

  From the vantage point of the stand, they could see two vehicles had collided, and one was red. Yvonne and Georgia jumped out of the car and started to run toward the accident but quickly encountered glare ice. They held on to each other to keep from sliding on the slippery surface as they picked their way along. It was slow going, and as they made progress little by little, Yvonne prayed aloud that the red car wasn’t an Audi. She slipped into an anxiety-produced, trance-like rosary: “Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Please don’t let this car be Linda’s. Please don’t let it be an Audi. Hail Mary full of grace . . .”

  A moan escaped from Georgia, “It could be hers; it’s a wagon.”

  “Please try not to jump to conclusions; there are a million red wagons on the road.” Yvonne quietly continued her prayer: “The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death . . .” She started to make gasping sounds.

  “Stop! You’re scaring me,” Georgia bleated. They crept along holding on to each other’s arms. Every so often, one of them took a step and slid, which wrenched her back or knees as she fought to remain upright. Georgia yelled, “Ouch! For gosh sake, this is ridiculous.” She pointed, “Look, look. The other vehicle is a dark blue truck. It looks like the work truck Rolland has. Yvonne!”

  “No. It’s not Rolland’s. It can’t be.” Yet the closer they got to the scene of the crash, the more apparent it became that Linda had crossed over the yellow line and hit Rolland head on.

  Once Yvonne was certain of the facts she started screaming as she tried to sprint. After two strides both her feet flew out from under her to the left, and she landed hard on her right hip, “That’s my husband. My husband!” She managed to stand up and took a few more steps before she slipped again and came crashing down on both knees. Though in obvious pain, Yvonne got up and continued to make her way along the side of the road. She had traveled about thirty feet when both her legs flew out again and she landed on her other hip. After catching her breath, she called back to Georgia, “I’m all right.”

  Eventually, with great effort, she made her way to a hospital stretcher by the blue truck while Georgia, holding her arms out in front of her, carefully shuffled over to a second one located by the red Audi.

  Yvonne and Georgia knew everyone in town on the volunteer ambulance squad. Currently, twelve of them were at the scene of the accident, and all assumed that the two women would ride with the patients in separate ambulances, Georgia with Linda and Yvonne with Rolland.

  The patients were loaded inside and the vehicles sped toward the hospital with their sirens blaring. From the passenger seat, Georgia asked the driver, “Is Linda unconscious?”

  “We think she had a seizure. We’ll know more after the doctors look her over.”

  Linda didn’t move. One of her eyes was blackened, and Georgia
asked, “Why is she all scratched up?”

  “The air bags do that when they inflate.”

  “I had no idea they could inflict that kind of damage. I thought they were supposed to keep you from getting hurt.”

  He snorted a laugh. “It happens all the time.”

  Upon arrival, the squad wheeled the gurney inside the emergency entrance, and Linda was quickly ushered down a long hallway of the hospital. Without direction from anyone, Georgia stumbled into the same holding area where Yvonne waited with Rolland on his stretcher. He was awake, but banged up.

  “What happened?” Georgia asked him.

  “Danged if I know,” Rolland croaked out. “I saw her car and waved to her. The next thing I know, she floated over the line going really slow and was heading straight at me. The scariest thing I’ve ever seen. My truck was so much bigger; her car sustained most of the damage.”

  A nurse came and unlocked the wheels of the gurney to prepare to push Rolland in for tests.

  Yvonne asked, “Can I go with him?”

  “Sure. He’s awake and he looks like he’s in pretty good shape.”

  Georgia wandered from the hallway where they had been standing through an opening in a glass wall. It was a waiting room arranged with a big rectangle of royal blue padded chairs. She sat down in one and quickly checked her cell phone to see if it worked. The little screen showed that she had three messages from Margot:

  First one: “Where are you? I’m at your house.”

  Next: “Mom, I’m leaving your house, but call me when you get home.”

  Third: “Mom?” She clicked on the green button and listened as the service autodialed her daughter. Margot picked right up, “Mom?”

  “Hi, honey. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner . . .”

  Crying but also furious she demanded, “You’re sleeping with him?”