by Kay Shostak
First thing, get up off this couch. Walking through to the kitchen, there’s not even papers or stray dishes to pick up. With Missus on patrol, no one leaves anything out. I sit my cold cup of coffee in the sink and watch the swaying of the weeping willow at the bottom of our back yard. A clear blue sky reflects in the river beside it, and I realize I let the spring slide by without visiting my thinking spot. Last fall I spent so much time down there, I kept a picnic blanket folded up to sit on. Of course, that was when I had someone to talk to down there. Never mind that it was a ghost. Or what I thought was a ghost.
Out on the deck, the sun is warm, hot even. Missus decorated the deck with planters of pink geraniums for the Mother’s Day brunch, and they still look beautiful.
Maybe I should get into gardening. We’ve got plenty of space for flowers or vegetables.
In the yard, the dew only remains in the shadows around the deck. The rest of the back hill is covered in sunshine and thick grass, and as I walk down it, I start sweating. Won’t be long until there won’t be any coolness in the night or early morning air. Twenty-four/seven heat. That’s the South—love it or hate it, it doesn’t change.
At the bottom of the hill, I enter the shade and privacy of my weeping willow. The whip-like branches are still, and there isn’t a single ripple on the water. I know it’s flowing, but there’s no evidence to point to. There are no bugs chirping or birds singing. Everything is still, and the quiet feels complete as I settle on a bumped-up piece of root.
When Bryan finishes school next week, he’ll be a high school freshman. Savannah will be a senior. How did this all happen so fast? Oh, yeah, and by Christmas Will will be a father. Oh, and I’ll be a grandmother. And married to a grandfather, which is crazier than anything. How could I get to this point in my life and not know what I want to do? Savannah and her friends talk about what classes they want to take in college, and what they want to be, and all I can think is, “What do I want to be?”
Maybe I should take some classes. Go back to school.
Jackson is busier than ever at work and traveling more than ever, too. We’re back on the same page, but he won’t be retiring anytime soon. And it’s not like I would want to go with him when he travels, not to the lovely dirt heaps he usually ends up working in.
I lay my head back against the trunk of the tree and take a few deep breaths to feel how very still everything is.
Boy. That sure can get annoying quick. Everything being so still kind of creeps me out. I jump up, dart out from under my tree, and don’t look back. Climbing the hill, my chest heaves, and I really start to sweat.
Maybe I should start working out. Join a gym up in Dalton.
“Hey, FM. What’s that cooking?” I ask as I enter the kitchen and go straight to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.
“Morning, Carolina. It’s pulled pork for tonight. Cooked a big pork roast all night in the crockpot with a can of Coca-Cola. See, it shreds practically by itself. Just going to put some sauce and stuff on it, and it’ll be delicious for supper.”
“Well, it sure smells good right now,” I say as I steal a little piece of the tender meat. “You really like doing all this cooking, don’t you?”
He grins, and his mustache practically meets his squinched-up eyes. “I do. Course, I’ve only had to do it this week. If I had to fix for a bunch of folks every day, all the time, I might not like it. But, you know, some folks do.” He dumps the shredded meat back into the crockpot and starts adding sauces, brown sugar, and spices. The smell only gets better.
“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe I should learn more about cooking, get into it more.”
“Well, don’t do it until I leave next week ’cause I got some more recipes I want to try.”
“Promise.” I take another drink of my water and cross the kitchen. “I’m going to shower and then head to town. Since I left the bookstore on Monday, I haven’t been downtown once.”
FM turns to me, big fork raised in his hand. “I noticed that. You seem to be kind of moping around up here. What’s the problem?”
I lean against the side of the refrigerator. “I don’t know. Just don’t know what I want to do. I’m kinda bored.”
He shakes the fork, glistening with pork juices, at me. “Enjoy it. Press into it. Listen for that still, small voice. It’s a true gift to have realized you have a void in your life before you’ve gone and filled it up. Take your time. Life’ll find you. Always does.”
He turns back to his cooking, and I head upstairs. “Hmmm, life will find you.” I say it out loud a few times. “Life will find you.”
Pulling off my damp tee-shirt and stretchy black pants, I keep saying it in my head. As I stand under the spray of the shower, Life will find you, life will find you rolls over and over in my thoughts until… until I stop it with just one more thought.
But, what if it doesn’t?
“Hey, Shannon, thought I’d stop in and see how things are going.” The little bell on the door rings as I enter the florist. Shannon’s head is buried in the flower cooler on the other side of the room.
“Hey, yourself.” She stands up and lets the clear glass door close. “So, what’s going on? You’re not doing the bookstore anymore?”
“Nope, Patty and her mom and Andy are doing it.” I walk past her counter and stretch to look past the bookshelves to the painted plywood counter Andy built. “Where are they?”
Shannon shrugs and joins me in the middle area where the two stores meet. “Who knows? And I know you’re not working here anymore, but look, the shelves where you had the books? Look at them.”
The shelf we are closest to looks very full of books. Matter of fact they are two rows deep, which means half of the books can’t even be seen. Passing that one and moving forward, I see the first two shelves are full of junk. Toys, old dishes, plastic flowers. You name it, and it’s there. As long as what you’re naming is old, worthless junk.
“This looks awful! What happened to a bookstore or a gift shop? Like with new gifts, I mean.”
Shannon sighs. “Andy apparently has several flea market booths he switches merchandise through. Guess this is just another one. Mrs. Samson doesn’t even look at it, and Patty says Andy’s the business man, and he knows what he’s doing. I don’t want this place to just look like a junk store. I mean, if it was antiques or something kind of nice, maybe. But that’s just …”
“Junk,” we say at the same time.
“Plus, none of them are ever here. Andy shows up with a load of crap, excuse my language, and Patty shoves it on a shelf, then they go upstairs.”
She leans over and nudges my shoulder with hers. “Those two spend a lot of time upstairs, if you know what I mean.”
“But where’s her mother? Where’s Gertie? She’s left the B&B every day this week early. I assumed she was here overseeing everything.”
“I don’t know. I’ve seen her once, maybe, this week. One day she was here at lunch time and brought some fast food from out at the interstate. They sat over there, smelling up the whole place with fried food.”
“Have they sold anything?”
She shakes her head while pulling out a broken fern from a bouquet she took from the cooler. “No. Listen, I have to take this over to the Deen’s house. Her daughter called it in from North Carolina. Guess it’s her mama’s birthday. Can you watch things while I’m gone? I’ll be right back. I never did hire any help because we were going to watch each other’s shops, remember? Well, it’s not working out like that. I promise, I’ll be right back. Fifteen minutes.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’ve not got anything to do.”
She pulls her purse out from under the counter and fishes for her keysShe slings her purse over her shoulder and lifts the arrangement of carnations and tiny pink roses into her other hand. I open the front door for her and watch as she crosses the street. The door closes, tinkling the little bell as it does.
All the work I did just last week alphabetizing the books was for nau
ght. They’ve been shoved on the last shelf in any old order. My library training kicks in, and soon they are straightened out. It wasn’t hard—they had been moved in chunks so the right letters were kind of together. Then I made a display of some of my favorite summer reads in the front window. Shannon had cleared a space for us to use, and it still sat empty. On the back of a yellow file folder, I wrote “Great Summer Reads” and tucked it behind the book display. On the junk shelves I found a red plastic sand shovel and then a couple painted wine glasses. The glasses were painted with palm trees and flamingos and looked cute next to a couple summer romances. I took a cheap pair of sunglasses out of my purse and put them on top of a stack of thrillers. With the red shovel, the window looked neat and enticing.
“Hey, the window looks cool,” Shannon says as she walks in the door. “Thanks for watching things here. Mrs. Deen was so tickled with the flowers.”
“Glad I could help. Doesn’t seem fair you’re here by yourself.”
“No big deal. I was always alone before. And it’s not like I’m actually having to sell anything for them.”
“Yeah, doesn’t look like any books have sold.”
A blast of laughter from upstairs makes Shannon raise her eyebrows. “Nope, they’re too busy doing something else to sell books.”
I dunk my reddening face to grab my purse from under the counter. Thank goodness I don’t have to work here and hear about that all the time. “Okay, well, I’m going to go next door. Can I get you anything from MoonShots?”
Shannon lifts up her purple MoonShots cup. “Nope, got a coffee here I’ve been nursing all morning. Thanks again for your help.”
“Anytime. Seriously, just holler if you need me. I’ve not got much of anything going on right now.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Sure helped me out today.”
“No problem,” I say as I open the door again. Outside, I turn to my left and cross the alleyway to stand in front of a newly cleaned and polished glass, brass, and wood door. Even though it’s in another old building, it’s so clean and shiny, the MoonShots feels new.
I’ve yet to get a hazelnut iced latte, and that was always my favorite drink back in Marietta when the weather got warmer. There’s not the quaint tinkle of a bell on the door when I open it, instead there is a slight buzz that doesn’t interfere with the soft, jazzy music which wraps around me, along with the rich smell of coffee. It truly is like entering a different world, just stepping in here. A wonderful, peaceful world of coffee and peace.
Jordan’s head snaps up when she sees it’s me. Her blonde hair falls perfectly in place alongside her face, and as it falls, so does her mouth. “So, you met Diego.”
“Yes, he seems very nice.”
“Is his mother with him?”
“No, he says she won’t be coming to town,” I respond with a lilt in my voice. It should make her happy to hear that, right? However, her eyes fill with tears.
“Of course not. That would mean she would have to bring my daughters.” She takes a deep breath and clears her throat. “Speaking of daughters, can Savannah work Sunday mornings?”
I really want to order some coffee, so I quickly titch my teeth. “Oh, I don’t know. She goes to church and, well, I don’t think she’s going to want to.”
Jordan leans on the counter in front of her. “I don’t get it. Go to church some other time. My God, there’s like some kind of service every day of the week. I see the cram-packed schedules on the boards out front of the churches. God can’t be that into a particular day.”
“Well, I kind of think he is. You know, Sunday, the Sabbath, and all that.”
She wrinkles her perfectly tweezed eyebrows. “Sabbath? Isn’t that Jewish or something? I have to find someone that can work. Some of the kids have offered, but their folks freaked out. You’re not from here, so I thought maybe you’d be a little more open-minded about Savannah working. But, no, you and your little family go to one of the thousand churches here, too.”
“Not really. I mean, some, but Jackson really likes church more than me.”
“I’ll pay you double if you’ll come in and work on Sunday mornings.”
“What? I don’t know anything about working here.” And yet, that smell, that music, how peaceful. It would probably be more peaceful here than at church.
She seems desperate. “I’ll teach you. And I’ll give you free coffee. Anytime. Please, I’m desperate. Sundays are such a big day for a coffee shop.”
“But if everyone is in church, who’s going to be buying coffee?”
Jordan smiles. “Come work just one Sunday, and you’ll see. I’ll give you a flat hundred dollars to work from 6 am until 11:00.”
“Really? Okay, put me down for this Sunday. I’ll see you at six.” I point a finger at her. “And you said free coffee?”
Jordan’s smile is big as she steps up to the espresso machine. “Absolutely. What can I get you?”
I order my drink and look around my new place of employment. All right, FM. Maybe life really does find you.
Chapter 20
“Of course, I knew they’d be moving out!” I say as I throw my hands up in the air. “I just didn’t know how much I’d miss them.” Those words coming out of my mouth about Missus and FM are cringeworthy.
Jackson is standing in front of a nearly empty suitcase. Behind him are half-open drawers, which are also nearly empty. He looks from one to the other. “Missus was doing our laundry, too?”
“I guess.” And the suitcase and drawers aren’t the only empty things. The refrigerator, kitchen cabinets, and toilet paper holders are all running on empty. “I was busy and didn’t really think about it.”
Hard to believe just two weeks ago I was wandering around with nothing to do. Did I mention I’d been busy? Griffin came up and rototilled a big section of our backyard for my new vegetable garden, Sunday mornings at MoonShots are pretty much a given now (besides, I need the extra money to buy gardening supplies), and there are those other times Jordan calls me when she needs help other than Sundays. Most days when she needs me, she finds me next door since I’m giving Shannon a lot of extra time, as Patty and Andrew are still busy upstairs. Susan signed me up to help with Vacation Bible School, Savannah and Bryan finished school last week so they are laying around the house needing supervision, and we are having a wedding in only two weeks. A wedding Anna and Will have no time to plan, which Missus is blowing way out of proportion, and which she expects me to participate in.
Then Missus and FM moved out and into their repaired house, leaving me with all the cooking, cleaning, and yes, laundry.
“How long are you going to be gone?” I say as I get up off the side of the bed.
“Only a couple nights, so I guess I have enough clothes to take. But then I’ll be cleaned out.”
“No problem, I’ll start on laundry tomorrow afternoon when I get home from MoonShots and it’ll all be done by time you get home.”
“It’s a pain leaving on Sunday, but they need the time tomorrow afternoon before traffic gets going again on the highway Monday morning. You sure you have to work? I have to leave before noon.”
“Jordan expects me. At least you’re not missing Leslie’s graduation party tonight.”
He comes to me and puts his arms around my waist. “We do have to change for the party. Might as well get started now.”
“Well, since I have to take these clothes off, might as well,” I say and then follow with an exaggerated sigh and a smile. Since our rough patch last winter, we know we can’t let too much space get between us. Luckily, we like the no-space thing. And after all, it’s not exactly work.
Susan and Griffin’s backyard is filled with string lights. They swing from the high tree branches and glow from the depths of the bushes around the patio. The food is set up on their screened-in porch, and coolers of beer, soft drinks, and water sit along the outside of the porch steps. A wheelbarrow full of ice chills the bottles of wine settled in it. Chairs and tables from
the church are covered in light blue fabric, the same shade as the dusky sky. Susan entertains frequently, but it tends to be more the spontaneous kind of entertaining. Everyone helps, everyone eats, everyone has fun. This looks more like something out of a magazine.
“Susan, this is amazing,” I say as our hostess comes to where we have entered from around the side of the house.
She grins and looks around. “It is, isn’t it? I’ve had such fun putting it all together. You know I don’t really plan parties. They just happen. But I wanted this to be special for Leslie. She’s such a good kid.”
In the corner seating, with cushions and pillows all in shades of blue, Leslie and some of her friends are laughing and talking. Leslie is the serious older sister for not only her siblings Susie Mae and Grant, but all her cousins. She reminds me of our oldest, Will, then I remember how that turned out, giving up law school, having to marry his girlfriend, living with family. But, no, I shake myself. He graduated from college, he and Anna seem to love each other, he has a job. “Oh, reminds me,” I say and turn back to Susan. “Will has to work late, but he’ll be here straight from work. The dealership is having a big sale. Anna is coming with Missus and FM.”
“Yeah, I thought Laney was going to strangle Shaw about the sale being tonight. She thought it would be next weekend for Memorial Day. Did you know Laney got a new job?”
My ears perk up. “No, where?”
“Coming,” Susan shouts to Griffin who’s yelling for her from the screened porch. “Gotta go, she’ll be here soon. Ask her.”
Susan whips around, and her ponytail flies straight. She has on a cute red dress with little bulldogs on it. Appropriate for Leslie going off to University of Georgia, but Susan probably actually wore it when she went to UGA. How do some people stay so skinny?
Anna comes up behind me, and poor thing still looks sick. She’s having trouble keeping anything down, and I hate that the pregnancy is so hard on her. “Hi, Carolina.”