Jane's Melody

by Ryan Winfield

  “Are you sure, Jane?”

  “Yes. Go on. I’ll have a car take me back, and I’ll swing by and drop off her bag. It might be late.”

  “You’re a saint,” he said.

  Then he smiled and wheeled his wife away.

  Jane stood watching after them. She saw Bob lean down to hear something his wife was saying, and then he stopped and turned the wheelchair around so that she and Jane could see one another. They were still close enough that Jane could make out her face. Grace held up a shaking hand, as if to say farewell. Jane waved back. She was almost certain she saw Grace smile.

  Then Bob turned her again, and they were gone.

  Jane stood with her hand still upheld, and now she cried.

  Chapter 26

  THEY BURIED GRACE three weeks later on a Saturday.

  The sun was out, the birds were singing, and Jane watched as a riding lawnmower passed like a toy on the hill high above the cemetery, the distant buzz of its blades audible over the muffled sobs of those in attendance.

  She stood with the women from their Saturday morning meeting and listened as Grace’s husband said a few words. He was slightly drunk, although no one there seemed to care, and he cried almost as much as he spoke. But it was clear that he had loved his wife, and that he would miss her greatly. Overall his eulogy was very nice. He had asked Jane if she wanted to speak, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t think she could honor Grace’s memory without mentioning their trip together, and she felt that what they had shared in Paris should be private somehow. Besides, nobody present needed to be reminded just how amazing Grace had been. They all knew it in their own special ways.

  With one loud squeak from a rusted pulley, but no other sound, as the mower had quit working and even the birds had stopped their singing now, Jane watched as the casket and its thick covering of flowers disappeared into the ground.

  Goodbye, Grace. Goodbye.

  Soon everyone drifted off toward the parking lot. Jane broke away and crossed the cemetery to her daughter’s grave. She stood looking down at the marble stone, the green grass now fully regrown. She noticed a tiny yellow dandelion thriving in the protected corner where the headstone met the ground, and she was reminded of the candles she’d lit in Notre Dame.

  She knelt and placed her hand on Melody’s name.

  The smooth marble felt cool against her warm palm, and she smelled the earth and the cut grass. She bowed her head.

  “You’re in good company now,” she said. “You and Grace take care of each other, okay? Wherever you are. I love you so much, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

  WHEN SHE RETURNED TO HER HOUSE, everything seemed different somehow, as if the formality of laying Grace to rest had opened her eyes and things would never be the same.

  Her house was a mess. Unpaid bills were stacked on the kitchen table; laundry was overflowing in the hamper. She’d been surviving on little to eat except the Doritos in her pantry, and those too were nearly gone now. The fountain had run dry while she was in Europe, and when she’d finally filled it again, the motor was gummed up with slime and wouldn’t pump. The grass was tall and headed with seed, and weeds had reclaimed the garden from Caleb’s vegetables that lay rotting there in the dirt. There was even a patch of blackberry vines returning on the creek bank. And she was alone. So very alone. She would have given anything for even the company of that silly goat.

  The sixth day after Grace’s funeral, Jane decided to make an attempt at cleaning things up. She was changing the sheets in Melody’s room when she found a note on the bed, weighted down by Melody’s baby book. The note had been scrawled by a desperate hand and the ink was smeared with tears—

  I know you don’t mean what you said—I love you, and I know you love me. I’ll come back for you when things are more equal between us. Until then, I’ll be out there thinking of you and playing the guitar you got me.

  Jane read the note again.

  She wondered how it was she had missed it.

  The sun was coming through the window, and she could see the pink showing faintly through the new paint where it was thinnest on the wall. She remembered Caleb helping her paint it, helping her grieve over what she had lost. She remembered just how sensitive and loving he had been, how gentle. She remembered making love to him on the floor, surrounded by brushes and buckets of paint, and she remembered feeling more complete than she had ever felt before, or was likely to ever feel again. She could still see his eyes and smell his skin.

  She was startled from her thoughts sometime later by a knock on the front door. She rose to go see who it was. As she approached the door, a tiny sliver of hope rose in her breast, and she paused to close her eyes and make a silent wish. When she swung the door open, she was looking at Mrs. Hawthorne.

  “Mrs. Hawthorne?”

  “That’s what they keep telling me, but I can’t be sure.”

  She was supporting herself on an old cane, and a white van idled in the drive behind her.

  “How did you know where I lived?”

  “It’s not a very big island, dear.”

  “I suppose that’s true. Would you like to come in?”

  The old lady rolled her eyes and nodded toward the van.

  “He’s in a hurry to dump me off at the raisin ranch.”

  “Where?” Jane asked.

  “They’ve finally forced me into a home. I guess it’s been a long time coming. However, I didn’t drop by to complain to you about my sad situation, as tempting as it is.”

  “Well, what can I do for you?”

  “Do you know how I can get in touch with that handsome boyfriend of yours? He up and ran off on me without a word.”

  Jane shook her head sadly.

  “I’m pretty sure Caleb’s in Austin, but I don’t have any way of getting in touch with him.”

  The old woman sighed, casting a glance back toward the waiting van. Then she leaned closer to Jane, as if to include her in some grand conspiracy.

  “Listen, dear. I can’t be sure how long I’ll be around. I do believe they intend to see me off as soon as they can, probably by poisoning my Jell-O. Do you think I could trust you to give Caleb something for me when you see him?”

  “I wish I could say yes,” Jane said, “but I’m not sure I will see him again.”

  The old lady smiled.

  “Of course, you will, dear. Of course, you will.”

  She reached into her pocket and hauled out the box that contained the ring. She pressed it into Jane’s palm and winked.

  “He earned this working for me. I think he had some big plans for it, but those would be his plans to tell and not mine. He’s a good man, our young Caleb is. And you can go ahead and tell him I said so. But don’t you let on that I miss him too much. It it’s not fair to burden the young with too much guilt, especially over an old woman.”

  She grinned at Jane and then turned and walked to the van.

  The young driver jumped out and opened the sliding door for her, but she pushed his offered hand aside and climbed into the seat herself.

  “Keep your paws off me,” she griped. “I might be old, but I’m not crippled yet, you know.”

  Jane watched her through the tinted side-window glass as the van backed from the drive and pulled away. She was sitting proud and straight, and she did not turn to look back.

  After the van had disappeared, Jane opened the case the old lady had given her. Her mouth fell open when she saw the yellow diamond engagement ring inside.

  WHEN JANE WALKED IN, she found Ralph sitting behind the hardware store counter eating frozen yogurt with a plastic spoon. He licked the spoon and tossed it along with the empty container in the trash and smiled at her with pink teeth.

  “Howdy, Jane. Becca’s been meaning to give you call.”

  “Never mind about the insurance plan, Ralph. I don’t even want to sell you a policy any longer.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. I’m here because I’d like to k
now if those Peters brothers are still interested in my house.”

  “Well,” he said, “you know the market’s still in the dumps. But I’m sure I could—”

  “Don’t hustle me,” Jane said, cutting him off. “I plan to list it anyway, so if they want a shot before it goes on the open market, have them get in touch with me.”

  THEY CAME THE NEXT DAY—

  Rodney and Richard; they were identical twins.

  They wore matching Carhartt coveralls, but one of them was fat and the other thin, making it easy to tell them apart—although Jane quickly forgot which was which. She invited them in, and they stood in the foyer and looked around, their eyes eventually settling on Jane’s friend.

  “Is this your partner?” the thin one asked.

  “This is Esmeralda. She’s a realtor friend of mine.”

  He glanced at his brother and then looked back to Jane.

  “Well, we were under the impression from Ralph that you were looking for a direct sale. We like to do our business under the radar, so to speak. You know, save on the commissions and all that. No offense, Es ...”

  “Esmeralda,” Jane said. “And if you want to deal with me, she’s part of the package. I’ll pay her commission, of course.”

  “Suit yourself,” the fat one said. “Let’s have a look around. We’ve got three other properties to look at this afternoon, and I’m growing roots just standing here.”

  Jane walked them through the house.

  They kept pointing at things and shaking their heads, as if they were disappointed by what they saw.

  “Yep. Gonna need a new water heater for sure.”

  “And that window’s fogged up too.”

  “Looks to be a broken seal.”

  When they stood for five minutes in the hallway, arguing over whether or not they thought the acoustic ceiling contained asbestos, Jane had had enough.

  “What do you care anyway?” she asked. “You’re just going to tear the place down and build new.”

  “Oh, she’s a smart one,” the thin brother said. “But here’s the thing, Jane and Es ...”

  “Esmeralda.”

  “Esmeralda. We’ll need to rent it out while we go through the plan and permit processes. Not to mention the market isn’t right for building right now. Might not be for several years yet. So you see, we’ve got to be concerned about the house as well.”

  Before Jane could reply Esmeralda stepped in.

  “Well, Jane’s been living in it just fine, so I doubt you’ll have any trouble. Plus, I could rent this place as is before you two could drive yourselves home, wherever that might be.”

  The brothers took the hint and moved on to the backyard. They stood in the high grass with their hands on their hips and surveyed the lot, their heads nodding and swiveling in unison like two dashboard bobble heads.

  “That’s a nice creek,” one said.

  “Cuts down on buildable feet,” replied the other. “Might make the permit process tougher, too.”

  “Okay, boys,” Jane finally said. “If you want to make an offer, we’ll hear it now. Otherwise we plan to put it live on the market tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, hell fire,” the thin one said. “We usually need a few days to work out an offer.”

  Esmeralda shook her head.

  “Stop putting us on. You knew what this property was worth to you before you even got here.”

  The twins glanced at one another, mind-reading perhaps. Then they turned back to Jane and spoke at the same time.

  “Three fifty.”

  Jane laughed.

  “If you want to come in here and rob me, you better have guns or something in those silly coveralls you’re both wearing.”

  They looked at one another’s outfits.

  “I’ll take five fifty,” Jane said.

  Now they laughed.

  “Lady, unless you’ve got gold bars buried out here in the grass, we’re not even in the same zip code.”

  Jane looked at Esmeralda.

  “What can you get me for it on the market, Mel?”

  “I thought you said her name was Esmeralda?”

  “It is to you,” Jane said. “Her friends call her Mel.”

  Esmeralda looked around, considering.

  “I think I can get at least five and a quarter if we list it.”

  “Let’s round down to five. Five hundred thousand less six points for commission makes—let’s see—what’s that make?”

  “Four seventy,” Esmeralda said.

  Jane turned back to the brothers.

  “Four seventy then.Deal or no deal?”

  The brothers looked at each other and shook their heads.

  “Four hundred even,” the fat one said.

  Jane stuck out her hand.

  “Four fifty and you’ve got a deal.”

  “Four thirty-five.”

  “Nope. Four fifty or we list.”

  There was a long pause while Jane’s hand hung there. Then the thin one stepped forward and shook it.

  “We’ll need thirty days to close.”

  “Fine,” Jane said. “I’ll have Mel here do the paperwork.”

  After they had made an appointment to sign the official offer with Esmeralda in her office the following Monday, the ladies saw the brothers out and watched from the door as they drove away in their enormous pickup.

  “Went just like you said it would,” Esmeralda said.

  Jane laughed and shook her head.

  “Men and their silly negotiating.”

  “YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT THIS COAT?”

  “No, take it,” Jane said. “I won’t need that heavy old thing where I’m going.”

  “What about these shoes?”

  “They’ll look better on you anyway.”

  It was one week after she’d made the deal with the Peters brothers to sell her house, and her friends from the meeting were going through her closet like starved retail junkies.

  After they had taken all they wanted, they helped her haul everything else out onto the front lawn, even the furniture, and some went out to tack up posters and hang balloons, while others stayed to help with the yard sale customers. Jane priced everything to sell, and the things that wouldn’t sell, she threw in for free with other purchases.

  By the time the last car pulled away, and only Esmeralda remained, the sun was setting, and Jane had nothing left except the clothes she wore most regularly, a few of her favorite pairs of shoes, and a couple of boxes filled with personal possessions that she intended to keep. She had even sold the refrigerator.

  “You want to stay at my place?” Esmeralda asked.

  “No, thanks,” Jane said. “I think I’m going to stay here.”

  “But what will you sleep on?”

  “I’m so exhausted I could sleep right here on the ground. But I saved an old air mattress and a blanket that have a kind of special meaning to me.”

  “You sure? I’ve got a spare bed.”

  “I’m sure,” Jane said. “I’ve got to say goodbye.”

  Esmeralda hugged her.

  “I’m going to miss you. We all are.”

  Jane looked at her friend and smiled. She had expected to feel sad, but she didn’t. She wasn’t sure what she felt.

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Before Esmeralda got into her car, she called back:

  “I’ll be in touch with you anyway about the closing. And remember what Grace always told us: don’t be a secret.”

  Jane nodded and waved.

  After watching Esmeralda’s tail-lights disappear into the dusk, she walked back into her empty house. It was strange to see the outlines where her furniture had been, the carpet bleached by years of sun. She stood in the living room and looked at the fireplace. She remembered Caleb sitting next to it and playing his guitar. She could almost hear the music, it was so quiet. She walked into the kitchen and paused to remember all the brea
kfasts they had shared there. She remembered Caleb on that first morning, with his burnt toast, his bruised face, and his cute smile beneath the brim of that silly hat he would always wear. She remembered the wild sex they had later on the table, after the baseball game. Next she went to her bedroom, and stood where her bed had been and closed her eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to be with him—to kiss his lips, to feel him inside her, to fall asleep with her head on his naked chest. She missed him terribly, and she only hoped that he could someday forgive her.

  Finally she stood in the doorway to Melody’s room for a long time. It looked just like it had before they moved in. She was aware of an immense grief when she thought about her daughter’s death, but it no longer stabbed at her heart the way it had. She knew she would never be over it, that not a day would pass when she didn’t think of Melody and wish that things had been different. But for the very first time since her daughter had left home, she felt a kind of peace about her—as if she were somehow finally okay. As if she no longer suffered. Perhaps not all spirits are meant for this world, but they pass through anyway and change for the better those which are.

  Jane pulled the air mattress from the closet and plugged it in. The pump motor sputtered, then sprung to life and blew the mattress up. She unplugged it and capped the vent. Then she clicked off the light, wrapped Melody’s favorite blanket around her shoulders, and lay down. The air mattress floated her back in time. She could almost feel her daughter’s breath against her cheek in the dark. She could hear her voice.

  “When will our stuff get here, Mommy?”

  “Maybe tomorrow if it doesn’t snow, doll.”

  “I hope it snows.”

  “Don’t you want your things?”

  “Yes. But I want snow more.”

  “Well, maybe it will snow then. I brought your boots along anyway, just in case.”

  Quiet then for a while.

  Little toes squirming beneath the covers.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  “Do we get to stay here forever?”

  “Well, forever’s a long time, sweetie. But we bought it, so that means no one can make us move.”

  Eyes closed, almost asleep now.