by Geof Johnson
Zach’s mother stepped inside the house and said, “I’d rather not spend the money on a locksmith if we don’t have to. The key will turn up.”
The front entrance of the house had a spacious foyer with doorways on either side of it and a wide staircase at the back. To the left of that was a short hallway. Liz peered about and said, “This would look cheerful with a big potted plant right here and some framed artwork on one wall. And new paint, of course.”
Her father opened the door to their right and led them into the adjoining room. “This is the library.”
Wooden shelves, loaded with books, lined two of the walls, and tall windows were on the other two, with shorter shelves underneath them. The view out front was blocked by shrubs, and Liz made a mental note to remind her father to trim those back as soon as possible.
Zach wrinkled his nose and said, “Stinks in here.”
“It’s mildew,” Liz’s father said. “Nobody’s touched these books in years.”
Liz scanned a few of the titles. “We’ll have to figure out what to do with these. I hate to get rid of books, but I don’t do well with mildew.”
Her father led them back into the foyer and through the opposite doorway. “This is the living room or parlor or whatever you want to call it.”
It was huge, much bigger than she expected, and dark and gloomy, with an old-fashioned couch and matching wing chairs, upholstered in dreary, old-lady fabric. Side tables, coffee tables, and shelves covered with knick-knacks filled the large space. “I pulled all the sheets off this stuff earlier,” her father said.
She eyed the cobweb-covered chandelier that hung at the center of the room. “Dad, you promised me you were going to clean before we got here.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
She exhaled sharply and looked away for a moment. “Okay, we’ll deal with it. Let’s see the upstairs real quick so we can figure out what to do with that furniture. Remind me how many bedrooms are in this house.”
“Five. Four upstairs, which haven’t been used in years, and a master bedroom on this floor, which is where Winnie slept. You’ll probably want to take that one and let Zach take one of the other ones.”
Zach’s brow fell sharply. “You mean I have to sleep upstairs by myself?”
“You won’t have to, honey,” Liz said quickly. “I’ll take one of those bedrooms, too.” And you can sleep with your light on, she thought, but didn’t say it out loud so as not to embarrass him in front of his grandfather.
Liz walked with them up the stairs, which opened into a long hall. Zach stopped at the first door on the right. “What’s this, Grandpa?”
“Bathroom. There are two up here and one and a half downstairs.”
Zach opened it and flicked on the wall switch as he went inside. “Oh, man, it’s old.”
“But nothing drips, at least.”
Liz peeked in and regarded the antique-looking fixtures. A clawfoot bathtub. A pedestal sink. Woefully out-of-style cabinets.
“Where’s the shower, Grandpa?” Zach said.
“This house doesn’t have one.”
“How am I supposed to wash my hair and rinse off and stuff?”
He pointed near the faucet. “See that little hose with the doodad on the end? You turn the knob right there and hold that thing over your head when you’re ready to do that.”
Zach, looking even more miserable, turned to Liz. She said, “It’s okay, honey. We’ll put in a shower. I budgeted a little for remodeling.” But I didn’t count on having to do that. “Dad, you can do that kind of work, can’t you?”
“Sure can. I just did that for Mrs. Mosley around the corner. Remodeled her whole bathroom. Easy as sneazin’.”
“Can you do it soon?” Zach said. “Like, right away?”
“Zach,” Liz said. “We’ll try to make it a priority, but we’ll have a list of things a mile long that need doing first.” She gave her father a hard look. “Like, cut the shrubs. And paint.”
“Can we get rid of the ugly carpets?” Zach asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Dad, you’ll help with that, won’t you?”
“Of course. There are wooden floors under all of it. Bet they’re in good shape, too, since the carpet’s been protecting it all these years.”
“It’ll look nice when we’re done. We can make this house a real showplace, Zach. It’ll take a lot of work, but it’ll be beautiful.”
Zach’s narrow shoulders slumped, and Grandpa said, “Some folks moved in down the street and have been fixing their place up. Looks better. We can do it, too.” He nodded. “And these houses are built really well. They don’t make them like this anymore. Once we’re done with it, they’ll probably want to put a picture of it on the cover of one of those magazines, like, uh….”
“Southern Living,” Liz said.
“Yeah, that one. This house will be a grand and fancy, like it was when Uncle Nicholas bought it.”
Zach twisted his mouth slowly while he regarded his grandfather. “Can I pick out my bedroom, now?”
They went back to the hall and opened the next door to find a decent-sized bedroom. It had two windows that offered plenty of light, though the curtains were covered with dust. Liz fingered one and frowned. “I’ll need to wash these. I’ll replace them when I have time to make new ones.”
“Why can’t I use my old ones?” Zach said.
“They won’t fit. These windows are bigger.”
The furniture was covered with sheets. Liz pulled the nearest one off to reveal a tall dresser. “This looks nice,” she said.
“I think it’s mahogany,” her father said. “Uncle Nicholas wanted good things for this house, according to my mom. This was probably all stuff he bought a long time ago.”
She peeled off another sheet to reveal a dressing table. She stripped a third one to find a nightstand. “I like all of this. What do you think, Zach? Do you want it?”
“I want my furniture.”
“Oh, well, I guess we can store it in the garage or sell it. How’s the bed?” She started to uncover it, but paused when she spotted a tiny object lying in the middle. “What’s this?” She picked it up and examined it closely.
It looked like an origami swan, smaller than her palm, made of thin strips of leaves. “This is beautiful. Did you make this, Dad?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t do crafts.”
“Then how did it get here? It looks new.”
“I have no idea, unless somebody broke in and put it there. Nobody else has a key but me.”
“Broke in?” Zach’s voice rose and his eyes stretched wide.
“Calm down, son, it’s a safe neighborhood. Nobody’d do that, and if they did, they’d steal something. Maybe somebody snuck in while I was here yesterday, and put it on the bed.”
“But why? That’s creepy!”
Her father rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily. “Wish I hadn’t said that about sneakin’ in.”
“Mom?” Zach turned to her, his face lined with worry.
“It was probably already here, and it’s just a swan.” Liz waved a quick hand to shut off the discussion before Zach got too worked up. “Let’s look at the rest of the house so we can see get an idea of what we can sell and what we can give to Goodwill today.”
They inspected the other bedrooms and Liz picked one on the corner for herself, the second master, which had windows on two sides and offered a view of the neglected backyard, with its overgrown shrubs and the separate, single-car garage on the far side. Then they toured the rest of the house: the sitting room, the dining room, the kitchen, the laundry room, the downstairs bedroom where Aunt Winnie stayed, and the terrace.
They returned to the foyer and Liz checked her watch. “Dad, how long will it take to get your friends over here with their truck?”
“A few minutes.”
“Do you think they’d help us move some of this old furniture into the garage if I pay them?”
/> “Probably. Do you have any cash?” He patted his pockets. “I’m a little short.”
“Yes, I came prepared. Are you going to help us? We have a lot to do before dinner.”
“Uh, my knee’s been a little extra sore lately. I don’t know how much I can handle.”
“Dad, I really need your help.” He still seemed reluctant, so she added, “I’ll buy you some pizza afterward. Zach and I are going to Antonio’s for dinner.”
“Can I get a beer?”
“Only if you help.”
“Deal.”
She pulled out her cell phone and handed it to him. “Call your buddies and tell them to bring their truck, please.”
* * *
Liz sat back in her chair and waited while the waitress placed their drinks on the table before them — iced tea for Liz, a Coke for Zach, and a Busch Lite draft for her father.
Her father smiled at the waitress and said, “You new here, darlin’? Don’t believe I know you.”
“Yes sir. This is my first week.” She was tall and slim, with a plain but pleasant face and dark hair held back in a long braid.
“You look like you’re probably still in high school. What grade are you in?”
“I’ll be a senior.”
“What’s your name?”
“Julie.”
“Well, Julie. I’m Rick. I’m kind of a regular here.” He gestured at Liz. “This here is your new attendance lady, Mrs. Webster. She’ll take care of you if you’re late to school.” Then he pointed at Zach and introduced him. “He’s going into eighth grade, I think.”
“Seventh,” Zach muttered and shrank in his chair, looking like he wanted to hide behind his Coke.
Julie left with their food order and Liz’s father picked up his beer. Zach watched him take a sip and said, “My dad always drank Heineken.”
“That’s for snobs. I always drink American beer. It’s better, anyway.”
“No. My dad said that imported beer—”
“Zach?” Liz snatched up her purse and pulled out her wallet. “Want to play some video games? I see some in the back.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the three hulking arcade machines on the far wall of the other room. “Those are old. Can I play on your cell phone?”
“The battery’s low. I haven’t charged it since last night. Why don’t you check out those games, instead? You might like them.”
“They’ve got Galaga and Super Mario,” her father said.
“Oh, yay.” Zach waved one finger in a loose circle in the air.
“I won’t make you do it,” Liz said. “You can play, or sit here and listen to us gossip about people you’ve never heard of.”
Zach extended his hand, palm up, and Liz gave him five quarters, while her father dug into his pocket and came up with two more. She said, “That should last until our pizza’s ready.”
Zach took the coins and headed toward the other room. When he was out of earshot her father said, “How’s he doing with all this?”
She hesitated before answering. “Not very well. He’s really depressed about his father, and he’s mad at me for making him move here and leave all his friends behind.”
“He’ll make new ones.” He took another sip of his beer and looked into the glass while he spoke, “He’s young. Kids are more resilient than us old folks.”
“Are there any kids in the neighborhood his age?”
“Not on our street. I think there are some on the street behind us, though. I see this one group of ’em from time to time, couple boys — twins, no less — and a girl. They look like they’re about Zach’s age. I oughta warn you, though. They’re a bunch of wild things.”
“What do you mean? Are they juvenile delinquents?”
“Not exactly. It’s just that I see ’em runnin’ around all day long on their own, seems like. I heard their dad’s in prison, so their mom has to work two jobs, and they have to look after themselves.”
“Prison? Has the neighborhood gone down that far?”
“He’s not like a murderer or bank robber or anything like that. I heard he was growin’ pot out in the forest, and he got caught.”
“Oh, terrific. Just drugs, then.”
“You need to lighten up. It’s just pot. And I don’t think those kids are breaking into houses or stealing. Not that I’ve heard, anyway.” He set his beer on the table and seemed to study it before saying, “How are you handling everything, Liz? You look tired.”
“I am tired. Tired to the bone. It’s been pretty overwhelming, but you know me. Soldier on. Isn’t that what you used to say?”
“Soldier on, yeah. Do what you gotta do. Zach’s lucky to have a strong woman like you for a mother. A lot of other women would’ve folded after what happened.”
“I feel like folding sometimes. I feel like getting in the bed, pulling the covers up over my head and curling into a ball and crying myself to sleep. I’m so…it’s hard to express it. This isn’t where I expected to be at this stage of my life. A single mother, coming back here…oh.” She closed her eyes while she took a deep breath. “That’s not what I wanted.”
“I know. This town doesn’t have much to offer younger people anymore. But at least you came back to visit once in a while. Your brother hasn’t been here in ten years. You realize that? Ten years. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back.”
“I still can’t believe he didn’t come to Mom’s funeral.”
“Yeah, well, he had an excuse, you know. Out of the country on business and all that.” He tightened one corner of his mouth and shook his head once.
Liz nodded and stared blankly at the table top for a moment, then she said, “But mostly I feel angry. I’m angry at John, and angry at myself for not seeing this coming, and just angry at life in general.”
“You had no idea he was going to do that? Did you even know he had a gun?”
“No. He must’ve gotten it just before….” She cleared her throat. “He was really down toward the end, obviously. Mostly about not being able to get a job. He’d been unemployed for a year. Almost exactly a year, to the day.”
“He could’ve gotten a job if he’d lowered his standards. Just because he couldn’t get work designing huge office buildings doesn’t mean he couldn’t have done smaller-scale stuff. I bet there’s still a demand for architects in Raleigh.”
“John was just too proud.”
“John was a jerk.”
“Well…he was, sometimes. He didn’t used to be.”
“He was always a jerk. I never liked him.”
She leaned toward her father and put both hands flat on the table. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t badmouth him in front of Zach, like that comment about the Heineken. It’s okay if you do it around me, but not him. All right?”
“I’ll try. Can’t make any promises, though.” Her father glanced toward Zach, who was sitting on a padded stool in front of one of the video machines. “You said he’s depressed about his dad?”
“I think he’s blaming himself.”
“What the hell for? Wasn’t his fault his father was a head case.”
“Zach thinks John was disappointed in him.”
“Why? Nothing’s wrong with Zach, near as I can tell.”
Liz rubbed her eyes with the fingertips of one hand, suddenly feeling drained. “You know Zach has never been good at sports, and that drove John crazy, because he was such a good athlete. He expected Zach to be the same, and he just isn’t.”
“He’s young. He’s scrawny, but he’ll grow. I was scrawny, too, when I was his age. My brother used to beat the tar out of me every chance he got.”
“It was more than just sports that was a problem. Zach wasn’t part of the popular crowd in school, and he’s a mediocre student, too. He was in some advanced classes, but he didn’t exactly shine in them.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You always did great in school.”
“I don’t know what the problem is. He’s not dumb, he’s
just not motivated. I think that’s what bothered John the most, because he was always a go-getter about everything. He expected Zach to be his little clone, and he’s not, and John wasn’t good at hiding his disappointment.”
“That’s ’cause he was a jerk. A father should love his child for what they are, not what they want them to be.”
Liz had no answer for that. She gazed at her iced tea and watched as a drop of condensation ran down the side of the glass and disappeared into the napkin below. “So how about you? How have you been doing lately?”
“Aw, you know me. Still getting by. Still working at sixty-eight years old.” He blew out a long gust of air through a narrow gap between his lips. “Lordamighty, I should be retired by now, but I’m not the only one. I got friends in the same boat, so I should quit whining.” He smiled wryly. “Soldier on.”
“You said you’re a regular here. Are you not cooking? I thought Mom taught you how before she died.”
“She did, and I cook some. You know she taught me how to grocery shop and do the laundry and all. Never did those before.” He picked up his beer again and a brief, poignant look passed over his face.
“How about cleaning? I haven’t been inside your house since we got here. I dread that. Is it a mess? Do you leave dirty dishes lying around like you used to? Mom’s not here to pick up after you anymore, and I’m not doing it for you.”
“I clean some. It’s, uh, it’s okay. I wouldn’t invite the Queen over for tea or anything, but it’s passable.”
“Is it decent enough for Zach to come over and watch TV after we eat? I need to run to the store, and he hates shopping with me. You don’t mind, do you? He’ll be too scared to stay at our house by himself.”
“It’s okay if he comes. My house is clean enough.”
“Thanks. And Dad?” She gave him a penetrating look. “No badmouthing John, all right?”
“You told me that already.”
“I know, but it’s important. Zach might resent it if you do. We’re all the family he has now, and we need to get along. Please? For my sake? And his, too?”
He returned her look with a steady one of his own. “I’ll do my best, Liz. That’s all I can promise.”