by Vickie Hall
“Can’t we come to some sort of agreement?”
He scowled. “Yeah, we already did when you signed the lease.”
Bonnie tossed her head. “Well, I’m not giving up my cat.”
The manager hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “Then you got one week to move, or I’ll evict you.”
“One week!” Bonnie gasped. “But I can’t—”
“One week, and that’s being generous. I could kick you out right now.”
Bonnie held up her hands. “No, no…please…I’ll be gone in a week.”
He started to close the door, then gave a shrug. “Sorry—it’s the policy, ya know. Nothin’ personal.”
Bonnie stared at the closed door and let out a breath. How would she find an apartment that allowed animals on such short notice? And how was she going to get her things moved? She didn’t even own a car. As Bonnie started back to her apartment, she considered contacting a moving company to see how much it would cost, but it was too late in the evening to call now. And then there was the company picnic to consider. She should skip it and start looking for an apartment, but she didn’t want to let Irene down, nor seem ungrateful by not showing up.
She decided she’d make some phone calls first thing in the morning to some of the apartments listed in the phone book to see which ones allowed pets. Then she’d go to the Hinky Dinky market and pick up the chips, grab the bus to Riverview Park, put in her appearance, then return to finding an apartment.
Bonnie went inside, and Baby Girl loped toward her in happy greeting. She picked up the cat and kissed her head. “I’m not giving you up, Baby Girl, no matter what,” she murmured. “No matter what.”
Bonnie didn’t sleep well, tossing and turning with worry. Baby Girl lay on the pillow beside her, waking whenever Bonnie moved, but not leaving. She found a measure of comfort in that, a sense of commitment from Baby Girl; as if she was telling her she wouldn’t give Bonnie up either, wouldn’t leave her alone.
When dawn began to edge over the horizon, Bonnie threw back the covers, determined to make the most of the time she had. She dressed, made some coffee and toast, fed Baby Girl, then sat down with the phone book on her lap. She had a pencil and a pad of paper at the ready and began to look up apartment buildings.
She wished she knew the city a little better. There were so many apartments, but she didn’t recognize the addresses. It would be best if she found something close to work like the Drake had been. Bonnie considered calling Christine. She’d know the proximity of the addresses, but Bonnie hadn’t called her since she’d left the Rose Building. It would be awkward to ask for help when she’d ignored her for so long.
Bonnie placed her finger on a page of the telephone book and decided to start calling, eliminating those that didn’t take pets. At least she could narrow down the options and go from there. She dialed the first number, and the phone rang without an answer. She made a note on her paper and called the next. Again, no one answered. Bonnie glanced at her watch. It was only eight o’clock. Maybe it was too early.
She shoved up from her chair and got her purse. She’d go to Hinky Dinky for the chips, then come back and try calling again. On her way out of the store, she picked up a copy of the newspaper. Maybe there would be some apartments for rent in there.
///////
Bonnie closed the phone book at eleven o’clock with a sigh. The apartments she managed to reach didn’t allow pets, and there was nothing in the newspaper that did, either. She was beginning to wonder if there was such a thing as a pet-friendly apartment. But she wouldn’t give up looking until she had exhausted every possible avenue.
She changed into a yellow cotton sundress that tied behind her neck, exposing her bare shoulders and the graceful curve of her collarbone. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she fastened it, and attached a decorative comb of colorful butterflies. She checked her makeup and applied fresh lipstick, slipped her wrist through a thick Bakelite bracelet fashioned with linking clusters of cherries, then walked through a mist of Arpege.
“What do you think?” she asked the cat as she turned in the mirror to check the back of her hair. She went to the kitchen, taking up the paper bag of potato chips and her purse. “I won’t be long, Baby Girl. Try to stay out of the window,” she called as she closed the apartment door.
Bonnie had already consulted the bus routes and climbed aboard the first of two buses she would need to take. Then she’d only have to trek a couple of blocks on foot to reach the park.
The trip took longer than she’d expected with all the stops along the way to pick up and drop off passengers, but she managed to make it there a little after noon. She saw the pavilion Irene had mentioned and began to make her way toward it. The grounds were beautiful, with carpets of lush grass, flowering shrubs, and tall trees to offer plenty of shade. She was surprised at how large t he park seemed to be, unable to see any end to it from her vantage point.
“She’s here! Bonnie’s here!” she heard from the edge of the pavilion, and saw Irene wagging her arm through the air.
Bonnie waved and watched a crowd of people flow out behind Irene as she came to greet her. “Where should I put these?” Bonnie asked, indicating the bag of chips.
Irene took them from her and handed it to one of her grandsons. “Take this over to the table,” she instructed the boy, then turned back to Bonnie. She offered a beaming smile and gave Bonnie a little hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. Let me introduce you to everyone.”
Bonnie was a little embarrassed by Irene’s unexpected hug, yet it somehow felt good to her, almost comforting. Irene started the introductions with her husband, and went through her children, their spouses, and then her grandchildren. Putting a face to the names came easily to Bonnie, and she noticed that each of the family members sported the same happy manner as Irene. This was something entirely foreign to her, something she didn’t quite know how to take. Were they really as happy as they seemed, or was it some sort of act, something they dusted off for public occasions?
Don was a tall and lanky man, his thin arm draped around Irene’s shoulder. “We’re just thrilled to meet you, Bonnie. Irene has loads of nice things to say about you.”
Bonnie blushed, still stunned by Irene’s perception of her. “Well, I think of lot of Irene, too. She’s been so kind and helpful to me.”
Irene’s oldest son snorted. “That’s Mom,” Randy said.
Randy’s wife, Doris, tipped down her sunglasses and smiled. “I love your dress, Bonnie. I wish I had a figure like yours so I could wear something that cute. I’d look like a two-pound sausage stuffed in a one-pound casing if I tried to wear it.”
Randy kissed his wife on the cheek. “Now, honey, that’s not true,” he argued. “You’d be every bit as lovely in that dress as Bonnie.”
Doris pursed her lips and shoved her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. “See why I love him?” she said teasingly.
Irene linked her arm through Bonnie’s. “Come on—Mr. Hammond has some hot dogs cooked. Are you hungry?”
Bonnie nodded. “I am. I only had toast and coffee this morning.”
“See?” Doris protested. “She only ate toast and coffee this morning. And what did I have? Eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast with jelly, and coffee. If I stopped with just toast and coffee every morning, I’d fit into that dress too.” Doris turned and walked to the pavilion.
Irene laughed. “Don’t mind Doris,” she said. “She’s always been weight conscious.”
“I think she’s perfectly lovely,” Bonnie replied. “She has a wonderful figure.”
“I think so too, but try to convince her of that.”
One of Irene’s granddaughters came up to Bonnie, her head tilted back so she could look into Bonnie’s face. “I’m Peggy,” she announced. “I’m four years old.”
Bonnie smiled. “Who do you have with you there, Peggy?” she asked, pointing to the doll in the girl’s arms.
“This is my baby,” she said.
“Does your baby have a name?”
Peggy looked thoughtful, then looked at her grandmother. “What was it again, Grandma?”
“That doll?” Irene said, thinking. “Wasn’t her name Shirley?”
Peggy squealed out a laugh. “No, Grandma it’s not Shirley.”
“It’s not?” Irene asked, feigning concern. “Then it must be Esmeralda.”
Peggy giggled again and took hold of Irene’s hand as she twirled from side to side. “It’s Betsy,” she announced.
Irene smiled and glanced at Bonnie. “Yesterday, it was Sally,” she said under her breath. She swung Peggy’s arm back and forth. “Oh, that’s right. It is Betsy.”
Peggy held up the doll to Bonnie. “Do you want to hold her? She won’t spit up on you.”
Charmed by the little girl, Bonnie took the doll and cradled it in her arms a moment. She kissed the doll’s cheek and handed it back to Peggy. “Thank you. You have a very good baby.”
“I know,” she said, then skipped off.
Irene shook her head. “Couldn’t you just eat her up?”
Something tugged at Bonnie’s heart, something that reminded her she would probably never have children of her own. “She’s adorable.”
Irene looked at Bonnie. She must have seen something in her expression. “Don’t worry. You’ll have your own someday.”
“Sure,” Bonnie managed to say.
Don arrived with a plate full of hot dogs, and the family gathered on both sides of a wooden table fitted with long benches. “Now take your plates and get in line before all your mom’s potato salad disappears.”
Bonnie took a plate and followed Irene as the others straggled in behind. She saw Mr. Hammond standing behind the table that held all the food and waved at him. His eyebrows went up and he waved back. “Good to see you, Bonnie,” he shouted over the noise. “How do you like it so far?”
Bonnie nodded. “Just fine,” she called back. “You really put on a great picnic.”
“Be sure you get a partner for the sack races,” he said with a jovial smile. “We have prizes for the winners!”
Bonnie nodded again and waved. She wasn’t planning on staying long enough to get involved in the activities. As she filled her plate, Irene called out and waved to various people, introducing Bonnie again and again until her head was swimming with names she couldn’t remember. Then she saw a familiar face as Beatrice nudged her way through the crowd. “Beatrice, hello!”
Beatrice smiled and waved excitedly. “Bonnie! Irene!” Beatrice took the hand of the man beside her and forged ahead.
“Did you get some of my potato salad?” Irene asked as Beatrice came to a stop.
“You bet I did,” Beatrice replied, nodding toward her filled plate. “Bonnie, this is my husband, Martin.”
Martin reached for Bonnie’s hand. “Hi, Bonnie. Welcome to the Kirkendall family. I’m the distribution manager. I think I’ve spoken with you on the phone already.”
Bonnie shook his hand. “Oh, sure. You must be Martin Adamson, extension 244.”
He laughed. “That’s the one. Are you having fun at the picnic? Is Irene taking good care of you?”
Bonnie had to admit she was having fun, more so than she’d had in a long time. “I am, and yes, Irene is taking very good care of me.”
Irene looked embarrassed. “We’d better get moving or Bonnie won’t get to taste my potato salad before it’s all gone.”
“All right,” Beatrice said. “We’ll see you later.”
Bonnie took her place at the table surrounded by the Orton family. She listened to their playful conversation, harmless teasing and sharing entertaining memories that seemed to flow out of them with ease. They were connected—no, it was more than that, Bonnie thought. They were united in a way she’d never seen before. If one of them laughed, they all laughed. If one of them hurt, they all hurt. There was something miraculous in it, she observed, something warm and comforting about their interaction, their consideration, their love for one another. That’s what it was, she decided. They truly loved one another. And here she was in the middle of all of it, their love spilling onto her as well.
As they finished up the meal and the family began drifting from the table to join in the games, Bonnie waited until only Irene and Don remained. The three of them began gathering the plates and paper cups half full of lemonade. “Irene, do you know of any apartments that allow pets? A cat?”
“I don’t think so. Don?”
Don thrust out his lips and peered up at the roof of the pavilion. “Well, not that I can think of.”
Irene faced Bonnie, a stack of empty cups in her hands. “Why do you ask?”
Bonnie didn’t want to burden them with her troubles. She just wanted to know about an apartment. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, stacking plates together.
Irene put the cups back on the table and placed her hand on Bonnie’s arm. “It’s not nothing or you wouldn’t have asked. Now tell me what happened.”
Bonnie sighed, her eyes gliding from Irene to Don and back again. The looks on their faces mirrored concern and it touched her, made her want to tell them. “I found this little kitten. She was trapped in a drain pipe.”
“Oh no,” Irene gasped, bringing her hand to her lips.
“I got her out and took her home and I’ve had her ever since. I just learned that my apartment building doesn’t allow pets and the manager told me I had to get rid of the cat or leave. Ijust can’t give her up now—I love her too much.” Bonnie sniffed back a tear, somewhat perturbed that her emotions were rising to the surface. “That’s why I need to find a new place to live, and I only have a week to do it.”
Don glanced at Irene. She nodded, and Don looked back to Bonnie. “We have a basement with two bedrooms in it. Why don’t you stay with us until you find a new place? There’s just Irene and me now, so there’s plenty of room.”
Bonnie shook her head, her ponytail swinging back and forth. “No, no, I couldn’t do that—”
“You sure can,” Irene insisted. “And I won’t take no for an answer. You and your kitty are welcome at our place.”
“Darn right,” Don added. “You can move in tomorrow. I’ve got a pickup truck at home. I’ll bring my sons with me and we’ll have you moved in before you know it. Heck,” he said as an afterthought, “we could move you today, if you want. We can get some boxes from the grocer and swing by after the picnic. We’ll make it a family affair.”
Overwhelmed, Bonnie covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. She didn’t deserve their kindness, their generosity. She wasn’t worthy of it. Bonnie felt Irene’s arms slide around her as she would one of her own children. Tears kept falling—she couldn’t control them.
“Here now,” Irene said softly, rubbing her hand along Bonnie’s arm. “There’s no need for tears. It’s a tiny bedroom, I’ll admit, but you’ll be comfortable in it.”
Bonnie felt a laugh escape at Irene’s attempt at humor. She leaned back and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “But why would you do this for me?”
Irene smiled and cupped Bonnie’s chin. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s what friends do for each other.”
Chapter 15
Bonnie stood in stunned astonishment as Don orchestrated his family. There was no questioning, no complaining, no turning away. All Don had said was that Bonnie needed their help, and it was as if a light switch had been turned on. Everyone delegated themselves to a task. Doris would take all the children to Irene’s house and keep an eye on them. The men were to round up boxes and Don’s pickup truck, while the rest of the women would head to Bonnie’s apartment to begin packing.
Bonnie couldn’t believe what was happening, that so many strangers would come together to help her. She felt truly humbled by their generosity. They all had lives of their own to lead, families to care for, things she was certain they’d rather be doing. And yet, here they were, stopping everything to help her as though she was the most important person
in their lives.
Irene drove her sedan from the park with her daughter Ann in the front, Bonnie and Candy in the back seat. “Mom,” Ann said during a lull in the conversation, “do you remember that cat we had when I was really little?”
“You mean Mr. Digit?”
“Mr. Digit?” Candy exclaimed. “What kind of name is that?”
Irene laughed. “The kind six-and eight-year-old boys come up with. The cat had extra toes on
each paw—you know, extra digits. Their dad was teasing them about the cat after they found the poor thing. Said it had too many digits for a cat.”
“Found it?” Ann laughed. “Knowing Randy and Ralph, they probably found it on someone’s front porch and coaxed it home.”
Irene extended her arm out the open window, signaling for a left turn. “No, I really think it was lost,” she said, bringing her arm inside to turn the oversized steering wheel. “I asked around the neighborhood before I let them keep it.”
“So you’ve had cats before?” Bonnie asked.
“Cats, dogs, hamsters, parakeets, turtles,” Ann replied, turning her head back to Bonnie. “Have I forgotten anything, Mom?”
“I don’t think we can count the garter snakes and frogs your brothers used to bring home,” Irene said, smiling. “I made them let those loose in the back yard.”
After a few minutes, Irene pointed to the apartment complex up the street. “Is this it?”
“Yes,” Bonnie said, leaning over the seat. “I’m in that building there.”
Irene parked, set the brake, and turned off the engine. “The men should be here shortly,” she said, opening the car door. “Let’s get organized before they come.”
Bonnie led the women upstairs to the fourth floor. She pushed the key into the lock and eased the door open, looking for the cat. Irene, Ann, and Candy hurried in so Bonnie could close the door.
Irene saw Baby Girl sleeping in Bonnie’s chair. She picked up the yawning cat, held her out, and inspected her. “You little troublemaker,” she said jokingly. Irene turned to Bonnie. “Oh, she’s darling, Bonnie.”
Ann approached and started petting the kitten’s head. “Look how cute she is,” she gushed.