No Return Address

by Gail Anderson-Dargatz

  I carefully folded Mom’s letter and picked up the yo-yo again. I tried to do a trick called Rock the Baby, holding the string with both hands to make a triangle. The yo-yo was supposed to hang in the middle of the triangle and spin to look like a rocking cradle. But my fingers got all caught up in the string. I tried again, but I just couldn’t get it. I wound up the string and put the yo-yo on Mom’s letter.

  I sat for a time in my neatly ordered kitchen, trying to make sense of her letter. I kept my house uncluttered because seeing everything in its place made me feel calm. But my tidy house didn’t offer me peace of mind now. Even a year after her death, Mom was still meddling in my life. But what was she up to exactly?

  THREE

  I TRIED WORKING after I’d opened the package from my mother. But I couldn’t focus on bookkeeping. The numbers just got jumbled in my head, and I kept making mistakes.

  I finally gave up and organized the kitchen shelves. Then I tidied the bathroom and my bedroom. I vacuumed the living room floor, even though I’d just done that on Tuesday. I even did my son’s laundry and made his bed, though I knew I shouldn’t. He needed to do his own chores. In any case, he didn’t like me messing with his things. Still, I couldn’t help myself. I always cleaned house when I was upset.

  When Cody got home from school I was back sitting at the kitchen table. My mother’s letter was open in front of me.

  “Hey,” he said, closing the kitchen door behind him. “What’s up, Mom?You okay?You look kind of out of it.”

  I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “I got a package today from Grandma,” I said. “I’m just trying to sort out what her letter means.”

  “You got a letter from Grandma?” Cody dropped his backpack to the floor and took a seat at the table. “You’re kidding me.”

  “No, for real. Look.” I handed him the letter. He read it and then picked up the yo-yo. “Cool,” he said. “My grandma’s a zombie!”

  “That’s not funny,” I said. “Be respectful.” But I smiled nevertheless.

  “Who really sent it?” Cody asked.

  “I have no idea. There was no return address.” I thought for a moment. “I suppose it could have been Doug. He and Mom might have been in on it together. Maybe it was their idea of a joke. I could see them cooking up something like this. Doug was always Mom’s favorite.”

  Cody slung the yo-yo to the floor and spun it back up. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “Doug is like Mom — a free spirit. He doesn’t take life seriously any more than she did. He’s well into his forties and he still races go-karts, for heaven’s sake. He’s always playing around like a kid.” I shrugged. “I guess I took after Dad.”

  Cody gave me a look, like he didn’t buy that. “You’re more like Grandma than you think,” he said. “Anyway, why would Uncle Doug mail his yo-yo to you? It makes no sense.”

  “None of this makes sense.” I held out my hand, and Cody gave me back the toy. “Why would my mother send this yo-yo, of all things?” I held it for a moment, thinking of trying it out again. Instead I dropped it in the box. “I should forget the whole thing,” I said. “Maybe I’ll just toss this yo-yo into the attic with the rest of Mom’s stuff.”

  Cody shook his head. “You know you have to deliver the yo-yo to Uncle Doug, Mom.” He tapped the letter. “It was Grandma’s last wish.” Then he wiggled his fingers in my face and spoke with a spooky voice. “If you don’t deliver the yo-yo to Uncle Doug, Grandma will haunt you!”

  I gave him a gentle push to get him to stop. “But why now? Why a year after her death?”

  “Who knows? Grandma was a little eccentric, always doing crazy things. Remember the time she covered herself in gray paint and pretended to be a statue by the art gallery? She stood so still she really looked like one too. People passing by freaked when she moved.”

  I laughed at the memory despite myself. “She sure did like to mess with people’s minds,” I said. I held up the letter. “Even mine.”

  “Nah. Grandma just wanted to make people laugh. She liked to shake them up a bit so they weren’t so stiff.” Cody held my eye for a moment, like he was talking about me. Then he grabbed the yo-yo again and spun it down. “Anyway, it’s pretty clear what she’s up to now.”

  “Oh?” I said.

  He flicked the yo-yo back up. “Grandma wants you and Uncle Doug to talk to each other. That’s why she wants you to deliver this yo-yo to him.”

  “We talk.”

  “You haven’t seen Uncle Doug since Grandma’s funeral. And you guys weren’t exactly getting along before that.”

  I fidgeted with the letter. “I’m embarrassed that you noticed,” I said.

  “How could I not notice? You stopped visiting Doug, and he stopped coming over. I never see him anymore.”

  “Honey, families aren’t like what you see on TV. Doug and I may have grown up together, but that doesn’t mean we like each other now.”

  “Yeah, I know. But you and Uncle Doug did get along before you and Dad split up. Doug was over at our place all the time.”

  Cody was right. My ex-husband and my brother had been friends long before I married Glen. In fact, I had met Glen through my brother, at a party at Doug’s place.

  After Glen and I divorced my brother kept up his friendship with Glen. Like I said, that made me mad. No, that hurt. My brother went over to Glen’s place but didn’t come to ours. I felt like Doug had picked Glen over me. But I was Doug’s sister.

  “Uncle Doug used to take me fishing,” Cody said. “We played games on my gaming console all the time. He was fun. I miss him.”

  I sat back to think about that. Was my resentment over Doug’s friendship with Glen hurting my son? Was I stopping Cody from seeing his uncle? “I’m sorry that Doug and I aren’t close anymore,” I said. “I’m just not sure what to do about it.”

  Cody dropped the yo-yo in my hand. “Start by taking this over to Uncle Doug like Grandma asked. Work things out. Maybe then I can race go-karts with him again.”

  I eyed my son. “Did Grandma put you up to this? Are you the one who mailed this package?”

  “No!”

  I didn’t think he was lying, but then, he was teenage boy. Only the week before he had eaten an entire frozen cake in one sitting. He’d then denied it, even though the crumbs were all over his T-shirt. And the cake container was sitting at his feet. And his mouth was covered in chocolate.

  “I swear, Mom, it wasn’t me,” he said. “I didn’t send Grandma’s package to you.”

  “Well, it sure as heck wasn’t my mother.” I thought for a moment. “Then it must have been Lisa who sent it,” I said. “Mom would have asked her to.”

  “And Auntie is the only one in our family crazy enough to do it,” Cody said.

  I laughed. “You may be right. They were sisters, after all.” I tossed the yo-yo and caught it again. “I’m going to have a little chat with her,” I said. I put the yo-yo and letter in the box. “You okay making supper for yourself? I think I’ll head into town now to see her.”

  “Finally!” said Cody.

  “What do you mean?”

  Cody made a face like I should know exactly what he meant. “It’s not just Uncle Doug you’ve been avoiding. You haven’t seen Auntie Lisa for a while either, Mom.”

  I waved that off. “I’ve just been busy.”

  “No, you’ve been depressed.”

  I sat back. “I know I look sad today. It’s the anniversary of my mother’s death. It’s only natural that I would feel down.”

  Cody shook his head. “No, you’ve been miserable for longer than that. Ever since Grandma died you’ve been keeping to yourself. You hardly go out anymore.” He lowered his voice as if someone might hear. “And Mom, some days you don’t brush your hair.”

  I glanced in the mirror by the kitchen door and patted my hair into place. “I’ve been trying to build my bookkeeping business,” I said. “I work with most of my clients by email. I don’t have to get
dressed to go out.”

  “You’ve been hiding,” said Cody.

  “Hiding? From what?”

  Cody shrugged. “You tell me, Mom.”

  I took a long look at my son. He was a smart kid, maybe too smart for my liking at the moment. He would graduate from high school the following year and then head to university. He was about to go off on his own to start his adult life. I knew that was for the best.

  Still, the thought of him moving out made me feel lonely. My marriage had ended. My mother had died. I knew people in the community but couldn’t think of anyone I wanted to share a pot of tea with. In that moment I realized just how lonely I was. My son was right. I had been sad for a long time. And I had been hiding, but from what?

  “If you’re going into town, will you stop at Uncle Doug’s place too?” Cody asked. “Can I come with you? I’d really like to see him again.”

  “I want to talk to Lisa about Mom’s package first,” I said. “I need to know what this is all about. Then maybe I’ll take the yo-yo to Doug another day.”

  “Can I go with you to see him then?”

  I paused to take in the look on my son’s face. He really was missing his uncle. “We’ll see,” I said.

  FOUR

  I DROVE TO Lisa’s place that evening. Both she and my brother, Doug, lived in the same town, a half-hour drive from my village. As Cody had said, I rarely visited her anymore. I had always gone to her place with my mother. I knew I should see more of her, but I just never got around to it.

  Still, I sometimes felt I had more in common with my aunt than with my mother. Lisa was practical and sensible in a way my mother never was. She worked as an accountant, helping business owners make sense of their finances, their money matters. I also worked with numbers in my bookkeeping business.

  I pushed the doorbell. Lisa opened the door. “Rhonda!” she said. “It’s so good to see you!”

  I held up the parcel from my mother. “Did you send this?” I asked.

  My aunt laughed. “Well, hello to you too!”

  I handed her the small box. “Did you?”

  “What is it?” She opened it and pulled out the letter. “Oh!” she said when she realized who had written it. She tucked the box under her arm and read the letter as she walked down the hall.

  I followed, closing the door behind me. “You didn’t send it?” I asked.

  “It’s from your mother!”

  “I know. But I only received it today, on the anniversary of her death. And the package was postmarked this week. Someone else must have sent it.”

  She peered at me over her glasses. “Well, it wasn’t me.”

  “Who then?”

  “How should I know?” She put the box on the table. “I was going to call you this evening. I knew it would be a hard day for you — for us both. She sighed. “Sit, and I’ll make us tea.”

  She put the kettle on as I sat at the round kitchen table. Lisa must have just come home from work. She was still dressed in a navy-blue suit jacket and skirt. But she had kicked off her heels and put on a pair of pink bunny slippers.

  “Mom didn’t tell you she was sending that package before she died?” I asked.

  “No! This is the first I’ve heard of it.” Lisa pulled the yo-yo out of the box. “But this is so like her, isn’t it?” She held up the toy. “Trust Meg to send you a yo-yo from beyond the grave.”

  “She wants me to deliver it to Doug,” I said.

  “I see that.”

  “Why didn’t she just give it to him before she died? Or send it to him instead?”

  “Oh, Rhonda, you know exactly why.”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t look at her. “She wanted me to talk to Doug.”

  Lisa put the yo-yo in my hand and clasped both of hers around it. “She wanted you to mend things with your brother,” she said. “And get over whatever hurt there is between you. Isn’t it about time?”

  I didn’t answer. The thought of facing my brother made me uncomfortable. I just wasn’t sure I was ready. I changed the subject. “Do you have any idea who might have put this box in the mail?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Does it really matter who mailed it?”

  “It matters to me.” I paused. “I want to know who Mom trusted with this last wish. I was hoping it was you. You’re her sister.”

  “And if it was someone other than me who sent the package on Meg’s behalf?”

  “Then Mom trusted that person more than me.”

  My aunt put her hand on my arm. “Oh, honey. Is that what you think?”

  I waved the letter. “Here she is, trying to teach me one of her lessons. It’s like —” I paused as I struggled to make sense of my feelings. “It’s like I’m just another one of her students. And whoever sent this was closer to Mom than I was.”

  “And that hurts.”

  I nodded, staring down at the letter. When she said the words out loud, I realized how childish they sounded. But that was how I felt. “After the divorce I only had Mom and Cody,” I said to explain myself. “Now I only have Cody. I don’t have any friends.”

  “Have you tried to make any?”

  “Making friends is much harder when you’re older and have a kid,” I said. “I don’t have time to meet new people.”

  “Well, you’ll just need to make the time.” Lisa got up and made tea, and then carried the teapot and cups to the table.

  “You think it was Doug who sent the package for Mom?” I asked. I hesitated. “Was Mom closer to him than me?”

  Lisa didn’t answer right away. She went to the fridge for a small jug of milk. Her silence made me feel unsure of myself.

  “Doug didn’t help out at all when Mom was sick, you know,” I said. “I was there for every one of Mom’s doctor’s appointments.”

  My aunt sat in the chair right beside me so she could wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Listen, I can’t tell you who sent that package. But I can tell you what really matters here.” She tapped the letter. “Meg can’t be here anymore, so she wants you and Doug to be there for each other.” She paused. “And for Cody.

  I pulled away. “I’m always there for Cody,” I said.

  “Of course, you are,” Lisa said. “But Cody needs men in his life too.”

  “He sees his father. He stays with Glen every second weekend.”

  “From what you’ve told me, Glen has started a new family. That’s got to be hard on Cody.”

  “It is. Cody isn’t Glen’s main focus now. His wife and new baby are. Cody says he often feels like an outsider when he goes there.” I swallowed hard. I still felt jealous that Glen had a new family, even though we’d been divorced for several years now.

  “Rhonda, Doug could offer Cody a lot. The boy could use an uncle, especially now.” My aunt smiled. “I’d like to think I’ve offered you a fair amount over the years.”

  I took Lisa’s hand. “You have.”

  She had helped me start my bookkeeping business. She’d sent clients my way and given me advice. That had meant a lot, especially when my mother couldn’t understand why I wanted to be a bookkeeper. She’d thought it was a dull job. But I liked working with numbers. I could make sense of them. That was comforting. Especially when the rest of my life was so often chaotic and messy.

  “Cody wants to go with me to Doug’s place when I deliver the yo-yo,” I said.

  “Maybe this first visit should be between you and your brother. You don’t want Cody listening in as you work things out.”

  “You’re probably right.” I waved the letter. “I’m embarrassed my mother had to do this. Give me a push from the grave just to go see my brother.”

  “Sometimes the people we love know us better than we know ourselves.”

  I nodded, thinking of what my son had said. “Cody told me I’ve been hiding.”

  “Hiding? From what?”

  I shrugged. “He said I need to answer that question for myself.”

  Lisa hugged me with both arms this time, as she had
when I was a child. And for a moment I felt like a girl wrapped in a mother’s hug. “You need to go see your brother today. Before you chicken out,” she said.

  But I felt panic at the idea. “Now you sound like Mom,” I said.

  Lisa sat back. “How so?”

  “She was always telling me how to live my life. She kept pushing me to do things I didn’t want to do.”

  “She was your mother.” Lisa shooed me away with both hands. “Now go. See your brother. Take him his yo-yo.”

  I grinned — the whole thing sounded so silly. “Okay, I’ll go. I’ll take Doug his damn yo-yo.” I put the letter and yo-yo in the box and slipped it back into my purse. “But not now. I’ve had enough emotion for one day. And I’m sure Doug is out with his buddies.”

  My aunt put her hand on my shoulder. “No, honey. You’re not putting this visit off any longer. Today is the anniversary of your mother’s death. You need to go see your brother now.”

  FIVE

  WHEN DOUG OPENED his apartment door he looked surprised to see me. “Rhonda!” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a girl visit her brother?” I said.

  “It’s just been a while.” He was dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. His feet were bare. When he saw me glance at his outfit he said, “Sorry about my getup. I just got out of the shower. I planned on lounging around this evening.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in like this,” I said.

  “No, of course not. Come in.”

  He stepped back to let me enter and closed the door behind me. The kitchen and living room were one open space. Doug kept his weight set in the living room part. He didn’t own a couch. Instead a recliner sat in front of the big-screen TV. There was an empty pizza box on the coffee table in front of the chair. Chip bags littered the floor around it.

  As I followed him inside he picked up several pairs of socks from the floor. “Sorry about the mess,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting a visitor tonight.” Or this week, I thought. He hadn’t cleaned the place for several days. The room smelled stale, like old food and sweaty socks.