Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Jolie
“ O h, look, Mutt and Jeff are here,” Arya sleepily mumbles as I get her tucked in on the couch.
I grab the remote, flip through the channels and put it on one of the kid’s stations, the volume low, so she has some background noise.
I know she’s probably minutes from falling asleep as I lean down and kiss her forehead.
“They’ll keep you company as you nap, sweetie,” I reply. “I’ll be out on the back porch with Dex if you need anything, okay?”
In a whispering, gravelly voice she replies, “Mmhm. I’m sorry, Jolie.”
“For what?” I question, staring down at her.
“Because I got sick.”
“That’s definitely not your fault. Some people are more prone to catching something than others, and it sounds like that’s you where strep throat is concerned.
You’ll start feeling better in a few days.
Dex or I will go by the school and see if we can get any classwork for you so you don’t fall behind and can get caught up once you feel better. ”
“Okay. I don’t like missing school,” she murmurs. “We always have a lot of fun.”
I smile down at her because she’s one of those rarities of the world.
She plays full out when she’s home and is into everything, like most kids, but she thrives at school.
She’s got a lot of friends and is always one of the first ones chosen to be another child’s partner because of how easygoing she is with everyone.
“I know, and you’ll be back on your feet and there with your classmates before you know it, I promise. Now, how about you get some rest so the medicine can start working.”
“Alright.” As I turn to walk away, I hear her whisper, “I’m really glad Dex married you.”
Shaking my head because surely I heard her wrong, I leave the room and head to the kitchen where I find Abuela and Nonna sitting at the table going over the month’s calendar with one of them adding activities as the other calls them out.
As usual, even with the canned goods cooling on the racks, and the soup simmering on low on the back burner of the stove, the kitchen is meticulously spotless.
I can hear the dryer going from the mudroom as the washer apparently hits the rinse cycle and grin.
After all the walking this past weekend, none of the kids was interested in hitting the stores for new clothes, so Dex and I went online with each one of them and ordered what they needed.
The boxes started coming last night and were immediately opened so the stuff could be washed and sanitized.
Dyes are harsh on skin, and since the kids have enough issues, we didn’t want to add to the list of concerns.
Considering we bought full wardrobes for three kids, it’s a lot.
But the grandmothers are on it and will have them pressed and folded before the day ends.
“Do you want me to take a basket outside and fold it?” I ask as I reach into the refrigerator for two bottled waters before I pick up my burgeoning notebook and a pen.
“No, mija,” Abuela says, glancing at me. “We have a system for all these new clothes. Plus, Dex needs to know what Albert found today.”
My shoulders slump because I know he has no clue how invasive the battle is that we’re going to be facing.
It wouldn’t be so difficult but he’s somewhat on borrowed time right now where work is concerned.
One of these days, his phone is going to ring, and he’ll have to head out, leaving me with all the insanity.
But you’re coming to enjoy it, my mind whispers, voicing my feelings aloud in my head to where I can’t ignore them. Face it, you’ve been lonely for a very long time.
I have been, if I’m being honest with myself.
Outside of the minimal conversations with Dale whenever I handle a job at one of his sites, and of course, Mindy, unless I’m substitute teaching, I can sometimes go most of the day living in silence without talking to anyone outside of the mumbling I do with myself. Here, that’s never an issue whatsoever.
“Well, the offer still stands,” I reply.
“Oh, and make sure y’all put your bingo nights on the calendar as well.
Maybe we need two calendars,” I muse. “One for all of our activities, and one for who’s cooking.
Don’t forget, we’d like to start having a leftover Friday, so the fridges are ready for our grocery store haul on Saturday.
Plus, the kids would like to cook with supervision of course on Saturday night, and because of church on Sunday, we’re going to start eating out on that day. ”
“Such a waste of food,” Nonna murmurs. “We are perfectly capable of cooking, dolcezza.”
“We’re both well-aware that y’all can cook, but I agree with Dex. Sundays should be a day of rest and recharge for all of us and that includes y’all. And don’t think when he has to go to work that we’ll go back to how it’s been because I’m perfectly capable of taking all of us out as well.”
Since both women look like they’re gearing up to argue with me, I wave the bottles in the air as much as I can since my notebook is tucked under my arm and say, “Dex is waiting for me. I better let him know what Albert found.”
I’m giggling a little bit as I step onto the back porch which has Dex asking, “What’s so funny?”
Instead of answering him, I hand him a bottle of water, set mine as well as my notebook and pen on the table that’s situated between the two chairs and pull out my phone. “I’ll tell you in a second. Do you know if we have access to a patient portal for the kids at their pediatrician?” I question.
“No fucking clue, to be honest,” he replies.
“Okay, give me a minute, I want to check something.” I call the pediatrician’s office and when the phone is answered, I put the phone on speaker then say, “Hello, this is Jolie Armstrong. My husband brought his sister, Arya, in earlier today and I have a question.”
The woman, who identifies herself as Nancy, asks, “What’s the question, Mrs. Armstrong?”
“Well, I know we sent in the paperwork showing that we have guardianship of the three kids. Do y’all have a patient portal by any chance?
If so, can I give you my email address so you can send me a link?
Because from what Dex’s grandmothers have said, Arya’s had multiple cases of strep throat and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t time for her to go to an ENT for follow-up to rule out having her tonsils and adenoids removed. ”
“We do have one. Go ahead and give me your email address and I’ll send you the link. Will you both need access?”
I look at Dex who nods and reply, “Yes, but we’ll use the same log-in information to make life easier for all of us. I know there’s a good chance at some point he’ll be out of town for work, and I’ll have to come in, so I might as well get familiar with things.”
I quickly rattle off the email address that I created for us to use for the kids, which we’ve already provided to the school.
That way, they don’t get lost in his email because he seldom checks them which I was stunned to find out, and while I do, it’s typically not every day.
Having a centralized one for the kids now, I have a daily reminder on my phone to check that email specifically, so we don’t miss out on any upcoming school events, like the standardized testings, or PTA meetings, that sort of thing.
Plus, their teachers have another way to contact us as well.
She giggles and I raise my brow at Dex when he chuckles while nodding. “Okay, it’s been sent. Please call and let us know if there are any issues with logging in or understanding the medical jargon and terminology.”
“I will. Thank you so much for your help, Nancy.”
Once I hang up, I do a quick search for a weekday menu chart and find the perfect one that will attach to the front of the refrigerator. With a few clicks, I purchase it and put my phone down then say, “Good, that’s done too, and it’ll be here tomorrow.”
Dex starts chuckling and I’d be an idiot not to admit that I enjoy the rich sound. “What?” I ask.
“Sweetheart, in less than ten minutes, you came out, handed me a bottle of water, called the pediatrician and got them to send us a portal link for the kids’ medical charts, then you ordered something.
And you did all of that while I was just sitting here.
You’re a force to be reckoned with, Jolie Armstrong. ”
I can feel my face heating up, blushing at his praise. It’s something I haven’t heard too much of since Grampy’s been gone, but I’ve noticed that Dex is quick to do it to all of us. “Why do you do that?” At his questioning look, I add, “Praise all of us when we do something.”
His startled expression has me giggling as he thinks about what I just said. “I think it’s because I always want y’all to know that you can do anything you set your mind to do. Especially you. I’m impressed that you seem to constantly roll with the punches, Jolie.”
Shrugging, I reply, “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” I’m unable to decipher the look he’s giving me right now, so I pick up my notebook and pen and ask, “You ready to hear what Albert has to say about the house?”
I swear, my notebook, which is one of those old-timey steno pads that secretaries used to use, is filled to the brim with all the lists I have with regard to the houses, this one and the farmhouse.
I have another portable one I use when I go to the store, but this is my master so to speak.
I create to-do lists with supplies I need or tasks to complete and when they’re bought or even finished, I cross them off.
Once it starts looking really crazy, I rewrite it so it’s fresh and clean.
In short, it never really goes away per se, but I feel better knowing I’m as organized as possible.
“Hit me with it, sweetheart,” he says, sending a delicious thrill through me.
Get a grip, Jo!
Flipping to that page in my notebook, I glance at him, take a deep breath and state, “The house has black mold, Dex. Which is bad, very, very bad.”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Where? All over or–?”
“Well, it apparently started at the additions where the ground wasn’t completely level, which allowed water to seep inside.
He found evidence from the basement to the attic and of course, without cutting out sections of drywall, he doesn’t know if it goes into the studs, the subflooring, or anything else.
But he suspects it has based on his experience.
Oh! He asked if anyone has noticed an uptick in nasal congestion or even rashes since it can make you sick, especially if you have a sensitivity to it. ”
“I know I’ve been somewhat stuffy since coming home but assumed it was the change in climate,” he muses.
“Yeah, I’m the same,” I admit. “Okay, so he recommends a professional mold remediation company come in and do a more thorough inspection since there are areas he wasn’t able to confirm.
Like I said, though, based on his experience, the whole house is contaminated, which means there are spores everywhere. ”
“What are we going to do? Abuela deals with asthma,” he asks.
“People with respiratory issues are more susceptible to illness,” I reply. “Dex, we can’t stay here, it’s not healthy for anyone.”
“I really didn’t want to uproot the kids if at all possible because of what happened. The last thing they need to deal with is a new school on top of everything else. What are you suggesting? And how long would it take for them to get it taken care of?”
I sigh then reply, “It could take years. Apparently, it started with the additions and has, of course, spread unchecked.”
“Fuck,” he grumbles.
“We uh, we can stay at the farmhouse. It’s got more than enough room. Plus, when Grammy got sick, Grampy built a small, two-bedroom mother-in-law suite that’s attached to the house by a covered walkway which would work for Abuela and Nonna,” I say.
“But I thought you were renovating?” he questions.
“I am, but it’s more along the lines of upgrading the kitchen, refreshing the walls with a new coat of paint, and sanding and then refinishing the hardwood floors,” I reply.
“We can live there while I’m completing those tasks.
I can get them done quickly so there’s not any interruptions to anybody’s daily lives. ”
“Let’s go look at it and see if we can get this done as quickly as possible then. I’m sure they won’t want us to take the majority of our things, right?”
I nod in agreement. “He mentioned that it would be better to leave it all behind since mold spores are tiny and pervasive. But, he also said that glassware items and non-porous materials should be safe. So, no clothes, papers, that kind of thing, and furniture items would need to wait until after the remediation was complete to see if they’re salvageable or not.
Albert also said that sometimes, it’s just easier to start from scratch. ”
“Good thing I’ve got money saved up and my folks had life insurance policies,” he quips. “As soon as the kids’ new things are dried and folded, we need to put them in a sealed container and carry them out to the car, so they aren’t exposed.”