16
I woke up at five, tiptoeing around my room as if the sound of the water running in the shower wouldn’t be audible to anyone who was awake.
But after I showered, I poked my head into the hall, still wearing my towel, and the house was silent.
So I applied my makeup and dressed, then crept down the stairs to—
My shoulders sagged in defeat. I forgot I didn’t have a functioning kitchen when I devised the plan to show Ruth I could do everything myself. But I fixed my posture. This wouldn’t defeat me.
Instead, I slipped my keys from the hook by the kitchen door and went out to the carport, closing the door softly behind me.
By the time I returned with breakfast in tinfoil containers from Hot Shoppes, Ruth was placing bowls of cold cereal in front of the children, who were staring at the hole in the wall behind the stove, Susie with a wary expression and Bobby with one of awe.
“No need for a cold breakfast,” I said brightly, holding up the bags.
Bobby whooped and handed his bowl off to Ruth, who looked nonplussed at the wasting of food.
“Did you get me pancakes?” Bobby asked, crowding me to peer into the bags.
I ruffled his hair, then pointed at his chair, which he obediently sat in. “Of course. I know your order, sweetheart.”
“Can we go eat there tomorrow?”
I smiled at the same memory that I knew drove the question.
On Sunday mornings, Harry would grin at the kids and say, “Should we—?” He never had to finish the sentence before they both jumped on him and screamed, “Go to Hot Shoppes!” It was a treat beyond measure for them and a break from cooking for me.
And a tradition that I should have maintained these last two years, but I hadn’t.
With my mother there, I had a built-in cooking break, and those first few months, it just felt too raw.
But now that I could smile at the memory instead of cry, it was a good way to honor their recollections of Harry.
“The new stove is arriving today, so let’s try that out tomorrow morning. Besides, tomorrow is a school day. But what if we started going on Sundays again?”
“Won’t it be too sad?” Susie asked.
I slid a plate in front of her with a waffle on it, then handed her the syrup. “Not if we don’t look at it that way,” I said lightly. “Daddy would have wanted us to still go to his favorite breakfast spot.”
Susie nodded, then cut a piece and took a bite. “I think that’s true.”
Ruth was sitting at her seat at the kitchen table and had a spoonful of Bobby’s cereal halfway to her mouth when I placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.
“Nothing like a hot breakfast,” I said, smiling brightly.
She eyed me suspiciously. We hadn’t exactly parted on good terms the night before.
But I merely whisked the bowl of cereal away and dumped it in the trash, bringing the bowl to the sink to rinse.
I waited to see if she would argue about the wasted food, but she didn’t.
It wasn’t like you could save cereal once it had milk in it.
Though I was sure Ruth would be willing to try.
Once the children had finished eating, I told them to go get ready for school, while I packed their lunches.
“I can do that,” Ruth said.
“It’s no bother at all,” I trilled. “You just go put your feet up.”
She crossed her arms, looking like she was ready for a fight, but she stayed in the kitchen watching me until the puppy barked to come in at the back door, at which point she went to retrieve her.
I grinned broadly as I slathered peanut butter and jelly onto slices of bread.
She and I were nothing alike. My best on my own was enough for my kids.
Yes, we all missed Harry. But she was no Harry.
She would see quickly how capable I was.
And then—I glanced at the calendar on the refrigerator—we’d find her a place to live and start again. On our own this time.
But for now, that gaping hole in the wall needed fixing. I reached for the telephone and dialed Janet’s number, cradling the receiver between my ear and shoulder as I continued making lunches.
“Hello?” George answered.
“It’s Barbara,” I said by way of greeting. His voice became muffled as he called for Janet. Honestly, there was no point to him even answering the phone. We were the only ones who called each other before eight in the morning.
“How bad is your kitchen?” Janet asked immediately—I had told her about the fire when we picked up the kids from school. “Do you want to come for breakfast? Should I get my shovel ready? Ooh, if we make the hole big enough, we can put in a pool!”
Tension immediately drained from my shoulders.
Just hearing Janet’s voice had that effect.
“I picked up breakfast,” I said, answering out of order.
“There’s no history of Jews haunting people if you build things on top of their graves, but I’d still feel bad swimming in a pool made that way.
And the new stove comes today, but the wall behind it is much worse than Ruth let on—do you remember who painted the kids’ bedrooms?
And do you think he can patch a pretty big chunk of wall? ”
“I’ll call him for you. Will Ruth be there today if he can come take a look?”
“I will. I’m staying home to make sure the stove gets installed properly.” I walked to where the kitchen met the hall, stretching the cord with me, to make sure she wasn’t around the corner listening in. “So any time works—but the new stove is coming between twelve and two.”
“He can always pull the stove out,” Janet said. “What a mess though. Does this mean you can send her home?”
I stayed in the doorway, an eye on the stairs, and relayed the saga of Ruth losing her house.
Janet gasped. “What are you going to do?”
“Enact plan B.”
“Marrying her off?”
I chuckled. “No. I’m turning to Shakespeare like you did to get rid of your mother-in-law. I’m going to tame the shrew—or in my case, make her feel entirely useless until she leaves.”
Janet didn’t laugh though. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Won’t you feel bad doing that when she doesn’t have a place to go?”
“She can go to her sister in Boston,” I said.
“Or I will rent her an apartment with my money from the hospital.” But I couldn’t keep the defensive tone out of my voice.
On the one hand, I didn’t care if she moved in with the devil himself as long as it got her out of my house.
On the other ... I glanced at the ceiling and shook my head.
I had never once been on the receiving end of Harry’s disappointed gaze, and I didn’t like feeling that I was now.
Janet definitely heard the edge in my voice.
“Maybe,” she said lightly. “But don’t Katherine and Petruchio fall in love in the end?
Be careful or you’ll wind up keeping her until she dies.
” There was a muffled voice in the background.
“What? They know people die.” Janet huffed at me.
“George doesn’t want me talking about death in front of the kids. ”
“Janet!” I said. “Don’t talk about this in front of them—you know they’ll talk to Bobby and Susie.”
“It’s just Paula. It’s fine. You can barely understand anything she says anyway.”
George said Janet’s name loudly, and I laughed.
“I’ll send the painter over,” Janet promised. “Gotta run. George is shooting daggers at me.”
I hung up and glanced at the ceiling again. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “I’m not going to be mean. I’m just going to make sure she knows I can handle this and suggest a nice long visit with her sister or some space of her own. Besides, it’s not like you ever wanted her to live with us!”
“Who are you talking to?” Susie asked.
I jumped. “No one,” I said. “Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes, Mama,” she said.
We’ll finish this conversation later, I thought at the ceiling. That was the one plus of speaking to someone who wasn’t actually there—he could hear me without my having to speak out loud.
I just wished he could talk back and help me feel better about all this.
Once the children were ready for school, I slipped Pepper’s leash onto her collar and called to Ruth that I was going to walk Pepper while I dropped the kids off.
“I can walk the dog,” she said, coming down the stairs and reaching for the leash, but I held it firmly.
“Nonsense,” I said. “This is a good walk for her, and like you said, a tired puppy is a well-behaved puppy. You just take a break. You’ve worked so hard after all.”
She looked at me to see if that last part was said with sarcasm, but I’d kept my tone bright and smiled winningly at her. She clearly didn’t trust it, but I was fine playing a long game—provided I would win in the end, that is.
When I returned home after drop-off, I rounded the corner and shrieked at the sight of a man in my kitchen. I grabbed for the nearest weapon I could find, which was an admittedly unintimidating rubber spatula.
But when he turned to face whatever doom I could inflict with a spatula, a familiar and not-unwelcome face greeted me. The burnt stove was pulled away from the wall, and he was fitting metal netting into the hole.
“Eddie,” I said, surreptitiously setting the spatula down so he didn’t know I was about to try to disembowel him with it. “What are you doing here?”
Before he could answer, Pepper pounced on him, jumping up to lick his entire face. “Morning. Janet didn’t want you to pay the painter to fix something I could do.”
“But don’t you have to be at work?”
He smiled, a childish dimple forming in his left cheek. “That’s the benefit of being the boss. Besides, Janet made it sound dire.”
“The painter really could have—”
“I’d do the same for Janet,” he said smoothly, and I accepted that answer. I appreciated being treated like family.
“Let me pay you at least,” I said.
Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it and scratched behind Pepper’s ears, and she melted into him, giving his arm long, slow licks. “If you give me money,” he said eventually, “I’m just bringing you groceries with it.”
I shook my head. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Then I glanced over my shoulder. “Just don’t tell Ruth that. I’m trying to convince her that I can do everything myself.”
He mimed locking his lips. “Your secret is safe with me. Janet said the painter is coming around three. It won’t be dry by then, but you won’t have a hole anymore, and it’ll be dry whenever he comes to actually do the work. Are you going to paint the whole room or just where the fire was?”
“Might as well freshen it all up,” I said, looking around. “Now that I’m not paying to fix the wall.”
Eddie winked with a smile that immediately made me realize why all the single women in town shopped at his store. Even I wasn’t immune to the flutters when he looked at me like that. “That’s the spirit.”