Chapter 4 Mindful
Mindful
Jamie
Lucy Ewen: Hey you around?
Jamie Gallagher: Am I around in Nashville? No.
Lucy Ewen: I had a favor to ask.
Jamie Gallagher: What?
Lucy Ewen: Would you mind terribly if I kept Jack an extra day next week?
Lucy Ewen: I know you only have weekends right now and here I go cutting those short. But Jack overheard me talking about the 4th of July kayak race and of course he wants to go.
Lucy Ewen: I’d hate to disappoint him.
Jamie Gallagher: Of course you would.
Lucy Ewen: I’m so sorry for the short notice.
Lucy Ewen: You can keep him until Tues if that works for your schedule.
Jamie Gallagher: It’s fine. I’ll see you then.
Lucy Ewen: You’re the best! See you then.
Lucy Ewen: And try to have fun with your free time. :)
Lucy’s patronizing texts should have annoyed Jamie, but it was borderline funny at this point.
It hadn’t even been a week and she was already infringing on the court’s orders.
Jamie’s friends used to refer to Lucy as a “habitual line-stepper,” which had just amused him at the time.
It wasn’t until the breakup that he recognized the painful accuracy, how her lack of boundaries should have been a red flag long ago.
But behind rose-colored glasses…well, everyone knows how that goes.
But Gatlinburg seemed like the best place to try getting over her.
His airy cabin had always been his place of respite, a space where he could be quiet without feeling strange about it.
And he needed that now more than ever. Lucy had grown bored with him over the years, and Jamie would find himself wanting to be more adventurous for her.
But in truth, it was draining. Antithetical to his introverted tendencies.
It was much easier to escape to this place when they were in the throes of their shitty relationship. Up here in the woods, he could just be.
But he hadn’t been out here in months now.
Mostly because he’d been busy with Jack and with custody hearings, which didn’t leave him with the desire to enjoy anything, much less the time to do so.
But there was another piece of it that he hadn’t quite considered until he was back in the neighborhood and flooded with memories of his time there: It wasn’t the same without Hazel Beasley.
He had such a vivid memory of their first meeting, nearly a decade prior, when he got the keys to his place.
Miss Hazel was walking the neighborhood with her little cairn terrier, Tip, and stopped by to tell Jamie he better not come around making a lot of noise.
She said this was a quiet neighborhood, and come hell or high water, it would stay that way.
Jamie understood why she was dubious of some twenty-five-year-old white kid appearing and possibly disturbing her peace, but he assured her the most noise he’d make would be sawing wood.
They became fast friends when he volunteered to make her a bear box to keep her trash cans safe between garbage pickups, and as a thank-you, she made him a peach cobbler that he still dreamed about from time to time.
Miss Hazel loved baseball, and although Jamie had had a messy breakup with the sport, she was the one person he didn’t mind discussing it with; they’d reminisce about how much they loved the Atlanta Braves in their heyday, and they relished in the team’s recent resurgence.
She met Jack only once, but she often sent Jamie home with something for him: a blanket she’d knitted, some cookies she’d made, an old book her granddaughter used to love.
When Tip died, Jamie buried him for her.
And they drank some gin and sat quietly at her kitchen table while she mourned her beloved pet.
He and Hazel Beasley were friends, and he missed her.
He hadn’t been back since he learned she was gone.
Not until now. And he didn’t know whether it was some cosmic interference that had him cross paths with Hazel’s granddaughter within just a few minutes of his grand return, but he appreciated it all the same.
Evie was just as beautiful as Miss Hazel often said.
And she made him smile. All of it was a more than welcome surprise when he figured he would be nothing but alone for the next several days.
Jamie hoped he wasn’t line-stepping by showing up at Eve’s home unannounced after she specifically told him to keep out of her way.
He had no intention of staying, but he did feel he owed her a better welcome than the one they started with.
And the last time he decided to be a good neighbor to the person living there, he ended up making a good friend.
When Eve opened the door, Jamie wondered if he’d interrupted a nap, her glasses and sloppy bun denoting coziness. “You’re back,” she said flatly.
“I come bearing gifts,” Jamie announced. He’d gone down to Food City to pick up some staples for himself for the next couple of weeks, and he considered Eve might need some of those same items.
“What…is this?” she asked as he handed over the first of several shopping bags. “If this is some kind of weird scam, I’m not into it.”
Jamie chuckled at her skepticism as she attempted to return the bag. “You really are from New York, huh?”
“Excuse me?”
“I just assumed you didn’t have food or electricity since this place has been empty for so long. Thought I’d bring you some things to get you through the night.”
She looked taken aback by the small gesture, but she did finally accept another one of the proffered totes. “You can come in,” she said, opening the door wider for him. “Thank you.”
Jamie was tickled at how unenthused she was, and he appreciated that she didn’t bother to pretend.
“I hope I’m not overstepping,” he said as he entered the dim cabin.
But he paused, realizing only then how off-putting it may have been for some random guy to keep showing up at her grandmother’s home.
She had no way of knowing whether he and his intentions were benign.
“I can just leave this at the door if you want,” he said, careful not to move too far inside.
“It’s fine,” Eve said. “I didn’t have anything to eat, so you were right.”
Charily, Jamie headed for the kitchen and set the woven bags on the table.
He looked around at the familiar space as he fished the receipt from his pocket, noting how different the room looked without Miss Hazel in it.
“This is a list of everything I got.” He handed over the paper as if it might be the key to her trusting him.
“I paid in cash, so you can get a refund for anything you might not want.”
“I’m not gonna do that,” she said, though she did take a moment to peruse the receipt. “Why did you get so many sandwiches?”
“Well, I figured they were the best bet, assuming you don’t have any gas to cook with.
So I got ham. And then I thought you might not eat pork, so I got turkey.
And then I thought you might not eat meat, so I got the tuna and the egg salad.
And if you’re a vegan, I’m sorry. There’s plenty of fruit. ”
With that, Eve released a full giggle, instantly brightening the room and Jamie’s own muted mood. “That’s insane, you know,” she said.
“Just tryin’ to be accommodating.”
Eve began to rifle through the bag containing the assortment of deli sandwiches, plucking out the turkey and tuna for herself. “I do eat meat. But I don’t have a working refrigerator yet, so you can take the rest of these.”
“Shit, I should’ve brought you a cooler.”
“I think you’ve done more than enough,” she replied, continuing to unpack the things in the bag she presumably wanted to keep. She paused when she got to a small, unadorned birthday cake. “Is this for me, too?”
Jamie shrugged. “I figured you can’t really go wrong with yellow cake.” He felt a twinge of satisfaction when she removed the container from the bag and set it in the middle of the table.
“I prefer chocolate, but…you’re not wrong.”
Jamie nodded, surveying the room one more time as it grew darker by the minute, dusk settling over their little corner of the mountains, and he inwardly cursed himself for not thinking to bring batteries for flashlights. “Do you have candles?”
“I do.” She was staring at him like she was waiting for him to annoy her with another question.
“I just wanna make sure you have what you need.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face is saying everything.”
Eve cocked her head. “You want me to perform for you? I told you I appreciate it.”
Jamie nodded, and he hoped he wasn’t suddenly blushing. “You’re right. I’m gonna go now.”
“You sure? You don’t wanna give me some cash to have a pizza delivered?”
“If you want a pizza, I can…”
“Jesus,” she sighed. “I understand that I perhaps didn’t give the impression earlier today, but I am a full-grown woman.”
Jamie stepped back and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. But you don’t have to save me either.”
“I promise I won’t try to help you again.”
She smiled that smile again. “Good.”
“I’ll see you around,” he said, turning back toward the door. He really wanted to leave her the rest of those sandwiches, but he ignored his instincts in favor of her instructions and opened the door. He was surprised when Eve stopped him before he could take a step.
“Jamie?”
He liked the way she said his name. He spun on his heel to see her face one more time as she spoke. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. Seriously.”
“You’re more than welcome,” he said, grinning. But then, the tiny glint in her eyes reminded him of something. “Can I add one more thing?”
“Oh my god.” She was shaking her head, but Jamie could tell there was levity wrapped up in her exasperation. “What is it?”
“Keep an eye out for the fireflies.”
“What?”
“The fireflies,” he repeated. “This is the time of year for the synchronous light show at Elkmont. I talked to some folks at the grocery store, and they confirmed it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Oh, yeah.” Eve’s dark brown eyes flashed with a hint of cognizance, maybe an old, fond memory. “I thought that usually happened in spring.”
Jamie shrugged. “Climate change?”
“Likely culprit,” Eve agreed, and the weary sigh that followed felt like an allusion to the profuse weight of the world these days.
“At any rate, you oughta have a good view of the mountain from your backyard,” he said. “Won’t be the best view from the distance, but you’ll see the waves. It’s a beautiful sight.”
Eve replied with a subtle nod and a slow smile. “That sounds nice…”
“It is,” he said.
Jamie would have been fine on his own in Gatlinburg.
He’d been looking forward to it, even. A summer of remembering what it felt like to be still.
Away from the business. Time off from Dad duty.
Maybe get reacquainted with the guy who willingly wore those rose-colored glasses way back when.
Reunite with the optimist who disappeared in the fog of the last year.
He didn’t know what Eve’s plans were. He didn’t know whether she’d be receptive to spending even another minute in his company. But either way, it was nice to know that he wasn’t alone up here.
“Have a good night, Eve.”