22. Mike #2
I show Sylvia my phone, scrolling through the sequence of pictures Sierra sent.
They’re all of the same vintage turquoise trailer, which has been lovingly restored and is sweetly funky, inside and out.
The pictures are all annotated with emojis and exclamation marks, with her spaces in the trailer circled and embellished with pink hearts.
Sylvia flushes. “She’s not subtle.”
“I think she likes it,” I say deadpan and Sylvia laughs a little.
“Thank you for the suggestion. A trailer is a good solution. We’d be close to Una but on our own. I’d like to be sure before I commit to this one, though.”
“Sure of what?”
She averts her gaze, choosing what to tell me. “I don’t know much about mechanicals, how things like solar panels and compostable toilets work, how to know if they’re not good quality.”
It sounds more like an excuse than a reason, and I think our daughter has good instincts.
“Lynn and Mindy have an excellent reputation.”
“I know. You probably wouldn’t have recommended them otherwise. But I’m not sure if it will be too much for us to maintain.” She wrinkles her nose. “And I hate asking banks for anything.”
“How much is it? ”
She takes a breath and surrenders a number. I’m surprised. My truck cost more.
But I don’t really have any expenses. I live in the house on the property. I don’t take vacations and I don’t eat out a lot, so my salary pretty much just piles up in the bank – except for when I need a new truck. Sylvia, on the other hand, has been paying rent in Toronto and raising a daughter.
“You’re surprised,” she says, watching me. “Do you think it’s too much?”
“I’ve never bought a trailer before,” I admit. “But it’s less than my truck cost.”
“Let me guess. You bought it new off the lot and paid cash.”
“Well, yeah.” I think of another variable then. “How many klicks on your Subaru?”
“The odometer stuck at two hundred and forty thousand, and that was a while ago. I’ve been trying to save for a new-to-us car.”
And now the trailer. “How much of a down payment will they want?”
“Most of what I have.” She lowers her gaze.
“I love this solution, but I don’t have the money myself.
I can’t ask Una, not when she’s in the midst of her treatment.
” That’s fair. “I want Sierra to have her space, but I don’t have good luck at banks.
” She folds her arms across her chest and looks rueful.
“I doubt I make the kind of money you do.”
“And you’ve been supporting a daughter,” I say gently. She flushes, uncertain where I’m going with this, but my path is crystal clear. “It’s my turn, Sylvia. Let me pay for it.” I raise a hand when she starts to object. “I want to do my part.”
“It’s too much, Mike.”
“I hardly think so. You’ve been paying rent for years.” She frowns and I try to lighten the mood. “I can’t begin to imagine how much you’ve spent on eyeliner. ”
She bites her lip, but there’s a new twinkle in her eyes. “You shouldn’t.”
“I think I should. We’ll just add it to the list we take to Daphne as one small credit on my side. Okay?”
She exhales shakily, then really smiles. I might get a tan just standing beside her. “Okay. Thank you.”
“If you’re worried about the mechanicals, I could have a look at the trailer tomorrow, if you like.”
“That would be wonderful.” Then she studies me. “Why wouldn’t I want you to do that?”
“As much as I love to fix things, people often prefer to make their own choices. Maybe you don’t want to move out of Una’s place. I don’t know and I know better than to guess.” My voice drops so only she’ll hear what I say. “Just tell me what you want, Sylvia.”
We stare at each other for one of those long moments, then she swallows.
I want to trace the line of her throat with my fingertip.
No, I want to kiss her. I want to make everything right in her world and I want to make love to her every night for the rest of my life and if I say any of that out loud, I could spook her completely.
She nods, deciding something, then tilts her head to look up at me. “Could you give me some help with the trailer, Mike?”
I’m ready to promise anything. “Of course. I’ll go down there tomorrow to see it.”
“I really appreciate this.”
“You know, if Una was interested in coming along, you could have the day in your studio,” I suggest. “I could spend a bit of time with Sierra, without the risk of being a creepy old man.”
Sylvia laughs. “We’re both ancient, according to Sierra, just so you know.”
“A creepy ancient man, then. ”
“I’ll ask Una and let you know.”
“Good.” Everything is settled but I’m reluctant to move away.
“Coming through,” Merrie says suddenly at close proximity.
I turn to find her lifting a tray with four snifters of brandy.
“Time to mix and mingle. Come on.” She grabs my shirt sleeve with one hand.
“You have to introduce me to your friends. Let’s convince them to become regulars. Especially the cute one.”
“But there are only four glasses,” I say, not wanting to leave Sylvia out of it.
“I have to get home,” she says, then reaches out to brush her fingertips across my shoulder. Her smile lights all the fires within me and her fleeting touch makes them rage. “Thank you, Mike. Again.”
Baby steps, I tell myself. All incremental progress is good.
“Today, please, today,” Merrie says to me, marching across the bistro with her tray, her stilettos clicking. Bryan looks up and smiles as he watches her approach, and I’m pretty sure I know how this story ends.