Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Okay, bud,” June greeted her son as she entered the room. “Ready for a big day of productivity?”
Benjamin froze where he was playing with his train set. “Uh, for you, right, Mommy?” he asked, shooting her a suspicious look over his shoulder.
She bit back her smile. “Yes, for me,” she confirmed. “Your job is basically to just hang out. Think you can handle that?”
He gave her a grin, gaps in his teeth reminding her of how quickly he was growing.
“I can do that,” he said.
She grinned, shaking her head as she headed to the kitchen, where she put on the radio at just the right volume, loud enough that it was good for dancing, quiet enough that she could still hear Benjamin if he called out for her.
She let the beat of the music carry her along as she scrubbed the countertops, the appliances, and, finally, the floors.
Something in June loved a big house clean day, where she tidied, scrubbed, and organized everything in her home.
She had always felt that way, but she’d thought that she might lose the satisfied feeling after she turned to cleaning houses for money.
It turned out that it felt way better to have her own home clean over anyone else’s…
though she did enjoy having money to pay for food and clothing, of course.
She was starting to make strides on the hallway closet, which was still clogged with coats and gloves even though they were well into summer, when a knock at the door distracted her.
She opened the front door to find Eleanor, her friend practically bouncing on her toes.
“June, yay!” Eleanor said, clasping her hands together beneath her chin.
“Hey!” June said, pushing a slightly sweaty strand of hair back from her face. “What’s up?”
“Sorry I didn’t call ahead,” Eleanor said, “but I was on my way home, saw your car was here, and honestly could not resist, because I just bought the window for the bookshop and it is so perfect.”
At once, June’s energy matched Eleanor’s. “The picture window?” she asked.
Eleanor’s picture window had been one of her biggest individual decisions in renovating the bookstore.
While the front of Eleanor’s house had already had a picture window in place, this new window was far nicer, and would display Eleanor’s wares to perfection.
It was also where she would advertise any upcoming events.
The whole book club had been looking forward to seeing it and, by virtue of some geographical luck, it was June’s house who was between the window store and the bookshop.
“Ooh, let me see, let me see,” June said eagerly.
Eleanor led her eagerly out to the car.
It was admittedly a bit tough to imagine what a window might look like when the building wasn’t even on this block, but June stretched her imagination as best as she could and, failing that, oohed and aahed her heart out.
“I know, I know,” Eleanor said. “It’s basically the cutest window I’ve ever seen… and, okay, I might be getting a little crazy over these renovations, because I did hear how that sounds.”
June laughed and slung an arm around her friend’s shoulder.
“Trust me, I get it,” she said. “I bought myself some of the shortcake muffins from Honey Bee Bakery and got the fixings for mimosas to celebrate my success at just cleaning my own house. You know,” she added, “I could be persuaded to share those things, if you have the time.” She wagged her eyebrows playfully at Eleanor, who laughed.
“Well, I did come here partially to delay, since I’m too afraid to install the window on my own, and Garrett isn’t off work until later,” she admitted.
“Oh yeah, come on in then,” June urged. “I might sort of organize around you, but that’ll just make it more fun.”
“Ooh, I can help,” Eleanor volunteers. “Never let it be said that I cannot be bribed with treats.”
“You haven’t had enough in the way of home improvement projects?” June teased as she let them back into the house and Eleanor greeted Benjamin, who looked up from his train set just long enough to be polite before returning to his elaborate construction.
“What can I say?” Eleanor answered as she and June gathered the muffins. “I’ve got the bug. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I’m done with renovating the bookstore.”
“Run a bookstore?”
“Oh, yeah,” Eleanor agreed, popping the cork on the champagne in June’s fridge and mixing mimosa. “That’s a good point.”
The women chatted amiably as June moved through the different places she wanted to clean, glad she’d started with the really heavy-duty scrubbing, which wasn’t as easy to do while chatting with a friend as was sorting through a closet full of old clothes.
She was sifting through a bunch of Benjamin’s old clothes, most of which needed to be donated, when she found a box that she didn’t recognize.
“What’s this?” she asked, speaking mainly to herself. She lifted the flaps and let out a startled laugh. “Oh, gosh.”
“What?” Eleanor asked, peering over her shoulder. “You can’t say stuff like that and then not share. Give me the goods!”
June held up the paper she’d uncovered, a creased program from a musical she’d been in in high school.
The high school drama club hadn’t had the budget for full-color programs, so the photo on the front was black and white, a little grainy, and creased with age.
And yet you could clearly see June, totally playing the ham on the front cover, playing Kim in Bye Bye Birdie.
She’d been fifteen or sixteen, and was dressed up in full 1950s style. It was, in short, a look.
“Oh my goodness!” Eleanor looked like she was about to fall out of her chair with excitement. “Look how cute you are! Look how little you were! June!”
“Okay, okay,” June said, laughing. “It’s not that exciting.”
“Uh, agree to disagree,” Eleanor countered. “You look like you’re having the time of your life.”
June smiled down at the photo. She really did. She remembered how fun it had been too, how thrilled she’d been to get the lead role even though she’d only been, what, a sophomore? She flipped over the brochure to check the date then paused when she saw a handwritten note.
Congrats to the prettiest, most talented girl on any stage. Love you, little songbird. Xoxo, Keith.
Next to his note, he’d drawn a little bird, something that she could only identify because she’d seen him draw it so frequently.
He had been an absolutely horrible artist, truly one of the worst June had ever seen.
But he’d drawn the bird on nearly every note he’d left June in all the years they’d known one another, mostly because it made her laugh at his lackluster skills.
June traced her fingers over the drawing, then over the short line of text.
“You okay?” Eleanor asked gently.
June gave her a sad sort of smile.
“Yeah,” she said honestly. “I am. Grief is… it’s a very weird up and down journey, but right now I’m at a place where I’m glad for the reminders. Not that I ever forget Keith, of course,” she hastened to add.
“Of course not,” Eleanor said supportively.
“I just…” She tapped her fingers against the program, making a small hollow sound, while she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I guess the term is ‘bittersweet,’ but it’s just this sort of, I don’t know, sad happiness? Happy sadness? Maybe there’s no difference between them.”
“Maybe not,” Eleanor allowed, “but look at this.” She pointed back to the picture. “That looks like a pretty happy memory to me.”
At this, June grinned.
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “I was so nervous before the first show. Like, ‘afraid I was going to throw up on my shoes’ nervous. And Keith comes to where we’re all about to go backstage, this total hangdog look on his face. Says he has something to show me.”
“Oh boy,” Eleanor chuckled.
“Right? I mean, this is not a look that you get when something has gone right. So I follow him over to his locker. Turns out, he’s gotten me flowers.
We were fifteen, so it’s a cheap bouquet from the nearby gas station.
It’s absolutely adorable… except somehow, he managed to slam it half in, half out of the locker door. ”
“What?” Eleanor said with a startled laugh.
June was laughing too, lost in the memory.
“I know, right? And he’s trying to explain how it happened but, Eleanor, let me tell you, this explanation made no sense.
How do you get flowers stuck in a locker door?
But there they are, staring at me. And worse?
Somehow, they jammed the locker mechanism, so he can’t even get them out again. ”
“I have to ask,” Eleanor said, “did he do it on purpose to make you laugh?”
June held up her hands. “He always denied it, but I was never convinced. In any way, it worked. And the play started on a Friday night, after the janitor was already gone. So nobody could pry that locker open until Monday. So, for the next two days, on my way to the theater, I walked past his locker and saw this poor bouquet, looking more and more beaten with every day.”
“Did it cure your nerves?”
June squeezed one eye shut, considering. “Well, it distracted me from my nerves. What really cured them was that the first show went great, which was really what I was most concerned about.”
“And look at you now,” Eleanor observed with an exaggerated air of innocence about her. “You still love singing. So much so that you’re going to do that open mic!”
June snatched up one of the toddler-sized t-shirts and launched it at Eleanor, who caught it with a laugh.
“Real subtle, there, you goof,” she accused.
“I’ll go with you,” Eleanor offered, wheedling.
Another refusal was on the tip of June’s tongue when she looked down at the little songbird doodle on the paper still in her hand. What would Keith say to her, if she was considering this?
She rolled her eyes at herself at the very idea.
You kidding me, songbird? I’m already calling the babysitter. Let’s have a night out!
There was no world in which Keith wouldn’t have encouraged her. None.
“Okay,” she said to Eleanor, who let out a little squeak of excitement. “But,” June added in a cautioning tone, “just us, okay? Let’s not tell anybody else yet. I know everyone else would be supportive, but Miriam’s version of support is… really supportive.”
Eleanor chuckled at this. “Yes, fair enough. We can work up to showing your talents to the world. First, we’re going to remind you of what you’re capable of, huh?”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty good,” June said. And, to her surprise, she found that she really, really meant it.