Authors: Ruth Ann Hixson
"You haven't done a whole lot to ease them either," Frank shot back. "All you think about is how it effects you."
Mark grinned sardonically. "Rochelle told me to stop thinking of my penis and start thinking about Sherry's needs."
Frank hooted with laughter. "Couldn't have said it better myself."
"It's thinking about Sherry that makes me think about my penis."
Frank advised, "Give Sherry a little time and space. She'll come around. I'm telling you she loves you."
"She has a poor way of showing it. I'll give her till Friday. If she doesn't call me by then I'm going over to confront her. Either she loves me or she doesn't."
"I told you she was on a collision course with destiny," Frank observed.
"You also told me she'd need me to help pick up the pieces," Mark returned.
"When she's ready. Do me a favor. Go upstairs and get your Bible and read First Corinthians, Chapter Thirteen. That tells you what love is." Frank sat down on the recliner and leaned down to untie his sneakers. "I'm going to take a nap until milking time."
Chapter 19
Sherry sat at the kitchen table staring at the window without seeing through it. Her mind was on what her mother had told her about seeing Mark with a blonde
. It's your own fault for putting him off too
long
, her conscience accused.
Now you must live with the consequences
. She needed to think about where her life was leading her but her mind was numb.
She considered the possibility that Mom was lying. It wouldn't be the first time. She knew her mother disliked Mark and would do almost anything to split them apart. But the feeling in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise. Mark had found someone else. She would have to learn to live without him. "I was going to call him tonight," she told Mitzi. She knew she had to get past it, pick up the pieces and go on.
She needed to cry until there were no tears left. She usually wasn't a weeper but a doer. She had shed more tears in the last three weeks than the rest of her life, or so it seemed. She had to get the crying done before she could plan. She pushed herself to her feet and got a can of cat food from the pantry. It was early to feed the kitten but she had fed her early that morning. She set the saucer of food in the breezeway, and leaving the door open, she went to the living room and flopped down on her mattress.
Sobs racked her body as she thought of her loss. It was more than she could bear. Why had she taken so long to admit that she loved him? She would never again feel his arms around her or his lips against hers. Then she got angry. At least he could be man enough to tell her rather than let her find out from someone else. She cried harder until her stamina was spent. The sobs stopped but the tears wouldn't.
She knew she had to replenish the fluid she was losing from her body so she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of root beer. There was only a little left in the bottle so she drank it and tossed the plastic bottle in the sink. She sat at the table sipping the drink until she had to get up to get a kitchen towel for her tears. After she drained the glass and set it on the counter, she went to the den and curled up on the brown chair before the fireplace though no fire burned on the hearth.
She was still in the sweats she'd worn to bed the previous night so she went to bed and snuggled down beneath her blanket and comforter and tried to sleep. But she couldn't. As the temperatures fell outside, the house got colder. She knew she would have to spend what little was left of her savings to have the oil tank filled. She had enough food to last a while but the utility bills would soon be arriving. Her new priority had to be finding a job so she had money to live.
Dawn was breaking when she finally slept from exhaustion. She was awakened by Mitzi licking her face. The kitten was hungry. Sherry stumbled to the kitchen and got out a can of cat food which she spooned onto the saucer and set it under the table. She set the teakettle over the flame before filling the coffeemaker.
She needed to stop crying and get on with her life. She was cold so she went to the living room to don her fleece robe and a pair of socks. The teakettle was whistling when she returned to the kitchen. She made a cup of tea and sat down at the table to write out a check for stamps. She slipped it into the bright orange envelope and picked up the two job applications she had ready and shuffled out to the mailbox.
She finished her tea, poured herself a cup of coffee and put two slices of bread in the toaster. Her head hurt and her mind didn't want to function. For the first time as far back as she could remember, she had no plan of action. Whenever she tried to force herself to think, Mark inserted himself in her thoughts and the tears would start again.
As soon as she ate the toast and drank the coffee she had to run to the bathroom to vomit.
Great! Now you've cried yourself sick
. She rinsed her mouth and returned to the kitchen. She had to get some nourishment into her body. She made another cup of tea and two more slices of toast that she ate without butter. She nibbled at the toast slowly and sipped the tea. This time it stayed down.
She went back to bed and curled up in a fetal position and tried to go back to sleep. She knew she should shower and dress but she didn't care. She lay staring at the wall trying not to think at all. It was well into the afternoon when by sheer will power she forced herself from her bed. She looked out the dining room window to see if the mailman had gone yet. The flag was down so she went out to get the mail.
One envelope was so large the mailman had to bend it to get it in the mailbox. The return address was for the assistance office. The applications she'd requested. The other envelope was from the Department of Labor. She walked slowly back the driveway tearing open the smaller envelope which contained a form she needed to get filled out by the doctor.
She tossed it on the table and sat down to tear open the large envelope. It was an extensive application for monetary assistance, food stamps and medical assistance; and an application for LIHEAP; a form to take to the doctor and a letter explaining what she needed to do. At the bottom was an appointment at the assistance office for 11 a.m. Wednesday. Included was a list of the paperwork she would need to take along to prove she was needy.
She sighed deeply as she reached for her purse for the card her doctor had given her. She called and asked for an appointment preferably on Wednesday morning.
"I may not be able to do that," the receptionist said. "Can you hold on a minute. I have another call. Mondays are always busy."
Sherry sat tapping her foot impatiently. She'd never liked being stuck on hold, but the woman came back in short order. "Talk about perfect timing," she said. "That was a cancelation for nine o'clock Wednesday."
"I'll take it." One thing taken care of. She began filling out the application. Proof of income. Sherry laughed. "How can I take proof of income when I don't have one." She had only the statement from the dollar store's main office explaining why she was dismissed. She forced herself to work through it. Normally she was a wiz at paperwork but now she had to concentrate on something that seemed so complicated.
She was astonished at all the paperwork required. Utility bills. She didn't have even one yet. She had the receipt from the gas company but that included hookup. She also had a form from the phone company listing the costs each month. She had nothing from the electric company except her copy that the man gave her when he turned on her electricity. She didn't even know what time of the month she would receive her bill. She owned her home and had no mortgage but she had no proof of taxes. Perhaps she could get that information from Uncle Roy.
Proof of bank account. She picked up the phone and called Jan. "I need a letter of proof of my bank account as it now stands so I can sign up for LIHEAP," she explained.
"Easy as pie," Jan said. "I'll drop it off on the way home. You sound like you have a cold."
"Just put it between the doors like you do the paper. Thanks for giving me the paper. I've applied for several jobs from it."
"You are welcome. Is there anything else?"
"No. I'm going back to bed after I get the paperwork done." Sherry didn't want Jan to see her like she was. Let her think she had a cold.
****
"I talked to Sherry today," Jan said as she set Frank's salad in front of him.
"Where?" Mark asked.
"On the phone while sitting in my office. She said she needed a statement of account so she can apply for LIHEAP. She sounded like she has a cold."
"From living in that cold house," Mark reasoned sourly. "What kind of dressing is this?"
"Santa Fe. It's hot. She could have been crying," Jan countered.
"Or both," Frank added. "I'm going to take care of that cold house business when Drew delivers our oil on Thursday. If we don't get our tank filled we'll be living in a cold house. And if I don't get diesel fuel I won't be able to combine those beans."
"I'll pay for Sherry's," Mark offered. "That's the least I can do. I'm going to call her. I can't wait until she's down sick."
"You sit right down there and finish your supper," Jan ordered. "I don't want to have to wait to do the dishes because you've got something else on your mind. A few more minutes won't make that much difference."
"Better do as Mom tells you or she'll get out the wet noodle," Frank advised.
"I don't need any smart mouthing from you, Mr. Blakely."
Mark grinned. "You better take her to bed. She's getting grouchy."
After he finished his meal, Mark went up to his room and called Sherry. She must have been sitting at the table because she answered immediately. "Hello."
"Sherry?" She hung up. Afraid that he wanted to tell her it was over between them, she didn't answer when the phone rang again. When it stopped ringing, she picked it up and dialed Rose's number.
Angie answered. "Mom, it's for you. I think it's Sherry."
"Hi, Sherry. How are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm okay. I'm thinking about applying for work at the hospital and want to know if I can use your name as reference."
"Of course you can."
"Thank you. It's difficult to have references when I've lived here less than a month."
"How are things between you and Mark?"
"They aren't. He found someone else."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I guess I kept him waiting too long to make up my mind. You win some and you lose some."
"What did you decide?"
"That I love him. That's a moot point now. Thanks about the reference. I'll talk to you later."
"If you need anything..."
Sherry hung up before she started to cry again.
After she rang off, she dialed Dawn's cell phone number. It went to voice mail so she disconnected without leaving a message. She was sure Dawn wouldn't mind her using her name for reference. She could also use Dawn's parents. And Andy, owner of the restaurant where she worked in Newark.
She dialed Uncle Roy's number. She wanted to tie up the phone until Mark gave up trying to call her. "Uncle Roy, I need a copy of this year's property taxes so I can sign up for LIHEAP. I need to get oil in the tank."
He didn't sound very enthusiastic about her request. "I suppose Gail could make copies on her printer. You'll have to come and get them though."
"Can't you bring them out? I wouldn't need to sign up for LIHEAP if you hadn't emptied the tank."
"I didn't do anything illegal," he protested and hung up.
A few minutes later Aunt Gail called her back. "Sherry, I'll make those copies and bring them out. I haven't seen you since you were four." It sounded like squabbling in the background. "The boys want to come along to meet you. Derek and Paul weren't even born when your mother took you away."
"I'll turn on the outside light."
Mark stood at the window nursing a beer when he saw the glow on Sherry's driveway that said she'd turned on the outside light. A short time later the lights of vehicle turned in and he could see in the light that it was a minivan. A frown creased his brow as he tried to imagine who it could be. Because of the placement of the garage he couldn't see who got out and went to the door. With a deep sigh he turned back to the test papers he was correcting.
Gail told Sherry, "Brian couldn't come because he's wearing a GPS bracelet on his ankle. He can only go to work and to church. He asked me to give you this." She handed Sherry a folded paper sealed with a smiley face sticker. It was an apology for breaking into her house.
Gail introduced the other two boys but they didn't stay long after Gail gave her the copy of the tax receipt.
"I need to know where Gram bought her oil," Sherry said. "I'll have to have proof that they'll accept me as a customer."
"Fetterman's. That's where we get our oil, too." Gail and the boys went out to the van leaving Sherry alone. She almost called Mark back just to ease her loneliness. She reconsidered. She dreaded the time when he would tell her they were through.
Her world was falling apart around her and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to stop the aching in her heart. She wondered how long it would be before she could think about Mark without crying.
She finally made herself a cup of chamomile tea and carried it to the den where she sat in front of the fireless fireplace. She saw no choice but to get the oil tank filled. It would leave her desperately short of money but she already knew that, even if she was eligible for fuel assistance, she would not get it until November more than two weeks away. She would hold out as long as she could. Maybe she could find somewhere to buy some wood.
The cold finally drove her to her bed though she didn't fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning. She was awakened by Mitzi sticking her nose in her face. She pushed the kitten away but she came right back. Reluctantly Sherry turned over and looked at the clock. "It's almost ten o'clock." It was way past time to feed Mitzi. No wonder the kitten was so persistent.