Sound Advice (Sensations Collection #1) (31 page)

Whether to leave early or stay late is sometimes a quandary. Timing an exit can be difficult. It is best to time your leave for when the majority of others depart.

“Matters of Manners,” 1977

SUNDAYS ARE GENERALLY a quiet day in a small town, but especially so after the excitement of a week’s worth of activities. Elk Rapids was ready for a rest. The streets were somber with the release of the fireworks being the finale to the week, and for me, it signaled the end of summer. Labor Day was a month away and school didn’t start in Michigan until after that weekend to help the economy of tourism, but I felt the downswing of summer days. The days had been hot for my stay, but occasionally the nights dipped into the 50s and that was a teaser to the coming fall.

There was a special Sunday service in the central park to give thanks and close the Harbor Days, but I wasn’t religious enough to attend without Nana. I thought of Jess and his family, and all they had to be thankful for today. Katie had found the power within herself to speak and tell her father what happened to cause her to stop talking. Although I was sure there were more details, and some questions that may never have answers, I knew the main mystery was solved. Hopefully, for all their sakes, Katie would continue to use her voice and express herself.

It wasn’t until I woke in the morning, went for a run, and sat in Nana’s living room staring at the walls that needed painting that the enormity of Katie’s success and my loneliness hit me. I had been so used to being alone, almost priding myself on it. I never minded the quiet of my apartment, going to the movies alone, or spending a day shopping all by myself. But sitting in Nana’s home, where I had shared Nana’s final days, contributed to the loneliness. A loneliness that developed the moment I walked away from Jess, knowing I was not a part of the joy of the Carter family. I had spent so many days working with Katie and sharing time with her in the yard, and so many nights sleeping with Jess, that an hollowness had taken over.

I had things to do and when I didn’t hear from Jess by noon, I set out for the hardware store and a Sunday shopping trip in Traverse City. I bought the new linens Rosie sent me money to purchase and some additional rollers to paint the living and dining rooms. I treated myself to the bookstore in TC and lunch at a small café. I checked all my email from the past couple days while eating lunch, something I commonly did at home. Chicago. I was going home. There were several missed calls from Rosie and I decided I would call her when I got home. Or back to Nana’s, I meant.

When I returned to Elk Rapids, I walked to the beach to call Rosie. It was eerily quiet. The beer tent was gone and the sand castles destroyed. When I drove south to the bigger city, the road was full of campers and packed cars headed down-state. The carnival games and rides were closed up and hitched to trailers, ready to travel to the next festival. The emptiness was everywhere.

“Hey.”

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you for two days,” Rosie started in right away.

“Busy,” I replied, thinking calling her might not have been a good idea after all.

“Well, your timing is perfect because we are on our way to the hospital. This little lovey is finally coming out.”

“Oh my God. Rosie, I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner. How are you doing?”

“Peachy,” she growled.

“Look, I think we need to call you later,” Mark was suddenly on the phone.

“Mark, I’m so sorry…”

“No worries. How are you? Rosie told me to ask.”

“Fine. Mark, are you driving? With Rosie in labor next to you? While talking on the phone? Forget me. Go, go, go, and call me later.”

“Okay, good plan.”

“Love you, Rosie,” I yelled into the receiver, and I heard Rosie yell
love you
before the line closed. I felt that loneliness all the more as I thought about the fact that Rosie was never alone and would be even less alone with another baby. I sauntered back to Nana’s. Once there, I turned up the tunes and began the process of throwing myself into prepping and painting. I finished the job I had partially started the other day. I covered the furniture, moved bigger pieces, taped the woodwork, and washed the walls. I’d watched several home improvement shows back in Chicago, and even though I didn’t own a home, I found the work therapeutic.

Several hours passed before I stopped and decided to get a soda from the kitchen. It was during this break that I checked my phone for missed calls. No call from Jess. Nothing from Rosie. I tossed the phone back on the kitchen table and went to work in the dining room.

It was hard work to move the china cabinet. Nana had tons of dishes and knick-knacks in the glass cabinet and I had to remove each one carefully. In removing these items, I decided I should pack them up since a rental would not need the fine china and the other pieces were too sentimentally valuable to leave behind. I had previously collected moving boxes from the hardware store and decided now was a good time to start packing before I painted the dining room. It was in this state of disarray that I heard someone knock on the front door.

I had to disentangle myself from the cabinet, walk around the table, and step over a box. I stumbled on an open cardboard flap before I reached the door. The knocking was getting harder and I yelled, “Coming.” I yanked the door handle harder than I expected and struggled to keep myself upright by holding the door.

“Jess?”

He stood on the porch holding something in a plastic food container, and laughed at my unstable greeting. I was suddenly self-conscious of my appearance as I once again had on my grandfather’s shorts and his tank top from my early gardening days. They now had paint smears on them to match the paint on my knees and arms from my work in the living room. My hair was in a messy bun with pieces falling out in the back and around my face.

“Hey. I’ve been trying to call.” He stood awkwardly outside the door and peered around me, into the living room. His face froze and his eyes began to shift as he clenched his jaw.

“Come in,” I said, finally remembering my manners. Jess wiggled the food container toward me.

“My mom made you some dinner. She thought you might not remember to eat if you were alone.” He continued to scan the living room briefly before looking into the dining room behind me and noticing the open boxes.

“Looks like you’ve been very busy,” Jess continued as I took the container from him.

“I’d offer for you to sit down, but it’s kind of messy. Come into the kitchen?” I led the way to the kitchen and placed the food on the counter. I wasn’t hungry. As a matter of fact, I suddenly felt a little sick to my stomach as Jess noticed the haphazard packing boxes in the screened-in porch.

“What’s going on here?” His jaw continued to clench. His eyes grew darker.

“I’m packing,” I said, looking down at my bare feet. Jess rubbed a hand over his face then placed both hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Today, I guess.”

“You guess? How long?”

“How long, what? Until I go? Or how long have I known?

Jess’ jaw clenched harder.

“Either. Both.”

“I leave Wednesday. I’ve known since Friday morning.”

“It’s fucking Sunday night, Emily.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“Why didn’t I tell you? Or why am I leaving?”

“Stop answering me with another goddamn double question. The truth. All of it.”

I went into the explanation of the phone call from my boss on Friday, his kindness and understanding, and how I just could not take advantage of the situation any longer. I continued to explain that I really didn’t have much more to do and I’d only been stalling. I included that my meeting with the rental agent was the next day and I would leave on Wednesday to make the Thursday conference.

“So that’s it, huh?”

“What’s it?”

“Emily,” he growled.

“Listen, I don’t know what ‘it’ is. If you mean us, I don’t know if there is an ‘us.’ I care about you. This is more than not hating you, but I have a job and a home of my own. You have Katie and she’s…” I didn’t want to say
cured
. My anger was rising, and I wasn’t sure where it was headed.

“Katie’s perfect,” I softened my tone. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“It’s not about
need
, Emily.” He paused, rubbed a hand over his face again then rested it on the back of his neck.

“Well, what’s it about then, Jess?”

Silence. I could take a stand-off with Katie. I was always sure there was something greater to the silence from her, but silence from Jess was a different experience. This silence had to do with me, yet I couldn’t read it.

“Wednesday?”

“Yes.”

“I…I have an appointment out of town on Wednesday. I won’t be here to say goodbye.”

I didn’t know what to say. I sensed goodbye was happening right now. Jess scanned my face. His steel-grey eyes had settled to a misty blue.

“Katie will want to say goodbye. If you rent, I suppose you won’t really be coming back.” He glanced at the boxes on the porch and into the living room. He stepped closer to me as I leaned against the kitchen counter and bent forward to look directly into my eyes.

“You have something right here,” he said as he touched my forehead. “Paint.”

“And here.” He ran a fingertip down the length of my arm and stopped at the stain on my wrist. He looked down at my paint covered knees before looking up to my mouth.

“And here.” His lips gently brushed mine before he deepened the kiss, but slowly, not hungry like it had been before. It was like he was trying to take it in and memorize each detail of my mouth. It was the saddest kiss I’d ever tasted, and Jess broke off too soon. With one final look at me, he turned and walked out the back porch door.

When discussing adult issues with a child, choose your words carefully and honestly to address the concern and close the matter. Remember that adult concerns are not for children.

“Matters of Manners,” 1955

I GOT A text at 3:30 in the morning that baby girl number four was born to Rosie, who she named Elizabeth Emily, after Nana and me. It was bittersweet to think of Rosie having another baby in her already chaotic life. Being a mom had been her calling and she was good with children. I had never thought about being a mom until I’d met Katie. The sweetness of her smile, the sticky smell of ice cream, and the unconditional hugs of love were something I had never considered as important before her. After last night, I questioned how to say good-bye to Katie, but I knew that based on her personal break-through, I owed her honesty.

My meeting with the rental agent was pretty straight forward. She would handle all rental contracts and agreements. If I wanted the home for any time, I needed to set the dates well in advance. Tenants could rent for weeks starting Friday to Friday, allowing a grace period of time for cleaning. I would leave what I thought was necessary for comfort and the agent would bill me for any additional start-up costs. The rental could also be taken for months at a time during the off-season – beginning after Labor Day until the end of April.

After the meeting with the rental agent, I walked to the Carter’s. I hoped Jess wasn’t home as I felt we had said our goodbye, and I called just to confirm that Katie was alone with Mary. It was actually Tricia who answered the door, though Mary had been the one to approve this visit.

“Hey, Katie girl.”

“Hey,” she spoke softly. I knew that even though Katie released her voice, it might take her a long time to get used to using it again.

“I never got the chance to tell you how proud I am of you. You broke the spell all on your own, just like I knew you could.”

“You helped me, like the fairy godmother. You gave me the three secrets and the fireworks.”

I smiled. I didn’t really give Katie the fireworks, but the magic of the night helped it all come to fruition if it was going to happen.

“So, school starts in a few weeks, and I know you will have a new teacher and make some new friends. Are you excited?”