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“You guys gossip worse than a bunch of high-school girls”
Jonah forces a sainst his eye socket
“Want some aspirin, hon?” I ask
“Sure,” he says I fetch the bottle and hand him two
“Don’t feel bad about Chantal,” I say tocrush on her “Maybe the post office has your mail-order bride”
He gives a halfhearted laugh “Thanks Hey, you going to see Mo
I sigh “Yeah You?”
“Said goodbye yesterday Can’t believe she’s really ”
It is a little hard to believe?ourout of the house she’s lived in for thirty years Both she and s…new start, yadda yadda…but there’s a sadness to both of them these days
My dad’s in the bo as he screws in a perch on a tiny birdhouse
“Hey, Daddy,” I say, ht of my father in tears
“Oh, hi, Maggie,” he says, surreptitiously wiping his eyes
“You okay?”
“Well, I guess so It’s just a sad day, you know?” he says
“You sure it’s what you want, Dad? Are you having second thoughts?” I pick up a tiny scrap of wood shaving and toy with it
Dad sighs hugely “I think we need to try being apart,” he says “Being together hasn’t made either of us real happy Doesn’t mean I don’t love your mother, of course I do”
“I know” I watch as he taps a shingle, no bigger than a postage stamp, onto the roof of the birdhouse “That’s a cute one,” I say “I like the tire swing Do you think they’ll use it?”
Dad smiles “You never know”
Upstairs, ie,” she says brightly
“Hi, Mom How are you?”
“Great Fine” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes “A door closes, abreaks, you know”
“Right” I’ to miss those screwed-up clichés “Are you scared?”
“M
“Tellon the bed It’s hard not to cry, but I s and try to be excited for her
“Well, it’s nothing, really I’ll just be answering phones,” she says
“Still, you got a job at a reat,” I say
“We’ll see”
I look in the box of things she’s packing, a surprisingly paltry a?for now, anyway?only some clothes, a few pictures of us kids and Violet and so all the pots and pans, all the Hus, all the crap of a three-decade-longfresh
“I think you’re really brave, Mom,” I tell her
She bursts into tears and sinks onto the bed next toher face with her hands
“Oh, Maggie,” she sobs “I’ to pull this off… I have this awful iht because I just don’t kno to live on my own”
“Mom, don’t cry It’ll be okay You can call ht down It’s not like you’re going to the moon” I pat her back “I’ll help you pick out neels and pillows and stuff like that We can go to the outlets and have lunch It’ll be okay”
She looks at me hopefully “You think so?”
I nod “Absolutely And if you do coht It’ll be because you want to, not because you have to”
She sighs, then blows her nose “I hope you’re right” She pauses “You could coie The apart note of hope in her voice, and I smile
“Thank you, Mo But I’m…I’m really happy here”
“Are you, honey?”
I think a minute “Yes I am, Mom I know you wanted more for me, but I love what I do Even if it’s blue-collar, even if I’ve never really lived anywhere else”
“What about…e? Children?” she asks carefully I can see she’s trying not to have a fight
“That would be nice I do want those things,” I acknowledge “But it’ll happen when it happens, I guess”
“I just don’t want you to look back on your life twenty years fros you could have done,” Moain
“I think I’ll look back and see all the things I did do, Mo into my voice “I’ll see that I fed people and welcoood things, Mom”
“They are, Maggie,” she says, standing up to resu “But what about you, sweetheart? I want you to have someone to take care of you, too You deserve that, you know And if you can’t find someone wonderful, someone like Will, then you need to take care of yourself”
I don’t answer It’s hard to disagree with that “Well,” I say, forcing a s about your own life, Mom”
“You areat me “The child who needs me the most”
“WHAT CAN I GET YOU, girls?” Paul Dewey bellows a few days later “Will the little ht?”
My mouth drops open “Dewey knows, too?”
“News travels fast,” Chantal murmurs “How about cranberry juice, Dewey, hon?”
“I’ll have a Sam Adams, Paul,” I call
He brings our drinks over and sits with us, gazing lovingly at Chantal’s breasts, which have grown noticeably in her delicate condition “So, Chantal, sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy?”
“Most guys in this town have been lucky at one time or another,” I quip Chantal chuckles, but Dewey turns a scowling face to me
“That’s no way to talk about a lady in her condition, Maggie Shame on you”
“I’ the truth”
She laughs, and I feel a rush of more affection than I’ve felt for her before Chantal has never pretended to be anything other than what she is, and for that, I admire her
“So, Chantal, you gonna coirl?”