made me sad, it truly did. I picked up my watering can and began to give the babies a drink, watching through the windows, sighing all the while that Blanche walked in between and around my legs. Stanley just laid up there, happy in the front window as though a fish was going to fly through the air and land in his mouth.
Cats are nasty things, licking everything and then licking you too, but they were company for a single lady like me. If I found a nice man for me but he was allergic to cats, I’d throw them right out the door and they knew it too. As a result of their ESP, they were extremely well behaved.
I sat down in my pink La-Z-Boy recliner and turned on Oprah. I wondered what she would have to say about this May-December nonsense next door. Maybe I would write her a letter. I must have dozed off because the next thing I remembered was Angel turning down the air conditioner and putting my afghan over my legs. Bless her heart, I thought, and drifted back to sleep. I was dreaming about something . . . what was it? Ah, yes, Anthony Hopkins was asking me to dance. Why, I’d love to . . .
Five
Loose Screws
I CONTINUED to unload the van while Daddy was inside with his toolbox fixing a stubborn sliding door. I could hear him cussing up a blue streak. The thermometer was over ninety and his mood was foul. It was perfectly understandable that he was out of sorts. We had become used to each other, in the same way you sprain an ankle and wonder what you’d do without crutches. We did so many small things for each other and now there would be no one to anticipate his needs. My leaving cut a hole right in the middle of his daily routines and meant that he’d have to clip his own coupons and grocery shop, take in his dry cleaning and pick it up, and all the rest of my share of chores.
To make it worse, ever since I had announced my move, he had second-guessed every decision I made, leaving me with some serious insecurity over my abilities to handle a house on my own. Perhaps the day would arrive when I would decide to live in a condominium at Wild Dunes, where maintenance crews took care of everything. Until that day arrived, I was determined to have my own yard, my own property, and real land.
“Who are you going to call if the roof leaks?”
“You.”
“Where are you going to go if there’s a hurricane?”
“You.”
“Then what’s the point of moving? Wouldn’t you rather travel every year for the same money? See the world? Stay in nice hotels? A mortgage isn’t anything but a rope around your neck!”
“No, that’s not true, Daddy. This house is an investment. If I spend the money on travel, it’s gone. Poof! I have nothing for my future!”
“If you traveled, maybe you’d meet a nice man for your future.”
“That’s a cheap shot, Daddy. I’d rather be responsible for myself than marry somebody for financial security.” This made him mad because that was what he thought my mother had done. “Why don’t you travel? Maybe you’d meet a nice woman.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, okay? All you feminists! You’re all crazy as hell! You ruined it for the nice girls who just want families!”
“Sure. The feminists ruined it for the nice girls. That’s what you always say when you know I’m right.”
“Go ahead! You’re gonna do what you want anyway! You always have!”
“So do you and I’m your daughter! Where in the hell do you think I learned to be such a mule?”
The quiet would swallow us until we’d come to the same realization again—that it just wasn’t mentally healthy for either of us to lean on each other like we did. It caused stagnation. Although parents and children we had known forever lived out their days together unless one or the other married—and sometimes you just moved the spouse in and life went on—we knew it wasn’t an optimum situation.
We had traded those same remarks one hundred times in the past weeks. If it wasn’t travel he suggested, he would
Cats are nasty things, licking everything and then licking you too, but they were company for a single lady like me. If I found a nice man for me but he was allergic to cats, I’d throw them right out the door and they knew it too. As a result of their ESP, they were extremely well behaved.
I sat down in my pink La-Z-Boy recliner and turned on Oprah. I wondered what she would have to say about this May-December nonsense next door. Maybe I would write her a letter. I must have dozed off because the next thing I remembered was Angel turning down the air conditioner and putting my afghan over my legs. Bless her heart, I thought, and drifted back to sleep. I was dreaming about something . . . what was it? Ah, yes, Anthony Hopkins was asking me to dance. Why, I’d love to . . .
Five
Loose Screws
I CONTINUED to unload the van while Daddy was inside with his toolbox fixing a stubborn sliding door. I could hear him cussing up a blue streak. The thermometer was over ninety and his mood was foul. It was perfectly understandable that he was out of sorts. We had become used to each other, in the same way you sprain an ankle and wonder what you’d do without crutches. We did so many small things for each other and now there would be no one to anticipate his needs. My leaving cut a hole right in the middle of his daily routines and meant that he’d have to clip his own coupons and grocery shop, take in his dry cleaning and pick it up, and all the rest of my share of chores.
To make it worse, ever since I had announced my move, he had second-guessed every decision I made, leaving me with some serious insecurity over my abilities to handle a house on my own. Perhaps the day would arrive when I would decide to live in a condominium at Wild Dunes, where maintenance crews took care of everything. Until that day arrived, I was determined to have my own yard, my own property, and real land.
“Who are you going to call if the roof leaks?”
“You.”
“Where are you going to go if there’s a hurricane?”
“You.”
“Then what’s the point of moving? Wouldn’t you rather travel every year for the same money? See the world? Stay in nice hotels? A mortgage isn’t anything but a rope around your neck!”
“No, that’s not true, Daddy. This house is an investment. If I spend the money on travel, it’s gone. Poof! I have nothing for my future!”
“If you traveled, maybe you’d meet a nice man for your future.”
“That’s a cheap shot, Daddy. I’d rather be responsible for myself than marry somebody for financial security.” This made him mad because that was what he thought my mother had done. “Why don’t you travel? Maybe you’d meet a nice woman.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, okay? All you feminists! You’re all crazy as hell! You ruined it for the nice girls who just want families!”
“Sure. The feminists ruined it for the nice girls. That’s what you always say when you know I’m right.”
“Go ahead! You’re gonna do what you want anyway! You always have!”
“So do you and I’m your daughter! Where in the hell do you think I learned to be such a mule?”
The quiet would swallow us until we’d come to the same realization again—that it just wasn’t mentally healthy for either of us to lean on each other like we did. It caused stagnation. Although parents and children we had known forever lived out their days together unless one or the other married—and sometimes you just moved the spouse in and life went on—we knew it wasn’t an optimum situation.
We had traded those same remarks one hundred times in the past weeks. If it wasn’t travel he suggested, he would
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