Railroad Man by Alle Wells

“Lewis, I just never imagined that anyone would do something like this for me.”
    He looked at the men going in and out of my house and said, “Kindness is what keeps us going in life. It helps us out when we’re down and lifts us up when we give back. You get involved with that group, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to pay them back.”
    I stalled outside the front door. I was afraid that what I’d find inside would be more than I could bear. The men hustling in and out the door made facing Dottie’s portraits on the living room wall easier to bear. The sound of the hammers and saws overtook the house and pushed everything else in the background.
    Lewis grabbed the door frame. “Mickey, this sure is a nice house, built sturdy to last.”
    I moved uncertainly toward the hallway that faced the washroom. The place was stripped to the wall studs and lath. It will be a new room, I thought, stripped of the memories of little Dottie and Miss Lamp.
    Lewis shed his necktie and jacket and helped the men carry fresh lumber into the house.
    “ Mr. MacDonald, can I have a word with you?” the plumber said, standing at the dining room table with a catalog laid out in front of him.
    I nodded and walked over. “Yes, sir?”
    He pointed to the book in front of him. “Here are some samples of the latest bathroom designs.”
    “ Bathroom, huh? I always called it a washroom.”
    The plumber laughed. “Times are changing, Mr. MacDonald. Now, there’re called bathrooms. Other big changes are coming about in bathroom fixtures. See here, you’re looking at a fully encased ceramic tub with a built-in shower. A wall-sink hangs next to the tub and a mirror with fluorescent lighting. The man pointed to the picture. “This year’s most popular tile color is coral pink. In this example, we have a teal colored linoleum floor.”
    I nodded. “That’s real nice. I bet it comes with a nice price tag, too.”
    “ Not a cent, Mr. MacDonald. It’s all been taken care of by your friends at the railroad union.”
    “ Well, my wife usually does the decorating. But I think this will be just fine, real nice.”
    “ Okey-dokey, we’ll get you fixed up. Your new bathroom should be ready by the end of the week.” The man closed his book and walked away. I turned and drifted toward the sunlight.
    The room was bright and airy. Sunlight flooded in through sheer organdy tiebacks. The light flickered, making the tiny pink rosebuds dance on the wall. The room felt full of life, the makings of a perfect childhood. Fluffy and all her other toys were there. Flo never owned a toy in her entire life. I think she tried to make up for all the things she never had through Dottie. I squeezed Fluffy in my hand and sniffed the clean scent of my daughter on the knotted blue-eyed lamb. I decided to take it to Flo. She might like that. Dottie’s closet was packed with short crinoline frocks that stood out in every direction. I chose a yellow one with a sheer pinafore, crisscrossed in the front with wide lapel ruffles, and laid it across the pink ruffled bedcover. I picked up a straw bonnet with yellow flowers that hung from a peg. She’d worn it one time for her last portrait. I threw a pair of white patent leather shoes, lacy socks, and frilly panties into a pink satchel and closed the door.
    Driving home, Lewis said, “Yep, that’s a real nice thing those guys are doing.”
    “ Lewis, I was thinking. I’ve always worked my run and taken the benefits of my job for granted. Not anymore, I plan to be a real railroad man from here on out, do my share and give back to the union and to the company.”
    He smiled. “That sounds like a fine idea to me.”
    ***
    I stood looking down at the graves of my children, Dottie’s marker larger than the baby’s with an inlaid oval picture of her. Flo had only nodded when I asked her opinion on the yellow frock and summer bonnet I chose for Dottie. My mother and sisters took the clothes to the funeral