“Honey, I’m a nurse. My stomach is like iron.” Still, I noticed she inhaled deeply before stepping inside, too.
“See what I mean?” I spoke through my hands, which were over my face. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s not exactly garden fresh.” She reached for one of the windows. “Let’s crank these babies open before we go. Let it air out while we’re away. It won’t hurt. Might help.”
Between the two of us, we managed to open all jalousie windows and measure the bedroom and sitting area. I was standing by the door when Jenny paused next to the toilet. With a trepidatious glance at me, she lifted the lid and then winced and the dropped it back into place.
“What do you know about composting toilets, Emma?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. Why? Is it a kind of flushing mechanism?”
“Not exactly.” She pointed to the door. “Let’s talk outside.”
We both went out, stepping from the door to the rusty metal step to the safety of the ground. Jenny bent down and peered under the trailer.
“Look.” She pointed, and I leaned to see what she was showing me. “See that bucket?”
“Yeah.” I squinted. “Is that because there’s a leak or something?”
“No, sweetie.” She patted my arm. “That’s where the . . . well, that’s a composting toilet. It means there’s no system for flushing it or anything like that—it’s not connected to a waste tank. Didn’t you wonder about the water hook-up? The electric?”
I blinked at her. And then as understanding rolled over me like a wave on the beach, I shook my head.
“I never even thought about it.”
“Well, you’re not going to have any water coming through that faucet or the shower. And whatever you do on the toilet ends up in the bucket underneath it, and then you have to go dump it.” She paused. “Also, it’s going to be dark at night. And I’m not sure how you’re going to cook on the stove, unless . . .” She held up a finger and darted around to the other side of the trailer. “Okay, yeah, it’s got a hook-up for propane. So you can use the oven and the stove if we get you a tank. But the fridge is a no-go until you have electric run out here.”
“Do you think I can do that?” I was beginning to feel utterly despondent. I’d been such a naïve idiot, coming down here with all these grandiose ideas of living on the land . . . not even stopping to think that the land wasn’t going to have naturally occurring electric, water and gas outlets. Not to mention a sewage hook-up for my toilet.
Jenny lifted one shoulder. “You’ll have to talk to someone in town about that, I guess.” She bit the side of her lip and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Emma, this is going to sound creepy, maybe, but . . . here’s the thing. I live in an amazing rental just outside town. I sublet it from—um, from a friend who moved for work. It’s got three bedrooms, four baths, a gorgeous pool . . . and I’m there all by myself. If you want to stay with me for a while, until you figure all of this out, you’re welcome. I’d love to have you.”
I thought about it for a few minutes. It would be so easy to say yes to Jenny. She seemed like a nice person, and God knew, I could use a friend. Turning my back on the wreck that was this disgusting trailer and the idea that had seemed so much more appealing from the perspective of Philadelphia was tempting. I could live in a house with water, a flushing toilet, lights—and a pool! I could contribute to Jenny’s rent and still save up to eventually build something small for myself here.
But on the other hand . . . saying yes to Jenny felt like saying no to the part of me that had been so excited to finally strike out on my own. It felt like giving up, and while I had a lot of faults, I didn’t count cowardice as one of them. Living here wasn’t going to be easy, but I had an odd feeling that in the long run, it would be good for me. It would be one of those growing experiences I’d heard about so often.
The truth was that I’d made my decision impulsively, and not living with the consequences felt like a cop out. I wasn’t going to be that woman. Not anymore.
“I want to say yes,” I replied slowly. “God, you have no idea how much I want to say yes, and then take you dinner before we go back to your lovely house with the electric and the toilet. But I think I need to stick it out here. I made the commitment, and I have to see it through.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say that.” Jenny nodded. “But I figured it didn’t hurt to offer. Tell you what—look at my invitation as a standing one. Even if you just need a respite—a night away, or a weekend break—my door is always open.”
“Thanks, Jenny.” I reached into my purse for my keys. “You have no idea how grateful I am for that—and for your help today. Let’s head over to get supplies, and if you’re down for it, I’ll add a couple of bottles of wine to our list. I have a feeling we’re going to need them once we’re finished.”
Jenny grinned. “Sister, you’re on.”
3
Emma
“Well . . . this is better.” Jenny stood in my sitting room with her hands on her hips, surveying the trailer. “I mean, with all due respect, it’s probably not going to make the cover story ofHome and Gardenany time soon, but it’s kind of cute, actually.”
I flopped back into the comfy chair we’d found at the thrift store, kicking off my shoes. “It smells better. And it’s clean. And . . .” I took a deep breath. “It’s mine.”
“It is, indeed.” Jenny’s tone left it up to interpretation as far as whether that was a good thing or a bad one. I understood her trepidation. While my little home-on-wheels was better than we’d found it, it was lit by a variety of gas lanterns (from the camping department at Walmart) and kerosene lamps (from the thrift store). My bedroom and sitting room walls were lined with jugs of water I’d bought for drinking, washing dishes . . . and showering.
I hadn’t been sure how I’d manage basic bathing, but then when we’d been looking for the lanterns at WalMart, we’d found a very reasonably priced camping shower. It held five gallons of water and boasted a solar heater.
“So as long as the sun is out, you can have a hot shower,” Jenny had reasoned. “And Florida is the Sunshine State, so that’s most of the time. Luxury, that’s what it is.”
