I nod. I’ve never been the type of person who gives or receives pep talks, and I don’t think Chantal is either. I’m the last person who should give advice, so I always stick to straight talk instead. And with Chantal at least, it works.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Present,May 1987
Toby
Two dayslater Chantal knocks on apartment 3A’s door and tells Johnny and me that Mrs. Bennett is moving into a nursing home in Lakewood that specializes in Alzheimer’s patients.
That same afternoon she’s gone. To the nursing home, not from existence. I didn’t get to say goodbye; that was intentional. I’ve never said goodbye to anyone that I knew I would never see again. I don’t want to start now. And yes, I know how shitty that sounds.
Chapter Thirty
Present,May 1987
Toby
Chantal’s coworkerat the diner who trades babysitting with her, and her kids, are moving into Mrs. Bennett’s old bedroom today. She’s only been gone two days, and though I know Chantal needs the roommate, it feels like Mrs. Bennett is being replaced and I don’t like it. I know that’s illogical, but it’s how I feel.
I’m walking down the stairs to Chantal’s apartment because she called thirty minutes ago and asked if I could help put her roommate’s kids’ bunk bed together.
The walk there is numb.
The introduction to them is numb.
Putting the bunk bed together is numb.
I’m just going through the motions, counting down the days that are so few they could technically be measured in hours. And I’m missing Alice. So much it hurts. She left a message on the answering machine this morning to tell me she got The Cure’s new cassette and to ask if I wanted to come down and listen to it.
I wanted to so badly.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
And now I’m just missing her instead.
Gathering up my tools, I ignore the roommate’s thanks. I can’t even remember her name and she told it to me ten minutes ago.
Chantal catches me at the door. She looks rested for the first time in months. “Toby, I changed my schedule at work because I’m going to take some classes this summer. So, I won’t need you to watch Joey on Tuesday nights anymore.” The words that I would’ve taken at face value before, plunge in and twist the knife today. I have been dismissed.
No more Joey.
No more Mrs. Bennett.
There’s absolutely no point in Tuesdays anymore.
Chapter Thirty-One
Present,May 1987
Toby
I knockon Chantal’s door Tuesday night, not because I’m on autopilot and forgot that our arrangements have changed, but because I just want to see Joey one last time.
They aren’t home.
So, I hang the plastic bag with the diapers and a bib I bought on the way home from school on the doorknob. He’ll be eating real food soon and he’ll need it.
