“Thank you. He came down with leukemia when he was seven. Fought a good fight, though! He made it to eighteen and almost to graduation. They gave us the diploma anyway. Real nice of the school district. Everybody loved Quinton.”
I smiled warmly at her, hoping she could feel my empathy. “I’m sure everyone did.”
She shook out her arms. “Well, he’s in a better place now.” She skipped on to the next topic: “So, now, you plan on getting everything all formalized for your tenant? With her own mailbox and all?”
“I…I guess I really hadn’t thought about it.”
“If you want her to get her own box, you’ll need to designate. Maybe ‘A’ or ‘B’ for each unit. And the city has to approve before we can make the change on our end.”
“Approve of what?”
She laughed. “They gotta figure out some kind of way to get more money out of you, sugar!”
“Sounds about right.”
“Don’t make me no difference. Just add her to your address so nobody mixes things up, hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good talking to you, Li’l Joy.”
“Same here, Miss Mary.”
“And it’s good to have you back.”
“It is.” I had to agree. And somehow, when she called me Li’l Joy that last time, it didn’t bother me one bit.
Chapter 2
I took all afternoon Tuesday and Wednesday getting myself unpacked and wiping down both sides of the duplex from the dust that had settled into every nook and cranny possible. Construction leaves its signature all over a house.
The primary side—my side—had half the old living room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom all to itself. The secondary side looked almost the same, except it had only one bedroom. That bedroom was a fairly good size, and Gabriella would have the other half of the backyard, plus what used to be a carport, which gave her more outside space.
Now, both sides had fresh flooring and paint and separate entrances, though right now it made no sense because of the shared kitchen at the back. We shared the wall in our living rooms, and that wall swung into an L on both sides. No open concept for us. But behind the short legs of our L’s was one kitchen that stretched all the way across. With the lowered rent and the problem we’d run into with the air-conditioning vents and roof issues, it might be several months or years before I was able to finish the project and completely seal off both halves of the duplex.
I was grateful somebody had been willing to share an almost-duplex with me. At the same time, it made me fidgety.What-ifskept peeping around every corner, making me doubt myself again and again. Good thing there was plenty to unpack, set up, and wipe down to keep my mind busy.
* * *
A few days later, Mary Buford brought news that the town might soon have its first set of triplets, as far back as anyone could remember. “Everybody’s excited.”
“Good for them,” I said.
She hoisted a giant shopping bag full of mail from the space between her seat and the door. “Here’s your old mail.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah. Mostly junk, but we can’t rightly throw it away without your permission for a while.”
“Thank you again. You’ve been very helpful to me.”
“It’s what I do.” She winked at me.
I ended our visit abruptly with a wave of my hand when I saw my daughter’s name on my phone. Mary waved back and went on her way.
Terri was finally returning my calls in between seeing her clients. It’s always the clients with her, just like it was always “the office” or “the project” with her father. “Good to see your name on my screen,” I said when I answered. She deserved a little passive-aggressiveness.
“Mom. You called, like, three times today.”
