Nesting Page 7

  She figured at first Jess would pretend to scold her for hitching all that way, but then she’d see how Cam had become a woman, capable and strong. They would share laughs as Cam told her witty stories about her journey—both to adulthood and to Georgia.

  Grace drove into a McDonald’s parking lot. Cam wanted to punch the dash. She wanted to tell Grace to go screw herself, but she didn’t. She would not let herself lose it, not after all those miles. When Grace pulled up to the drive-thru window, Cam undid her seatbelt, grabbed her duffle, and got out of the car.

  As Cam walked away, she could hear Grace calling after her. “Come on, Cam. This will only take a second.”

  Cam crossed the parking lot and walked up to the first person she saw. When she read the address to the white-haired man in the khakis and pink golf shirt, he pointed across the street.

  “Just go about a half mile in that direction, and you’ll run right into the road.”

  With every step, the pounding in Cam’s head dissolved, replaced by a drumming in her chest. She was so close.

  Cam unclenched her fist and double-checked the number. The ink was smudged, but she could still make it out, if not from the paper, then from memory.

  †

  Jess and Sharon’s kitchen was very bright, with white floor tile, cabinets, and countertops. They provided a nice contrast with black appliances, right down to the refrigerator. But Macy’s favorite details were the splashes of red: the toaster, the coffeemaker, the ceramic fondue pot. The dish towels and pot holders were imprinted with a chili pepper motif.

  Another pepper, a magnet, held a grocery list on the fridge—milk, bread, Pop-Tarts. Jess had a thing for chocolate Pop-Tarts, but Macy didn’t know which of the women had written the list that ended in, “I love you!” Their handwriting was so similar, something she figured had happened over time.

  Macy stood at the sink and stared into the pale froth of the soapy water. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, Jess and Sharon had eaten off the plates she was soaking, and now Jess was gone.

  “Hey.” Michael leaned against the doorway. “That can wait.” He gestured toward the dishes.

  “I’d rather just get it done.”

  “Okay,” Michael said. “Jeremiah’s still in the spare room playing.”

  She smiled, and Michael disappeared back into the living room. She could hear the low sounds of a ballgame murmuring from the TV.

  Macy sighed. Jess and Sharon had been so passionate with one another, right up to the very end. Once she’d overheard Sharon telling Jess, “Baby, after all these years, you still give me goose bumps.”

  She imagined them before the cancer started taking Jess away bit by bit. Surely they gave one another that heart-pounding, butterfly-stomach feeling of near panic.

  Long ago, that kind of passion would sneak up on Macy whenever Dorianne brought up the hero characters in First Love. Like the time Dori went to the roller rink with Kathy and Debbie, without inviting Macy. Dori felt so bad about it afterward. She said she was sorry, squeezed Macy’s hand, and whispered with hot bubblegum breath in her ear, “Macy, come play hero.” Her words were toe-numbing, belly-tingling.

  Macy had felt something like that with Jack, briefly. But she was never quite sure how much of her fervor was about him, and how much was panic over losing Dorianne’s friendship. The tornado of confusing feelings was nauseating, much like at the county fair when Macy rode the Tilt-A-Whirl for the first time. She threw up cotton candy all over Jack and turned his white T-shirt into a sour tie-dye of blue and pink. When he took her home, he didn’t even try to kiss her goodnight or put his hands up her shirt, and she remembered thinking that maybe girls should puke on their dates more often.

  Standing over Jess and Sharon’s white sink, Macy felt a little dizzy. She hadn’t known them long. She’d met them through Michael. By then, Jess’s cancer had taken a heavy toll on them both. But Macy liked them immediately and quickly grew attached.

  She went out front for fresh air. It felt nice to be outside, even in the early, sweltering heat. Sitting on the porch steps, she thought she tasted cilantro. She knew it was absurd, a product of the unopened manila envelope in her car, the one with Macy’s name in Emma’s handwriting. She wasn’t afraid of what might be in the envelope, just of her possible reaction to it. She really missed Emma.

  But being with Michael was safe, calming. There were times Macy missed the rush of an adventure with a stranger, and of course there were times when she thought of Emma, but she was okay with Michael. He was kind and unassuming and didn’t pressure her for too much too soon. She’d wanted to take it slow, do it right, so they had only just started sleeping together.

  Best of all, though, Michael was good with Jeremiah. And her J-man seemed to like him a lot.

  Macy looked up as a young man crossed the yard. His blonde-streaked hair was disheveled, his jeans rumpled. His smile was self-conscious, a combination of nervous and giddy. She was just thinking how cute the guy was when she realized it was a young woman.

  Macy smiled. “Can I help you?”

  The young woman shifted her duffle bag from her right arm to her left. “I’m Cam, Jess’s niece.”

  Macy’s eyes widened. “I’m Macy Stokes.” She extended her hand, and the girl shook it. “Let me go inside and get Michael.”

  She mumbled something about wanting Jess, not someone named Michael, but Macy hurried inside.

  When Macy came out with Michael, the young woman was massaging her temples. Michael introduced himself as a friend of Jess and Sharon’s and asked if Sharon was expecting her.

  “Where’s Jess?”

  The words were a knowing whisper, and Macy’s heart broke for her.

  Cam crumpled onto the sun-scorched lawn.

  They walked Cam inside and settled her onto the sofa. Macy went into the kitchen to get Cam a glass of water. When Macy came back, Michael was talking about Jess. Cam was on the sofa, on her back. Macy handed her a damp rag to place across her forehead.

  Michael used his soft doctor voice, telling Cam how Jess had gone in her sleep, relaxed in Sharon’s arms.

  After a brief conference in the kitchen, Macy and Michael decided Cam would stay with Michael for a few days, until she could sort things out. They tried unsuccessfully to reach Sharon on her cell phone but still planned to honor her wishes and lock up the house after they’d cleaned the kitchen for her.

  Macy wiped down the counters and put away the dishes, tiptoed past Michael and Cam, and touched Michael’s shoulder softly as she passed his chair. She was quiet as she approached the spare bedroom. She didn’t want to wake J-man if he’d fallen asleep.

  She stood in the doorway and watched him fly one of his action figures through the air. Lingering there, Macy noticed for the first time the red accents in that room—a red table lamp, a crimson-faced clock on the wall. She looked back to J-man, but when he caught her watching, he stopped mid-flight. He turned his action figure to face her. “Mama, can you help me cream him so we can spread his ashes?”

  She didn’t know what to say. When had he started knowing stuff like that?

  †

  At home that night, with J-man bathed and off to bed, Macy retrieved the envelope from her car. The postmark was the same as the one on the card Emma had sent J-man for his sixth birthday. Macy carefully pulled two 8x10s and a note from the envelope. Placing the photos on the table to her left, she put the note down in front of her. Her hands shook too much to hold it still enough to read.

  Macy, I hope this finds you well. I wanted to share these images with you, as they are my favorites. I’m in Virginia, finally feeling like I’m home. I’ve found what I was looking for. Hope you’re finding yours, too. Hugs and kisses to Jeremiah. Much love, Emma.

  The first photo had been taken in downtown Augusta. Macy focused on the background, not wanting to see her own restless image staring back at her. The rough brick of the buildings on Reynolds Street served as a stoic backdrop to her half-s
mirk expression. The look was probably in response to one of the off-the-wall, pseudo-philosophical comments Emma loved to throw out.

  It struck her then how unselfconscious she’d become over Emma’s photography. At first it made her feel a little uncomfortable, but Emma was good at what she did, and Macy savored the excuse to relinquish control, however momentarily.

  The second photo was of Macy and J-man. She didn’t remember Emma taking the picture of her squatting with him near the riverbank, looking closely at something he held in his hand. There was a sweetness in the curve of J-man’s hand, the concentration on his face. But there was also something very unsettling, something Macy couldn’t quite place. The longer she looked at the picture, the harder it became for her to breathe.

  She stuffed it all back into the envelope and stashed it on top of the refrigerator.

  †

  Damp earth under their feet, Macy and Cam hiked along the path between the canal and the river, through an occasional cloud of gnats. On the far side of the canal, sunbathing turtles lined a dark, slanted log, like precariously placed dominoes.

  “This place is really cool,” Cam said. “You come out here a lot?”

  “Not as much as I used to.”

  If Macy could manage it being just her and J-man, that was fine, but she didn’t like going to the canal with Michael. They’d all gone there together once, and J-man kept asking her if she remembered the time he beat Emma when they raced to the river, or when they’d all ridden their bikes down the canal path. Michael had smiled and reached for Macy’s hand. Right at that moment, his touch burned her. She’d pulled away. The look of bewilderment on his face made her feel ashamed. From then on, it was just easier not to share her and Emma’s special place with him.

  Macy was okay being in that space with Cam, because she wasn’t trying to replace Emma; Cam wasn’t trying to do anything but come to terms with what was on her own plate.

  Macy watched her out of the corner of her eye. Cam had a cute, androgynous look to her, one that she pulled off well with her smooth skin, stylish hair, and lean body. Obviously gay, Macy thought, then she wondered whether Cam and Emma would hit it off if Emma was still there, and if that would have made Macy jealous. Yes, Macy thought. Very jealous.

  Macy turned toward a rustling near the riverbank, and she thought about seeing otters and beavers and squirrels near there with Emma and J-man.

  Thinking of squirrels, her mind drifted to a time at her in-laws’ when Jeremiah was little and she and Jack were still married. She and J-man lazed around under one of Russ and Eileen’s shade trees, while inside, Jack raided his dad’s tool chest. J-man rambled over to her and climbed into her lap. She directed his gaze to two squirrels playing tag along a tree trunk. Several moments later, Macy watched as one of the squirrels hurled the other from the tree, right into a tabby cat’s ready claws. She thanked God J-man’s attention had already drifted to something else. He glanced up only briefly from the He-Man figure he was playing with.

  Macy thought about the squirrels a lot after seeing that. She’d even told Emma about the incident one afternoon out at the river. Emma said she’d read somewhere that squirrels of different troops would do things like that if one strayed into the other’s territory.

  “Troops?” Macy had asked. Emma said she didn’t know if she had read that term somewhere or made it up, but it didn’t matter to Macy. She loved it.

  When Macy had commented that people had similar tendencies, Emma agreed then swore she’d never throw Macy from a tree.

  As Macy and Cam walked, Cam told her about a time she and Jess tried to feed a stray dog. They were luring it toward them, when a man came out of nowhere, waved a badminton racket at them, and chased them away.

  “Aunt Jess was devastated. She was worried the incident would make me afraid to do good things. So, we drove around all day until we finally found a real stray to feed.”

  “That sounds so much like her.” It reminded Macy of something Emma would do, too.

  Cam walked over to the weathered, crumbling wall and looked out over the river. “She was terrific, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, she was,” Macy said, referring to both Jess and Emma.

  Cam leaned against the wall and ran her fingers along the rough surface. “The last time I saw Aunt Jess, I said some pretty hurtful things to her.”

  Macy had guessed that something had transpired between them.

  “I was only twelve. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just hurt that she’d let my mom come waltzing back into town and take me away from her.”

  “I’m sure she understood,” Macy said.

  Cam dug her fingernails into the wall. “Was there a funeral?”

  “Sharon said maybe we’d have a memorial service when she gets back. Something small.”

  “She hasn’t been buried someplace already?”

  “She was cremated.”

  Cam shuddered.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “No, not really. It’s just not something I’ve ever imagined.” She sighed, fought back tears. “I feel like such a dork. After I found out she had cancer, I walked that last little bit to her house and had the goofiest fantasy.”

  When Cam looked at her, Macy didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest.

  Cam went on. “I imagined her sitting on the sofa, with her legs crossed under her. I’d tell her she looked beautiful, and I’d mean it. She’d shyly rub the stubble on her head, and I’d offer to shave my own, you know, as a symbol of solidarity.” She heaved a loud sigh. “So much for that, huh?”

  Macy paused for a few moments before speaking. She hoped the kid wouldn’t get her crying, too. “Look, Cam, I hope you aren’t beating yourself up over not getting here in time to see Jess. She wouldn’t want that.”

  “I just feel so lost. I always imagined having all the time in the world to show her she’d done a good job with me. Now she’ll never know.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  Cam didn’t answer right away, just stared out across the brown water. “If she’s watching right now, what would you guess she’s thinking?”

  “That you’re a fine young woman, and that she can’t wait to see what you’ll make of yourself.”

  “That I still need quite a bit of work.”

  “Don’t we all, though,” Macy said.

  “Not you. You’re pretty and smart and a great mother to Jeremiah. And a good girlfriend for Michael.”

  Macy felt uncomfortable. Not only did she not feel like she was those things, she didn’t want anyone else to feel them about her.

  “You think you and Michael will get married one day?”

  She started to say no, thought of J-man, and said, “Maybe.”

  “What about kids?”

  Macy had enjoyed being pregnant but didn’t know if she’d ever choose to be pregnant. With J-man, she just was.

  “I’m getting too personal. Sorry.”

  Macy waved off the apology. “You have other family, right?”

  “My mom’s in Maryland. She’s kind of in and out of my life. Pretty much always has been.”

  “So, it’s just you two?”

  “Yeah. Now.” Cam shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. “What’s Sharon like?”

  “Super nice. She and Jess were great together.” Macy sighed. “You know, Sharon’s not sure when she’s coming back.”

  “She knows I’m here, right?”

  Macy nodded. That morning Michael had told her that Sharon wasn’t interested in coming back to Augusta yet, especially not to see a snotty-nosed niece who’d hurt Jess the way Cam had. Sharon was taking time for herself in the mountains, where she and Jess had loved to vacation, and would come back in a week or two, as planned. The bottom line: Cam was not her responsibility.

  “What did Sharon say about me being here?”

  Macy shrugged.

  “Really, I want to know.”

  “Sh
e’s got a lot to deal with now, so don’t take it personally. She’s just not interested in connecting with you.”

  “She’s hoping I’ll be gone by the time she gets back.”

  “I don’t know.” Macy wiped at the sweat collecting at her hairline. “Do you know what you’ll do now?”

  “You think I could find a job around here? I don’t really want to go back to Maryland right now. I have nowhere I need to be. Pretty pathetic, huh?”

  “I imagine there’s something you could do here.” Macy studied Cam’s lanky frame and watched the young woman push at a twig with her shoe. If Macy’s life often felt like a Tilt-A-Whirl, she imagined that Cam felt like she was stranded on a stalled Ferris wheel.

  Chapter Nine

  Whirligigs

  Kenny was the first one at the shop. He piddled around a bit, rinsing the coffee mugs everyone always left in the break room. If Dori had gotten anything through his thick head, it was to not leave coffee mugs sitting around getting stained. He ran water into the mug and knew it was too late—the coffee goo at the bottom wasn’t coming out. While he watched the water and the stain melt into the color of a puddle, he thought that he could be one of those metaphor things. My life’s a puddle.

  He stepped away from the sink and the coffee mugs when he heard someone fiddling with the shop door. He knew it wasn’t Tank, because he’d gone fishing in Florida for a week. It sure wasn’t Gary. He never came in that early. And since their sometime receptionist, Miss Anna, wasn’t scheduled for that day, Kenny figured it had to be his new trainee. Macy had talked to her neighbor Alan, who knew Kenny’s boss, Martin, and Kenny got stuck training this new kid, Cam. What girl wanted to work in a cabinet shop, for Christ’s sake?

  To make matters worse, the chick hadn’t done any more work than sacking groceries or hostessing a restaurant, but here was Kenny, having to teach her stuff. At least it was Macy or her boyfriend stuck driving the girl to the shop mornings, and not one of the other workers.