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“Do you cook?” Jessie asks as she roams back to the kitchen. “I have a brand-new frittata pan I could bring over for you. My son gave it to me for Christmas, but I can’t stand eggs. Do you like eggs?”
“Yeah, sure. I guess so.”
“They are a good source of protein. That’s what he told me. He’s a personal trainer and always on me to eat healthy. I don’t listen, but that doesn’t stop him from talking!” Her laugh permeates the small apartment. She stops abruptly and puts her hands on her hips. “Well, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Cook
.”
“When I have to, I guess. It’s not my strong point. I’m more likely to nuke my evening meal than anything else. I haven’t managed to get to the grocery yet, so all I have right now is some microwavable noodle bowls.”
“I guess that will do for now.”
“Does your son live here in town?”
“Oh, no! He moved down to Florida a few years back—his sister, too. They keep getting on me about moving down there or at least becoming a snowbird, but I like the change of the seasons. I’ve lived here my whole life and don’t plan to change it!”
“You have two children, then?”
“Four!” Jessie laughs heartily. “Can you believe that? Three with my husband. He was a package deal, so I was stepmom to the oldest, Richard. Being a stepmom is so difficult. You need them to follow all the rules and do what’s expected, and all you get for your troubles is, ‘You’re not my real mom!’ He’s in his late twenties now, and we get along just fine, but when he was a teenager—look out!”
I smile, wondering what it would have been like to grow up in a house full of people.
“Do you have brother and sisters?” Jessie asks.
“Me? Oh, no. It was just me and my aunt.”
“No cousins?”
“None.” I try to smile.
“Hmm.” She taps her finger against her chin, and then her eyes go wide. “Look at me, all up in your business and not giving you a chance to get your place in order.” Jessie sprints the ten feet from the kitchen to the living room and wraps me in a bear hug. “If you need anything at all, you just let me know!”
“Thanks! I’ll do that.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Jessie says as she heads out the door and then suddenly stops. “Oh my lord, I didn’t even ask your name!”
“That’s okay,” I say with a chuckle. “It’s Cherry. Cherry Bay.”
“Well, it is a pleasure to be your neighbor, Cherry Bay!”
“It was great to meet you, Jessie.” I consider shaking her hand, but since we’ve already hugged, the point seems moot. “Thanks a bunch for the cookies!”
“More where those came from! I love to bake!” She pats her stomach and laughs. She heads across the hall, singing the lyrics to Mister Roger’s Neighborhood.
I shut the door and drop back down on the couch, carefully avoiding the armrest and feeling completely exhausted by the encounter. I take a long breath and grab myself a cookie. I nibble it slowly as I stare into space, trying to imagine growing up with brothers and sisters, a father, cousins—all of that. It seems like the house would constantly hum with activity, conversation, and laughter.
I had none of that.
Love and support I had, but only from Aunt Ginny. We occasionally had visitors come to the house, but they were mostly her friends. I never quite developed the knack for friend-making, and after Aunt Ginny passed, the visitors quickly vanished, leaving me alone.
I swallow hard, fighting back the tears.
“This is why I’m here,” I say softly. “I’m going to find my family—my real family.”
Chapter 2—Blocked
