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Back then, shed still believed that someday shed bring her own children here. . . .
With a sigh, she carried her luggage into the house. The downstairs was one big room--a kitchen off to the left, with butter yellow cabinets and white tile counter-tops; a small dining area tucked into the corner (somehow all five of them had eaten at that tiny table); and a living room that took up the rest of the space. A giant river rock fireplace dominated the north-facing wall. Around it were clustered a pair of overstuffed blue sofas, a battered pine coffee table, and Papas worn leather chair. There was no television at the cottage. Never had been.
We talk, Papa had always said when his daughters complained.
"Hey, Papa," she whispered.
The only answer was wind on the windowpanes.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was the sound a rocking chair made, on a hardwood floor, in an unused room. . . .
She tried to outrun the memories, but they were too fast. She felt her control slipping away. With every breath she took, it seemed that time marched on, moved away from her. Her youth was leaving her, as impossible to grasp as the air she breathed in her lonely bed at night.
She let out a heavy breath. Shed been a fool to think things would be different here. Why would they? Memories didnt live on streets or in cities. They flowed in the blood, pulsed with your heartbeat. Shed brought it all with her, every loss and heartache. The weight of it bowed her back, exhausted her.
She climbed the stairs and went into her parents old bedroom. The sheets and blankets were off the bed, of course, no doubt stored in a box in the closet, and the mattress was dusty, but Angie didnt care. She crawled up onto the bed and curled into a ball.
This hadnt been a good idea, after all, coming home. She closed her eyes, listening to the bees buzzing outside her window, and tried to fall asleep.
THE NEXT MORNING, ANGIE WOKE WITH THE SUN. SHE stared up at the ceiling, watching a fat black wolf spider spinning its web.
Her eyes felt gritty and swollen.
Once again shed watered her mattress with memories.
Enough was enough.
It was a decision shed made hundreds of times in the last year. This time she was determined to mean it.
She opened the suitcase, found a change of clothes, and headed for the bathroom. After a hot shower, she felt human again. She brushed her hair into a ponytail, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a red turtleneck sweater, and grabbed her purse off the kitchen table. She was just about to leave for town when she happened to glance out the window.
Outside, Mama sat on a fallen log at the edge of the property. She was talking to someone, moving her hands in those wild gestures that had so embarrassed Angie in her youth.
No doubt the whole family was arguing about whether Angie could be of any use at the restaurant. After last night, she questioned it herself.
She knew that when she stepped out onto the porch, all those voices raised in disagreement would sound like a lawn mower. They would spend an hour arguing over the pros and cons of Angies return.
Her opinion would hardly matter.
She paused at the back door, gathering courage. Forcing a smile, she opened the door and went outside, looking for the crowd.
There was no one here except Mama.
Angie crossed the yard and sat down on the log.
"We knew youd come out sooner or later," Mama said.
"We?"
"Your papa and me. "
Angie sighed. So her mother was still talking to Papa. Grief was something Angie knew well. She could hardly blame her mother for refusing to let go. Still, she couldnt help wondering if this was something to worry about. She touched her mothers hand. The skin was loose and soft. "So what does he have to say about my being home?"
Mama sighed in obvious relief. "Your sisters ask me to see a doctor. You ask me what Papa has to say. Oh, Angela, Im glad youre home. " She pulled Angie into a hug.
For the first time, Mama wasnt dressed to the nines and layered in clothes. She wore only a cable-knit sweater and an old pair of Jordache jeans. Angie could feel how thin shed gotten and it worried her. "Youve lost more weight," she said, drawing back.
