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sixteen
“Thaddeus can’t come to Thanksgiving, Auntie El. He’s got plans with his own family.” Tabitha slid her massage lotion into her bag and thought about what else she might need. Maybe her paperwork, with the neck routine written out on it, or the sheet where she’d jotted down her teacher’s notes on how to do the Jelly Jar on the arm and shoulder. She put those notes in her bag, then took them back out again. What was her problem? Never once had Tabitha packed and repacked when she’d been heading out to do a massage. Now that it was Hobbs, her anxiety was through the roof, despite having just spent half an hour on her meditation app. The session had been half an hour of focused positivity while the sounds of water pouring over rocks and trickling into a stream had punctuated the gaps of silence. Ten minutes of that and Tabitha had got sick of the woman’s voice and the water made her have to pee and now she was less relaxed than when she’d started.
“Have you seen him again?” Auntie El hovered her pen over the crossword and peered at Tabitha over the top of her glasses. She’d slept in again this morning and was now trying to finish her puzzle with a groggy, after-dinner attitude. “All I hear about is your drinks last week and then nothing.”
Tabitha sighed and glanced down at Trinity, an apologetic look on her face as she waited patiently to leave. The pittie knew the bag meant business and she also knew that Auntie El’s questions often made Tabitha tense, so Trinity was ready to offer support and also eager to get in the car. “I don’t know what to tell you. We just had drinks and talked. But it was so loud and I was uncomfortable.” She shrugged. “At least I didn’t have a panic attack. I haven’t really had one of those since my first day at massage school.”
That had happened right after Joy had explained that a large part of their grade was devoted to doing student massage exchanges on a weekly basis. First, Tabitha had felt the trembling start. The sweat came next, followed by the pounding of her heart. Luckily, Joy had noticed something amiss and had called for a lunch break. As everyone left, she approached Tabitha, tucked away in the back corner of the room, moved a few desks out of the way and helped Tabitha onto the floor where Trinity could climb on her chest. Then she’d left her alone and the attack had passed before any of the other students returned. Joy had never mentioned it again, though she did often look Tabitha’s way with prolonged pauses, as though watching out for her. That was the day Tabitha had known that Joy was a superhero.
“Are you going to see Thaddeus again, or not?” Auntie El slugged down the rest of her tea, which she had every afternoon with two Biscoff cookies, set on a matching saucer. “Six-letter word forheavenly.” She counted the squares with the tip of her pen.
“He’s awfully busy,” Tabitha said. “And his schedule is unpredictable. Lawyers put in a lot of hours. You remember how he couldn’t make coffee and we had to force in drinks. He hasn’t been available since, but we’ve been talking.” Not that Tabitha cared, really. Thaddeus had waited three full days after their date to text again. She only texted Thaddeus back because she wanted to be polite and they’d known each other a long time. It’d felt like catching up with an old buddy from high school who you realized you no longer had much in common with. Right now, all Tabitha cared about was not messing up this massage with Hobbs. Just the thought of putting her hands on his bare skin and rubbing his muscles was making her stomach do flips.Oh, Lord, give me strength.
“Talking?” Auntie El wrinkled her nose.
Tabitha held up her phone. “Texting.”
Auntie El pulled a face. “That’s not talking. You kids with your gadgets. In my day, if a man was courting, he had the decency to ask you out proper. There wasn’t any of this tap-tap-tapping on cell phones, with all kinds of ignorant shorthand and little pictures in place of words. In my day, men used real words, Tabitha Jo.” Auntie El shook a forefinger.
They didn’t have cell phones in your day, Auntie El. They’re called emojis, Auntie El. And also:Who are all these men you speak of, Auntie El? You’re almost seventy and you’ve never been married.But that wouldn’t be fair. Tabitha knew that Auntie El had put everything aside to host dozens of foster kids, including her relationship with a guy named Henry, who Tabitha remembered vaguely as a nice, skinny man who wore church clothes all the time, even to picnics, and who called Tabitha Little Miss T. His disappearance, sometime around when Tabitha was eight years old, was explained away as “he moved for work.” Tabitha suddenly wanted to ask Auntie El about Henry, about what really happened. Just maybe they could reconnect over modern-day technology and discover the joys of emoji hearts and kissy-faces.
Tabitha made a joke instead. “I’m sure when your suitors collected you in a horse and buggy for the barn dance, it was simply swoon-worthy.”
Auntie El peered over her glasses again. “You watch, now.”
Tabitha suppressed a laugh. “I have to go, Auntie El. I have a client. For school.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Auntie El barely looked up from her puzzle. “Invite whoever you want, then, for Thanksgiving. It’s next week and I need people to cook for. Most of the church folk got plans this year. I got the reverend coming but that’s all. You can ask your gym friends, if any of them need real food this Thanksgiving. None of this going out for Chinese or heating up microwave trays, or whatever it is these fools do. I don’t know what’s with you young people these days. Maybe you can send each other pictures of dinner instead of eating it.”
“Okay, Auntie El.” Tabitha wasn’t as irritated by Auntie’s crankiness as usual. If she was cranky it meant she was feeling a little better. Still, Tabitha had no intention of inviting anyone here for Thanksgiving. Auntie El’s food was divine but her moods had been so unpredictable lately. “Divine, by the way. Trydivine.” She nodded at the puzzle. “Six-letter word forheavenly.”
“Yep. That’s it.” Auntie El wrote in the word. “Send Thaddeus one of those faces, then. Not the one with the hearts for eyes that Geneva uses for every blessed thing. ‘Let’s play bridge.’ Then a heart face. ‘I just got my nails done.’ Heart face. ‘I done mopped my floor.’ Heart face.” Auntie El shook her head. “Who makes heart eyes over mopping their floor? Send Thaddeus something more modest. Do they have a face in a nice sweater and maybe a flower in its hair? That’d be nice. Don’t let him slip away.”
“Sure, Auntie. I’ll be sure to send Thaddeus the smiley face with the flower in its hair.”
“Where are you going?”
Hannah halted in the doorway, like a child caught sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. She wore her jacket and clutched a set of keys. She turned to face Hobbs, who’d just come out of the shower, and sighed. “I’m borrowing your truck and going for a ride.” She nodded toward the kitchen counter. “I left you a note.”
Hobbs scanned the elegant writing on today’s sheet from his Get Shit Done page-a-day calendar. Underneath the headingShit to Do, where Hobbs had written in his personal training appointments, Hannah had written:Going for a drive. Back soon.
“How long will you be gone?” Because he couldn’t say,You can’t leave.I’ve got someone coming over that I’m tricking into giving you a massage. She’ll be here any minute.
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going a little stir-crazy, Chris. Remember, I’m used to working every day. Doing most of the shopping for Mom. I’ve been here a week and I’m doing nothing but walk the park and cook your meals. I need to get out. Think. Clear my head.”
“I told you that you didn’t have to cook for me. I’m used to feeding myself.”
“That’s not the point.” Hannah’s hand tightened on her purse strap. “I want to cook. I like to cook. It keeps me busy. But I feel trapped. I need to just...go. Without you.” She held up a hand, like Hobbs might approach and offer to drive her around. Which he would do if Tabitha weren’t on the way.
There really wasn’t much more Hobbs could say, without admitting the trick he’d planned. He probably should’ve just asked, but he knew Hannah would’ve got all flustered about him making a fuss and she would’ve said no to the massage. “Okay, just...don’t be long. The sun’s already setting. Text me if you get lost.” He nodded at the keys. “It slips a little in third gear.”
Hannah smiled and turned for the door. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to hit the back roads, so there won’t be a lot of starting and stopping.”
Hobbs went to the window and watched her pull away, then texted Victor to let him know that Hannah was “exploring.” He wasn’t sure if this was good or bad news—did it mean she was feeling more or less homesick?—but one thing he did know was he’d never texted his brother this much in his life. It’d been daily since he left Omaha, and even though Hobbs guessed the texting was done grudgingly, there was no way Victor would let Hannah go without a daily check-in.
Victor texted back.Good she gets out. All fine here. Mom still out of it. Depressed without Hannah. No sign of trouble.
Victor texted like a caveman. Me text. Mom good. No trouble.
