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I make my way to the front door, and through the window I see her. She’s fucking gorgeous; tall, willowy, the same gorgeous strawberry blonde hair, and light blue eyes—she can’t be little Haddie Carmichael, but that’s her. I open the front door.
“Hey Haddie, how are you?”
“I’m good, Chris.” She leans in just enough so I can smell the light fruity scent of her. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“T-Thanks. Come on in. I was just getting ready to make her some soup. Should I wait?” I scrub a hand over my head.
“No, if she’s hungry she should eat. I gave myself plenty of time here before my next patient.”
I tell her Mom’s in the family room and she follows me down the hall.
“Mom, look who’s here.”
Haddie steps into the room. “Hi, Mrs. Anderson. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Joe’s sister.”
“Well, didn’t you grow up to be a beauty, and please, call me Madison.” Mom opens her arms and smiles as Haddie leans down to give her a hug.
I leave them to talk while I make Mom some soup. I pause because I hear Mom laughing, a sound I swore I’d never hear again, and it makes me smile.
Once the soup’s done, I carry it out on a tray with her meds. I find them sitting side by side and looking at Haddie’s phone. “What are you guys doing?”
My mom smiles up at me. “Haddie was just showing me pictures of Abby’s children. They’re all so beautiful.” She turns to Haddie. “I finally met Joe’s wife. She sure is pretty and he seems so happy.”
“She’s great, and they just found out they’re having a boy.”
Mom looks at me. “Did you know that, Chris? I’ll have to get online and get them a gift.” Joe’s wife does not like me, not that I can blame her. When they came to a party here I said some things to her that I’m not proud of.
Joe and I are still friends, but these days we don’t see each other much. He’s all domesticated now—I’m happy for him, but I’m clearly not in a relationship and don’t really plan on it. Maybe one day Chloe will forgive me for being a douche, but I’m not holding my breath.
After Mom eats her soup, Haddie helps her stand, bends to grab her bag, and disappears down the hall with her.
I rinse off the dishes, stick them in the dishwasher, and then head outside. I find the riding lawnmower in the shed, and push it out into the yard. After I gas it up, I climb on and start it up—I can’t remember the last time I did this—junior high…maybe? How pathetic is that?
It takes me a good half hour to finish, and after I put the riding mower away, I run inside to check on Mom. I step into my parents’ bedroom and put my ear to the door. The shower is running and I can hear their voices muffled through the door.
I head back outside and grab the weed whacker, and work on the edges of the lawn. By the time I’m done my shirt is sopping wet. I pull it off and toss it on the railing of the deck, but I’m proud, because when I look around, the yard actually looks pretty good. After locking the shed up, I turn around finding Haddie standing on the steps.
I don’t miss her eyes on my bare chest, or the way her cheeks turn pink, but she quickly looks away. “I’m all finished with your mom. She was worn out by the time we finished and she’s lying down. I’ll be back on Wednesday.”
Haddie disappears around the side of the house. I shouldn’t follow her, but that doesn’t stop me from doing it. She’s already throwing her bag in her car when I reach her. “Wait up.” Haddie stops and turns to me. “Thanks for being so good with her. This has been so hard on her.”
Her eyes soften as she walks toward me. “I hate this for your family. She’s always treated my family with such kindness.”
“It’s pancreatic.” She nods. I know she’s in nursing school, so she’s got to know how bad that is. “Yeah, she did two rounds of chemo, but decided she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her time sick. It’s comfort measures only.”
Haddie nods. “Can’t say I blame her.” She looks at her watch. “I really need to get going to my next patient. It was good seeing you, Chris.” She climbs into her car and I watch her back out of the driveway.
I shrug into my black fitted suit jacket and step in front of the mirror, straightening the collar of my white dress shirt. I look closely and don’t miss the lines around my eyes. I’m twenty-six years old, but today I feel so much older.
My body aches, my head hurts, and I’ve got the fucking shakes. I know why, I haven’t drank in a week, or done any other illegal substance. I’m having fucking withdrawals and it scares me, but I’m trying to power through it.
Yesterday I went to the pharmacy and got myself some vitamins and a cleanse to hopefully get myself through this. In the bathroom I grab the bottle of ibuprofen and shake a couple pills into my hand, then pop them in my mouth.
I run my hands through my dark blond hair. It’s over a month past due for a cut, but it’s so far down on my priority list. Instead I add a little wax, rubbing it through my hair until its slicked back enough that’s it’s not hanging in my face.
In my kitchen I grab the file for the property I’m showing today. It’s a horse farm with the land sitting right off the marshes of the Atlantic Ocean. The owners never had children to pass it down to and are moving to Florida.
The husband kept the property in good shape even though it’s been a few years since they had any horses. The couple looking to buy are in their thirties with little kids. The husband breeds Arabians.
