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She nods. “Text me when you’re ready to go home.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Inside Michelle’s house, I am pleased to see she has not even opened the door to the spare bedroom that we used for staging the things she will eventually get rid of. This time she has invited Suzie to be her support during the process. I’m pleased to have her here, like Cindy, it will be so beneficial for Michelle, and I get a chance to get to know another of my new friends better.
“Today, we tackle shoes and purses.” I announce to an anxious Michelle. Suzie is maintaining a kind expression. I swear she should be a pastor’s wife with her ability to look so serene. There is no wine tonight. Apparently Suzie doesn’t drink unless there is an occasion for it, and a declutter project is not, in Suzie’s mind, an occasion, I suppose. A giggle lingers in the back of my throat, recalling Michelle’s declaration that she needed the wine when things got emotional. And they always get emotional. I wonder if Suzie will change her mind when it’s her turn.
Like before, I lay out three towels and ask Michelle to sort her purses by placing them in piles representing: Keep or special event, haven’t used in over a year (not counting special event purses), and broken, worn out, or otherwise not usable.
I step back and let Suzie help her talk through the sorting. While they work, I sort through Michelle’s makeup that is everywhere across her vanity table. I am sorting it for her as we visit. “Do y’all know Crazy Kate?” I ask in a conversational tone.
“Well,” Michelle looks up from the two handbags in each of her hands. “Sure, everybody knows Crazy Kate.”
I nod, putting like things together and checking to see if the makeup is dried up or otherwise used up. “Any idea what might be going on in her life to make her… really sad?”
“No.” Suzie looks at me as if she expects me to tell them what I think is wrong with Kate.
“Hmm. Something is going on, but she won’t tell me what it is.” I put empty vessels of makeup dispensers in my lap to throw away.
Michelle shrugs, “Who knows with that woman. She’s missing some queens and threes.”
I frown. I get that Kate is eccentric but she’s not harmful. And I really don’t think she’s special needs, she seems pretty smart to me.
“I really like Kate.” I state without scolding my friends for their comment. “Anyway…” I change the subject, because obviously they don’t understand my concern. “I’ve organized your makeup. See?”
I’ve got lipsticks, eyebrow pencils, blush, eye shadow, mascara, and moisturizers all sorted and organized in a long rectangular basket that Cindy bought yesterday. Unusable dispensers I hold in my hands and head for the trash receptacle in the bathroom. I will take the sack out and replace it, so that the used-up makeup will be completely gone when I’m done tonight.
After they finish sorting the purses, we take a break so that I can get Michelle out of her bedroom while Suzie moves the two piles that are not “Keep” piles into the spare bedroom. She will box up the ones to donate and use a big black trash bag for the unusable pile.
Suzie joins us in the kitchen while we order Chinese delivery and open bottles of water. I don’t want Michelle to start sorting her shoes and have to stop because the food arrives. It will interfere with her progress if she gets in a good zone while sorting. So, we wait for the delivery and visit about work. Michelle always has a humorous story about a bank customer. Suzie works behind a desk at the Deadwood Chamber of Commerce. She serves as the Director of the Visitors Bureau and tells us about exciting plans for Wild Bill Days in June. She lists a lot of fun activities including a porker contest. My ears perk up at the mention. I tell them my woes about Kiley and the flip side being that I found a mechanic who gets me and is willing to work on her.
“If it weren’t for Kate, I don’t know what I’d do.” I add just to reinforce how much I like her.
“But,” Michelle looks at me quizzically. “You don’t actually pay her to take you around, do you? She’s not a legal taxi.”
“Oh, no.” I lie without a twitch or blink of my eye. “I reimburse her for gas, sure. But she’s just helping me out, and I help her in return.”
Two sets of eyes glare at me. Neither lady is buying my fib and I know it. But we all let the subject rest like a sleeping bobcat we don’t want to disturb. The doorbell rings and Michelle rushes to the door. We eat and clean up, then return to her bedroom. She is not surprised that only one pile of purses is left on her bed. She’s becoming accustomed to my system. I break open the command hooks, while Michelle and Suzie stick them to the interior of Michelle’s closet and hang the “keep” purses. I keep a few hooks and attach them to the wall around the mirror. Then I hang the scarves she had draped on her mirror. Now they are out of the way of her reflection.
“Now, let’s do the same thing with these shoes.” I pull out shoe boxes, crates overflowing with footwear, and empty a small bookshelf she has adapted to hold the shoes. “Keep the shoeboxes,” I state. “And hang this on the inside of her closet door.” I direct Suzie.
Michelle knows the drill, she starts sorting the shoes. There are incomplete sets and broken or worn out sneakers, flip flops, and sandals. There are dress shoes, casual shoes, and boots. An hour and a few tears later we are ready to put everyday wear in the hanging shoe holder, dressy shoes we put in the shoeboxes to keep them nice. I take a picture of the shoes before putting them in the boxes. Michelle has a printer in a nook beside her kitchen for bill paying and such, I print the photos out and tape it to the end of the shoebox so she can see what is inside without opening it.
By ten o’clock we have everything back in order and the spare bedroom needing to be emptied. Although I originally didn’t want to, I’m hoping Kate won’t mind if I put all these boxes and trash bags in the back of her Bronco. I could sit up front to make more room, and unload Michelle’s discarded stuff into my garage, since Kiley isn’t there right now. I need to give Michelle something to occupy her mind while Suzie and I load the discarded stuff into Kate’s car.
“I’m ready to go home.” I text Kate. “But would you mind if I bring some boxes and trash bags with me to unload in my garage?”
A marquee of three dots tells me she is commenting.
Finally, it comes through. “Sure.”
What else had she typed and deleted to have taken that long to respond with one word?
I take “after” pictures of Michelle’s closet, vanity table, and dresser with my phone for my portfolio and turn to the girls. “Michelle, you have done so good. I’m really proud of you. Why don’t you go take a luxurious bath, and Suzie and I will lock up when we leave?”
“What are y’all going to do?” She asks.
“When Kate gets here, we are going to clear out your spare bedroom so you can use it again.”
