While I'm Falling - By Laura Moriarty Page 0,108

the dog, if it’s really only for a week. She’s in nursing school right now. She’s never home. That’s why my brother’s in Oregon.”

My mother gave the envelope a worried look. She may have been thinking of Haylie’s little brother, but she may have also been realizing that even this new, best option would not be painless. If it’s only for a week. In any other situation, in our old life, this would have been such a hesitant invitation that my mother never would have accepted. She and Haylie’s mother had been friendly, maybe more than acquaintances. But I don’t think they were ever good friends. Now, however, my mother couldn’t worry about imposing. So if this was all that could be granted, even with conditions, fine.

“Thank you, Simone,” my mother said. She put the envelope in her lap.

Haylie looked embarassed. I couldn’t tell if it was the “thank you” or the “Simone” she didn’t want. But I understood right then that I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d come all this way to find us. Whatever she’d tried to turn herself into over these last two years, some part of her must have remembered what it was like to have everything fall apart. Really, it would have been more surprising if she had laughed at Jimmy’s story and not worried about my mother at all.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She looked at me for just a moment. “I’m sorry about this morning, what he did.”

My mother nodded. “You didn’t do it, hon. You’re not him.”

It was a nice thing to say, maybe the nicest thing possible, given the circumstances. But Haylie looked newly burdened. It was as if my mother, in exchange for the gift of the envelope, had presented her with a problem. She tightened the sash of her red coat.

“I’ve got to go,” she said.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

She only considered it for a moment. “Not a good idea,” she said. “I’m on my way home.” She turned and started walking back to the bus stop. Halfway there, she stopped. My mother and I didn’t speak to each other; we didn’t pretend to do anything but watch. Haylie stood still for a minute, maybe two, her hands in the pockets of her coat. She walked to the front steps of the dorm.

She was still there, sitting on the top step, when I got out of the van. She stared straight ahead, her elbows on her knees, her pretty chin resting in her hands. On my way up the steps, I asked her again if she needed a ride. My mother waved from the idling van, but Haylie again shook her head.

She was fine, she said. She was thinking.

15

MY MOTHER SAID THAT Pamela O’Toole, formerly Pamela Butterfield, was a kind hostess, especially considering how busy she was, and how small her apartment was, and the fact that she didn’t really like dogs. My mother tried to be a considerate guest. She cooked. She tidied up. She kept her things in neat stacks behind the couch where she slept. She only used the shower when Pamela was at nursing school, and she took her sheets off the couch every morning. When Pamela came home, ready to study at the kitchen table, my mother took their dirty clothes to the Laundromat, or she went with Bowzer for long walks, or she just drove him around in the van. So it wasn’t exactly Kate & Allie. The apartment was too small for both of them. But they had some good conversations: they talked of ex-husbands and daughters and former neighbors; they compared their descents and sometimes laughed. For the most part, however, my mother felt cramped and awkward and irrationally annoyed for having to work so hard not to be a burden, and she was always terrified the dog would pee, or worse, on the floor. During the week she stayed with Pamela, she said the three words she said more than any others were “thank you” and “sorry.”

It got tiring, she said, being grateful.

There was more gratitude to come. The paycheck my mother had been waiting for was not enough to cover both a security deposit and the first month’s rent, and so she went to one of her friends at the mall, Maxine, for help. Maxine told her she was being ridiculous about the dog. She told my mother she was not thinking reasonably or making the best use of her resources. But she also gave my mother a

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