comments were harmless enough—Do you think you’ll get a job?—but Sadie always found a way to take offense. That calm sense of being alone faded with her there, tromping up and down the stairs, reading aloud to her dad, asking me question after question about his care.
Not that John seemed to notice she was here. He looked at everyone like a curious chickadee, head tilted. Or he’d fall asleep in the middle of a conversation.
Even in his current state, he could make me feel irrelevant. It wasn’t a fair thought, but it came nevertheless.
One night, Sadie plunked herself down in the sitting room, where I was knitting a rainbow sweater for Sloane. John was in the dining room, and the TV we’d moved from his study was on. “Mom,” she said, “I think I’m going to move out.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” There it was, the edge to her voice.
“Okay, then.” Sometimes there was nothing to do but agree with my younger daughter. Truth be told, it was no picnic having her here.
“I’ll come over every day after LeVon leaves and help out till Dad’s bedtime.”
I sighed. “I’m finding a home health aide to keep an eye on him when I’m not here.”
“I just said I’ll do it.”
“And I just said no.” My voice was sharp. “It’s not your job to take care of your father. He’d hate that, and you know it. You’ve been real great, Sadie, and of course you can visit and spend as much time here as you like. But you should be living your own life. So go ahead. Move out. There’s a real cute fixer-upper that just came on the market if you’re looking to buy. Then again, I don’t know how much you make with those paintings of yours, or if you’ve managed to save anything on a teacher’s salary, or if that rich boyfriend of yours is ever going to propose, but let me know if I can help.”
Sadie’s jaw was like iron, because of course I said the wrong thing. I always did to her way of thinking. “I’ll come over every day, Mom.”
“Good. That’d be real nice for your father.”
“Great.” She stood up and left the room.
Always the two of us rubbing each other the wrong way, scraping and chafing like corduroy pants that were too tight.
John’s phone chimed. I kept it with me at all times for obvious reasons.
Ah, WORK. She was a faithful correspondent, that was for sure.
Baby, me so horny! LOL!!! But totally true, too! R U back from Cali? Hope U R not too sad!!!
Broken heart, red heart, smiley face blowing kisses, a cat with heart eyes, a lipstick imprint, a smiling devil, fire and, inexplicably, a chicken. Best not to know why that poor chicken was included.
So this was love? This was what John had wanted? A semiliterate lover who communicated through tiny cartoons?
I had been texting WORK for weeks now. John’s mother, may she rest in peace having died before Sadie was born, had once again gone on to her great reward . . . at least, that’s what I told WORK. Guess John and his lover had never gotten around to talking about family, too busy being new and happy and horny again.
The estate, I had told the other woman, was complicated with many valuable pieces of art and furniture to be dealt with. Not to mention the house on the water in Santa Barbara. The response had been immediate:
OMG! I love SB! Babe, do U need company??? I can come help and we could spend some time together doing all sorts of dirty things! LOL!
An emoji of an eggplant had followed. Caro hooted over that one. “You are too much, Barb! Hey. If WORK is a moneygrubbing whore, she deserves what’s coming.”
I set my knitting aside and considered what to write. It was probably time for John to come home from his poor mother’s second funeral. I put on my reading glasses, glanced to make sure Sadie wasn’t hovering, and typed.
Baby, me so horny, too!!!! Not too sad, bc Mom was 105. I didn’t know she was such an art collector! The Sotheby’s guy went cray-cray.
John’s IQ had dropped well before his accident, so I felt no compunction about making him sound like an idiot.
WORK: Really??? Can’t wait to hear!!!
“I bet you can’t,” I muttered.
JOHN: So many wonderful surprises! Much to discuss. When can we meet??? I miss U!!!
WORK: ANYTIME! Love you so much, tiger!!!
I sighed.
JOHN: Will be