But just as she opened her mouth to speak, the nurse bustled in with the discharge papers, speaking loudly enough to rouse Lilah and giving Zell a pointed look that told her it was time to vacate the premises. She mumbled something about getting out of their way, but no one heard her. She slipped out, feeling vaguely guilty, as though she’d done something wrong, seen something she shouldn’t have.
She stopped and picked up Chinese takeout for dinner, then at the last minute went ahead and picked up some entrées for Debra’s family, too. It wasn’t a homemade meal—she’d see to that tomorrow—but it was food, and it was, after all, dinnertime. She sent John next door with the neighbors’ food, put some out for her own hungry brood, then made it to book club and kept up with the discussion even though she never did finish the book. She sipped wine and made small talk with the other women, all the while thinking about what Debra had said and wondering just what she could do about it. Should she invite her to book club? Offer to keep the kids for her?
It wasn’t until she was doing her stretches before bed that she hit upon an idea. Years later she could still feel the little zing of inspiration that traveled up her spine at the moment she thought of it. She pictured Debra gesturing to her stomach, pointing at Zell’s smaller body. Everything that happened after came from that one idea, which came from that strange encounter in the hospital room when a woman she barely knew bared her soul, admitting something Zell felt quite sure Debra had admitted aloud to no one else. Her confession left Zell feeling responsible. She had never been able to turn away from another person’s pain.
CAILEY
I asked Zell what hurt and she said, “Everything.” I tried to help out, bringing her aspirin and fixing her a Coke in the same blue cup she’d given me that first day. I even remembered a coaster. When Zell got sick, I knew that my days were numbered and I better do everything I had a mind to do right quick. I’d already been on borrowed time ever since Cutter woke up. Mama agreeing to let me stay with Zell those extra days had been nothing short of a miracle, and I wasn’t one to ignore miracles. Zell called those extra days “bonus time.” I didn’t say so, but I liked it that she felt that way. My eyes got all watery when I thought of having to say goodbye. But neither one of us wanted to talk about that yet.
We worked hard to get the yard ready to be approved as a wildlife habitat, finishing up the last items on the punch list, as Zell called it. Truth is, I was sure it was all that working outside in the heat that made Zell sick. I felt bad about it, even though she told me not to give it a minute’s thought. She took the aspirin and drank a little bit of the Coke; then she fell sound asleep, which was my chance.
I’d been meaning to get back over to Mr. Doyle’s house ever since he’d given me that Popsicle, but I swear it wasn’t to see him. I wanted to visit his mama, because he told me she’d been feeling bad. He said that she was getting weaker and weaker and he thought she might die. I drew her a picture I thought might make her happy, and I intended to take it over to her before I left. When Zell asked me about it, I told her it was for Cutter, which she said was really sweet. It was just a little lie.
I opened the door really quietly, but it still made a click when I shut it, so I stood there on the stoop for a few minutes to see if it woke Zell up. I watched her but she didn’t move. I hoped she felt better when she got up. One good thing was that she didn’t have to cook dinner for me that night, as Mama and the Ambulance Guy were taking me out. Just me. The thought of their four eyes staring at me while I ate made my stomach feel quivery, so I tried not to think about it. I didn’t see how I was going to get a bite of food down.
I looked down at the picture in my hands as I walked. I’d drawn a rainbow and a sun and some birds. I didn’t think about it till I was already across the street, but the picture was all things in the sky, which I guessed was where Mr. Doyle’s mama was headed to soon. Up to the sky, with God. I didn’t know if that was the right or wrong thing to draw. Does a person who’s getting ready to go up to heaven want to think about it? Maybe she didn’t.
I had just about convinced myself to go back to Zell’s and draw another picture entirely when Mr. Doyle came out on his front porch and called my name. He yelled it kind of loud, and I was worried somehow Zell would hear and come running outside to shoo me back into her house and get that worried look she got whenever Mr. Doyle’s name came up. Then I remembered how still she was on her couch, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. I looked back at her house, saw no sign of her, turned back, and waved hello.
He said, “Well, Cailey, tell me what brings you this way?” He had a funny smile on his face, like he knew the answer to a riddle I didn’t know.
I held up the picture. “I drew it,” I said. “For your mama.”
He peered at the picture, his glasses sliding down slightly when he did. His mouth was open, and I could smell the coffee he’d been drinking. I had to work hard to keep from wrinkling my nose from the smell. He looked from the picture to me and back again. “You’re a very good artist, Cailey. I think my mother is going to be very pleased to receive this.” He started to reach for it, but I pulled it away. “I—uh—wanted to give it to her myself.” I looked at his face, to see if he was mad. I’d never been inside his house before. I didn’t think anyone had in years except Mr. Doyle, his mother, and Jesse. When I’d eaten the Popsicle, he’d seemed to want to stay outside.
He got that look on his face again, that “answer to the riddle” look, and gave me a little smile. He reached out and ruffled my hair. “Well, sure, Cailey,” he said. “You can come in and give my mother your picture.” He kept his hand on my head, and it felt heavy and warm. He didn’t seem to mind that my head was all sweaty. “You’re a thoughtful girl,” he said. “You don’t see that too much in this world.”
He beckoned me into the house, and I followed him in through the front door, which led into a front room that had a couple of couches and a big TV turned on loud to cartoons, though no one was watching it. I assumed Jesse, who was kind of like an overgrown boy, had been watching it but lost interest. Cutter did that sometimes and he never remembered to turn it off. I had to do that or else my mother lectured us about the cost of electricity and threatened to put the TV in the closet. She’d done it once before so we knew she was serious.
I followed Mr. Doyle back toward the kitchen, still holding my picture. We passed a door that was padlocked. I looked at the lock, then back at him. There must’ve been a funny look on my face because he rushed to explain. “There’s stairs leading down to the basement on the other side of that door. My mother fell down them so I had to lock it up. I can’t always be here, you know.” He waved me on toward the kitchen, and I moved with him, away from the locked door. I’d heard of childproofing but not adult-proofing. I thought about saying that to him, but then wondered if he’d think it was funny. He might not.