Mrs. Saint and the Defectives

“I do not believe so,” Frédéric said. “I cannot think of why Angeline would tell her. She knew that Carol did not want me near my daughter. I believe if Patty found out who I was and told Carol she had found me, Carol would have forbidden them from ever coming over again.

“I think Angeline believed this as well. I think she kept the truth from Patty to protect me from losing my child again. And to protect Patty and Lola from losing us. We have been the steady hands in their lives.”

Markie nodded slowly, and despite herself, despite how exasperated she had been with her secret-keeping, sneaky, pushy neighbor since the day they met, she felt her mouth curving into a smile as she looked up to where Frédéric was standing. It was the same place Mrs. Saint had stood on move-in day, Frédéric to her right and Bruce to her left.

Markie had been annoyed by the old woman already by then; she had pushed into the house while Markie was away, rummaged in Markie’s moving boxes for a glass, elicited personal information from Jesse, and made it known she felt it was a mistake they didn’t own a dog. Markie had vowed to herself that day that she was not going to let some irascible old Frenchwoman barge into her house on a regular basis and try to exert influence over her life.

That she would not accept one more offer of help from the pushy old woman, or from any of her employees, and that she didn’t plan on helping them, either. That she wasn’t going to get involved, because she didn’t need any of them, and neither did Jesse. That they were fine, the two of them, keeping to themselves with their frozen dinners in their separate rooms, and that’s how things would remain.

Markie smiled wider as she imagined Mrs. Saint in heaven, standing primly in her St. John suit and her pearl earrings and heels, God and her parents and brother and sister at her side as she peered down into the bungalow, raised her fists in the air, and said, “Och! Can you believe this one, thinking she knew better than me?”





Epilogue


“Good morning, Markie!” Frédéric called from the open door of the screened porch as Markie stepped from the bungalow onto the patio.

From a chair on the other side of the screen, the shadowy form of Patty rasped, “Hey, neighbor.”

Markie called a greeting back as she made her way across both lawns and up the steps to the porch. She reached up to kiss Frédéric’s cheek as she passed through the door. “Lovely day, isn’t it? Finally, some warmth!” She tugged at the hood of her sweatshirt. “Don’t think I need this after all.”

“Indeed,” Frédéric said. “I have been admiring the garden. Finally, the beginnings of flowers.” He gestured to some newly sprouted growth bordering the fence. “She loved this time of year. All the color, the new life, after months of drab and cold.”

Markie squeezed his arm. “I’m not surprised. She was the opposite of dull and lifeless. Hey, did Jesse tell you yesterday? He aced another history test. I really should be paying you for this.”

“You are,” he said. “My granddaughter is now in the second-highest reading group in her class, thanks to your boy.” Jesse had long since paid his debt to the Levins, but he was still walking Lola to and from school, and helping her with her homework. He refused to let Frédéric pay him for either.

“So I heard,” Markie said, looking from him to Patty and smiling. “Congratulations.”

“Not so fast,” Patty said. “She’ll be smarter than me soon, and I don’t know if I need that.”

“Of course, this is not at all true,” Frédéric said, taking the chair to Patty’s right.

To Patty’s left sat Kyle, who, at Frédéric and Markie’s urging, had recently taken over Frédéric’s roles as overseer of employees and general handyman responsible for both properties. Frédéric was too old for the job, he told Kyle, and he wanted to spend more time with Lola. He was eager to hire someone to replace him, so he was thrilled when Markie told him about Kyle’s construction experience. Kyle had resisted at first, worrying aloud that he lacked the work ethic to adequately fill the older man’s shoes. He had a long history of letting people down, he said. He didn’t want to disappoint his ex-wife and son again, or the people who had become so important to them.

Frédéric gestured to the bungalow and the rebuilt home on the other side of the fence and said, “In these two houses, we believe in second chances.” Markie nodded her agreement, and when Kyle asked if there was really enough work to justify a full-time salary, she said, “Actually, I’ve been thinking it could be a good idea to rebuild the garage and put an apartment on top. Seems like the kind of job that could keep a builder and his teenage helper busy for a long time.”

Kyle’s daily presence hadn’t made Trevorandtheguys disappear, but a few weeks earlier, Jesse had brought Glenn home, a well-mannered boy who, Jesse told his mother later, was on the honor roll and student council and had plans to go to law school. Kyle put the two boys to work for a while and then took them to dinner, and Jesse told Markie after that it was the best afternoon he’d had in a long time. Glenn had come back several times since, enough that although Markie still cringed when she saw the name Trevor light up on Jesse’s phone screen, she was feeling hopeful, if not entirely confident, about the path her son would ultimately choose.

Now Markie took the porch seat next to her ex-husband and exchanged good mornings with him and Patty before asking if there had been any word from Carol. Patty’s mother had been rushed to the hospital after an overdose weeks earlier, and when Patty and Lola tried to visit, a nurse informed them Carol had requested they not be allowed into her room. They had driven her to the overdose by abandoning her for other people, Carol claimed, and she feared seeing their traitorous faces would push her to OD again.

Lola was crushed, while Patty, who had dealt regularly with her mother’s silent treatments, was incensed. She returned on her own the following day to let her mother know she needed to stop her passive-aggressive tantrum immediately, for her granddaughter’s sake. But when she arrived, the nurse informed her Carol had had a male visitor in the morning, and she had (against medical advice) walked out with him, refusing to leave a phone number or address. Since then, Carol hadn’t answered Patty’s calls or come to the door on the many occasions her daughter had gone to her apartment to check on her.

“Still nothing,” Patty said.

“She will turn up,” Frédéric said. “I believe this.”

“I’m sure that’s right,” Markie said as she produced a jar of jam from the pocket of her sweatshirt and set it on the coffee table. “Thought we could use more. Raspberry this time, like Bruce requested.” She checked her watch. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Ronda has burned the tops of the muffins,” Frédéric said. “Bruce is helping her cut them off. We will have muffin bottoms and jam today, if this is acceptable.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kyle said.

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