same moment it occurred to me with the kind of clarity I hadn’t experienced in some time that
Geoffrey didn’t love me anymore
. Crazy as it seemed, I felt certain that was the truth. And I felt just as certain that it was time to go. The chenille blanket was still wrapped around my shoulders, and I realized that it really belonged to me and that I was going to take it with me. But why stop at the blanket? There were several items that Geoffrey would never want or need or even miss. Things I had picked out to comfort me and make this house more to my tastes, cozier.
And so I found a few boxes and laundry baskets, and I began to gather candles, pillows, linens, dishes—special things I had selected and Geoffrey had tolerated—and to take those things out to the Range Rover.
“Looks like you’re moving,” called my neighbor Elaine as she watered a pot of petunias in front of her house.
“Just clearing out a few things,” I called back to her. I wasn’t eager to have all of Stafford in on our personal business just yet. And everyone knew that Elaine Hodges was something of a gossip.
“You getting rid of those?” she called, coming closer, the hose hanging limply in her hand as she peered at the stack of jewel-toned pillows in my arms.
“Oh, they’re for Sarah,” I told her. “She needed some things for her dorm room this fall.”
Elaine frowned. “Pretty nice threads for a dorm room, don’t you think?”
I smiled. “Oh, you know how it goes, Elaine. Nothings too good for your kids, right?”
She nodded but looked unconvinced, and I hurried back into the house and closed the door, my heart pounding in my ears as I leaned against it. I don’t know why I felt like a thief, but I did. What was I taking really? Only the kinds of things Geoffrey would gladly toss out if given the opportunity. And, after all, I reminded myself, it was only yesterday that he’d tossed out his own son. I was only making it easier for him.
It wasn’t long before the Range Rover was packed full and I was driving back across town, feeling like both a thief and a fugitive. But before I headed to the apartment, I decided to swing by the lumber yard to see if Jacob’s Subaru was there. Unfortunately, it was not. I knew this meant that my son was jobless again. How was he supposed to survive on the streets without a job or money? What exactly was Geoffrey trying to accomplish with his little plan? Did he want Jacob to sell himself for money? To become a drug dealer? To wind up in prison or to die in a gutter somewhere?
“No,” I told myself as I pulled into my parking spot, number thirty-six,“you are not a thief or a fugitive. You are simply a mother who loves her son and wants to make a place for him to come home to. It might not be much, but it’s better than the streets or jail.”
By noon I had hauled all my salvaged items into the apartment, which was beginning to look quite crowded despite the lack of actual furnishings. But that was mostly due to the fact that I had dumped everything onto the floor in what I must admit was a rather dysfunctional manner. But then I wondered why I should even care. Why should I expect anything about my life to be functional anymore?
I stood and stared at the colorful heaps piled around my ankles. Itlooked as if my other house had regurgitated all the items that my husband had never wanted, and somehow they had landed here in this shabby little place, along with me. But then I suspected my husband would be glad to be rid of me as well.
My plan was to take a quick shower and return to the house to pick up a few larger items that I hadn’t been able fit into my first load. One was an old oak rocker that had belonged to my grandmother. Another was a small dresser I’d had as a child. And then there was the small pine table that had been from my father’s side of the family.
I desperately hoped I wouldn’t find Geoffrey at home. That would be out of character for him at this time of
Geoffrey didn’t love me anymore
. Crazy as it seemed, I felt certain that was the truth. And I felt just as certain that it was time to go. The chenille blanket was still wrapped around my shoulders, and I realized that it really belonged to me and that I was going to take it with me. But why stop at the blanket? There were several items that Geoffrey would never want or need or even miss. Things I had picked out to comfort me and make this house more to my tastes, cozier.
And so I found a few boxes and laundry baskets, and I began to gather candles, pillows, linens, dishes—special things I had selected and Geoffrey had tolerated—and to take those things out to the Range Rover.
“Looks like you’re moving,” called my neighbor Elaine as she watered a pot of petunias in front of her house.
“Just clearing out a few things,” I called back to her. I wasn’t eager to have all of Stafford in on our personal business just yet. And everyone knew that Elaine Hodges was something of a gossip.
“You getting rid of those?” she called, coming closer, the hose hanging limply in her hand as she peered at the stack of jewel-toned pillows in my arms.
“Oh, they’re for Sarah,” I told her. “She needed some things for her dorm room this fall.”
Elaine frowned. “Pretty nice threads for a dorm room, don’t you think?”
I smiled. “Oh, you know how it goes, Elaine. Nothings too good for your kids, right?”
She nodded but looked unconvinced, and I hurried back into the house and closed the door, my heart pounding in my ears as I leaned against it. I don’t know why I felt like a thief, but I did. What was I taking really? Only the kinds of things Geoffrey would gladly toss out if given the opportunity. And, after all, I reminded myself, it was only yesterday that he’d tossed out his own son. I was only making it easier for him.
It wasn’t long before the Range Rover was packed full and I was driving back across town, feeling like both a thief and a fugitive. But before I headed to the apartment, I decided to swing by the lumber yard to see if Jacob’s Subaru was there. Unfortunately, it was not. I knew this meant that my son was jobless again. How was he supposed to survive on the streets without a job or money? What exactly was Geoffrey trying to accomplish with his little plan? Did he want Jacob to sell himself for money? To become a drug dealer? To wind up in prison or to die in a gutter somewhere?
“No,” I told myself as I pulled into my parking spot, number thirty-six,“you are not a thief or a fugitive. You are simply a mother who loves her son and wants to make a place for him to come home to. It might not be much, but it’s better than the streets or jail.”
By noon I had hauled all my salvaged items into the apartment, which was beginning to look quite crowded despite the lack of actual furnishings. But that was mostly due to the fact that I had dumped everything onto the floor in what I must admit was a rather dysfunctional manner. But then I wondered why I should even care. Why should I expect anything about my life to be functional anymore?
I stood and stared at the colorful heaps piled around my ankles. Itlooked as if my other house had regurgitated all the items that my husband had never wanted, and somehow they had landed here in this shabby little place, along with me. But then I suspected my husband would be glad to be rid of me as well.
My plan was to take a quick shower and return to the house to pick up a few larger items that I hadn’t been able fit into my first load. One was an old oak rocker that had belonged to my grandmother. Another was a small dresser I’d had as a child. And then there was the small pine table that had been from my father’s side of the family.
I desperately hoped I wouldn’t find Geoffrey at home. That would be out of character for him at this time of
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