door opened, and I winced. For a moment I had forgotten about Miriam. I looked up and saw her standing in the hall doorway.
“Who is this?” Miriam asked, walking in front of the young woman. “Who are you?”
“I’m Erin.”
“I see you have a suitcase, Erin. Are you going to the airport?” Erin shook her head. Miriam eyeballed her. “Are you a military wife?” Erin shook her head again. “Where is the father of that child you’re carrying?”
I stood up in an effort to save the poor girl. “I’ve asked Erin to stay here for the night,” I said.
Miriam turned on me. “Here? Are you running a boardinghouse, Gloria? I’m cramped as it is in these small quarters.”
The hairs on my neck stood on end, and I positioned myself between Miriam and Erin, whispering in that too-loud-to-be-considered-whispering voice, “This is my home, Miriam, and I’ll ask whomever I want, whenever I want, to stay in it.” I turned to Erin. “This is my neighbor Miriam, who’s staying with me for a few days.” Erin attempted to smile but Miriam was ignoring her anyway. “Why don’t you sit down, Miriam, and let’s enjoy a visit with Erin.”
Miriam crossed her arms and sulked, reading a plaque I kept on the wall next to the fireplace.
May those who love us, love us.
And those that don’t love us
May God turn their hearts:
And if He does not turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles
So we’ll know them by their limping.
Miriam shook her head and moved farther away from me.
I smiled at Erin and sat down. “Just to put your mind at ease—I’m not a psychopath. Are you?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Good. The jury’s still out about Miriam but maybe we’ll all manage to sleep through the night.” I attempted to tilt the recliner back, and Whiskers bolted from underneath it up the stairs. Miriam growled at the sight of him. “That was Whiskers. My roommate. He’s afraid of his own shadow and my grandson’s brown toy horse, Pink. Whiskers is terrified of Pink. I have no idea why. I’ve tried to get Whiskers counseling, but this is clearly something he needs to work through on his own.” She smiled and I leaned back in the recliner, resting my hands on my stomach. “I’ve blabbed on long enough. You’re probably still freezing. Would you like something warm to drink?” Erin nodded. “Miriam, can I get you something to drink?”
“No,” Miriam said, an icy chill filling the living room as she sighed.
I got up and walked to the kitchen. “When are you due?”
“Four more weeks,” Erin said.
I popped a mug full of water into the microwave and pulled out a package of cocoa mix from a drawer, shaking it. “Is this your first baby?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married?” Miriam asked. Erin shook her head. “Where is the father?”
“I’m not sure,” Erin said.
Miriam made a long, grinding noise at the back of her throat and stepped closer to the sofa. “I see.”
“Will you be keeping the baby?” I said, leaning into the doorway.
“I want to, but…I don’t know.”
I walked back into the kitchen and Erin spoke louder. “My boyfriend bolted after he found out I was pregnant,” she said. “He just up and left town.”
“Well, he’s not exactly top-drawer, is he?” Miriam said, sitting. “Men are horrible creatures. They’re all the same, I’m afraid.”
“That’s not true,” I said, calling out from the kitchen.
“Well, yes, I agree,” Miriam said. “My first husband was horrible. An actor. A horrible actor, I might add. His mother was worse, a horrendous person with the face of a hawk. But my second husband was pure gold. An English professor. We met when he brought two of his classes to see a play I was in. We had a lovely marriage, but then he took it upon himself to die and leave me a widow at forty-seven.”
“When did he pass away?” Erin asked.
“Four years ago.”
I coughed and choked in the kitchen, leaning onto the counter for support.
“Who is this?” Miriam asked, walking in front of the young woman. “Who are you?”
“I’m Erin.”
“I see you have a suitcase, Erin. Are you going to the airport?” Erin shook her head. Miriam eyeballed her. “Are you a military wife?” Erin shook her head again. “Where is the father of that child you’re carrying?”
I stood up in an effort to save the poor girl. “I’ve asked Erin to stay here for the night,” I said.
Miriam turned on me. “Here? Are you running a boardinghouse, Gloria? I’m cramped as it is in these small quarters.”
The hairs on my neck stood on end, and I positioned myself between Miriam and Erin, whispering in that too-loud-to-be-considered-whispering voice, “This is my home, Miriam, and I’ll ask whomever I want, whenever I want, to stay in it.” I turned to Erin. “This is my neighbor Miriam, who’s staying with me for a few days.” Erin attempted to smile but Miriam was ignoring her anyway. “Why don’t you sit down, Miriam, and let’s enjoy a visit with Erin.”
Miriam crossed her arms and sulked, reading a plaque I kept on the wall next to the fireplace.
May those who love us, love us.
And those that don’t love us
May God turn their hearts:
And if He does not turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles
So we’ll know them by their limping.
Miriam shook her head and moved farther away from me.
I smiled at Erin and sat down. “Just to put your mind at ease—I’m not a psychopath. Are you?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Good. The jury’s still out about Miriam but maybe we’ll all manage to sleep through the night.” I attempted to tilt the recliner back, and Whiskers bolted from underneath it up the stairs. Miriam growled at the sight of him. “That was Whiskers. My roommate. He’s afraid of his own shadow and my grandson’s brown toy horse, Pink. Whiskers is terrified of Pink. I have no idea why. I’ve tried to get Whiskers counseling, but this is clearly something he needs to work through on his own.” She smiled and I leaned back in the recliner, resting my hands on my stomach. “I’ve blabbed on long enough. You’re probably still freezing. Would you like something warm to drink?” Erin nodded. “Miriam, can I get you something to drink?”
“No,” Miriam said, an icy chill filling the living room as she sighed.
I got up and walked to the kitchen. “When are you due?”
“Four more weeks,” Erin said.
I popped a mug full of water into the microwave and pulled out a package of cocoa mix from a drawer, shaking it. “Is this your first baby?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married?” Miriam asked. Erin shook her head. “Where is the father?”
“I’m not sure,” Erin said.
Miriam made a long, grinding noise at the back of her throat and stepped closer to the sofa. “I see.”
“Will you be keeping the baby?” I said, leaning into the doorway.
“I want to, but…I don’t know.”
I walked back into the kitchen and Erin spoke louder. “My boyfriend bolted after he found out I was pregnant,” she said. “He just up and left town.”
“Well, he’s not exactly top-drawer, is he?” Miriam said, sitting. “Men are horrible creatures. They’re all the same, I’m afraid.”
“That’s not true,” I said, calling out from the kitchen.
“Well, yes, I agree,” Miriam said. “My first husband was horrible. An actor. A horrible actor, I might add. His mother was worse, a horrendous person with the face of a hawk. But my second husband was pure gold. An English professor. We met when he brought two of his classes to see a play I was in. We had a lovely marriage, but then he took it upon himself to die and leave me a widow at forty-seven.”
“When did he pass away?” Erin asked.
“Four years ago.”
I coughed and choked in the kitchen, leaning onto the counter for support.
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