Heart and Home (33 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

I spent my last two weeks in
the city packing my apartment into boxes, thinking that each thing I wrapped in
tissue paper was another solemn reminder of the independence I gained, and the
war I once waged on the small town I was heading back to.

It wasn’t that I felt any
sorrow in leaving the city behind, but there was something to be said for the
experience. It changed me, and though I was returning to the place I once
fought tooth and nail to get away from, it wasn’t with my tail between my legs.
In fact, I planned to hold my head high and show that town just what it had
been missing. I kept thinking about what Troy said, about the town being in our
blood and that I could bring positive growth back to the community I always
considered strange and backwards.

Troy was beyond overjoyed at
the prospect of my homecoming. In fact, despite going two full weeks without
even seeing each other, our phone conversation during the final countdown was
more cheerful than ever. I didn’t even have to ask Troy to come to the city to
help me move. He volunteered himself and his cousin Ernie, and the two of them
borrowed their Uncle Chet’s moving van. They showed up mid-morning the Saturday
before Christmas, and while they transferred my boxed life into the back of the
van, I squared away with my landlord.
 

As I left Pittsburgh behind
me, there was hardly an accurate snapshot of the city I’d grown accustomed to
in the rearview mirror. It was like the buildings themselves hid behind tunnels
and strips of highway to keep me from growing too emotional over our
separation.

I held my fingers out the
window and said, “I’ll be back someday,” though in my heart I couldn’t even
imagine when or why. I was surprised that I didn’t cry, but noticed that the
further and further I grew from the city, the larger the hole it left in my
heart. Up until the day my mother died, my dreams had all been city dreams, but
everything was changing.

More or less, I was
homeless, or at least without independence for the time being. I still hadn’t
made a decision about where I would stay, so for the time being all of my
possessions were going into storage at my parent’s house. I, too, would be
taking up residence there until I figured out what was best. Dad had only been
living in that big house alone for about two months, and he was ecstatic when I
asked if I might stay there until I was ready to move on.

“You can stay forever, for
all I care.” I heard happiness in his tone, though I couldn’t tell if it was
due to my homecoming, or the fact that he wouldn’t be alone in that house
anymore with my mother’s ghost.

“I’m sure it won’t be
forever,” I said.

Troy was still working hard
to convince me to move into the farm house with him. He had tons of renovation
plans he wanted to share with me, and the seriousness of his proposal only been
increased by his willingness to visit assisted living communities with Lottie.
She called me herself to thank me for nudging him into considering an idea
she’d put into his head two years earlier.

It was the first time in a
long time he considered she might actually be happier in the company of people
her own age, more confident with a medical professional on call. He even
started to reason a little freedom might help her cope with the bouts of
depression that often accompanied her multiple-sclerosis.

I arrived at my parents’
house just in time for Troy to check in from the road by phone. As I hung up,
Dad opened the front door and stepped onto the porch to greet me.

“You need help with
anything?”

“Nah,” I closed the car door
and started up the walk. “Troy and Ernie won’t be here for at least two hours.”
I leaned into a quick hug before stepping back to look him over. I noticed
during my last visit that he’d lost a little weight, but without my mom there
to cook for him, I wasn’t surprised. “Did you eat yet today?”

He shrugged backward and
started for the door, “I had a grilled cheese.”

I followed him into the
house, which smelled vaguely of pine needles and holiday potpourri. As I looked
around the living room, I was taken aback by how much trouble he went to, and
was surprised to see the excitement in his eyes as I took in the decorations.
He’d trimmed and decorated the tree, and put all of my mother’s favorite holiday
knick knacks in place. Her manger set nestled in the center of the coffee table
on a fluffy layer of cotton, and three stockings were tacked up in front of the
fireplace.

I could feel my eyes start
to water as I took it all in. I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly
wasn’t that. I’d tuned my mind out to thoughts of my mom and the incoming
holiday.

“Wow,” I marveled. “It’s
just like when I was a kid.” I gasped a little to catch my breath. “Everything
is in perfect place, Dad.”

“I wanted it to feel like
home,” he said in a quiet voice that barely reached my ears. “For both of us.”

“Dad,” Blinking and arcing
my eyes upward to control my tears, I took a step back and put my arm around
his waist in an awkward half-hug. “It’s perfect.” I drew away into the middle
of the room and spun around to take it all in. “In fact, I bet Mom would be
jealous.”

“Oh,” he chuckled and shook
his head, “I don’t know about that.”

“She always worked so hard
to make everything perfect,” I remembered.

“She sure did,” his smile
was nostalgic and just a little bit sad. “Anyway, I’m real glad you decided to
stay with me for the holidays.”

“Me too. Though I can’t
promise dinner will be as good as Mom used to make.”

“I’m sure it’ll be just
fine.”

Lottie wanted to cook and
have Dad and me out to the farm, but like Dad there was a part of me that
wouldn’t have felt right celebrating that first Christmas without my mom
anywhere other than home. It was like we both knew she would be there with us,
and I for one didn’t want to miss a single moment of that closeness with her
memory. While I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull off Christmas dinner with the
same finesse Becky had thrown into Thanksgiving, I’d invited Troy and Lottie to
our house nonetheless.

Shortly before Troy and
Ernie arrived with the van full of my belongings, Becky and Marty showed with
Chinese take-out for everyone. We paused to eat and then threw ourselves into
unloading carton after carton of my life in Pittsburgh and carting it up the
stairs to my old bedroom. The house itself felt alive with everyone there, and
though I hadn’t thought about my mother’s ghost since I’d been to see Diana, it
was as though I could feel her elated presence hovering over our every move.

In a stolen moment in my
doorway, Troy braced my elbows and drew me into a long and grateful kiss.
“Tonight will probably be the best night’s sleep I’ve had in two months.”

“Who said I was spending the
night with you?”

“Nobody, but it doesn’t
matter if you do or don’t,” he kissed me again. “Just knowing I could drive
over here in the middle of the night and throw rocks at your window is enough.”

“You better not.”

“What, throw rocks at the
window?”

I nodded and nuzzled my nose
against his, “My daddy’s a light sleeper, and he’s got a shotgun.”

“I like living on the edge,”
he pressed his body against mine. “Are you sure you don’t wanna spend the night
with me tonight?” The tenderness of his lips moved against my eager neck. “I’ll
make it worth your while.”

I tilted myself closer to
him, oblivious to the soft moan that escaped me. “Maybe after the holidays are
over,” I whispered. “My dad really needs me here right now.”

His finger traced the
contour of my cheek, drawing my lips back to his. “I understand.”

“I’d tell you two to get a
room, but from the looks of it, you already have.” Becky charged up the stairs
with a small box, and Troy and I drew to the side to allow her through. She
laid the box atop a stack in the corner and as she started back toward us I
grabbed her and drew her into our hug.

“This is nice,” I squeezed
them both between my arms. “Two of my favorite people right here with me.”

“If you make me cry today,
I’ll never forgive you,” she played tough.

“She’s been making me cry
all day,” Troy chided.

“No crying today, unless
we’re happy,” I insisted. “And while I never thought I’d say this out loud,
thanks to the two of you and my dad, I am happy to be home.”

“Aw,” Becky cringed and
bunched her shoulders up around her neck. “Did you hear that, Troy?”

“I did,” he raised his
eyebrows. “I never thought I’d say these words out loud, but Janice McCarty is
happy to be home.”

“Stop now.” I shoved him
playfully and pulled out of our embrace. “You’ll make me change my mind.”

Even as I teased him, I
couldn’t get over how light I felt. I hadn’t expected it, but I really was
happy to be home, and the hole I felt in absence of my beloved city became full
again the closer and closer I drew to Sonesville on the drive home. I couldn’t
explain it, though I knew it had everything in the world to do with Troy and Becky,
but even more than that my father and my mother. It was as if a part of me
understood there was nowhere in the world where I could feel her presence the
way I did in that house, except for in the town she devoted such a major part
of herself to.

That night after everyone
left, and Dad said goodnight, I sat in my box-piled bedroom with barely enough
room to move around. There was a pathway to the door and another to the
dresser, but beyond the bed space was limited. I curled into the quilt and
turned off the light, remembering the last time I was in that room.

The claustrophobia I felt
being tied down and trapped not just in that room, but to the town itself, felt
overwhelming then, but none of that could touch me anymore. I was home, and for
the first time in my entire life I knew for certain I belonged there.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I’d scheduled an appointment
with Amber before even leaving the city, and she was happy to meet with me two
days before Christmas to show me around. I’d been in that building at least a
hundred times the summer I’d interned with Mr. Sanders, but as I was learning
every time I drove through town, a lot could change in eight years.

Amber was standing on the
sidewalk next to her car when I pulled up, all bundled in a red tweed overcoat,
knitted white gloves and winter hat. Her dark hair tucked almost perfectly
beneath the knit, making her look as breathtaking as she always did, and for a
moment my mind lapsed back to what Troy said in church about her that day.

Just as quickly as the
curious notion rose in my mind, I tamped it down, deciding I didn’t want to
know what secrets Amber Williams was hiding any more than I wanted her to know
mine.

She smiled when she saw me,
wiggling her fingers in a little wave as I unlatched my seatbelt and got out of
the car.

“Sorry I’m a few minutes
late.” I started toward her, glancing over her shoulder at the old building I’d
come to see.

The scene reminded me
vaguely of the day the two of us came to interview for the summer internship
program. It was February, and bitter cold, but the weather was nothing compared
to her attitude when she told me that day, rather matter-of-factly, we should
stay friends no matter who got the job.

I’d resisted at the time in
reminding her we weren’t exactly the best of friends, and no matter who got the
job, it probably wouldn’t change our relationship a bit, but it did. Amber
Williams, who had always been civil to me, refused to even look at me our
senior year of high school. It was petty and stupid, but I thanked my lucky
stars she hadn’t treated me the same way she treated Becky.

Now I almost wished I’d
slapped her for all the cruel things she’d done to my friend, but the past was
the past, and we had business to attend to.

“You’re not late,” she
grinned, her breath huffing out in silver puffs in front of her face. “It’s not
going to be much warmer inside, they shut off the gas a couple months ago, but
at least we’ll be out of the wind. Come on in, and let’s have a look around.”

The electricity was still
running, thankfully, illuminating just how little changed inside the
Sonesville Standard
in the last ten
years. Four cubicles huddled just behind the reception area, each desk empty
and forlorn. It still smelled like old paper, the faint scent of ink lingering
in the air. I stepped past her, beyond the reception desk and stood in the
center of the room trying to see the potential I knew was still there.

The office in the back was
dark, but without a word I walked toward it and flipped the switch inside the
door. The bulbs above the desk buzzed to life, flickering a little as though
they hadn’t been changed in years, but it made me smile nonetheless. I
excitedly rushed into that office with completed articles more times than I
could count, my love for that business growing every time the editor, Mr.
Sanders looked up approvingly from an artic le I’d written.

“It just wasn’t the same
after Mr. Sanders retired.” I hadn’t heard Amber come up behind me, and started
a little, reaching up half-heartedly to touch my chest. “The last owners were
out-of-towners, a couple from Harrisburg who didn’t care about local happenings
enough to keep people interested. They went belly-up in a matter of months and
the building’s been on the market since late May.”

“Has there been any interest?”

“Honestly?”
 
When I turned around to look at her,
her dark eyes were wide as she shook her head. “You’re the first person I’ve
even shown it to since it went up for sale.”

“Wow.”

“They’re asking $200,000,
but you could probably talk them down to $175,000 if your first bid was really
low. I think they’re getting a little desperate.”

I nodded, chewing my bottom
lip as I considered it. It was going to take a huge chunk to get a paper up and
running, far more than the cost of the building, more than the substantial life
insurance my mother left me. According to the research I’d done, and the
business plan I’d started putting together before moving back to town, the
money I had in savings would be a stepping stone in the right direction, and my
only obstacle would be the local bank.

“There’s an apartment
upstairs?” I asked, glancing up at her again.

“Two of them, actually. Both
of them empty right now, but it’d be a decent way to pay the monthly mortgage
on the building if you could fix them up and rent them out.”

Nodding again, I asked her
to take me upstairs and show me, and we spent the next twenty minutes looking
over the rundown apartments. It would take even more money to make them livable
again, but Amber was right. It would be a promising way to supplement income
and make sure the mortgage got paid every month. I’d have to add that into my
proposal and see if Troy might be interested in helping me out.

On the way down the stairs,
I said over my shoulder. “I’m going to need a couple days to think about it,
start processing paperwork with the bank to see if I can get approval, but I’m
definitely interested.”

“Well, you think it over,
and give me a call after the holiday when you’re ready to make an offer. I’ll
have you come into my office and fill out my contract, and we can proceed from
there.”

“Sounds good. I really
appreciate you taking time out of contract to let me look around.”

When she smiled at me, there
was a moment that I actually felt guilty for all the negative thoughts I’d had
about her since I came back to town. It was probably one of the only times I’d
ever seen sincerity in her face. She only made it worse when she said, “It’d be
really great to have someone who knows what they’re doing get that paper back
up and running again. Who knows,” she shrugged, starting toward her car, “maybe
you’ll give me a job someday. I always did like to write.”

“Maybe,” I nodded, genuinely
grinning after her.

She waved one last time
before getting into her car and starting up the engine. She’d been all business,
not asking a single personal question or trying to goad me as she’d done the
last time I saw her, but then maybe she’d felt like she had something to prove
to me. Maybe that was how she’d always felt, and she’d just gone about proving
herself in all the wrong ways. I still didn’t like how she’d treated Becky at
my mom’s wake, but maybe there was something human inside her after all.

I stood on the sidewalk for
at least ten minutes after she’d pulled away from the curb, listening to the
cars drive by and staring up at that building. Even as an intern, I’d never
imagined that place would be my future, but now it seemed right, as if the
Sonesville Standard
was always where I’d
end up. I smiled to myself upon realizing that, glanced over at the marquis as
I walked to my car and saw once again someone changed the letters on the sign.

This time they read: U CAN
DO IT.

I didn’t know who the smart
aleck was changing that sign every few days, but I swore they had some kind of
insight into the inner-workings of my mind ever since that day I’d come home to
lay my mother to rest. It was probably just kids causing trouble, but I felt
strangely comforted by the confidence those words instilled in me.