Wishing for Someday Soon (21 page)

Old Man Wither held up a hand. “Now you just sit here for a moment. I’m going to go warm up my pickup truck and I'll drive you two home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I tried to protest.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your mother should be tarred and feathered for letting you two come out on a night like this.”

Kevin joined me on the couch and laid his head in my lap as Mr. Wither headed out the front door to warm up his truck.

I brushed Kevin’s hair back off his forehead, grimacing at how pale and clammy his complexion was.

“What’s tar and feather mean?” he asked weakly, keeping his eyes shut.

“It’s just a phrase from a long time ago,” I said, skirting around its real origin.

Mr. Wither joined us, shaking snow from his head.

“Is it snowing?” I asked.

“Nah, the wind is just blowin’ the snowdrifts around something fierce,” he said, reaching out a hand to help Kevin up.

Old Man Wither dropped us off at our trailer steps after making me promise to call him the next time we needed the bathroom in the middle of the night, so he could pick us up. I agreed, though I knew I would never take him up on it. He had already gone above and beyond for us.

Chapter 12

Lucinda fell into a complete funk the days leading up to Christmas. She locked herself in her room, only emerging every once in a great while to shuffle across the street to use the bathroom. I left food outside her door and several hours later the used utensils would appear outside her door again. This was new territory for us since we were used to her dumping someone when she was ready to move on. We were stuck in limbo since Lucinda was obviously not ready to trade Jim in for a newer model, but she also wasn’t capable of functioning on her own. She left the house only once to visit Jim and didn’t return until late that night, and as Christmas approached, her mood only worsened as she cut off Kevin and me completely.

Kevin and I took advantage of her reclusiveness, spending hours reading, playing games and watching the TV that I had moved back to the living room. Kevin recovered quickly from his stomach bug and soon began to out-eat me as he was finally able to enjoy his meals without the normal stresses. Our food supply had shrunk to nothing by the time the storm began to dissipate outside.

The day before Christmas Eve, I knew it was time to hit up Lucinda for her food stamp card so I could replenish our pantry and get something special to make for Christmas day.

I knocked on her door tentatively, not sure what to expect.

“What?” she demanded through the door.

“I need to ask you something,” I said, sliding the door open.

“What?” she said, not bothering to look up from her computer where she was furiously typing.

“I need your food stamp card,” I said, aggravated with her tone.

“There’s no money on it,” she said, still not looking at me.

“What?” I asked incredulously. “They put more money on it on the tenth,” I said, knowing for a fact there should still be well over three hundred dollars on it.

“I traded in the balance for cash so I could buy cigarettes for Jim and me,” she said, taking a long draw on her cigarette to emphasize the point.

“What do you mean you traded for cash?”

“I mean, I found some guy Jim recommended in Bozeman that would give me cash for the credit on my card, Miss I-Need-To-Know-Everything.”

“And there’s nothing left?” I asked, letting her derogatory comment slide. I did the quick math in my head and my mouth dried up when I realized we wouldn’t get it replenished again for seventeen days. “What about the cash? Did he give you the whole three hundred?” I asked as hope flared up inside me.

She laughed at my question like I was a foolish child. “He pays twenty-five cents on the dollar.”

“You traded three hundred dollars we had for food for seventy-five bucks, so you could buy cigarettes?” I asked, feeling the urge to puke.

She nodded and resumed typing on the computer as if I wasn’t there.

I left the room before I said anything that would turn into a battle and upset Kevin.

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her!
The words ran through my head as I sunk onto my bed, searching for a solution. I couldn’t take the car and drive to a food bank since Lucinda had never bothered to take me in to get my license. I could ask Old Man Wither to take me, but I hated to impose on him more than we already had. I left my room so I could survey the cupboards more thoroughly to see if I had missed anything.

My disappointment and panic rose as I saw that the contents of the cabinets were as dire as I originally thought. Only the one box of mac and cheese that I planned on us eating for lunch remained. I had used the last of the bread and peanut butter for our breakfast that morning and mentally kicked myself for fixing Lucinda any.

“Katelyn, are we going to the store?” Kevin asked, bundled up in his outside garb.

“Um, not right now bud,” I said, sinking down on the kitchen chair.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to smile.

“She spent the money,” he said, wise beyond his years. “What can we do?”

“I’m going to see if Lucinda will drive me to the food bank,” I said, trying to reassure him.

“Mom said the car has no gas.”

“That’s right. Damn it. I frikin’ forgot that!” I said as my frustration at Lucinda escalated.

“It’s okay, Katelyn, how many times before did we not have any food? Lots.” Kevin said, patting my arm.

His comfort was my undoing, and I laid my head back, wishing I could cry. Kevin continued to pat my back like an adult would. I felt wretched letting him see me so down, but I was so sick of nothing ever working out.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, pulling me up from the chair.

“To where?” I asked, completely confused.

“We’re going to Old Man Wither’s. He said if we ever needed anything to come see him,” Kevin said logically.

“Okay,” I said, not daring to question his logic. I could tell he was trying to be the stronger one.

Mr. Wither wasn’t in the gas station so Kevin and I tromped through the snowdrifts to get to his front door.

“Bathroom?” Mr. Wither said as a greeting when he opened the door.

“No, we need your help,” Kevin said, puffing out his chest and standing tall.

Mr. Wither smiled at him and glanced at me. His smile disappeared as he took in my gloomy expression. “Are you hurt?” he asked, herding us into his house.

“No, but we want to know if you can give us a ride to the food bank,” Kevin said, still speaking for me. “We'll help work around the store to help pay for the gas. Right, Katelyn?” he said, looking at me.

“Absolutely,” I agreed, smiling slightly at his bravado.

“Well, I’m sure I can think of a few odd jobs you could do around here,” Old Man Wither said with a twinkle in his eye. “But I reckon a round trip to Bozeman in my old beat-up truck would run us close to fifty dollars in gas. I’m thinking it'd be much easier if I give you cash and you and your sister can get a few things you need from the store here,” he said to Kevin, not leaving room for me to protest.

“I reckon that makes sense,” Kevin said, picking up Wither’s phrase.

I couldn’t help but giggle as Old Man Wither roared with laughter. “Sounds like a done deal to me,” he finally said when he stopped laughing.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He counted out five twenties and handed them to Kevin, not looking at me. I wanted to protest, but knew that it would fall on deaf ears. Besides, could I really deny Kevin the nourishment his underweight body so dearly needed?

“I’ll pay it back,” I promised.

“I know you will, my dear,” he said, patting my shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift over to the store. I need to have a meeting with Maxwell anyway.”

“Woohoo,” Kevin said, jumping up and down with excitement like the walk across the street was just too far for him.

Old Man Wither left Kevin and me at the front door so we could start our shopping while he headed toward the management offices at the far front corner of the store.

Kevin and I made quick work of our shopping, buying only the essentials to get us through the next few weeks. We got our usual staple items like generic peanut butter, Top Ramen soup, mac and cheese, and several frozen dollar pizzas. I resented that I had to add girlie products to the cart, but there was no arguing with stinking Mother Nature. The only impulse item I allowed us to get was a rotisserie chicken for Christmas Day. I planned on serving it with peas, rolls and mashed potatoes, but chafed at the idea of spending ten dollars for one meal, especially since Kevin and I would be out of school for two weeks and would be eating breakfast and lunch at home. Kevin was a sport during the shopping trip and found it a game to find the cheapest priced items he could.

“How about these for dinner one night?” he asked, holding up a can of Vienna sausages.

“Gag, no thanks,” I said, making a gagging noise to emphasis my point.

He giggled at my response. “Okay, how about these?” he asked, holding up a can of sardines.

“Are you nuts?” I said as we both burst out laughing at the same time.

“Well, you said we needed to eat cheap. You get like six little fishes in this one can,” he added, smiling at me impishly.

“I’d rather eat dirt,” I said, ruffling his hair as we headed for the next aisle.

“Yum, can we have spaghetti?” he pleaded, holding up a big jar of his favorite sauce.

“Sure, but without any meat,” I said, feeling bad when his face drooped momentarily in disappointment.

“Okay,” he said, rebounding quickly.

I grabbed several boxes of different pasta noodles off the shelf since they were buy one, get one free and added the biggest jar of sauce they had, figuring it would get us through several meals.

“Well, that should do us,” I said, pushing the full buggy to the front of the store.

“Can I get a candy bar?” Kevin asked, eyeing the multiple rows of chocolate near the register.

“We'll see,” I said out of the corner of my mouth as Max stepped up to the end of the conveyor belt to bag our stuff. I was mortified as he diplomatically bagged up my personal hygiene items.

“How’s it going, Kevin?”

“Hey, Max,” Kevin said happily, abandoning his stakeout by the candy to give Max an uncharacteristic hug around the waist.

I watched Kevin come alive as he and Max bagged up the groceries together, easily falling into their favorite conversation about superheroes. I tried not to be obvious as my eyes drank in Max’s appearance. It had only been a few days since I had seen him, but my heart kicked into overdrive as he threw his head back to laugh at something Kevin said.

“Cash or charge, sweetie?” Susan, the nicest of the cashiers asked, interrupting my gawking session.

“Cash,” I said, pulling my eyes reluctantly from Max. “Oh, Kevin, you can pick a candy bar,” I said, noticing we had just over four dollars left over.

“Sweet,” Kevin said, grabbing his favorite brand.

“Do you need a lift home?” Max asked.

“No, Old Man Wither said he’d take us home,” I said, pointing toward Mr. Wither as he exited Max's dad’s office.

“Oh, okay,” Max said, sounding disappointed. “Have a good Christmas then,” he said, ruffling Kevin’s hair.

“Thanks, you too,” Kevin said as I choked back a sudden lump in my throat. I yearned for things to be different. I missed his touch more acutely than I had ever missed anything in all the years that I had left cherished items behind.

“Katelyn,” Max said, reaching out to grab my hand. His touch was as warm and soft as I remembered it.

“Yeah?” I asked, making the mistake of looking up into his eyes.

“Have a great Christmas,” he said as the pad of his thumb gently rubbed the top of my hand.

“You too Max,” I said with sudden weak knees as he continued to hold my hand.