​​Chapter Forty
Rochelle

Jerry is a curious creature. He doesn’t remind me of a typical man, and that’s truly not a knock on him. I suppose I don’t have much to compare him to other than my father, Glenn, Dennis, Mack. The last one who had my heart but still blew away like the wind. Jerry seems more substantial. His weight keeps him anchored, and he seems like one of those people who are thoroughly themselves and have no qualms about it.

“Righty-o. Let’s take a looksie-loo at that little heat pump of yours.”

See.

I direct him out the back through the sliding glass windows. The yard is small and mushy, and he presses his weight into each step. Talk to him. I hear it in my breastbone. This man who has a thick head of hair like a helmet and a nature as intimidating as a titmouse.

Talk to him. Okay, I say, and go to make another carafe of coffee.

I’ve put the heat up a degree, and when he comes in, he politely wipes his boots on the rug. He reminds me of a snowman melting off a layer.

“Come, sit,” I say in a way that’s authoritative. It feels like there’s a stranger in my chest.

“Oh, no I couldn’t. I have more houses.”

“Please. Just for a moment.” I know he’s sandwiched between his sense of duty and his sense of keeping the peace. We’re not too different, Jerry and I. I pour him a coffee–black–and add a splash to my already lukewarm cup.

“I’m new,” I say. I want to giggle as I watch his face process what I’ve just said. “To White Smoke.”

“Oh, is that right? Where’d you come from?”

“Texarkana.”

“Oh wow! That’s brave.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I mean traveling all that way. I’ve never been anywhere but White Smoke.” He says it sincerely followed by a tentative sip from his cup. I believe him. Thoroughly.

“It was brave, I guess. Couldn’t have gotten here without God,” I say. I wait for it, the eye roll. But he nods his head so fast, his slicked back hair flashes light at me.

“Oh, no, I understand that. Take the woman I’m living with. I prayed for her.” He talks to his coffee cup. His voice is soft and gentle like he’s talking to a kitten.

“Is she everything you prayed for?” He reminds me of me. I remember laying face planted to the ceiling, praying that someone like Glenn would come along and take the misery away. The misery of being a single mother. The misery of living with my brother. I thought someone like Glenn could solve everything.

And now, everything’s even more of a puzzle than it was back then.

He looks at his kitten cup for a moment, strokes the side with his thick hand. “No.” One word. A hard drop in the bucket.

“It’s at least admirable you’re honest about that. I haven’t been honest in thirty years.” I smile, but I see his face. He’s crying.

He wipes his eyes with his fingers. “She’s pregnant. She’s going to leave me.”

“She doesn’t want to raise your child with you?”

“It’s not mine. I...we don’t do that. I have my reasons,” he says, a rehearsed line, I’m sure.

“No, I get that. People care too much about...that. Keeps them distracted about what’s really happening around them.” And boy, do I know that one from experience.

“Oh, Natalie. She’s my queen.” I perk up at the name. But no, could it? Natalie is, well, a beauty. And not to knock on poor Jerry. He seems like a quality guy but certainly not the type to handle someone like that.

“You know, I met a Natalie the other day,” I fib. “Is her last name Reynolds?” I say, turning my own cup into a kitten and holding onto it with my eyes.

“Yeah, you know her?”

“Yes,” I say in a short breath. “Where do you guys live? I was actually thinking of getting in touch with her again. She seemed really sweet.”

“Over at the Legends Apartments. You know, that might do her some good. Get some advice from someone like you. Someone who has her head on her shoulders.”

I nearly drop my cup but firm my hold on it. “Well, I suppose age wisens a person. Well, God, really.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Natalie doesn’t believe in God. She says I’m wasting my energy.” His voice goes soft again, and I feel the urge to wrap him in a hug.

“Some people don’t. Until they do.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” He stares off at something behind my head. “She doesn’t know I know. She’s been getting nauseous, pale. I looked through her purse. I know I shouldn’t have but she had some trouble with...well, alcohol, a long time ago, and I was afraid she fell off the wagon again. But instead of finding booze, I found a pregnancy test.”

“Wow,” leaves my mouth in a tiny puff of breath.

Jerry comes to life again when he glances down at the cup in his hands. “Thanks for the coffee. I really do need to get going.” I scramble up with him, not wanting this moment to be quite over.

“Sure, sure. Um, what number again at The Legends? I’ll see if I can make it there this weekend.” After I stalk around in my car tonight.

“Thirteen. Lucky number,” he rolls his sharp green eyes and snorts. “Seriously, that would be great if you’d talk with her. I know she did a horrible thing. But I love her. I forgive her. I need her to know that. I think it would be really great if you spent some time with her.”

I still my heart with the imaginary pair of hands in my chest. “Me, too.”