Thelma blew at the hair that had fallen into her face. “Thelma Van der Graaf, thank you!”
“You fucking know whatVan der Graafmeans in Dutch?” There he was, still cursing. “I looked it up in junior high! It meansfrom the grave!Which is exactly where you came from!”
Before his mother could defend herself at all, he kept going.
“I’m not convinced I ain’t dead! This is purgatory! We’re all stuck in it together, living out our last years of existence before God judges us! You died that night, and here you are, haunting me!”
“Robbie!”
“What?Tired of my ‘cussing?’”
She slung one leg over the other as carefully as she ever did in the ‘50s—after all, not even her son should see more than her calves as she readjusted her posture. “Our name canalsomeanfrom the count!Don’t be so morbid!”
“She just can’t stop correcting me…” Robbie grabbed a jacket off the coat rack by the front door. “Forty fucking years, and she’s still correcting my grammar and my facts…”
All Thelma could do was shake her head after he slammed the door shut.All the manners of a bull in a china shop…Thelma didn’t like to blame her husband’s second wife for anything, but Mary dropped the ball in mitigating Robbie’s anger issues!
As for Bill…Like father, like son.Except Bill had been a happy, silly drunk. As much as it annoyed her to help him undress for bed on Friday nights, his antics were so amusing that Robbie probably heard more laughing than “nagging.”
“I don’t nag,” she said to herself. “Do I?”
She supposed she would never truly know.
Chapter sixteen
Sin-plicity
Thelma was in the front garden, tending to the bushes and flowers, when Gretchen approached her for the first time in weeks.
“Hey.”
Her shadow announced her before her voice did—and Thelma would recognize either anywhere.I think about them enough.Particularly that voice. And that presence. Both drove her crazy to linger on.
“Hello.”
She attempted to sound cheery, but it was easier said than done when she was still incredibly embarrassed to remember how she kissed-and-ran back in June. It was October now. What was the statute of limitations on such mortification, anyway?
“Saw you out here.” Gretchen, who needed a haircut, kept her hands in her denim pockets as she stood a few feet away. Thelma put down her spade and placed her own hands onherown denim. She had to admit, jeans were perfect for working outside.The boys really had it figured out back then.“Thought I’d see how you were doing. Been a busy summer. Guess it’s fall now.”
Thelma shielded her eyes against the sun that began its descent behind Gretchen’s head. “Yes. Halloween soon. I’m looking forward to it.” She wouldn’t recognize most of the kids’ costumes, but she always loved it when groups of children had fun. “In another life, I’m a schoolteacher, you know.”
“I could see it. Bet you’re good with kids.”
“Oh, yes, kids I’m good with.” Thelma hoisted herself up without touching her hands to the driveway. “It’s when they grow up that I begin to struggle.”
She didn’t get an immediate reaction out of Gretchen, who continued to breathlessly look at her as if there was plenty tosay,but no concrete way tosay it.“So, um…” Well, that was one attempt. “You have a good summer? Saw you stepped out for a while a few times.”
Thelma laughed louder than she intended. “You keeping an eye on me, Ms. Stewart?”
“No, I just mean it was… I noticed when you weren’t around for a few days at a time.”
“I’ll take that as you being sweet.”
“That’s gracious of you, for sure.”
Thelma angled herself so the sun no longer shone directly into her eyes.She must have just gotten home from work.Gretchen was also in a heavy Carhartt jacket zipped up to her chest. Signs of reapplied sunscreen dotted her cheeks, yet there was a tan at her hairline. Her hands were beautifully calloused—and Thelma couldn’t help but think about how they might feel against her skin.Come on, Thel, keep it together. You had your chance.
“I did some traveling this summer. Went with a group up to Tahoe.” She referred to the chronoauts who always went somewhere twice a year, winter and summer.Shasta for winter, and Tahoe for summer.Everyone in the group encouraged herto join them in Tahoe for a week’s worth of “disconnecting” on the lake. “Making S’mores and telling stories around the fire. You know. Practically Wolf Cubs.”
