PART 15 – Earline Came Back With an Apology That Sounded Almost Like Gratitude Until She Mentioned What She Needed Next

Earline called me on a Wednesday afternoon.

I was at home preparing dinner.

The phone rang twice before I answered.

"Hello?"

"Angela, it's me."

I knew her voice.

"Yes?"

She sounded different.

Less angry.

More careful.

"I've been thinking about things."

I put down the knife.

"What things?"

"Everything that's happened."

I waited.

She said she knew the last few weeks had been unpleasant.

She said she hadn't meant to upset me at the courthouse.

I looked at the counter.

Her words were softer than usual.

But something about the conversation felt familiar.

"I appreciate you saying that," I told her.

She took a breath.

"I know you've helped us a lot."

I didn't interrupt.

"Faron has been having a difficult time."

There it was.

I closed my eyes.

She continued.

"He hasn't been himself."

I looked at the clock.

I had potatoes boiling on the stove.

"I hope he works things out."

Earline went quiet.

Then she asked whether I would consider helping her with one last expense.

I almost laughed.

One last expense.

I had heard versions of that sentence for eleven years.

She explained that she needed money for a salon appointment and a few other things.

I listened until she finished.

Then I answered.

"No."

She sounded disappointed.

"Angela, I just apologized."

"I heard you."

"Then why can't you help?"

I put my hand against the kitchen counter.

"Because an apology doesn't reopen the accounts."

She sighed.

"You make everything sound so cold."

I thought about the years when I had paid her bills without complaint.

I thought about how she had laughed on the courthouse steps.

I thought about the card being returned at the sports show.

"I don't hate you, Earline."

She was silent.

"But I can't keep supporting you."

She asked whether I was really going to let things end this way.

I looked at the recipe box sitting on the shelf.

"That's not my decision alone."

She didn't respond.

Then she said goodbye.

I ended the call.

For a while, I stood in the kitchen.

I felt sad.

Not because I wanted to pay her.

Because I had once considered her family.

I had invited her to holidays.

I had listened to her stories.

I had bought her birthday presents.

I had helped when she needed something.

And now the only thing she seemed to miss was the card.

I finished dinner.

Afterward, I washed the dishes and put the leftovers away.

The next morning, I told Peg about the call.

She listened.

Then she said something I hadn't considered.

"Ange, you can forgive somebody without giving them access to your bank account."

I smiled.

"I suppose so."

"You don't have to hate them to say no."

I thought about that for the rest of the day.

I had spent years believing that refusing somebody meant I didn't care.

Now I understood that caring didn't mean agreeing to every request.

That evening, I opened the kitchen drawer.

The scissors were still there.

I moved them to the utensil holder.

The drawer was becoming crowded with old papers.

I organized the statements and put the recipe box back on its shelf.

Then I sat down with a cup of tea.

My phone remained quiet.

For once, I didn't wish it would ring.

Click here to continue reading: PART 16: When Faron Finally Asked Me What I Wanted From Him, I Realized He Still Didn’t Understand What He Had Taken