PART 5 – Saturday Morning Arrived, and I Put on My Best Cardigan Before Making a Decision My Son Never Expected

I woke up before the alarm.

For a few seconds, I forgot what day it was.

Then I remembered.

Saturday.

The day Hugh and Marlee were coming with their trailer.

I lay still and listened to the house.

The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen.

A pipe made a small knocking sound behind the bathroom wall.

Those were familiar noises.

I had lived with them for twenty-two years.

Soon, I wouldn't hear them anymore.

I got out of bed and put on my slippers.

My knees were stiff, so I took my time getting dressed.

I chose my good cardigan.

It was a soft one, a little cream-colored, with small buttons down the front.

My husband had bought it for me years earlier.

I had worn it to church, family dinners, and several hospital retirement gatherings.

I wanted to look presentable.

I wasn't sure why that mattered so much.

Perhaps I wanted Hugh to see that I hadn't fallen apart.

Perhaps I wanted Marlee to understand that I wasn't somebody who needed to be managed.

Or perhaps I simply wanted to feel like myself.

I went into the kitchen.

The boxes were stacked near the dining table.

My dishes were wrapped.

My husband's Army photograph was packed safely.

The quilt was folded and waiting.

I checked the drawer one last time.

Nothing important had been left behind.

Then I made coffee.

The pink notebook was in my apron pocket.

I had carried it there since Thursday.

I took it out and placed it beside my cup.

For a moment, I considered putting it away.

I didn't want the morning to turn into a fight.

But I also didn't want to pretend it had never existed.

I opened it.

The pages were still in the same order.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

I closed it again.

Some things didn't need to be read twice to become painful.

At eight fifteen, I carried my purse to the front room.

I checked that the new apartment keys were inside.

The little hammer-shaped ring was there.

I held it for a moment.

Then I put it back.

Mr. Crenshaw had arranged everything.

His flatbed was already scheduled to collect my furniture.

He had offered to do the heavy lifting.

I was grateful.

More grateful than I could explain.

At eight thirty, I looked outside.

The street was quiet.

A neighbor was watering her plants.

Somebody down the block was washing a car.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning.

That was what surprised me.

My whole life seemed to be changing, but the world hadn't noticed.

I poured another cup of coffee.

Then I sat on the porch.

The wooden chair creaked beneath me.

I placed the pink notebook on my lap.

I didn't know exactly what I would say when Hugh arrived.

I only knew I couldn't agree to the arrangement.

Not the rent.

Not the childcare.

Not the rules.

I could love my son and still refuse his offer.

That was something I was only beginning to understand.

A little before nine, I heard a truck approaching.

I looked toward the end of the street.

It was Mr. Crenshaw's flatbed.

He had already loaded my furniture.

I could see the outline of my old dresser beneath the straps.

He parked around the corner instead of directly in front of my house.

Then he stayed in the driver's seat.

He had told me he would wait until I was ready.

I appreciated that.

I didn't need an audience.

I needed a little time.

I raised my coffee cup toward him.

He gave me a small wave.

Then he returned to his crossword.

I smiled.

At least somebody understood that I wanted to make this morning my own.

I checked the clock.

Eight fifty-eight.

I heard the engine before I saw the truck.

Hugh was coming.

Click here to continue reading: PART 6: They Arrived With a Trailer and Printed Instructions, Certain I Was Already Moving Into Their Garage