In the Neighborhood of Normal

by Cindy Maddox

  “I don’t know,” Mish admitted. “Sometimes I just get a feeling and I know I’m right. This here woman is running away from heartache.”

  Mish stopped about ten yards from the woman, and Juliann stopped behind Mish. “Ma’am?” Mish said gently.

  It always surprised Juliann when Mish called younger people “ma’am” or “sir.” Southern rules insist you call your elders by the honorary titles, but Mish used them for people younger than her, like their Lyft driver, and now this woman. Juliann made the connection. They were both people of color. Mish used “sir” and “ma’am” as a way to show respect to people who might have reason to doubt how an old white lady would treat them.

  “Ma’am?” Mish repeated, and the woman looked up, surprised that she was being addressed. “I’m sorry to bother you. I wanted to check on you but I can see you’re better now.”

  The woman studied Mish for a moment, then her face relaxed a little. “Yes, thank you.”

  “You’ve decided to stop running?”

  Mish was stating the obvious, but the woman seemed to be considering it as a question. She looked over her shoulder, then back at Mish. “I’m tired of running.”

  “Being tired of something still don’t mean you’re ready to stop.”

  Juliann got the odd feeling that she was missing something in this conversation—like the two women were communicating on a level that was beyond her reach.

  “You already know what you gotta do,” Mish said softly. “You gotta follow the love.”

  The woman stared at Mish again before speaking. “It’s not that simple,” she said at last.

  “Love never is. You don’t follow love because it’s simple. You follow it because that’s all there is.” She gave the woman one last smile, then turned toward the parking lot, Juliann once again following at her heels.

  ***

  Jeff, Stephen, and Opal were seated at the kitchen table with Claudia, while Bob paced the kitchen floor. The trooper from Virginia had finally called back, and the lieutenant was outside talking to him. Bob had tried to follow, but the lieutenant made it clear that he would not be putting the conversation on speaker phone. When the door opened, they all looked up expectantly.

  “Good news,” Lieutenant Samson announced to the room. “The trooper remembers Mish very well. She was traveling east on I-68 in Maryland. He had pulled her over for slow, erratic driving. Turns out she had just gotten distracted by something her granddaughter showed her, and she was fine.”

  “What? Olivia’s with her?” Bob interjected. “She’s supposed to be in school. In Florida.”

  “If she were leaving school, she would have told us,” Claudia insisted.

  The lieutenant seemed to be measuring his words carefully. “Well, there seem to be lots of things going on in your family that you’re not aware of. I suggest you take some time to calm down, then contact your daughter. But since there is clearly no crime, this appears to be a private family matter now. I’ll write this up as a simple well-being check, though I will need to keep the things I’ve already put in evidence bags until your mother returns.” Bob opened his mouth as if to argue, but the lieutenant was faster. “I’m sorry. Department policy.” Bob’s face hardened but he nodded.

  Lieutenant Samson and Officer Duvall collected their things and left a business card in case the family needed them. Opal was quick to follow the officers out the door. Jeff stood to leave also, but Bob stopped him with a raised hand.

  “You owe me an apology. Or at least an explanation.”

  “Excuse me?” Jeff replied.

  “If you knew my mother was showing signs of dementia, why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

  Jeff was so surprised it took him a few seconds to respond. “Well, I only met you the one time, and besides, anything Mish said to me was said in confidence, and—”

  “You’re not a priest,” Bob interrupted. “There’s no seal of the confessional, or whatever it’s called, because as far as I know, there’s no confessional in the Congregational church.”

  “No, of course not,” Jeff agreed, “but I wouldn’t want to betray her trust.”

  Bob gave a snort of a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. It’s all about trust, is it?”

  Bob was clearly angry with him, but Jeff had no idea why. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  “Did you even think about calling me, her only son, to tell me about your concerns? I’m willing to bet it never even crossed your mind.”

  A ripple of guilt ran through him. “Well, no, I guess I didn’t. Like I said, we only met the one time and—”

  “And people like you don’t care much about family values, do you?” He looked from Jeff to Stephen and back again, disdain written all over his face. “I still can’t believe the church I grew up in let someone like you have the pastor’s job.”

  Jeff wasn’t usually surprised by anti-gay rhetoric, nor was he particularly bothered by it anymore. But after the drama of the last few hours, it sent him reeling. He couldn’t think of a single word to say in response.

  Apparently, Stephen did not have the same problem. “Someone like him?” he repeated as he stepped forward. “This particular someone dropped everything, on his day off, to come to your mother’s house. He walked in not knowing if he might find her passed out or dead. He searched the house, called the police, and stayed here until we knew she was safe. He has done all of this not because he has ‘the pastor’s job’ but because he has a pastor’s heart. And if he knows your mother better than you do, he’s not the one to blame!”

  Bob’s hands clenched at his sides, which was all the warning Jeff needed. He took Stephen’s hand and pulled him out the door before he could say anything else. Jeff looked back one last time to see Claudia’s hands taking flight.

  12.

  Juliann looked around at the waiting room, trying to take it all in. The room itself was plain—just simple cushioned chairs with wooden arms, grouped in small rectangles around the room. But it wasn’t the furniture that had her attention.

  Sitting across from them was a girl who looked like she was around twenty. Her boyfriend kept trying to hold her hand, but she seemed too nervous to let him do so for long. Nearby a woman was frantically trying to keep her toddler from eating the magazines. In the next group of chairs sat another girl who looked in her twenties, but she was sitting alone. Her thumbs were typing on her phone at a furious rate, interrupted only by her repeated glances at the door.

  But the people she kept staring at were at the far end. It was a girl, around her age, maybe a little older, and sitting beside her was a woman who was clearly her mom. They were both thin and kind of elegant, with the same strawberry-blonde hair. While others in the room looked nervous, this girl was incredibly sad. She kept pulling a tissue out of the pocket of her hoodie and wiping her eyes. Her mother looked like she was in pain, too, but not for herself. Even from across the room, it was clear this mother was hurting for her child.

  Just watching brought tears to Juliann’s eyes. She tried to imagine how it would feel, having her mother beside her instead of an old woman she’d only known for a week. She tried to imagine having a mother who would hurt so badly for her. She tried to imagine that arm around her, protecting her instead of the other way around. Looking back, she couldn’t even remember when it had happened—when she had become her mother’s protector. She guessed it was sometime around second grade when she realized that if she could make her dad proud of her, if she could distract him with her grade on a test, or could tell a story that made him laugh, he was less likely to yell at her mom. Then she discovered that if she broke a glass or spilled something, he would just give an exasperated sigh. But if her mother did it, he came unglued. Pretty soon she was claiming every accident as her own. Her mother confronted her on it one time, told her she didn’t need to do that. But they both knew better. Juliann was the
only one who could keep the peace. So she kept it. And she never told anyone how much it cost her.

  She looked back down at the paperwork she was supposed to be completing. Name, age, date of birth. It looked like every other form she’d ever filled out but somehow it felt different. She almost laughed when the form listed “Sex.” She wanted to write “Obviously” but wasn’t sure the abortion clinic was the place to make a joke. But then it asked for date of most recent period and she wasn’t sure. She had never been good about keeping track of the date. She knew the exact date of conception, of course, but they didn’t ask for that. She knew the time and the place and the way it had made her feel. She knew the smell of Aiden and the taste of his mouth. She knew she was making the right choice. Then again, it was her only option, so did that make it a choice? Did it count as a choice if it was the only thing she could do?

  She shook her head and returned to the form. Type of service requested. She checked the boxes for a surgical abortion with local anesthesia. She would have preferred general anesthesia, so she would be asleep for the whole thing, but that cost two hundred dollars more. Mish was already doing so much for her, she couldn’t ask for that luxury. She could stand a few minutes of pain.

  She looked back at the mother and daughter. The mother had an arm around her daughter and was whispering to her as she stroked her hair. The daughter looked up, gave a soft smile and a nod, and then leaned into her mother’s protective embrace. Juliann felt tears start to form.

  “Juliann?”

  She looked up to see a nurse at the door, waiting for her. She nodded, taking a deep breath as she picked up her backpack and stood. She was surprised when she felt Mish standing at her side. Of course. Mish was here. Mish wasn’t even family, but Mish was here. It wasn’t her mom, but it was something. Someone.

  But this someone had done quite enough. She gave Mish a quick hug, then stepped back. “Thank you, Mish, but I can take it from here.”

  Mish looked confused. “But I thought—I thought you’d want me—”

  “I need to do this on my own.”

  “But—”

  She took Mish’s hand and squeezed. “Just wait for me, okay?”

  Mish bit her lip and nodded.

  ***

  Mish watched Juliann disappear through the door and had to fight the urge to run after her. What kind of kid would want to do this alone? She must have done something wrong—something pretty bad if Juliann would rather be alone than have a friend by her side.

  Maybe Juliann was embarrassed about sharing so much last night. Had Mish been too nosy? She’d been curious, of course, but she’d tried so hard not to push. Floyd always said her nosiness would be the death of her.

  That’s not what he had always thought. When their son was little, Floyd had called her Georgie, after that cute little monkey whose mischievous curiosity always got him into trouble. At the time she had thought it was a compliment. It wasn’t until later that she figured out it wasn’t so nice. If she was George, then he was the man in the hat who knew everything and always had to fix all the problems the monkey caused. He got to be the grown-up, and she was the troublesome pet.

  She knew she deserved some of the criticism. She’d caused more than her share of trouble over the years. And yes, she was curious, but wasn’t that a good thing sometimes? If she wasn’t curious there’s a mountain of things she never would have learned.

  But there’s a limit, a voice in her head said. A limit you never seem to know. You were too nosy with Juliann and you pushed her away.

  No, that’s not true, she argued with the voice. I didn’t push. She just opened up because we’re friends.

  You are not friends! the voice insisted. You’re just a busybody old lady who is crazy enough to think God would choose her for some kind of mission!

  Mish couldn’t stand it. She stood up and paced, trying to calm herself down and silence the critic. I’m following the love, Mish reminded herself. That’s all I’m doing—following the love. That don’t mean I’m crazy. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. I’m arguing with a voice in my head. Isn’t that the very meaning of crazy?

  See? I told you! And now you think you’re doing the world some big favor but you’re really just being used by a teenage girl. You think she’d have brought you here if she didn’t need you for money and a ride? She’s probably laughing at you behind your back! You always were a fool!

  When a hand touched her shoulder, Mish nearly jumped out of her skin. “Ma’am? Juliann asked me to give you this.”

  She took the folded piece of paper the nurse was holding out to her, barely mumbling her thanks as she unfolded it and read.

  Mish,

  I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you into the office with me. I could tell it hurt your feelings. I can’t explain it—I just felt like I needed to do this part of it on my own. You’ve been so wonderful and I didn’t want you to have to carry any more of this than necessary.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to find the words to thank you, and to tell you what you mean to me. You’ve not only protected my present but my future, too.

  I still don’t know for sure what you mean when you say you’re “following the love,” but I’m glad you do. Thank you for being my best-grand.

  See you in a little bit.

  Juliann

  Mish didn’t realize she was crying until a tear hit the page. She wasn’t a pest. She hadn’t pushed Juliann away. Juliann loved her, and the voice in her head—well, she knew who that voice belonged to. And the owner of that voice could go to hell…if he wasn’t there already.

  She fumbled through her canvas crochet bag for her notebook. She knew of only one way to deal with the emotions swirling inside her like a cyclone. He had always made fun of her poems. If it was true that the dead could see the living, he was about to regret that.

  Sometimes poetry took a good long time, but this one came out as if her hand had been waiting for years for her heart to be ready to speak. When she got finished, she read it through again.

  You told me that you loved me,

  when you asked me to be your bride.

  You told me that you loved me.

  The problem is: you lied.

  You told me that I was lucky

  to have you by my side.

  You told me that you loved me.

  The problem is: you lied.

  You said you was the expert

  I wasn’t qualified

  To argue with your logic.

  The problem is: you lied.

  You told me I was silly,

  something was wrong with me inside.

  You told me I was stupid.

  The problem is: you lied.

  You told me and I believed you.

  You yelled and terrified.

  But fear don’t live beyond the grave

  So now I’ll tell: you lied.

  From here the story changes.

  I won’t be brushed aside.

  I’m a smart and best-grand woman

  And love will be my guide.

  ***

  “Take your time getting dressed,” the nurse said to her with a kind smile. “There’s no need to rush. Once you’re ready, open the door and I’ll come back in with some last-minute instructions, all right?”

  Juliann nodded, and the nurse closed the door. She didn’t think she needed to take a moment, but for some reason she wasn’t eager to move, either. So she just sat, checking in on how her body felt. Everything she had been told was correct. There had been pain, but it only lasted a few minutes. Now she just felt like she had a bad case of cramps.

  She was less eager to take stock of her emotions. What was she supposed to be feeling? The pro-life people said she should be feeling guilt or shame for killing a defenseless baby. But others said she shouldn’t feel anything at
all. This was a legal medical procedure to terminate a pregnancy, nothing more or less. Was there any middle ground? Could she feel sad and glad at the same time? Could she feel bad for the life that would never be, and still be relieved that it was over?

  What about the future? Would this event stay with her always? When she finally chose to have a child, years from now, would it matter that she terminated her first pregnancy? Would she ever tell her husband? Probably not. Hell, she couldn’t even tell her boyfriend.

  But Aiden was no longer her boyfriend, and he never would be again. She had ended it because she couldn’t predict how he would respond to the pregnancy; she couldn’t take the risk of telling him. But just for a moment she let herself imagine that he was with her, that he was another attentive boyfriend holding his girlfriend’s hand as she did this difficult thing. Then she shook her head and dismissed the thought. It was over. She couldn’t tell him then, and she sure as hell couldn’t tell him now, after the fact.

  She climbed off the gurney and dressed. She was glad she had Mish waiting for her. Mish wouldn’t expect her to be any certain way or feel any certain thing. And if she didn’t feel like talking, Mish was certainly capable of carrying on a conversation without her.

  Juliann jumped when the phone in her backpack rang. She started to answer it and then remembered it wasn’t her phone. She didn’t recognize the number, so she let it go to voicemail. She’d have to remember to tell Mish later.

  But remembering wasn’t going to be a problem. By the time the nurse had finished giving her all the instructions—plus free condoms and a brochure on birth control—the phone had rung two more times. “Somebody is eager to reach you,” the nurse said as she walked Juliann to the exit. Juliann was pretty sure this wasn’t a good sign.

  As soon as she stepped into the lobby and saw Mish sitting there, her eyes filled with tears. She tried to will them away but once they started, there was no going back. Mish walked toward her, looked into her eyes, and then wrapped her in a giant hug. Mish wasn’t a big woman—she was several inches shorter than Juliann—but somehow, in her arms, Juliann felt safe. Protected. Loved. She just let Mish hug her for a little while before finally pulling away to blow her nose. Once she’d caught her breath, she said, “I still need to check out and pay.”