Mustard on Top

by Wanda Degolier

  “Ben,” Helen called from the kitchen then sneezed.

  He pivoted to face her. “What?”

  “Thank you for moving the flowers.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And for dinner.” A sly smile crossed Helen’s face.

  Ben knew what that smile meant and his disposition brightened. “My pleasure.”

  ****

  Gravel crunched beneath her car tires as Helen pulled into the Pateros address Jeremy had given her. She’d envisioned Healing Meadows as a rambling building set in a meadow with plenty of grass and trees. Not as a utilitarian, brown cube with bars on the windows. A few older-model cars were parked at the rear. She searched for a sign, but didn’t find one.

  Helen wished she’d called and confirmed the existence and address before leaving, but she’d feared any delay, that showing any doubt about Jeremy’s plan, might cause him to change his mind. So, on a hope and a whim, she’d hopped in the car.

  The front door had been painted over in areas with several shades of green. “You sure about the address?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Jeremy pushed the car door open and heaved his cement-covered foot out. It hit the ground with a thud, and Jeremy winced before twisting in his seat and clambering out.

  Helen took his crutches from the trunk and handed them to him. After balancing himself, Jeremy hobbled toward the unmarked door. Reluctantly, Helen followed.

  She caught up to Jeremy as he pushed a red button to the left of the door. A buzzer, sounding like a thousand angry hornets, sounded. Jeremy turned and gave her half a smile. With his unkempt, scraggly hair and a bird’s nest growing around his mouth and down his chin, he appeared a rehab prime candidate. Helen smiled back.

  The door swung open. An elderly woman standing on the other side looked from Jeremy to Helen and back again.

  “Is this Healing Meadows?” Helen asked.

  The woman gave a single curt nod then focused on Jeremy. “You coming here of your own free will?” Her voice sounded as if her vocal chords had gone through a coffee grinder.

  “I am.”

  The woman looked him up and down. “You can come in,” she said to Jeremy. “You wait out here.” She nodded in Helen’s direction.

  “But–”

  Grasping Jeremy’s elbow, the woman guided him through the open door. Helen considered barging past them, but settled for a peek inside. There were no people in lab coats, only three men, all grungy and tattooed, playing cards. Compared to Jeremy’s gaunt features, they looked healthy.

  Once Jeremy was over the threshold, the woman turned to Helen. “Give us a bit of time, we’ll let you know if he qualifies for the program. If you’re not here when we’re done, we’ll release him over 38th Avenue and Venice.”

  “You can’t do that,” Helen said.

  The woman stared at her. “Wait here.” She pointed down.

  “Wait.” Helen yelled.

  The woman made a slow pivot. “Yes?”

  “I need to make a phone call. Can I leave and come back?”

  “We’ll be at least half an hour.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aware of the minutes passing, Helen drove around looking for a pay phone while cursing herself for not having a cell phone. Chicago. The annoying word floated across her mind like an airplane banner.

  She found a phone in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour, convenience store with barred windows. After fishing in her purse and car and finding a mere $1.30 in change, she was relieved to learn the phone took credit cards. After inserting her card, she dialed Agatha’s number.

  “Hello?” A man’s voice.

  Wrong number? “I was trying to reach Agatha Cashman.”

  “One moment. Hon, it’s for you.”

  Hon? “Hello?” The voice was Agatha’s only happier than usual.

  “Agatha?”

  “Yes. How may I help you?”

  “Who answered the phone?” Helen asked. “Not Moe.”

  “Oh you didn’t miss much at the book club meeting,” Agatha said. “Half the girls didn’t read the book as usual.”

  “Uh.” Agatha had obviously taken the charade with Moe too far. Helen would be paying her a visit when she got back. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Yep. As usual, we are in agreement. I didn’t think Gabrial’s motivation was strong enough either.”

  Helen took that as a yes. “I brought Jeremy to a rehabilitation center this morning.”

  “Really? Did you understand the end? I’ve never heard of the place where Gabrial went. Where’d he go again?”

  “Healing Meadows in Pateros.” If they let him stay.

  “That’s right,” Agatha said.

  “I thought you’d want to know.”

  “The next book we’re reading is In Love by Adrianne Lane.”

  Was Agatha telling her she was in love with Moe? Helen hoped not. Before Helen had responded, Agatha spoke again.

  “Okay. I must run I’m afraid,” Agatha said. “Thank you for the call.”

  “Bye.” Helen hung up. After buying another coffee, she went back to Healing Meadows. Afraid to disobey the old woman’s orders, Helen leaned against the wall next to the door where she’d dropped Jeremy off.

  Every minute dragged by. Forty-five minutes later, she wondered if she’d been forgotten. She was about to ring the bell when the door opened and the little woman who’d greeted them before smiled, showing her own set of bad teeth.

  “Come in.”

  Healing Meadows smelled of cigarette smoke and had walls tarnished in hues of yellow. Men and a few women sat on tattered furniture. Some sat at folding tables playing board games.

  The woman hobbled to an office and opened the door. Helen followed her in and found Jeremy seated at the far end of the desk. Helen glanced at his leg hoping they’d given him medical care. They hadn’t. The woman, who was at least a foot shorter than Helen, rounded the desk and sat. Helen lower herself into the chair next to Jeremy.

  “I’m Maggie,” the woman said.

  “I’m Helen.” She held out her hand to shake, but Maggie ignored her.

  “Thank you for waiting. Were you able to make your phone call?” Maggie asked.

  Helen glanced at Jeremy then nodded.

  “Who’d you call?” Maggie wanted to know.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The call. Who’d you call?”

  “Tell her the truth,” Jeremy said levelly.

  Helen furrowed her brow, hesitating.

  Maggie said, “Helen, we don’t play games. We’re a non-profit. We never charge the client and are, therefore, limited to the numbers of clients we can take. We only accept those who are completely honest. We believe that honesty to yourself and others is the cornerstone of staying clean. Lying drives people to the addiction to begin with.”

  “I understand.”

  “Who’d you call?”

  Helen wondered what Jeremy had told the woman. “His mother. I let her know he was here.”

  Neither Jeremy nor the woman seemed surprised.

  “What did she say?” Maggie asked.

  Uncomfortable relaying the odd conversation, Helen covered her mouth. The gesture had the old lady raising her eyebrows. Helen was sure the woman had a built in lie detector. “She said the next book club book was In Love by Adriane Lane.”

  The woman looked at Jeremy pointedly. Helen rushed in trying to repair the damage. “I think someone was with her and she didn’t want to discuss Jeremy in front of him. Jeremy’s mother was speaking in code, sort of. We don’t talk like that normally.” Helen had said too much and clamped her mouth shut.

  “Was she with Moe?” Jeremy asked.

  “I don’t know.” Then figuring Maggie would know she was lying she added, “I think so.” She hoped Moe’s involvement with Agatha wouldn’t upset Jeremy. Sneaking a peek at him, she found he was scowling.

  “Would Agatha be supportive of Jeremy’s stay here?” Maggie asked.

>   Finally an easy question. “Definitely.”

  “It’s settled. Jeremy can stay. There will be thirty days of no contact.” Maggie slid some papers across the table toward Helen. “Read these, fill them out, and sign them.”

  “Me?”

  Maggie picked up the phone and stabbed in a few numbers. “We got a new patient. Can you take him back?”

  Helen looked at the papers. She trusted the non-profit and didn’t read the small print. Surely, a non-profit catering to drug addicts was trustworthy.

  “Can I speak with Jeremy alone?” Helen asked Maggie.

  Maggie pushed herself up from her chair. “I’ll hold the wolves at bay.” She left the room and closed the door.

  “Is this what you want Jeremy? Is this what you expected?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you been here before?”

  He shook his head no.

  “How’d you hear about it?”

  “Word gets around.”

  “You say this place was recommended?” Doubt crept into her voice.

  “The place is run by ex-druggies. They know what they’re doing.”

  Helen had to admit, Maggie looked like an ex-addict. “Are they going to help you with your leg?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Helen sighed. What a strange world Jeremy had chosen. She had her misgivings, but what could she do? “Okay.”

  She began filling out the paperwork. Halfway through the second page, a man came for Jeremy. Jeremy stood then offered his hand. When Helen shook it, Jeremy say, “Thank you, Helen.”

  The lump in Helen’s throat kept her from speaking, so she nodded.

  ****

  Ben tried to sleep after Helen and Jeremy had left, but couldn’t. Then he’d tried to do work for the office. Unable to concentrate for more than a few minutes straight, he gave up and went to the basement, thinking he’d tidy up the loose ends of the Jeremy fiasco before he left for Chicago. He needed to know he’d done everything in his power to help. Even if Helen and Theo didn’t need him.

  Every time he pictured Helen driving off with Jeremy in the passenger’s seat, he bristled. Helen didn’t own a cell phone, and she intended to spend six hours on the road with an unpredictable drug addict? Did this place in Pateros even exist, and if it did, would the treatment center accept Jeremy? Helen’s actions had been impetuous and stupid.

  With blankets bunched under his arm and his sour mood growing worse, Ben climbed the stairs. He stuffed the blankets into a washing machine that was probably older than him, measured out soap, and poured it in. I should surprise Helen with a new washer and dryer, he thought then squashed the idea. Helen didn’t need him.

  Ben jabbed the button to start the washer. Why am I so angry? he wondered. Had he hoped to find Helen and Theo broken? Certainly not. But if not, why did Helen’s words hurt? Did his ego require he mend their lives in order to assuage his own guilt? The easy thing he could offer, money, seemed to make no difference.

  Ben grabbed a broom, a stab of pain in his neck made him flinch. His muscles were tight. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to work out the tension. He missed his weekly massages. At least with Jeremy gone, he’d be back to his routine soon. In fact, he should get his ticket home. His heart felt like a lump of iron thudding in his chest, and he was struck with an urgent desire to see Theo.

  He checked the time: 9:15 a.m. Late enough. He plucked his cell from the clip on his belt and dialed.

  “Hello.” Theo’s voice was slow and deep.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  Theo dragged in a breath. “It’s all right. I had to get up to answer the phone anyway. What time is it?”

  Guilt pricked Ben’s conscience. “After nine. Sorry, you can go back to sleep.”

  “Nah. I need to get up.”

  “You working today?”

  “Dinner to closing.”

  “You want to work on Maddy or do something this morning?” Ben asked and heard Theo yawn then stretch.

  “Maybe. I need to do a few things first.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Maybe.”

  Ben smiled. “I can be over there in half an hour. Will that work?”

  “Sure.”

  Thirty minutes later, Ben stood at the door to his hotel room listening to the tinny garble of canned laughter. He knocked.

  “Door’s open!”

  Ben tried the handle, it didn’t move, but the door pushed open. Ben leaned over to examine the lock. The hole in the doorjamb for the lock had been stuffed.

  “I got tired of getting up to answer the door,” Theo called from inside.

  “Ah.” Deciding against lecturing Theo on the finer points of security, Ben closed the door and walked in. Theo sat on the chair with his feet propped on the coffee table next to an empty bowl. His hair was damp and he was clean-shaven. The Simpsons played on the television.

  Ben sat on the side of the bed. “Good morning.”

  “How’s the captive?”

  “Left for a rehab center this morning.”

  “Cool. Can I come home?”

  “Not if you’re allergic to flowers or pollen.”

  Theo crinkled his nose. “I don’t think I am, why?”

  “Seth sent your Mom forty-five bouquets of flowers and something in them has your Mom’s allergies in a tizzy.”

  “What? Theo looked disgusted as Ben explained about Seth’s marriage proposal. When Ben finished, Theo shook his head. “He’s always had a thing for my Mom, but jeez. At least she’s got you now.”

  Ben almost choked. Clearly, Theo’s assumptions about him and Helen were wrong. But Ben couldn’t discuss their relationship, not when confusion clouded his own thoughts.

  “So what would you like to do this morning?” Ben asked.

  Theo picked up the remote and clicked off the television. “I kind of need to talk to you about something.”

  Ben’s pulse picked up. “What’s that?”

  “I’ve been talking to Emerson College.”

  Pride gurgled up to Ben’s face and popped out in the form of a smile. His son would go to college after all, but Emerson? He tried to remember it. “Sounds vaguely familiar,” he lied. “What kind of degree do you want?”

  “They have business degrees as well as auto engineering degrees.”

  “That sounds like a good fit.” Emerson. He still hadn’t recalled the college.

  “I figured if I want to run a vintage car shop, I should have both.”

  “Do you need help with the tuition?”

  “Nah.” Disappointment ate at Ben. Like mother like son.

  “Have you been accepted?”

  “It’s not an accepting kind of place. You pay your tuition and go. But I’ve confirmed there’s room for me.”

  Ben gave up on his mental archives. “Is Emerson in Washington?”

  “Detroit.”

  “Hey, that’s only a few hours from Chicago. I can visit you.”

  The statement drew a deep frown from Theo then his gaze shifted to the blank television screen.

  Ben backtracked. “I don’t need to visit.”

  The creases around Theo’s mouth deepened as he stared absently.

  “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

  Theo heaved. “I sort of thought you’d be staying here.”

  “Here?” How had Theo drawn that conclusion?

  “Here in Nalley. With Mom.”

  Ben’s mouth moved but nothing came out.

  “Never mind.” Scowling, Theo pointed the remote at the television.

  “Wait.” Ben held up a hand, and Theo lowered the remote. “You surprised me, that’s all. I… uh… we… uh… we… haven’t talked. Your mother and I.”

  “I just thought… when I saw you in her bed that… well, I guess that’s old-fashioned, but Mom is kind of old-fashioned that way.”

  “What difference would it make if I stayed?” As Ben asked, the dots connected. Awaren
ess dawned. “Wait a second. Do you think I need to be here in order for you to go to college?”

  One corner of Theo’s mouth lifted.

  “That’s why you haven’t gone to college.” Everything made suddenly sense and Ben felt sickly triumphant. “You’re staying to take care of your mom.”

  “Someone needs to look out for her.”

  Ben choked on a laugh. “Don’t tell her that.”

  “What if she goes into hypoglycemic shock and no one is around?”

  “You can’t let your Mom’s health hold you back. Do you know how disappointed she’d be if she knew?”

  “I’m the only family she has. I won’t abandon her.”

  And poof, just like that, Ben was at a crossroads again. Theo had unwittingly asked him to do what Helen had asked of him eighteen years earlier: to give up his plans for another person.

  An old pressure on his shoulders made every breath more labored. If he stayed in Nalley, everything he’d worked toward, every late night, every weekend he’d worked, would be for naught. The prestige, the money, gone. He wanted to hop in his car like he’d done so many years ago and take a drive.

  Theo’s cell phone rang giving Ben a reprieve.

  Flicking a glance at Ben, Theo answered his cell. “Yo. I guess I could come in.” A few seconds passed. “Okay, bye.” Theo stood.

  “What’s happening?”

  “They need me to help at Hot Diggitys. Mom’s not there yet and they’re already slammed.” He disappeared into the bathroom then came out wearing a Hot Diggitys shirt spotted with condiments. Without making eye contact, Theo tossed out, “later,” and left.

  Ben felt like an intruder in his own hotel room, but feared returning to Helen’s place would be worse. He wouldn’t make the mistake of driving off again. Emerson College, Theo had said. Ben’s gaze drifted to the desk where a pile of paperwork sat next to an open FedEx box.

  Theo is misguided, Ben thought. Helen is capable of taking care of herself. An idea occurred to Ben, he could hire someone to monitor Helen’s diabetes. A nurse would do a better job than he or Theo ever could.

  He stared at the pile, what did it contain? Theo’s dreams? Ben rose slowly, the moral dilemma of whether to spy was still being fought in his mind. Abject curiosity was winning and as he treaded toward Theo’s paperwork. The top sheet had a credit card receipt for $4,500 attached to an admissions letter from Emerson College.