The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3)

by Katharine Sadler

  Anger twisted her features. “No. I’ve protected you.” She pulled her hands from Mary’s and glared at the other woman. “You told her to lie to me. This is just another trick to get me to go to that horrible place you want to lock me away in.”

  “I’m not lying, Momma. I’m not lying to you or anyone else, not anymore.” I pulled out my phone and brought up pictures from my bungee jump. “That day you had a bad feeling last month, because you’d seen a report about the dangers of air pollution and thought it best I stay inside, I went bungee jumping.” I showed her the pictures, scrolling through them. “I’ve also been hang-gliding and rock-climbing. I almost went sky-diving. I’ve been so scared of…”

  “Of ending up like me,” she said. Her words shocked me so much I almost fell over. I didn’t think she saw me anymore, not really. She was so wrapped up in her own fears, I didn’t think she noticed me at all other than as a source of food and comfort.

  “Yes, I was afraid if I didn’t confront my fears, I’d end up like you, but I’ve realized that I was blowing everything out of proportion. I don’t have anxiety like you did.” I look up into her face. “And you always did, didn’t you?”

  “I want to stop being afraid,” she said. “But I thought…” A tear slid down her cheek and she placed her hands over mine. “I’ve really never protected you at all?”

  “No. I thought if I let you think you were, it would make you feel better, but it didn’t. I’m tired of…” I looked into her face, her expression so sad and so lost. “I’m just tired of seeing you so unhappy, Momma. I’ve tried so hard to make it up to you for leaving, but nothing I’ve done has helped. You’re only getting worse and I can’t…I can’t watch you die and do nothing. I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

  “Die? But I’m safe here, Dilly.”

  I rolled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt and revealed her own thin, fragile arm. “You’re wasting away.”

  She shook her head. “I’m perfectly fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Are you happy?” I asked. “Can you honestly tell me you’re happy?”

  She laced her fingers through mine and gave me a weak smile. “Sure, I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be. I have everything I need right here. I don’t need to go to some far-away place to be happy.”

  She was still afraid we were just trying to convince her to move to the home. “I’m not asking you to leave, but I am telling you, I can’t do this anymore. Things have to change. I can’t call you six times a day and run over here every time you hear a strange noise.”

  Her face paled. “But I need you, Dilly. I need to know you’re okay and I—”

  “I’ll be here,” Mary said. “And Norma Jane, Betty, Leah. If you need anything, one of us can be here to help you, but only if you agree to talk to someone, if you agree to get help.”

  I glared at Mary, shocked and angry. This hadn’t been part of the plan.

  Mom’s hands shook in mine. “I can’t. They’ll want me to take pills and the pills make it so I can’t feel anything. I can’t warn anyone.”

  I gripped her hands tight in mine, until she focused on me and the panic on her face subsided a tiny bit. “The bad feelings are just feelings, Momma. I ignored every one of them and I’m fine. You need to let them go if you’re ever going to be happy and healthy again.”

  She twisted her hands free of mine and stood so quickly I fell onto my butt. “No,” she said. “I won’t see any more doctors. I won’t take any of that poison they’re peddling.”

  She stormed past me to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. I pushed to my feet and wrapped my arms around myself. I started toward her room, but Mary put a gentle hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. “Give her some space. You’ve just dropped a nuclear bomb on her worldview and you need to give her some time to digest what you’ve said.

  I spun on Mary, fear and sorrow clawing at my chest. “You didn’t tell me you’d talk to her about seeing a doctor. I could have told you it would upset her.”

  Mary wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight. “You’ve been protecting your Momma from any kind of hurt for so long, child, I know it’s hard to let it go. But you can’t protect her from what she’s doing to herself and neither can I. You need to let someone else take care of her for a little while.”

  The tears surprised me, but they didn’t stop. They built to sobs and I cried against her shoulder like a little girl. She held me and rubbed gentle circles on my back. “It’s okay, sugar. You did the very best you could. You’ve been the most wonderful daughter she could have ever asked for, but it’s time now to let other people help. It’s time for you to live your own life.”

  I stepped out of her arms and wiped my eyes. “Do you think I’ve been wrong? Should I have forced her to get help years ago?”

  She grimaced. “There’s no sense in beating yourself up about past choices. She wasn’t willing to get help before and you did the very best you could. That’s all you could have done.”

  I started toward my mother’s room, but Mary pulled me back again. “I’ll stay with her for a bit, dear. You go home and get some rest.”

  “But I’m the only one who can calm her down and I—”

  “And you’re beyond exhausted. Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll call if she needs you.”

  I wanted to argue, but Mary was a kind woman and there was nothing but sympathy in her eyes. Plus, I was so tired I could barely see straight and sleep sounded like the best thing in the world. “Thank you, Mary. I don’t know how I’ll—”

  “You’ve got nothing to thank me for. You were a child and none of us noticed you needed our help. Let us help you now.”

  I left, feeling like I was letting my mother down and leaving a piece of myself behind.

  ***

  Carrie stepped onto her front porch and closed the door behind her. “Cody’s putting the kids to bed, but he’s going to call me up to say goodnight to them in just a minute.”

  “I only need a minute,” I said. “I just need to tell how sorry I am for lying to you all these years. I thought I was being a good friend by keeping my problems to myself, but I can see now that I was shutting you out.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me the truth. Did you think I’d judge you or interfere in some way?”

  I rubbed my palms on my thighs and looked up into the night sky for some sort of assistance but found none. “Honestly, you were an escape. My mother needed so much and, when I was with you, I could pretend she was fine and I was free to be young and not worry about her for a bit. I was afraid of losing that, afraid of losing you if I told you the truth and it was more than you wanted to deal with—”

  “I would never—”

  “I know,” I said. “At least I know that now, but I…For a long time, I didn’t think too highly of myself, didn’t think you’d have reason enough to want to be my friend if I wasn’t happy and easy all the time.”

  “Dilly…”

  I held up my hand. “And the other reason, the biggest reason, is that ever since Mom got sick, I’ve felt like I’ve had this expiration date over my head. That one day I’d lose someone I loved, and I’d become afraid of life and hide from it like she does. I kept you at a distance and I told myself I was doing it for you, but I was really doing it for myself.”

  Her eyes glimmered with tears. “But you’re the bravest person I know.”

  I grinned, feeling for the first time like I had a shot at getting my best friend back. “I’m a really excellent liar.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe I never suspected…” It was her turn to stare up at the stars, her expression thoughtful. “I mean there were times when I suspected you were holding something back or that there was more going than you wanted to share, but I never suspected…” She looked at me. “And I never pushed. I never questioned you. I should have seen more, should have pushed harder.”

  “It wouldn’t ha
ve changed anything,” I said. “Nothing you said or did would have made me give up Mom’s secret. Mary’s been pushing for weeks and she wouldn’t have found out everything if Aunt Melly hadn’t blabbed.”

  Carrie didn’t look convinced. “Do you really think you’ll develop the same anxiety and paranoia your mother has?”

  “I’m beginning to believe I won’t, but it probably wouldn’t hurt if I talked to someone about it. Maybe got the help I begged Mom to get for so long.”

  She wiped at her cheeks and smiled. “You know you can always talk to me, too. About anything. I promise to pay attention this time, to notice when you need more help than you’ll admit, when you’re…”

  I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in for a tight hug. “You’re an amazing friend, Carrie. You didn’t notice because I did everything I could to hide the truth from you.”

  She pulled back from the hug and smiled. “No more lies and no more secrets, okay?”

  I let her go, spit on my hand, and stuck it out. She rolled her eyes, but she spit on her palm and shook my hand. “Deal,” I said.

  “Wanna come in for a bit?” she asked. “I have to tuck the kids in, but maybe we could hang out after. You have a lot of years of secrets to spill.”

  “I’d love that.”

  ***

  I woke to a bright, sunshiney morning and stretched my arms over my head. I felt good, a bit groggy, but lighter. I’d slept through the night. I’d had no phone calls, no desperate pleas from my mother. Immediately, my light feeling turned to dread. What if Mary hadn’t let Mom call? What if she was so bad they’d had to take her to the hospital?

  I got out of bed and trotted downstairs to the land line in the kitchen. I had the receiver in my hand and was half-way through dialing my mother’s number, when I stopped myself. If I called, I’d be no better than her, checking up because I was worried. If there’d been a problem, Mary would have called me. I hung up, my hands shaking a bit, and looked down at Buddy, who was standing next to me, a worried expression on his face. Me stomping down the stairs like an elephant had probably scared him. “I’m fine, Buddy. Just had a momentary freak out.”

  I took him out for a quick visit to the front yard before I showered, dressed, and took him for a longer walk. The day was warm, humid, and the sun was shining. Everyone I passed on the street smiled at me. Sandra, who was hurrying to work with a coffee mug in one hand and a bagel in the other, stopped and gave me a hug. “Sorry about your, Momma, sugar,” she said. “Let me know if I can help.”

  “Thanks, Sandra.” She gave me another squeeze and hurried off. The nosiness and gossip-mongering of a small town might drive me crazy sometimes, but it was beyond words wonderful to have so many good people on my side.

  A bit of worry still niggled in the back of my brain, but I pushed it aside. I took Buddy back home, ate a quick breakfast, and hurried off to work. As I did every day, I dialed my mother’s number as I stood just outside the coffee shop. I tapped my foot as the phone rang and rang in my ear. My heart raced as the phone just kept ringing. I went into full-out panic when the answering machine clicked on.

  My phone was still gripped tight in my hand when I spun around and smacked right into a large and very warm body. Strong hands gripped my shoulders and I looked up into Oscar’s face. He smiled down at me, but I couldn’t see it. All I could see was my mother, curled in the fetal position, sobbing or worse…I couldn’t even think about it. All my hope, all the lightness I’d felt when I woke up, vanished and was replaced by overwhelming guilt. I’d done it again. I’d pushed too hard and now my mother was paying for it.

  Oscar’s smile faded. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s Mom. I need to go.”

  I twisted free of his hands and took off at a run. I made it one block before he was next to me, jogging easily. “I’ll help,” he said.

  “You’ll only make it worse.” I could just picture my mother’s face when I walked in with another stranger.

  He didn’t falter, didn’t slow his pace. “Then I’ll wait outside. I’m not leaving you to handle this alone.”

  I glanced over at him. I should tell him to get lost, should tell him I wanted him out of my life, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted him there. I wanted him with me in case the worst had happened.

  By the time we reached my mother’s building, I was gasping for air, bent over, hands on my knees. Oscar rubbed my back. “Just breathe,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”

  He wasn’t out of breath at all, and apparently, he thought my difficulty breathing was from worry and not from my being completely and utterly out of shape. I pulled in three deep breaths, stood, and faced him. “Would you mind waiting down here? If she’s in there and she’s upset…”

  “I’ll wait right outside the door,” he said, his tone firm. “If you need help, I want to be able to hear you call for me.”

  God, how did I get so lucky to have this man on my side, even after everything I’d said and done to him? I threw my arms around him in an impulsive hug and he squeezed me so tight. I wanted to stay there in his arms, didn’t want to go upstairs and see the horrible state my mother had to be in. “Thank you,” I said.

  He said nothing, just held me, a silent source of strength, until I managed to find the resolve I needed to climb those stairs. I pushed out of his arms, but he laced his fingers through mine and held my hand, not letting go.

  When we got to the top of the stairs, I knocked and then banged on the door. When there was no answer, the tears slid down my cheeks and my hands started shaking so bad I couldn’t knock anymore.

  “Do you have a key?” Oscar asked.

  “In my purse.” I reached and tried to unsnap the flap to get into my bag, but I couldn’t get my fingers to work. Gently, Oscar pushed my hand aside and took my bag from me. He opened the bag, rifled through it and pulled out a jangly set of keys.

  “Are these the ones?”

  I nodded and reached for them, but he shook his head. “I got it.” He fitted the key into each of the locks, and I listened as they clicked open. If Mom had chained the door, we wouldn’t be able to get in, but the door swung open as the last key clicked in the lock. I stepped forward, but Oscar pulled me back with a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll go in, first, just in case…”

  He didn’t need to say the words, my chest tightened as he voiced the possibility I’d barely dared think about. “I can’t ask you to do that. What if—”

  “You’re not asking.” He put his hands on my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m doing this for you, because I choose to. Let me help you, Dilly. Let me be here for you.”

  “Okay,” I said, because I didn’t think I could take a step into that apartment and face the horrible scene I was sure awaited me.

  He pressed a soft kiss to my lips and went inside. I wrapped my arms around my middle and squeezed tight. My heart was trying to climb its way out of my throat. I felt like I might break apart, like my body couldn’t contain all the fear and emotion that was overwhelming me. Oscar returned what must have been less than a minute later, his expression easy, his smile gentle. “Everything’s okay,” he said.

  He laced his fingers through mine and pulled me inside and down the hall. As we neared my mother’s bedroom, I heard the bathroom fan, water running, and low voices. My heart started to slow to a normal rate, but my stomach was still twisted in knots. It wasn’t until I saw my mother’s frail body, her head in the bathroom sink as Mary washed her hair, that I truly relaxed.

  Mary looked at me and smiled. “I’m almost done, honey. Wait for us in the living room?”

  I let Oscar pull me to the living room and sat on the couch with him. He kept his hand in mine and just waited with me, not saying a word, not asking any questions, not asking me for anything. The sound of the hair dryer let me know it wouldn’t be much longer until I faced my mother again and I gripped Oscar’s hand tighter, my nerves returning.

  When my mother walked into the living room
, Mary right behind her, she looked a bit more like the mother I’d known as a child. Mary had colored the gray from her hair, returning it to the golden blond it had once been. “What do you think?” Momma asked with a nervous smile.

  “I think you look beautiful,” I said.

  Her gaze settled on Oscar and I remembered my manners. “Momma, this is Oscar. My…”

  “Friend,” Oscar said. He stood and offered his hand to my mother. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompkins.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “Can I offer you a drink? Something to eat?”

  “I should get to work,” he said. “But thank you. Maybe another time.”

  He said hello to Mary and left with only a quick glance back at me before he walked out the door. Momma sat in the stained armchair.

  “Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked.

  “I called, and you didn’t answer. I was worried.”

  Her brow furrowed. “We must not have heard the phone ring from the bathroom, but I thought you said you weren’t going to call anymore.”

  “I…I know I said that, but I…”

  “It’s okay,” Momma said, her voice tremulous. “Maybe just call me at the end of your day. Let me know that you’re home safe.”

  “Okay.”

  Mary had disappeared to the back of the apartment after Oscar left, but she returned and smiled at both of us. “Your Momma has agreed to talk to a therapist, Dilly. Dr. Wilcox will be by in an hour for her first session. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “That’s so wonderful,” I said. Mom was biting her bottom lip, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap, and tapping her toes, all clear signs that she was nervous, but she wasn’t full on freaking out. “I’m so proud of you, Momma.”