Heartbeat Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  “You’re into her,” Ester said.

  “Yeah,” Henry said.

  “I haven’t known her that long. She’s super intense about the job. I’ve never seen her date. I know she had loser parents so maybe she has issues.”

  “You think I’m a loser?” Henry tried to see himself from Ester’s point of view. His uncle giving him this job and him following Rayanne around, and asking for help on the most basic administrative tasks.

  “Don’t know you well enough to have an opinion on that. I thought that’s the sort of information you were asking for. It would be difficult to understate what her work here means to her. She has insanely high standards and she expects everyone else to live up to them too. Don’t be surprised if she’s disappointed sometimes.”

  Henry, with no apartment, a crap car, and flimsy ambition. What did he have to offer someone like her? She knew what she wanted and he only knew what he didn’t want.

  “I guess I’d better get back to her checklists,” he said.

  Ester smiled in solidarity. “I got a Rayanne checklist of my own.”

  Henry turned to leave but she stopped him. “In my post-flood cleaning furor I found some video equipment. I’m sure it won’t come as a surprise that it was donated and it’s not great. But I’m cleaning it up. I thought we could use it to make a little movie about the arts festival. What do you think?”

  “I like it,” Henry said. “I’ll try to come up with some bits to film.”

  28

  Rayanne did the grocery shopping while Grandpa visited Earl in the rehab center. She had walked him in there hoping to find something in the experience she might use to kick-start a conversation about getting him into a better place to live. But the place where Earl was staying was the equivalent of a motel room described as clean and comfortable. There was no getting around it. It was an institutional place that cared for old people. He wasn’t going to see himself in this situation.

  The common rooms were decorated with light green chairs and coffee tables covered with well-worn magazines. The magazine covers featured either old people playing golf or celebrities that were only old by Hollywood standards, and had a wealthy lifestyle that could accommodate the challenges of aging.

  Before she left for the store, Grandpa patted her arm and said, “Don’t forget me here.”

  So how was she supposed to bring it up?

  She had two shopping lists. One for Grandpa and one for the week’s meal delivery. She put soup, oatmeal, and fruit in the cart. She was planning to make a couple of side salads to go with Henry’s idea for elk barbecue sandwiches.

  Henry.

  Gorgeous Henry with the big strong arms and curious hands that took their time, never rushing. His warm mouth working across her body with endless teasing kisses. His heart thudded against her cheek when she collapsed on top of him afterward. A warm thrill spread through her and into the predictable places. She wouldn’t have minded him coming over again but he needed to sort out his living situation, and she needed to keep her head on straight. She was not going to be that woman who took care of guys who couldn’t take care of themselves.

  She snorted out loud over that one.

  But Grandpa was different. Grandpa was family. Grandma and Grandpa had taken care of her and made so many sacrifices. She wanted to do the same for him.

  She checked the time and wrapped up the shopping. By the time she returned to the rehab center, Grandpa was waiting out front.

  “Did something go wrong?” Rayanne asked.

  “No,” Grandpa said, his voice bright, “Earl is doing good. He’s a tough old coot.”

  “Your words or the staff?”

  “Mine. He said he wants to go back to his house. His kids are telling him it’s time to stop living on his own. I don’t know what they’re thinking. This is the first time something happened. Once he’s back on his feet, he’ll be good as always. He’s doing all the physical therapy and extra if they let him.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Grandpa’s voice suddenly sounded at least four times stronger. She was conscious of not wanting to make him angry. Their relationship had always been smooth because Grandpa had always left the hard parts to Grandma. He was never around when Rayanne sassed back about breaking curfew, or insisted on wearing denim short shorts, or brought home a poor grade because she didn’t get along with the teacher. Grandpa never weighed in on those battles. He was the one who watched Westerns with her when she was home sick. He would stick a couple of twenty-dollar bills into her pocket when she went back to college after a break.

  Since Rayanne graduated, they shared meals together and they still watched Westerns. But now some serious issues were creeping up and they would have to figure out how to navigate them together.

  “I’m worried about you, is all,” Rayanne said.

  “Not needed,” Grandpa said. “I’m slow but I get around. You got years before you need to worry about me.”

  “Grandpa.” Rayanne let a pleading tone creep into her voice.

  “You’re not putting me in a home.”

  “No one is talking about a home. You were so sad about losing your friends. I thought you might want to talk about elder housing.”

  “When you’re young, there’s something almost magical about elders. They seem so wise and fragile. Becoming one happened faster than I expected and not much fun.”

  Rayanne didn’t know how to respond.

  “I wonder if they was all as cranky and impatient inside. Your body doesn’t always do what you expect it to do. I get tired.”

  “We all get a turn,” Rayanne said.

  “If we’s lucky,” Grandpa said. “I like my apartment. I like everything the way it is.” There was no mistaking the finality of that statement.

  “Okay,” Rayanne said. “What about other options? A helper to stop by?”

  “I don’t need as much help as you think I do. I get around fine.” Grandpa’s voice got louder. “The other night I got a little mixed up and then it got dark. I would have found my way home. Don’t treat me like I’m helpless.”

  Rayanne heard pain and betrayal in his voice. This is not how she wanted this to go.

  “Forget I brought it up.” Rayanne pulled up to his apartment. Grandpa popped the door open and struggled with the seatbelt buckle. It pained her to do so but, instead of helping him, she got out and grabbed the grocery bags from the trunk.

  Grandpa managed to spring himself loose. He headed off for his apartment at a good clip. He could move fast when he wanted to. She followed him and at first he tried to close the door on her.

  “What are you doing? I have your groceries.”

  “Leave them out there, I’ll get them later,” he said.

  “Knock it off. I’m the only family you have left,” she said, her voice catching.

  Grandpa retreated. He watched her put the groceries on the table. “I can put them away myself.”

  “I don’t mind. It’ll take a second.” Rayanne pulled a couple cans of soup out of one bag and carried them to the cupboard.

  “I said I’d do it,” Grandpa said, an anger in his eyes she hadn’t seen since her mom was around and making life miserable.

  Rayanne set the cans down. “Go ahead. Do it yourself.”

  “It’s time for you to go,” he went on. He pointed at the door. “Go on now.”

  She’d seen this same drama play out once before. But that time it was her mom being shown the door. Only her mom had been an addict and a thief. She was mean, too, trying to hurt all of them. She had accused Rayanne of being a terrible daughter for not wanting to live with her, but she couldn’t keep a stable household for herself.

  That was a different situation. Rayanne was none of these things.

  “I don’t want you to barge in here any old time without calling first. I don’t want you to go around behind my back thinking you’re going to arrange things.”

  She searched for the right words, despera
te to fix this now. She couldn’t stand the idea of leaving with him so angry with her.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  Grandpa shook his head. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Call me if I can do anything,” she said as she left. Her heart was breaking as she shut the door behind her.

  29

  The entire drive to his mom’s, Henry flipped through various versions of the story, searching for the one she would respond to best. She had a low opinion of any deflection of blame. There was no such thing as something that wasn’t your fault. A man had to take responsibility for his decisions. Henry should have been searching for a better living situation all along. He should have been better with money when he had a good job. He shouldn’t have moped around after he got laid off. He should try to make friends with people who were going places. Somehow he had to guess the future of people around him, if he was going to be truly responsible.

  He parked the van but couldn’t muster the courage to get out right away.

  They’d already had this conversation. More than once. After he finished college, she agreed he could move back while he searched for a job. She even said she liked having him around again. He made dinner for her a couple nights a week, and they would have adult conversations about current events or local politics.

  He’d been lucky to find a job right away. He hadn’t even known what he was looking for, so parts clerk sounded okay. And that’s what it was, okay. He found an apartment. He paid his bills. He went out with his friends. And he didn’t hate it but he could sense a little bit of his soul being torn away every day. He was secretly relieved when he’d been laid off, assuming he’d find something better.

  She’d let him move back, and the second time was a disaster. He ignored her rules. He left dishes in the sink. He stayed out too late and slept in too long. Then she told him he was turning into a loser like his dad. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem surprised or disappointed. When she said the words, it was like she had confirmation of something she had always known.

  He simultaneously hated her for saying that and was struck deep in his heart, because the way things were going, she was right. That was when he’d moved into the place with Jack and worked his various odd jobs. He and Mom forged a precarious truce. And here he was, in a rough patch, daring to ask for help again.

  Mom made an unhappy noise when he came in. “What’s the bad news?”

  Henry might have kept it light and even made a joke about it, but Mom was asking for the story. “They threw us out. They took all our things and threw them on the ground. They locked us out.” It was as painful to talk about now as it was explaining it to Rayanne.

  “This was today?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Where did you stay last night?”

  He should have been ready for the question but it caught him by surprise. If it took him too long to answer, she would figure it out with her special mom-perception.

  “With the guys,” he said. “But they’re already overcrowded. I can’t stay there again.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She waited. She was going to make him ask. She wasn’t going to offer.

  “Can I stay here until I can find a place?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, sweetie. I know this is a kick when you’re down but remember, we had a deal.” There was no joy in her voice.

  Henry stared at her, astonished. “But this is a special circumstance. They gave us a short warning and then they threw us out. For real. It takes time to find an apartment.” He hoped she wouldn’t ask how many places they’d looked at because anything less than a hundred would be a disappointment to her.

  Mom sat there, unmoved.

  “The deal was I had to get a job. I have a job.”

  “Arnie said you didn’t even want the job.”

  “Well, I’m doing it, aren’t I?” Henry said. And to think not long ago he was scheming to get out of it.

  Mom didn’t say a word. This was one of her tricks. He would have to speak first.

  “What do you expect me to do? Live in the van?”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter and flipped through her bills. She didn’t care what happened to him.

  “Fine. I will. Can I park near here so I can use the bathroom once in a while, or should I go to the park with the other homeless people? I guess I can use paper towels to bathe in the restroom at work.”

  “You may stay here.”

  Henry sagged with relief. He wasn’t ready to be the guy who lived in his car.

  “Tonight. Like a house guest. Tomorrow you figure something out. That includes living in the van. You’re a grownup now, a fact you have reminded me of on numerous occasions.”

  He should be grateful but having a place to stay for one night wasn’t a big help. “How about until the weekend? I can’t apartment hunt while I’m at work.” He understood why she was doing it but it’s not like he wasn’t trying. He kept his anger hidden.

  “You need to be out of here next weekend,” she said.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Before you ‘thanks, Mom’ me, here are the rules. You go to that job every day. You tidy up everything. I don’t want to find even an eyelash in the sink. No guests. Exemplary consideration during any hours I might be sleeping.”

  “I got it,” Henry said. “You won’t know I’m here.”

  “I need you to remember you’re living with your mom, not a roommate. But that doesn’t include meal or laundry service.”

  He brought his stuff into the back yard and shook it out. Almost everything needed to be washed. Mom clarified she wouldn’t do the laundry for him but she didn’t mind if he ran the washer himself. There must have been a crumb of mom-ness left in her because she came out and helped him sort through it.

  “People are terrible,” she said. She shook the towels out over the lawn.

  Earlier, when he was desperate for her sympathy, he’d thought about telling her about the whoops and the slurs. But now he was glad he left that part out.

  He threw in the first load, then they worked together, sorting out the rest. A few things were torn or smeared with grease and needed to be tossed.

  “I have a bedspread in the linen closet you can take,” she said.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She made easy small talk, asking about the job and people he was working with. He told her about all his colleagues, mentioning Rayanne as part of the group. He told her about the meals program, making it sound like something the center did rather than Rayanne’s personal project.

  “Do they use volunteers?” Mom asked.

  “They love volunteers. Why?”

  “I’ve been thinking about getting involved in something. I don’t know what. A book group or volunteer at the food bank. Something to keep me from shriveling up here by myself.”

  He’d never heard her complain about being alone before. “Everything is upside down while we’re moving, but once we get to the new building there will be lots of community-type things you would like.”

  “That sounds nice. You’ll have to keep me informed. Good night.” She put an arm around his shoulder and kissed the side of his head before leaving him to work on his own.

  He took a load out of the dryer and folded the warm clothes, his thoughts drifting back to Rayanne. The way her skin tasted and the way her hands felt when she reached for him. The shocked noises she made and the sound of her voice in his ear when they were finished. She probably would have let him stay again if he’d asked. But he didn’t want to be the loser that mooched off her. He wanted to earn her.

  30

  Henry found Rayanne’s stack of elder services information on his side of the desk. Her side of the desk was piled with binders and dividers for whatever today’s project was.

  Henry sorted through the collection of pamphlets and printouts that listed what other tribal organizations were doing. There were programs for transportation, financial management a
nd family support, recreation, and elder rights advocates. He stopped to flip through a brochure on in-home helpers. The list went on and on. She had bright-colored sticky flags on grants and pilot projects. He restacked everything into a neat pile and set it aside.

  Rayanne arrived in a dark mood. He brought her a cup of coffee. There was sadness behind her eyes that he wanted to hug away. He settled for running his index finger along her arm until her look made him take his hand back.

  “Things didn’t go well with Grandpa?” he asked.

  “It was awful,” she said, an edge to her voice. “He yelled at me. He never yells at me.”

  “You two ever get like this before?”

  “Not like this, no,” Rayanne said. “He told me I can’t drop by anymore. I have to call first. Then he told me to leave.” A tear slipped out and she wiped it away. “I think it will blow over. You were right. I need to let him make these decisions. I hoped we could figure out something together. What if something bad happens? How will I know what to do?” She grabbed a tissue and blotted her eyes. “How about you? How did things go with your mom?”

  “Also poorly. First she said no. I keep joking about living in the van and, for a minute, I thought it was coming true. Mom is tough-loving me hard on this one. I convinced her to give me until next weekend to find a place. I have a bed a few more nights.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded if you showed up at my place,” Rayanne said into his ear.

  Henry could tell she meant it. “I don’t want us to be like that. Me, a desperate loser hanging out with so little to offer. You, having it all together and acting out of pity.”

  Rayanne tilted her face to him and leaned closer. “It’s not like I wouldn’t be taking it out in trade. But I appreciate what you’re saying.”

  A surge of warmth flooded an area he would rather stay calm while they were at the office. “We need to stay out of trouble,” he said.

  “That crow has flown the nest,” she said with a laugh. She spotted the elder materials. “Did you go through that? I’ve got some great leads for funding. Do you want to learn how to write a grant?”