Broken Homes & Gardens

by Rebecca Kelley

  9

  the jade plant needed competition

  Joanna began to resent the jade plant Malcolm had given her for her birthday last January. New, tender leaves kept popping from its branches. It expanded in all directions. She had to drag the heavy pot a few inches from the wall because it had started looking cramped. Its branches twisted and twirled, reached for the light, as if they were on stage, dancing.

  “Cool plant,” Allison said upon entering Joanna’s apartment. When Allison approached it, the plant looked even bigger—it was wider than she was and almost as tall.

  “I hate that thing,” Joanna said. Sure, she kept it on its ten-day watering cycle, fed it special succulent fertilizer, and dusted off its leaves until they shone like emeralds. But she detested these small chores. While Joanna was barely keeping it together, trudging around town to teach beginning-level English classes, making a cup of tea on the dented electric burner in the efficiency kitchen, and falling asleep on her cold, hard bed, that plant was flourishing.

  The only thing keeping Joanna going was the fact that she was moving to her new house at the end of June. She’d done some research and discovered that—on paper anyway—it looked like she made a decent salary. Five classes added up. Right away she figured out that buying a house by herself was an exercise in lowering expectations. She had at first envisioned herself in one of the darling Craftsman bungalows around Hawthorne Boulevard. But she could barely afford to buy a house within Portland city limits, let alone a bungalow in the Hawthorne district. After looking at a 400-square-foot “rustic cabin” and a few bank-owned houses—one of which appeared to have a small animal decomposing on the carpet—she was about to give up.

  She finally placed an offer on an old house with a big, open backyard surrounded by a chain-link fence after looking it over for less than ten minutes. If she wanted to plant a garden, she needed to act fast. So what if the yard was really just a field of mowed-down weeds? She was going to rip everything out, start from scratch. As soon as she had the keys, she’d go straight to the backyard and put in a vegetable garden, some decorative grasses, sunflowers, dahlias, fruit trees, raspberry bushes, bamboo—anything, everything! The jade plant needed competition.

  Allison had come over to grade papers. They did this sometimes, though working with Allison made Joanna insecure about her own teaching skills. Allison always arrived with color-coded folders and an assortment of pens suitable for marking up papers. She zipped through four papers while Joanna still mulled over one, struggling to figure out what to say, attempting that perfect blend of encouragement and criticism.

  Allison, it turned out, had been very busy lately. “I’ve been dating,” she said, recording a grade down in her notebook.

  “Dating, huh? As in, multiple guys?”

  A large smile lit up Allison’s tiny face. “Yes. I went out on three dates last weekend. This is a record for me. My last date before that was—well, I guess it was that one with Malcolm. If that counts as a date.”

  “Why wouldn’t it count?” Joanna felt herself turning red. She looked down, shuffled through some papers. She had tried—but never managed—to tell Allison about her own dalliance with Malcolm.

  Allison shrugged. “Malcolm’s cool. But you were right. Not my type.”

  “So how are you finding all of these eligible young bachelors?”

  “Online. I signed up last week. I got like fifteen messages within twenty-four hours of posting my profile.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. It slows down after that. It’s just, when you first get on there, you’re like fresh meat.”

  “Sounds delightful.”

  “Well, it beats sitting around waiting for someone to show up. After college, how do you even meet people? Everyone has a boyfriend or a girlfriend already—or they start marrying off. I’m almost thirty. How else am I going to find these guys?”

  Joanna had heard all of these arguments before. Everyone making lists of what they do and don’t want in a future mate—then matching those lists up with other people’s lists. It was like applying for a job that required endless interviews. “I always pictured you crashing into an African lit expert in a library. But you know, the Internet is just as romantic.”

  Allison laughed. “But I need to keep myself busy while I’m waiting around for that guy, right? That’s the point: there’s always someone else. You know when you used to just stick with the same old guy for months, just because you thought you needed to give him a chance? Because there was no one better around? You don’t need to do that anymore.”

  “Oh. Well, good.”

  “You should do it too, Joanna. Seriously.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Come on. Why not? You could meet the man you are going to marry. Think about it: somewhere out there is the perfect guy for you—but there is no way you’ll meet him otherwise. You run in different circles. Live in different parts of town. Go to different—”

  “I thought the point was to date as many guys as possible.”

  “The point is not to waste time with the wrong guy so that you can find the right guy. Anyway, have you got any better ideas? You should get out there. It’ll be good for you.” And so, Allison talked Joanna into developing an online profile. “Okay, so describe yourself,” Allison said. She was sprawled out on the bed with Joanna’s laptop, ready to take dictation. She had already culled through Joanna’s photos and uploaded the most fetching ones to dazzle potential suitors.

  Joanna sat in her upholstered chair and frowned at the jade plant, which seemed to be reaching for her. She brushed it off, snapping a leaf in the process. Serves you right, she thought. “Well,” she answered. “How would I describe myself? I’m a nihilist. And a misanthrope. I don’t get along with anyone at all.” She would just never activate the account. Allison would go home, bug her about it for a few weeks, and then give up.

  “Misanthrope pretty much says it all,” said her friend, tapping on the keyboard.

  “What did you write?”

  “Just that you have a sarcastic sense of humor. Okay, how do you prefer to get around? Bike, walk, bus?”

  “That’s a question on there?”

  “Just a bunch of random things. Here—I think I know the answer to most of these.” Allison spent a few minutes clicking around.

  “You know, I don’t even want a boyfriend right now,” Joanna said.

  Allison pointed to the computer screen. “Not a problem. You will be a dream come true for these guys.”

  She made Allison save the profile without posting it. “I want to look it over first,” she said.

  Allison frowned. “What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m afraid of breaking hearts left and right. I can’t have that hanging over my head.”

  “Very funny. Think of it this way: online dating is about taking control. Not leaving everything up to chance. It’s liberating.”

  “I’m kind of busy right now,” Joanna said, and Allison rolled her eyes. “We still need to wrap up the semester.”

  Essays were pored over and marked, the grades were in the mail. She could wipe her hands clean of the last term and enjoy the first party of the season. She had always envied people with late spring or summer birthdays. The lawns were all lush and green from the early spring rains. Bright red poppies, bigger than baby heads, flanked the walkway up to Ted and Laura’s house.

  Before Joanna could reach the door, Laura popped out, shutting the front door behind her. “Joanna,” she said, “I’ve got to tell you something. Hey—you look nice. And we said no presents!”

  Joanna had worn a dress for the occasion. Her hair, brushed smooth, fell down past her shoulders—an impossible feat when it was raining, as her hair frizzed into a tangled halo around her head. “This is just a joke,” she said, holding the wrapped box up.

  Her sister didn’t appear to be listening. She kept looking back at the house like a character in a horror movie, waiting for a ghost to flutter out
from the edges of the closed door. “Seriously, Joanna—”

  “What?”

  “Malcolm’s here.”

  Joanna paused. “He’s back?” She shook her head. “Well, that makes sense. It’s Ted’s party.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Laura!” Three women clomped up the stairs to the porch. Joanna recognized them as teachers from Laura’s school. They chattered all at once, overflowing with energy now that school was out and three whole months of summer loomed ahead of them. Joanna made her way to the door, ignoring Laura’s silent pleading.

  She wove through crowds of people, looking for somewhere to set down the present. How did Ted and Laura have so many friends? There must be twenty people standing around, snacking on sushi and salad rolls, and the party had just begun.

  Then she saw Malcolm, standing in the kitchen. He looked different. For one thing, his hair was shorter. Instead of hanging down over his eyes, it was sticking out in every direction. And he was wearing a narrow, red plaid shirt with pearlescent snaps. The kind cowboys wear—or the kind of thing you put on to indicate a well-developed sense of irony and nostalgia. He never used to wear shirts like that.

  It had been over a month since she had last seen him, glowering at her in his apartment. A week later, he’d left her a message on her phone. He’d found some contracting work in Alaska. He didn’t know when he’d be back. Her sister had tried to talk Joanna into calling Malcolm and sorting it all out—she was convinced it was all some terrible mix-up, a misunderstanding. Laura had a point. But the thing was, she didn’t want to call him and ask him what was going on; she didn’t want to hear his answer.

  She had gone over and over her night with him, trying to pinpoint where it had gone wrong. He had kissed her; she was sure of that. And later, lying beneath him, her hands on his back, the way he looked at her unnerved her so much that she had snapped her eyes shut, hid her face in his neck. But this was what she kept returning to: it wasn’t all just a mistake, a ditch they’d stumbled into. Afterwards, lying next to each other in the dark, he had stroked her arm. He smelled good, like clean skin. Holy shit, Joanna, he had said. At the time she thought he was marveling at what had just happened, that he felt exactly the same way she did. Now she wondered if he had meant something else entirely.

  Malcolm looked up. They locked eyes for a fraction of a second, and then he turned around. Someone had called his name. A beautiful, tall, slender girl sidled next to him, put her arms around his waist. She smiled up at him, her shiny dark hair cascading down her back.

  Joanna was rooted to the floor, clutching Ted’s birthday present. She wanted to drop the box and run, but she couldn’t move. “Hey, you made it!” Ted said.

  She smiled hugely and shoved the present at him. “You can open it later. It’s just a joke.” Ted was wearing a blue plaid shirt similar to Malcolm’s. And they both had on boots. Had she somehow missed a cowboy theme? Laura had been wearing jeans and a sheer cotton top that hadn’t struck Joanna as particularly country and western. She scanned the room. No one else had arrived in cowboy hats, chaps, or Wranglers.

  “Did you meet Nina?” Ted asked Joanna, pulling her towards Malcolm and the girl hanging all over him.

  Laura materialized at Joanna’s side and stood right next to her so their arms were touching. “I need some help with … uh, the drinks,” Laura announced.

  “They met in Alaska,” Ted said with a laugh. “Can you believe that?”

  Laura nudged Joanna. They didn’t look at each other, but she understood the gesture. She knew she was supposed to introduce herself to Nina, who was smiling at her. “Hi,” was all she managed.

  “You must be Joanna.” Nina’s lip gloss sparkled.

  Malcolm wasn’t saying anything, but he was trying to catch Joanna’s eye. She kept her gaze on Nina, ignoring him. “So … you’re from Alaska?”

  “I live here. It was the funniest coincidence….” Nina still had her arms around Malcolm, and she squeezed him closer. She was obviously about to embark on the wonderful, romantic story about how she wooed Malcolm in some igloo out on the frozen tundra. Joanna didn’t want to hear it. She stepped on Laura’s toe, gently.

  “Sorry,” Laura said. “I really need my sister’s help with something.”

  “No wait, you’ve got to hear this!” Ted was saying as Laura led Joanna by the hand, away from the happy couple.

  The sisters huddled in the corner by the bookshelves. “Thanks for not telling Ted about me and Malcolm,” Joanna said.

  “I promised I wouldn’t.”

  Joanna tilted her head toward the kitchen. “So she’s his girlfriend, I take it? That was quick!”

  “I know.” There was real heartache in Laura’s voice. She was taking this worse than Joanna.

  “I guess I should have expected something like this.”

  “What? He goes to Alaska for three weeks or whatever it was and comes back with a girlfriend?” Laura shook her head in disgust.

  “How did they even meet anyway?”

  “I don’t know. I think she’s a geologist or something. She was up there the same time he was and they met in a bar. Then they found out they both live in Portland.”

  “A geologist?”

  “It’s so obvious why he went for her.”

  Joanna laughed. “Why, because of that body?”

  “Because she looks exactly like you! Who else is tall, thin, with long dark brown hair … ring any bells?”

  “She’s wearing a cargo skirt.”

  “You could be sisters,” Laura said.

  “No thanks.” She smiled at her pale blonde sister. Laura smiled back.

  Joanna sighed. “This seems to be happening to me a lot lately.”

  Laura shook her head sadly.

  “Allison wants me to do online dating,” Joanna said.

  “You should!” Laura clapped her hands in excitement. “That’s how I met Ted!”

  “I know.”

  On that positive note, Joanna sent Laura off to “enjoy Ted’s party.” Joanna promised to stuff her face with sushi and start mingling. Who knew? Maybe Ted had some other charming friend she could meet and make out with. This seemed to satisfy Laura, who left Joanna alone by the bookshelves.

  Two pounds of sushi and three vodka tonics later, she was waiting in the hall for her turn at the upstairs bathroom when she heard his voice. “Joanna.” She turned to find Malcolm peering down at her, his eyes dark and serious. She didn’t even bother answering him. She turned her head towards the bathroom door and willed whoever was in there to come out. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  She was horrified to feel tears welling up in her eyes. Her nose tingled. If he said even one more word, she would break into uncontrollable sobs. She took a slow, deep breath. The tingling subsided. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just shook her head. She tapped her foot against the floor. Maybe someone had gone into the bathroom and passed out. Certainly she’d been standing there for an hour, at least.

  “Come on,” Malcolm said. He took her by the arm and led her down the hall into Ted and Laura’s bedroom. It was quiet in there, peaceful. Laura had painted it sky blue. Everything matched, everything was orderly and in its place. A breeze was blowing the sheer white curtains out into the room. They billowed out, then shrunk back in, like they were sighing. He shut the door and leaned against it, so she couldn’t get back out. He was still hanging on to her arm. “I want to explain,” he said.

  “There’s no need to explain. I’m pretty sure I get it.” She reached for the doorknob but he blocked it. “Let go of me.”

  “Look, I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” She, for one, was not sorry, no matter what trouble it ended up causing them. If only it had been awful, if they’d stumbled around together, maybe they both could have laughed it off and proceeded as normal.

  His voice was quiet. “I fucked everything up. I know that.”

  “You went to Alaska. I had to hear that from my
sister. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough …” She let that sentence dangle. She didn’t want to fill in the blank. You brought back a girlfriend. That was really the most unbelievable part of all. How did he manage to find a girlfriend—in Alaska of all places—in a matter of weeks? She tried to push him out of her way. “Let me out.”

  He wore a sad, droopy-eyed expression, but he stepped aside. She burst back into the hall. The bathroom door was open, finally. She locked herself in, sat down on the edge of the bathtub, and took ten deep breaths. Then, without saying goodbye to anyone, she left the party.

  When she got home she was greeted by the monstrous jade plant. She wanted to open the window and push it out, where it would land on the rooftop below with a satisfying thud, its branches breaking off, dirt spewing everywhere.

  But of course she didn’t do that. It was too heavy to lift. And anyway, it was just a plant.

  10

  they made pioneering seem so easy

  It would be a lot easier to get over Malcolm if he weren’t always hanging around. At the end of June, Joanna finally got the keys to her new house. Ted, Laura, and Malcolm all arrived to help her move. As they drove from southeast to northeast Portland in a borrowed pickup, Joanna looked back and saw her jade plant waving in the wind. The huge ceramic pot teetered whenever they turned a corner, dirt sifting out onto her boxes. Soon the whole scaly brown trunk would snap and the top of the plant would take flight, land on the street, get trampled under the wheels of passing cars. Joanna knew it, she had a sixth sense about it—she was experiencing a rare moment of prescience.