St. Francis Society for Wayward Pets

by Annie England Noblin

  I nodded. “But that reminds me—I need to give her her medicine.”

  “Wanna give me the grand tour while you’re at it?” Holly asked.

  Eli stood up. “We brought doughnuts from Donut Dynasty,” he said. “I’ll run out and get them. Do you have coffee?”

  “Yep,” I said.

  “Good,” he said, and then glanced pointedly at the energy drink that was still sitting on the coffee table. “Because not all of us want to put that poison in our bodies.”

  I said, “Come on. Let me show you the place.”

  “It’s really cute,” Holly said, following me into the kitchen, where I made a big show of brewing the coffee. “It’s got a lot of charm.”

  “It does,” I said. “It really doesn’t need much work either, from what I can tell. Maybe some new furniture.”

  “Are you going to be here long enough for new furniture?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of like it here.”

  “You sound surprised,” Holly replied.

  “Aren’t you?” I asked. “I mean, I didn’t even want to come here to begin with, and now I’m thinking about staying.”

  “Christine would say that this place has ‘good vibes,’” Holly said. “I mean, you have a damn dog. It’s like you’ve already got a life here or something.”

  “The dog was an accident,” I said, but I grinned at her. “Speaking of Christine, how on earth did you get permission to be gone again?”

  “She took the kids to visit her mom in Arizona,” Holly replied. “For . . . an indeterminable amount of time.”

  “What?” I turned my attention away from the coffee machine to my best friend. “What do you mean?”

  Holly let out a sigh. “You know we’ve been going to couples counseling, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, the therapist suggested we take some time apart.”

  “And she took the kids?”

  “Just for three weeks,” Holly replied. Her tone was light, but she sounded miserable. “My mom is flying in from Illinois to stay with me when they get back.”

  “Holls, I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching out to hug her again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should have been. I got so wrapped up in my own junk, I haven’t been a very good friend.”

  “It’s okay,” Holly replied.

  “Did you tell Eli?” I asked.

  Holly nodded. “I think I’d spilled my guts before we even hit the interstate.” She leaned in closer to me and continued, “Did you know he and Kate went to counseling after Rowan was born?”

  “My mom told me,” I said. “I think it was hard for Kate to give up her marketing career to stay home. At least, that’s what I gathered from Eli.”

  “That’s what he told me too,” Holly replied. “I think that’s true for Christine too, even though she still works part-time.”

  “Is that what the therapist thinks?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Holly said. “I mean, Dr. Gillam diagnosed her with postpartum depression, even though the twins are nearly two years old. I feel like the worst wife in the world for not noticing it.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “It’s not always obvious, and remember, you’re doing something about it now, before it’s too late.”

  “I think we’re going to be able to work it out,” Holly said. “But it’s just so hard, you know? I didn’t know it was going to be so hard.”

  “Raising kids?”

  “Being an adult.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, I feel like we were really misled on that one.”

  We spent the rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon carrying in boxes and unpacking them. Eli had been right—I did have a lot of stuff. My mother, true to her word, packed nearly everything I’d brought to her house from my apartment. She even bought me toiletry items and packed them in a separate box. I guess she figured I wouldn’t have them, and with the exception of toothpaste and deodorant, she was right. I’d been using shampoo and hairspray that I’d found in Annabelle’s bathroom. I meant to go out and buy my own, but I kept getting distracted.

  I’d been heartened to see Holly and Eli, and I found myself wishing they would stay more than just the day. I knew they both had lives to get back to in Seattle, but it was comforting seeing their friendly faces. They were part of my life I could explain—part of a history I knew—and it hadn’t occurred to me until recently how important that was. I had a lot of unanswered questions about a life I’d never lived and a mother I’d never met.

  I was absently folding sweaters and putting them into the cedar chest in the spare bedroom when I heard raised voices coming from outside. One of them was Eli’s. I wandered out into the living room, where Holly was sitting on the couch, pretending to be busy opening up a box full of my underwear.

  “What’s going on out there?” I asked. “Who is Eli talking to?”

  Holly shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She stood up and followed me to the door. Eli was on the steps of Beryl’s house, arms crossed over his chest, as Beryl pointed to where we stood.

  “Who is that woman?” Holly asked. “She looks like a trucker. I haven’t seen a mullet like that since you and I went to watch an eighties cover band five years ago.”

  I didn’t want to laugh at what Holly said, but I couldn’t help it. Beryl did look like she and Axl Rose could be related. “What do you think Eli is saying to her?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Holly replied. “But I doubt it’s good.”

  I sighed and walked across the street.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Is everything all right?”

  “Absolutely not,” Beryl said to me. “I swear, child, this street was quiet before you moved in.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Eli replied. “I don’t know what you’re going on about. Our truck hasn’t done anything to your precious flowers.”

  “First it was that cat,” Beryl continued. “Now it’s that vehicle with those noxious fumes.”

  “Sherbet isn’t hurting your garden,” I said. “You haven’t been able to catch him on camera, have you?”

  “That doesn’t mean he ain’t destroyed them,” Beryl said.

  “Well, it does mean you don’t have any proof,” I replied.

  “I know what I know,” Beryl said.

  Eli threw up his arms and glanced over at me. “I swear, I was just coming out here to get the last load of boxes, and she accosted me.”

  “Oh, big fancy words from your boyfriend here,” Beryl said, rolling her eyes.

  “He’s my brother,” I replied. “Are we done here?”

  “I’ll be sending you a bill,” Beryl called after us. “Don’t think this is over!”

  “Are you sure you want to live here?” Eli asked, glancing back at Beryl, who was still glaring at us. “That woman is absolutely ridiculous.”

  “Oh, I think she’s harmless,” I said. “Her beef is mostly with Sherbet anyway.”

  “Your cat?”

  “He’s been a bone of contention since I got here.”

  “I hope all your neighbors aren’t like that,” he said.

  “I haven’t met them all,” I confessed. “But I doubt there is anyone else in all of Washington like Beryl.”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  “What’s left in the back of the truck?” I asked.

  “Heavy lamps,” Eli replied. “And a couple of boxes.”

  “I forgot about the lamps!” I exclaimed. “I love those things.”

  “Heavy lamps,” Eli corrected me. “Where did you get wrought iron bases?”

  “Remember I used to date that guy who dabbled in being a blacksmith and went to Renaissance fairs?”

  “How could I forget?” Eli asked. “He offered to make me chain mail as a wedding present.”

  “He made them.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “Hey,” I said. “It was the least he could do. Especially after he stole all m
y bedsheets.”

  “I remember that guy,” Holly said. “He was a real winner.”

  “Let’s just focus on the task at hand,” I replied.

  “You mean like Abel Abbott?” Holly asked, a sly grin on her face. “Is he the new task at hand?”

  Eli stopped chewing and stared at the two of us. “Abel Abbott the writer?”

  “I meant to tell you,” I said. “He’s basically my neighbor.”

  “Do you know him?” Eli asked.

  “A little bit,” I admitted.

  “Can I meet him?”

  “No,” I said. “You can’t meet him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that would be weird,” I replied. “I can’t just walk you down to his house and knock on his door.”

  “Fine,” Eli replied with a sigh. “But if we see him out and about, will you introduce me?”

  “Sure,” I replied. “If we happen to see Abel Abbott out and about, in my house, I will absolutely introduce you.”

  “I’m starving,” Holly said, breaking in. “Those doughnuts didn’t hold me at all. Can we go eat at that place . . . oh, what’s it called? The one with the burgers?”

  “Three Sheets?” I asked. “Sure, let’s just get the lamps in and the last couple of boxes unpacked, okay?”

  Holly sighed. “Fiiiiine.”

  “Where do you want the last of the boxes?” Eli asked.

  “I guess just leave them here in the living room,” I said. “I don’t guess we have to unpack them now. I’m running out of room in the spare bedroom.”

  “What about the master?” Holly asked. “We can put the lamps and boxes in there until you find a place for them.”

  “That’s Annabelle’s room,” I said without thinking.

  Holly put her arm on mine and said, “I’m not trying to be uncaring, Mae, but it’s not anymore.”

  “I know,” I replied. “You’re right. Go ahead—just set the stuff in there. Just don’t mess with any of the knitting stuff.”

  Eli and I picked up one of the heaviest lamps and carried it up the porch steps and through the house into the back bedroom. Holly opened the door and directed us inside, and we set it down next to the bedside table.

  “Wow,” Holly said, looking around the room. “There’s a lot of yarn in here.”

  “Yeah, I think Annabelle was some kind of master knitter or something,” I replied. “She was in a club with a bunch of other women. They make clothes for animals.”

  “Christine is in a knitting club!” Holly said. “But she says all they do is drink wine and talk bad about their spouses.”

  “That sounds like my kind of club,” I replied. “I’m trying to learn how to knit, but I’m not very good at it yet.”

  Holly sighed wistfully, and I knew she was thinking about Christine. I felt bad that I didn’t have any relationship advice to offer her. I’d always thought of her and Christine like I did Eli and Kate or my parents—examples of what people did right in their lives. It wasn’t that I necessarily wanted to be married and have a carload of kids, but I figured having that meant you were some special level of adult that I hadn’t yet unlocked. More and more, I was realizing that really wasn’t the case.

  It was both scary and a relief to know that every person, every relationship, had cracks. Deep down, I’d thought maybe my cracks were too deep or, worse, I’d been born that way and the mother I’d been born to could see them even then and that’s why she hadn’t wanted me. The rational side of me knew this wasn’t true, but I couldn’t help longing for someone else with the same cracks so that at least I was part of a matching set. Now that Annabelle was gone, what if I never found that?

  Lost in my thoughts, I let go of the lamp base without realizing that Eli and I had set it down on a rogue ball of yarn. The lamp wobbled, and before any of us could catch it, it fell backward onto the table by the bed, knocking everything off in the process, including the framed picture of Annabelle and her parents.

  The picture tumbled to the floor and the glass in the frame shattered near my feet. Once we’d steadied the lamp, I bent down to pick up the pieces.

  “I’m so sorry, Mae,” Eli said.

  “It’s okay,” I said, stacking the large chunks of glass on top of each other in my hand. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I think I saw a broom behind the trash can in the kitchen,” Holly said. “I’ll run and get it.”

  Eli bent down to help me, picking up the frame and removing the shards of glass that were still stuck to it. “Hey,” he said. “There’s another picture behind the first one.”

  “What?” I took the frame from his outstretched hand.

  Stuck to the back of the first picture was another. It was slightly sticky and a little faded, but it was clear enough that I could see Annabelle—older than she had been in the picture with her parents—standing hand in hand with a man, both of them smiling into the sun. I turned the picture over, but all that was written on the back was “June 1984.”

  “Do you know who they are?” Eli asked, peering over my shoulder.

  “It’s Annabelle,” I said. “I don’t know who the guy is.”

  Eli squinted at the picture. “And what does the back say?”

  “June 1984.”

  “That’s, what? Nearly nine months before you were born in 1985?”

  I nodded. The man looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I’d seen so many new faces over the last few days. I racked my brain trying to put his young, unlined face up to one of the older ones I’d seen at the funeral, but none of them matched. “I don’t know him,” I said.

  “Do you think he could be—?”

  “I don’t know,” I said quickly. I slid the pictures and frame back up on the table, careful to put the picture of Annabelle and the man underneath the one of her and her parents. “Don’t say anything to Holly. She won’t shut up about it if she knows.”

  Eli nodded. “Got it,” he said.

  Holly swept up the smaller shards of glass that were left on the floor, and then we carried in the other lamp, careful to set it down far away from anything that might break.

  “I think that’s everything,” Holly said, dusting her hands off on her jeans. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

  “Where is this place?” Eli asked. “What’s it called?”

  “It’s just down the road a ways,” I replied. “It’s called Three Sheets. I guess technically, it’s a bar, but they’ve got great burgers.”

  “Works for me,” Eli said. “You want to drive?”

  “Well,” I started, skipping ahead of them and into the hallway bathroom to look in the mirror. “My car isn’t exactly running right now.”

  “What?” Eli and Holly said in unison.

  “I’m not sure what’s wrong with it,” I continued. “And that VW Beetle you saw has expired tags. So . . . maybe you should drive, Eli.”

  “I’m not going to mention this to Mom and Dad,” Eli replied.

  “I’ll get it fixed,” I said noncommittally.

  “Like you fixed your last car?”

  “That was different,” I replied. I came out of the bathroom with my hair tied up in a loose ponytail. I looked a little worse for wear, but not so bad that I couldn’t be seen out in public. “That car got towed by the city of Seattle for being a piece of junk.”

  “No,” Eli said. “It got towed because it had hundreds of dollars’ worth of fines and was parked in a tow zone.”

  “Same thing,” I replied. “Anyway, can you drive?”

  Annabelle

  June 1984

  ANNABELLE WATCHED BILLY STUMBLE TOWARD THE door, his feet scarcely connecting with the ground long enough for him to walk.

  “He must be out of his head coming here,” Alice whispered. “When Dad sees him, he’s going to flip.”

  “He’s clearly out of his head,” Annabelle replied, unlocking the door as quietly as she could and slipping outside.

  “Anna!” Bill
y exclaimed, opening up his arms wide to embrace her. “I missed you. Come here.”

  “No,” Annabelle said, stepping away from his outstretched arms. “Billy, you need to get out of here. When your dad sees you—”

  “Fuck my dad,” Billy said, his eyes rolling dangerously to the back of his head. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Annabelle backed up again, until her foot caught the edge of the step, and she came crashing down with a thud. Alice came outside. Anger filled her face, and she shoved Billy back from the both of them.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” Alice demanded. “Are you trying to get us all in trouble?”

  Billy didn’t respond. He just stood there, swaying back and forth, staring at Annabelle.

  Finally, Annabelle couldn’t take it any longer, and she stood up and went to him, taking his hand in hers. “Billy, you’ve got to get it together,” she said.

  “Come with me,” Billy replied, his voice hoarse. “Please.”

  “And go where?” Annabelle asked. “You don’t have anywhere to go. You don’t have anywhere to live.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “No,” Annabelle said. “You’ve got to get clean. You’ve got to get a job. You’ve got to find a place to live.” She reached out and took his other hand and placed it firmly on her stomach.

  Billy’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late. William came rushing out of the house, pushing past Alice and finally Annabelle to grab Billy by the collar of his shirt and throw him back onto the gravel driveway. It was a surprising feat for a man who looked as withered and old as William, but his anger was stronger than anything Annabelle had ever seen before.

  Billy scrambled up, his eyes wild. He doubled up his fists as if he might fight back, but when he looked over at Annabelle, it was clear all the fight had gone out of him. “Please,” he mouthed to her.

  Annabelle wanted to go to him. That was all she wanted. She loved him, and she wanted to pretend that everything was going to be okay as long as they were together, but deep down, she knew better. She couldn’t leave. She was trapped, and she knew it. Billy needed rehab, and she needed a place to live until she could figure out what to do about the life growing inside her. What she’d managed to save working at the factory wouldn’t be enough to get them a place, and it wouldn’t be long before she would start to show. She knew she’d be fired from her job when that happened.