“Indeed! Interesting and exciting.” Dr. Liu opened her eyes wide and leaned forward, her entire face rapt and a little predatory. Helen could almost see the thousands of questions spinning in Dr. Liu’s brain and her plans to find the answers.
It made Helen a little nervous. “Usually, I like a little less excitement in my life. Women my age are supposed to be slowing down, you know.” She laughed, hoping Dr. Liu would appreciate that self-deprecating sort of wit.
“Slowing down? We are just getting started!” There was a fervor in Dr. Liu’s eyes. She stood, pacing with her cup of tea, sloshing it as she gestured. “I get so tired of hearing that. Like a woman has a shelf life that ends when she is too old to make babies. Babies. Nasty little parasites. We can create so much that is more wonderful than babies. My best work is yet to come.”
Helen stared at the other woman. She had a point. Sometimes, Helen felt like she had spent her whole life waitign to be “old enough” and then had crossed over into “too old” without finding out what it was she had been waiting for. It was only now, with the tingle of fire still on her fingertips and the smell of sulphur on her skin, that she felt she knew what she wanted. “Of course, but I think I’m a little older than you.”
Dr. Liu arched an eyebrow. “I’m sixty-seven.”
“Sixty-seven? You’ve got to be kidding.” Helen peered into the doctor’s face, disbelieving. There was hardly a line on her face. Helen rubbed at her own cheek, thinking about the lines that had collected around her eyes and mouth. “Plastic surgery?” she asked.
Dr. Liu shook her head and then smiled slowly. “Ancient Chinese secret.”
Helen spit her tea out in a burst of laughter. The woman did have a sense of humor after all. Helen grinned and wiped her face on the charred and holey remnant of her sleeve. Dr. Liu didn’t laugh aloud, but amusement was clear on her face. She poured another cup of tea for them both. It had been a long time since Helen had felt like someone “got” her. She raised her cup in a salute. “I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” she quipped.
essica arrived at her mother’s house at the agreed upon pick-up time. The drive over had been uneventful, though she felt a rising sense of panic standing on the stoop. Even with the weights on, she couldn’t help but imagine herself spiraling off into the sky and disappearing into the clouds above, never to be seen again.
She rang the doorbell and listened but didn’t hear the expected stampede of her boys running to the door. That was strange. Had they gone out? She rang the doorbell again. This time, she heard quick steps clicking in the hall. The door opened, and Jessica was surprised to see Cindy Liu on the other side of it. “Oh, Hello, Ms. Liu. I’m here to pick up the boys.”
Cindy opened the door wider, inviting Jessica in, her gaze sweeping over her like a laser. Jessica smoothed down her long tunic top and patted the neckline, wondering what about her had invited such scrutiny.
Ms. Liu said, “Your mother had to run to the store, and the boys went with her. They’ll be back in a few minutes. Come, sit down. I’ll make you a cup of tea, and we can have a little chat.”
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Jessica pushed down her impatience. She didn’t feel like chatting with her mother’s old friend. She hadn’t decided what to tell her own mother yet, and definitely wasn’t interested in a heart to heart with Ms. Liu. She just wanted to pick up her boys and get back under the safety of her own roof.
But the boys weren’t there, and there was no need to be rude. Ms. Liu had always been kind to her, in her own way. Jessica had often felt uncomfortable around her, but she figured that was just culture clash. It was important not to assume ill intent just because someone did things differently than you would, she reminded herself, echoing her mother’s careful training in social etiquette.
“I just brought your mother some more of my special ginseng blend. Have you been enjoying it?” Ms. Liu seemed especially solicitous, and Jessica felt guilty for not wanting to visit with her.
“It smells wonderful. I’ve been drinking it like crazy. I’ll probably need to get a new tin from you soon.” Ms. Liu looked pleased at the praise for her tea and disappeared around the corner.
Jessica marveled again at how young Ms. Liu appeared. She knew she had to be at least sixty-five, like her mother, but if anything, she seemed to look a little younger than she had when Jessica had last seen her just a few days earlier at the hospital. She certainly moved like a younger woman. There really must be something to the herbal remedies she concocts, she thought.
Jessica sat at the table, staring at her reflection in the polished top. She wasn’t pleased with what she saw. The woman in the reflection looked tired, and a little sad. She smoothed some stray hairs back into her stubby ponytail. Jessica missed her long hair. It seemed like a petty concern to someone who had survived cancer, but she had always been proud of her hair. She was grateful it was growing back but impatient for it to be long again and disappointed the hair was darker than it once was. She supposed she could go to the beauty shop and buy any color she liked, but she had liked being a natural blonde.
Feeling pensive, Jessica stood up and paced around the dining room, examining the artwork. Jessica’s mother was always changing what was on the walls. The new display was Chinese characters, done in broad calligraphy strokes, simple black on white in red frames. They were displayed in a line.
Ms. Liu reappeared with the stonework tea set a few minutes later. “That one says Qi,” she said. “Breath.” She set the tray on a table and began arranging the cups and saucers. “The others are xue, jing, shen and jin-ye. Blood, Essence, Spirit, and, um, Fluids. They are the basics of Chinese medicine.”
“Beautiful. Does my mother know what they mean?”
Ms. Liu laughed. Her laugh was surprisingly brash in such a small person, almost a bray. The sound of it made Jessica smile. “Probably not,” Ms. Liu said. “She probably just likes the calligraphy.”
“It is beautiful. Makes you sad that English doesn’t use more art in the formation of its letters. It’s like, why choose such dull script when you could have dancing figures to represent your words.”
Ms. Liu nodded. “There is an efficiency to the English alphabet I enjoy, but, yes, it does lack artistry.”
Jessica sat at the table and poured herself and Ms. Liu some tea from the small pot. Her cup already had some clear liquid in the bottom, but it was probably just water. Jessica raised her cup to her chin and inhaled. “The best part of this tea is the aroma,” she said. Then she took a sip. “Or maybe the taste.” Almost as soon as she sipped the tea, Jessica felt more relaxed. Even more so than usual.
“There’s also the way it makes you feel. Lighter. Free. It’s different for you, isn’t it?” Ms. Liu seemed to be watching Jessica closely. It made her a little self-conscious, but she shrugged it off. After all, this woman had known her since she was a child. She was just curious.
“How is your husband, by the way? Is he recovered from his accident?”
Jessica looked up sharply. There was something in the way Ms. Liu had said “accident” that rankled her. It was somehow accusatory. It had, after all, been an accident, if a bizarre one.
“He’s fine. He had a concussion, but there’s been no problem in his recovery.”
“How did he get hurt again?” Ms. Liu wasn’t looking at Jessica now, but somehow, her attention seemed all the more focused for the lack of eye contact. “Your boys said you fell on him from the ceiling.”
Jessica looked down at her tea, surprised by how strongly she wanted to tell Dr. Liu everything. “I don’t think you’d believe me. I mean, I hardly believe it myself.”
Cindy Liu reached across the table and touched Jessica’s hand. “You might be surprised what I can believe. Try me.”
avid parked the truck and picked up the clipboard he had wedged into the dashboard to check the address. Linda stretched in the seat next to him and then ran her sweaty hands down the thighs of her jeans, both to d
ry them off and to pull the jeans away from her pelotas. She looked out the window at the house. It was easily double the size of the house she and David had raised their family in. It was beautiful but also cold. Carefully trimmed shrubberies flanked the small porch. The same kind, Linda noted, that grew next to every porch on the block. No flowers at all. No children’s riding toys littering the lawn. It was perfect. She didn’t like it.
She was playing it cool, or trying to, but really Linda was fluttering with excitement inside. When David had come by to check on her last night, he had stayed longer, and they had begun to talk the way they used to—him telling her little stories about his coworkers, his day, and his life in his hours away from her. He had told her about the trouble his boss, Randy, was in for installing inferior chandeliers in the homes David had helped build two years ago. David had shaken his head. He had often said Randy was cutting corners to make a dollar, and it was going to come back to haunt him. Apparently, some lady’s chandelier had fallen in a freak accident, and she’d discovered the “crystal” chandelier featured jewels made of polished plastic.
So, he was being sent out to install a new chandelier really made of crystal, free of charge. Randy wanted David to handle it because David did good work and was known for being good at soothing angry customers. Linda had seen it with their daughters. There was just something in his demeanor that made a woman feel listened to and understood. And really, if a woman feels listened to, half the battle is already won.
David was worried, though, because it was a two-man job for safety, and Jorge, Linda’s brother and David’s usual partner for such things, was in the hospital and would not be able to help. He wasn’t sure whom to call on. He felt that most of the other men in the crew were lazy or unreliable or both.
“These young men…” David left his judgment unspoken, but somehow, still quite clear to Linda.
“I could help you, David,” Linda had offered. “I am really quite strong now, you know.” She had rested her hand on top of his and was pleased he didn’t flinch or tug away. She had wished he would turn his palm up and squeeze her fingers lovingly, but allowing her touch was a good start.
Linda hadn’t told David about the piano, but she had told him about moving the dryer. She had stood and taken their dishes to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to remind him, “You can rely on me.”
Linda hadn’t expected David to accept her offer, but she didn’t give him a chance to back out once he had. She had been sitting in the living room waiting when he arrived in the morning, dressed for work in a plaid work shirt, jeans, and work boots, and holding two travel mugs filled with steaming coffee with milk.
She didn’t tell him, but there was asado de bodas in the refrigerator. The stew had always been one of his favorites. She was hoping they might end this job with a quiet lunch together at the table.
And now, here they were, riding together in the little blue truck. She was going to spend the day with her David, working. She had never been able to watch his work and was excited about this new view into the other parts of his life.
David replaced the clipboard on the dashboard and turned slightly in his seat to smile at Linda. She sipped her coffee without breaking his gaze. He was still such a handsome man. She could see the boy she had married in his face, but liked the man he had become even more. He had a round face that became even rounder when he smiled. His eyes were so dark it was difficult to tell where his pupils stopped and the irises began. She felt she could swim into the depths of those eyes for days and never touch bottom.
Like hers, his hair was now sprinkled with gray, but she liked it on him. She reached out a hand and tucked a wild hair behind his ear. “You need a haircut, mi amor.”
“It’s good to see your smile,” he said.
Linda brightened, smiling more broadly. David placed his empty coffee mug in the holder and slapped his hands down on his thighs, a gesture he often used to say it was time to get moving.
“Okay, Leonel,” he said, grinning at her and laughing quietly at the man-name they had finally chosen for her last night. “Let’s go.”
Linda followed her husband to the back of the truck and stood aside as he dropped the tailgate with a noisy clatter. She moved closer when he began to tug at the ladder and, reaching into the truck bed, picked up the other end with one hand and eased it forward to help. When the ladder was nearly out of the truck, she grabbed the toolbox with her other hand. It took David a moment to get situated with the new chandelier in one hand, and then they walked in tandem to the front door and rang the bell.
“Ms. Jessica Roark?” David asked when a short blonde woman answered the door. When the woman nodded, he continued, “I’m David Alvarez, and this is my partner, Leonel. We are here to install your new chandelier.”
“Thank you! Randy called and said you’d be here this morning. Please, come in.”
Linda stood in the foyer, steadying the ladder in a corner while David assessed the job. He pulled out a variety of tools from the chest and laid them out neatly on a soft rag on the floor.
As he worked, Linda let her eyes wander. It was quite an impressive foyer, with a two-story ceiling and wide staircase with a bend in it. The walls were painted a warm yellowy color and displayed paintings of brightly colored flowers. In spite of the color, the space felt lifeless, though, like it was for display only and no one really lived there.
Linda’s eyes met those of the woman of the house. Ms. Roark was tiny, even smaller than Linda had been as a woman. She was maybe four-foot-eleven, thin-hipped, and slender. She wore her hair pulled into a ponytail, despite the fact her hair wasn’t really long enough for it. She wore no makeup at all. Linda felt she could’ve used some. Her face was very pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Still, even with all of that, she was very pretty. Young, too. She couldn’t be older than thirty. Linda found herself wondering about how they could afford such a place when they were still so young.
“Will the work be very noisy? My husband is resting upstairs.”
David told her there would be some noise, but it wouldn’t last long unless he ran into problems. Ms. Roark nodded and then turned to walk up the stairs. “I’ll go close some doors, try to shield him from the noise a bit.” As she moved to climb the stairs, her pant leg slid up, and Linda noticed the woman was wearing some kind of brace on her ankle. It was an oddly bulky thing and looked very worn, like it had been around a long time. Her walk was strange, too. She gripped the banister very tightly and pulled herself up as if her legs were very heavy. There was something not quite right about this woman.
“Leonel?”
Linda started, realizing from his exasperated tone that David had probably called her more than once. She had just failed to respond to her man-name. She walked to his side and listened carefully as he explained how to help him set up the special ladder and then walked over and picked it up from where they had leaned it. David’s eyes widened. He must not have really believed her when she talked about her strength. To her, the ladder was no heavier than a load of laundry. She shrugged and set up the ladder where he indicated.
Standing next to her husband, Linda realized how much taller she had grown. David was tall for his family, five-foot-five, though he claimed five-foot-six on his driver’s license. She had always been a bit smaller than him at five-foot-three. Really, the footstools all over their house were for both of them. But now, she was looking down at David and noticing some new gray hair around the crown of his head. According to the measurements on the ladder, she was around six-foot-two now. No wonder she had been so sore in the days after her transformation. That was nearly a foot of growth over the course of a couple of days.
David began the long climb up the ladder. Linda hovered at the bottom, keeping a steadying hand on the ladder and her eyes on her husband. It was a very high ceiling, and Linda was glad she was not the one who had to climb the ladder. Once at the top, David made a quick examination of the remaining pieces of the old ch
andelier, climbed back down the ladder, and began gathering tools. “Linda, could you go and find Señora Roark and ask her the location of the electrical box so I can turn off power to the fixture while I work?”
Linda nodded her agreement and stepped to the bottom of the staircase, craning her neck to peek at where she’d last seen the lady of the house. She couldn’t see much because of the bend in the staircase, so she climbed a few steps to the first landing. At the top of the stairs, she could see a few baskets lined up against the railing filled with brightly colored bed sheets and clothing. Must be laundry day. Linda didn’t miss those days when the children seemed to dirty six or seven outfits each day. It was nice having them grown and taking care of themselves.
When Jessica Roark appeared in the hall, arms full of yet more laundry, Linda called out, “Mrs. Roark?” Jessica jumped a little, and Linda had the distinct impression that her feet didn’t make it all the way back to the floor. “I’m sorry to startle you. My hus―partner—needs to know where to find your electrical box?”
Linda expected Mrs. Roark to come downstairs and walk with them to the box. Most women didn’t like for workmen to wander around the house unsupervised. But Mrs. Roark grabbed the railing and leaned down, gesturing and explaining to Linda where to go to find it. Linda nodded and turned to go back down the stairs, wondering what had the woman holding onto the railing with such force. Her knuckles were white.
Back downstairs, Linda led her husband to the electrical box in a little closet outside the kitchen. While he examined the switches in the box, figuring out which one to flip, Linda took a step into the room and peered curiously around. It was certainly big. There was one of those island stations in the middle with a pretty marble countertop and a small sink, with plenty of room all around it for movement. There was a fancy oven Linda found herself coveting―double ovens, plus a gas range with the changeable plates that would let you configure it however you wanted. The walls were a dusty red, almost an adobe-color, but more vibrant. A skylight lit the whole room with a lovely natural glow. Beautiful.
Going Through the Change Page 9
