Page 57 of Queen of Ruin

“Ethel Jackson. That’s my name.”

I lean down and motion into the car. “This is my wife, Evangeline.” The word wife rolls off my tongue much easier than the word grandfather.

Ethel doesn’t need to lean in, she just looks past me to where Evangeline sits in the car giving a little wave. “Nice to meet you,” Ethel says, and then looks back at me.

“Winter storm last year.” She points to the house. “Snow became too heavy and collapsed part of the roof in the back, but truth be told, this house hasn’t been taken care of for a long time.” She confirms what I had already suspected.

“Did you know my grandfather?” I probe tentatively, but what I really want to know is if she knew my father, but that seems almost impossible since my father left home nearly thirty years ago and presumably never looked back. Ethel might have lived in this neighborhood her whole life, but that doesn’t mean she remembers him.

“He ain’t lived here for about a good year now.”

“Big shots been buying up homes in the neighborhood, building these monstrosities and driving up property taxes that no one around here can afford.”

“Did they buy this house?” I look at it skeptically.

“They don’t care what the house looks like, son. They care about the land it’s on.

What am I supposed to do when I can’t afford my property tax bill anymore?” she agonizes, and I can see the worry lines in her face. “This house is all I got.”

“There’s nothing you can do about investors buying properties as long as they buy them legitimately.”

Evangeline gets out of the car and stands next to me. She looks at Ethel with concern.

“There must be something you can do,” Evangeline pleads.

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Have you looked into a relief program?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Ethel gives me a skeptical look.

“Some states have what’s called a senior freeze program. There are obviously age requirements, but if you qualify it freezes the valuation of your home,” I explain.

“You think I could do that?” Her face lights up, smoothing out the worry lines on her forehead.

I feel Evangeline loop her fingers through mine.

“You’d have to see if the county has a program first.”

“Sounds like a lot of red tape,” she grouses, and then shakes her head in frustration. “I… I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to do any of that.”

“You don’t have any grandkids that are computer savvy?” I inquire.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Most of them moved away. I got one all the way in California.”

“You could help her.” Evangeline squeezes my hand. This isn’t why I came here, but with both Evangeline and Ethel giving me a wide-eyed, pleading look, I don’t see how I can leave here without at least looking it up for her.

“If you help me with this relief program, I’ll tell you everything I know,” she offers in her best conspiratorial tone.

“I can’t guarantee anything,” I make sure to explain.

“Ain't nothing come with a guarantee unless it’s death or taxes.” Ethel rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Do you have a computer?”

“I might live in the country, but I’m no bumpkin. Sure, I got a computer.” She waves me to follow her inside, and reluctantly I follow.

“This is very sweet of you to do,” Evangeline says softy while she takes my arm, and I help her up the stairs to Ethel's house.

“Do I have a choice?”

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