Page 59 of Pete and His Precious

“That up to a certain amount of money, money does kind of make you happier. If you can’t pay your bills, if you can’t buy groceries, it really does affect how happy you say you are. But, once you have your necessities taken care of, more money doesn’t equal more happiness. Not for the majority of people.”

She’s quiet for a bit, and then she surprises me with her next statement. “Aunt Zoe is always saying that God shall supply all her needs. That kinda sounds like He knows what we need in order to be happy. And more is... Unnecessary.”

“Yes. I would agree.”

“Maybe even if you have a lot of money you’re not as happy?”

“Maybe,” I say.

“If we didn’t have so much money, mom wouldn’t be in Paris right now. I wouldn’t have a bodyguard, and I would feel more like a normal kid who has a mom at home, who cooks her meals, and packs her lunch, and kisses her goodbye, and... I think I might be happier with that.”

“Well I can’t say that I disagree with you. But I think we also have to be careful because we have a tendency to look at what we think we want, and think that will make us happy. Usually material possessions don’t make us happy. Although, I guess you’re not really talking about material possessions.”

“I’m talking about having a mom who loves me. And shows it by hugging me, rather than throwing money.”

Wow. This got deep fast, and I was not expecting it. I’m not good with kids. I don’t know what to say to them, I have no idea how to help them. And I really don’t know what to say to Baxley right now.

“I think your mom loves you. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to show it. There is a thing called love languages. I’m not too good about it, but I think the idea is that different people show love in different ways. And different people feel loved in different ways. So maybe the way your mom shows you love and maybe the way you want to be shown love are two different things.”

“Maybe,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sure about that. “Sometimes I wish that Aunt Zoe was my mom.”

That would make Zoe happy and sad at the same time to know that, I think. Sad because it’s her sister’s kid and I know Zoe doesn’t want her sister’s kid to not love her mom. “I know that Aunt Zoe loves you. And if anything ever happens to your mom, I bet you anything that Aunt Zoe would take you in a heartbeat.”

“Oh mom would have money put back to send me to a school or something. I would never get to live with Aunt Zoe.”

“So maybe you can try to find a way to make yourself happy here with your mom?” I pause, and then I say, “I found that most of the time it’s up to me to decide that I’m happy. When I see things that I want, and I can’t have, it can make me discontent with what God has given me. But, if I remember how much Ialready have. And even if I think about the ways I can change my circumstances, that I have the power to change them, I don’t feel nearly so helpless and miserable.”

“Yeah. Helpless and miserable. That doesn’t sound good at all.”

“No. It doesn’t. So, you have to choose to make yourself happy.”

Baxley just sits on the porch and doesn’t say anything. Maybe she’s thinking about what I said, maybe not. I feel like I could have said it better, and that someone wiser and smarter than me should be trying to talk to this kid. But, I also know that God is in control, and he has me here for a reason. And all I can do is my best.

Chapter 21

Phyllis

I’m not sure the parakeet is working,” Carrie says, as we sit with our tools and furniture together in the lobby of the apartment building.

“I know it’s not,” Tammy says with her always negative attitude. She’s irritating at times, and at other times I feel inspired to rehabilitate her. It’s one of my faults.

“Surely there is something else we can do,” Leslie says, as she dabs some glue to the top of the chair leg, then pushes the upholstery fabric against it.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” I say, looking around the room. My friends are usually down for my harebrained schemes, but this is more than we’ve ever done before. It’s been fun to try to do matchmaking for the people who live in our apartment building. I feel like it’s a public service. Like I’m doing some good in the world. Bringing people together, sowing love and good feelings. All of that garbage.

I’m kidding. Mostly. I didn’t have a very happy marriage of my own, so, I guess I get some kind of secondhand pleasure from seeing other people happy.

“And you’ve come up with?” Leslie asks an open-ended question, waiting for my answer. She is about ten years younger than the rest of us, and she is usually the first one down for the things I want to do. She’s recently retired, and has a hard time filling her days since her children have all flown the nest, and only come back for holidays and an occasional visit if that.

“Well, it’s going to involve a little bit of legwork,” I say, wanting to maybe undersell it, overestimate the downsides, so that when they hear when I’m actually thinking, they’ll be moreinclined to say yes, relieved that I’m not having them jump off a cliff or something.

Tammy would never do that, but I think Carrie and Leslie would. Especially if I jump first.

Which I have no intention of doing. I might be nearing eighty years old, but in my heart I’m still a teenager. I don’t think I ever grew up. Maybe that was a problem in my marriage. I thought everything should be happy, and the catastrophes didn’t have to be as bad as what we made them out to be, but my husband disagreed, and he liked everything to be perfect. He couldn’t stand it when things weren’t. I guess I was just better at shrugging things off than he was, but I think it showed our different personalities too. He was detail oriented, while... I was not.

“I’m a legwork person. We’ve been sitting around doing this furniture for so long, I am so out of shape. I really need to hit the gym,” Leslie says, holding her hand on the fabric while the glue dries.

“People our age don’t hit the gym. We take walks at the mall,” Carrie says with a small smile. Her neon green hair makes her look like she is more Leslie’s age than mine. But I know her to be a little older than me actually.

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