Page 11 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“Oh, yeah!” she said. “Barrett got hold of me this mornin’. Told me I ought to come by. Said you were lookin’ to sell your dad’s house now that he’s…”

She trailed off, and I couldn’t stand the sad look in her eyes. I looked away, looking out over the horse pasture and towards the old dirt road.

“Yeah, absolutely. You got your real estate license then?”

“I did!” Tammy said, squeezing past me and into the house. “Just a few months after you left for school. I can’t do a lot with it in a town like this, but I’m lookin’ to move a little closer to the big city, and maybe it’ll do me some good there.”

“I’m sure it will.”

I followed her as she looked around, scribbling notes on the clipboard clutched to her chest. Slowly, we meandered throughroom after room, and with every little thing she jotted down, my stomach twisted into tighter and tighter knots.

“Boy, does this take me back,” she said with a sigh, stepping through the dining room and into the kitchen. Tammy and my mom had been good friends, and I could still remember waiting for the bus to take me off to kindergarten just as Tammy walked in for coffee and a chat with Mom. I’d walk out the door on dew-drenched mornings, Tammy’s cackling laughter following after me.

“I know the feeling.” I sighed, running my hand down the floral wallpaper over the stove. It was unchanged, much like my dad had been. It was like I walked into a time capsule, and the memories it spat out were painful and heavy.

“Coffee?” I asked, turning toward the sink. I needed something to keep my mind off of it.

“Sure!” she said, taking a gentle seat in one of the kitchen chairs.

I grabbed a pair of mugs out of the cabinet and filled them with the coffee I’d made the night before. If Tammy was anything like she used to be, she only drank it black. She accepted it with a nod of thanks.

“Well, I’ll be honest,” she said, pulling a deep drink from the mug. “The old place needs work.”

“It does,” I agreed with a nod. I had a horrible feeling bad news wasn’t far behind.

“In a small town like this? A house that needs this much love and money ain’t gonna be a big seller.”

“So I can’t sell it?” I asked, and I could feel the emotions burning my throat again.

Damnit.

“No, you can! Just give ‘er some good TLC. Fix what needs fixin’, slap on a fresh coat of paint, and I’m sure I can have those keys in a new set of hands in just a month or two.”

I shrank in my seat, my disappointment obvious.

Months? I had to stay here formonths?

“Not what you wanted to hear, I take it?”

“Not really, if I’m being honest.”

Tammy was quiet for a minute, taking another drink. She swallowed hard.

“I don’t blame you, ya know. None of us do. If any of us had gone through what you went through, we’d want to get the hell out of this town and never look back, too.”

I flashed her a fake smile. I hope it did something for her. It didn’t do much for me.

“Tell ya what,” Tammy said, looking down at her clipboard. “When I get home, I’ll call up my cousin Ray—you remember him? Still kickin’, that one! I’ll send him over and see what he can fix for ya. He’d be happy to help. He worked with your dad for quite a while.”

“Yeah, I remember. Ray Boone. He’s a carpenter, right?”

“And inspector,” Tammy corrected me, and I snorted.

In a town as small as this one, everyone wore more than one hat, it seemed.

We sat that way for a while longer, reminiscing about old times and acquaintances. I was sad to learn that my old kindergarten teacher, Mrs Down, had passed a couple of years ago, and the fire chief, Dale Watchman, would be retiring next year.

We talked about my mom, and then about my dad, remembering old times and laughing at dad’s weird priorities and quirks. Then the conversation turned to me.

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