Page 36 of The Good Guy on My Porch

She nodded, a smile touching the corners of her mouth. “I heard about your churchy boyfriend. Is he the one making your life perfect?”

“How do you know…” I shook it off. Trying to figure out how the grape vine for gossip worked in this town would take a dozen social scientists and a hundred or so wire taps. “Never mind. Yes, my churchy boyfriend is amazing, my mother is almost completely healed from her cold, and I have my dream job. My life is perfect and there’s no need for anyone to worry about me.”

She pinched her lips together. “You sure that’s how you want to play this?”

Maybe I’d been wrong about Mary, maybe she wasn’t the sweet, rational, down-to-earth woman I’d always believed her to be. “I’m not playing anything.”

She sighed. “I made my world-famous chili for your mother, the spice will knock the congestion right out of her chest. I tried to take it by her place, but she didn’t answer the door. I was about to call you or the police, but she shouted that she wasn’t fit for company, so I left.” She paused and looked at me expectantly, like I was going to tell her why my mother would refuse to open the door when Mary’s world-famous chili was on the other side, but I couldn’t speak. My carefully constructed tower of lies was starting to crumble around me and I knew the fall-out would be catastrophic. Mary sighed again, heavier this time. “If I bring it by your place tonight, can you make sure she gets it?”

“Of course,” I said, speaking reflexively, because I was still in shock. If Mary had knocked on my mother’s door, why hadn’t my mother called me in a panic? Was she okay? Or was she curled up in a ball of terror in her bed? “You know what? Why don’t I come back to your house and get it now? That way she could have it for lunch.”

Mary nodded, her expression solemn, and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good daughter, Dilly Thompkins. No mother could ask for a better daughter than you.”

I nodded, my throat tight and my eyes stinging, because I knew the truth. I was the worst kind of daughter and if I’d just been…Easier on my mother, maybe she wouldn’t be in the state she was in now. “Thank you, Mary. Do you mind if we go now? I have to be at work soon.”

“Of course, dear.” Her expression was far too sad for the situation. Damn it, she knew more than she was telling me. I was almost certain of it, but not certain enough to risk calling her out on it.

***

I knocked on my mother’s door using our agreed-upon, knock-knock wait, knock-knock wait, code and she opened it right away, relieving my worry that she’d been terrified by Mary’s visit. She gave me a weak smile and returned to her usual spot on the couch as I walked in and shut the door behind me. “Hi, Momma. How are you doing today?”

“I didn’t sleep at all last night. There was a dog barking outside and I had a feeling he was trying to let me know something terrible was about to happen.”

I stopped in my tracks and really looked at her. Was her mind going? She wasn’t old enough for dementia. Was she? I smiled. “You didn’t honestly believe the dog was trying to talk to you, did you?”

She frowned. “I’m not a complete idiot, Dilly. I just mean the dog might have been barking because there were suspicious individuals creeping around out there.”

Relief made my knees weak. “Mary made her world-famous chili for you, I’ll put it in the fridge.”

She scrunched up her face in distaste. “Her world-famous chili is awful. That’s why I didn’t answer the door when she came by. You might as well take it home with you. I won’t eat it.”

My mother liked to pretend she was still a functioning member of society by suggesting she didn’t do things, like open her door, because she had a good reason not to and not because she was afraid. I didn’t bother arguing with her. I’d been down that road and it led nowhere good. “I can’t take it home right now. I’ve got to get to work. I’ll just leave it in your fridge and pick it up later.”

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” she asked. “We won’t have the chance to share a meal once you and your aunt ship me off to New Hampshire.”

Biting back a sigh, I took the chili to the kitchen. I put it in the fridge and took a moment to just breathe. Eyes closed, I pictured the sunset over the mountains, imagined Oscar, silent and supportive next to me. I opened my eyes feeling a little better. Oscar didn’t know why I needed support, would never know as far as I was concerned, but he still seemed to know exactly what I needed when I needed it and he gave it to me without question or judgment.

Not only did I look forward to the time we spent together, I’d started to depend on it. Books had always been my escape from the real world. I could read and, when I put the book down, I felt a bit like I’d been on a vacation, like I’d had a relaxing break. The time I spent with Oscar made me laugh and filled me with a happiness that books had never given me, but he also gave me quiet and understanding. When I walked away from him, I felt, well lately I’d felt a bit like I needed a cold shower, but I also felt stronger, like I could take on whatever happened and handle it. He lit up my days in a way no one ever had before.

I wrapped my arms around my middle and gave myself a tight squeeze. I imagined it was Oscar hugging me, whispering in my ear that I could handle this. I smiled. Maybe I wasn’t entirely sane. Oscar was taken, he had a live-in girlfriend. A woman with no baggage, I was sure. I’d be an idiot to depend on him too much, to expect his friendship to last, but I could enjoy him for now. I could take strength from his support as long as I remembered it wouldn’t last. I’d have to figure out how to support myself again at some point. Alone.

“Sure.” I walked out to rejoin my mother. “I’d love to have dinner with you tonight.”

Her lips ticked up just a bit in her current version of a smile. She never smiled like she had before my dad passed, fear or exhaustion prevented any real happiness. Maybe Aunt Melly was right, maybe we were holding her back, enabling her by not pushing her harder to get help.

I sat on the couch next to her and took her hands in mine. “All I really want, Momma, is for you to be happy. I just want you to not be afraid anymore.”

She leaned in and rested her forehead against mine. “Then be safe, Dilly. If you’re safe, I have nothing to fear.”

I said the words she wanted to hear, “I take every precaution, Momma,” but I couldn’t manage a smile, couldn’t fill the words with energy or promise. Her wish for my safety was probably what every mother wished for their child, but with my mother it was suffocating and a burden I hated. What she really wanted was me locked away in this apartment with her. She might not say it now, but she’d said it before and a part of me hated her for wishing her life on me.

“I know you do, dear. Just…Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today. That dog last night—”

I pulled back and dropped her hands, my gut pulling tight. “I have to go to work. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Her face twisted. “What if the people the dog saw are still out there, Dilly? What if they’re planning to cause trouble? There was another mass shooting last week. In a bookstore, Dilly. A bookstore isn’t so different from a library. Anyone could just walk in and pull out a gun.”

Of course, the risk of a shooting at the library had crossed my mind, but not going into work because of the possibility of some freak with a gun was a one-way ticket to the life my mother led. Even so, I knew from experience that arguing would lead to nothing good. She’d freak out and I’d have to stay to calm her down and I’d be late to work. “I’ll go straight home, and I’ll stay there, okay?”

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