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Authors: Elaine Orr
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photos?”
“Easy as pie.”
I took several pictures and then wrote down my email address. I could take exterior pictures anytime. I put my tape measure in my purse and started to ask her something, but Patricia beat me to it.
“Are you enjoying the chest of drawers?” she asked.
“Getting ready to. My friends are moving me into my house tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s great. Where is it?”
“It’s a couple of blocks south of the popsicle district, on Bay Street.”
“That part of town is really changing,” Patricia said.
I nodded. “I think a lot of the older residents are leaving and there is more energy with the younger buyers. Present company excluded.”
She laughed. “I’m always really wiped out when I have to move.”
“If you worked here in high school you probably haven’t moved too often.”
I married a guy I met in college and we moved to Texas for his job. The job lasted, but the marriage didn’t, so my kids and I moved back here.”
“Ouch.” I got divorced not too long ago.”
“Kids?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“I was going to say I might see you on the soccer field. Two of mine are in grade school and they live to play soccer.”
I moved toward the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around town.”
After a couple more pleasantries I walked to my car. I liked Patricia. Maybe I’d see if she and her kids wanted to come to whatever the heck the birthday party was going to be. But first, I had to swing by the police station.
It was Saturday, so I didn’t really expect Sergeant Morehouse to be there. It was too complicated to explain it all to someone else, so I left a brief note at the front desk asking him to call me when he figured out where my data card was. I wasn’t even snotty about it.
IT WAS FIFTY degrees and clear Sunday afternoon as we gathered at the Cozy Corner to collect my things. My sister Renée came down from Lakewood. I had told her there wasn’t that much to move, but she said she was here for support and fun, not work, and she brought a huge tin of homemade chocolate chip cookies.
“How come you learned to cook and Jolie didn’t?” Scoobie asked.
“She didn’t like my mother standing over her shoulder,” my sister said, cheerfully.
“Damn, Jolie. I thought you just got stubborn when you got older.”
“She was pretty stubborn in eleventh grade,” Bill Oliver said. I stuck out my tongue at him.
Before I could say anything else, Aunt Madge produced a list of items she thought we were moving. “All of the furniture in Jolie’s bedroom goes, except for the chest of drawers,” she began.
“That rocker’s not mine,” I said.
“It is now.” She smiled at me, and I blew her a kiss.
“There are a couple tubs of houseware-type stuff you put in the basement, and Harry and Lester drove out to your small storage locker to get lamps and a few boxes. Up to you whether you go back later today to get your exercise bike and heavier boxes of books and all that.”
“Harry and Lester?” I almost groaned. “Lester will talk his ear off.”
“And probably insult him about appraisal prices,” Ramona added.
“Lester wanted to help,” Aunt Madge said, “and Harry said now you owe him.”
I grinned at her. Lester would help, and he would probably bug me about the appraisal I was working on of the small store.
It didn’t take long to load my possessions in the cargo van I’d rented and I told Aunt Madge I’d be back in a few hours to vacuum my old room. Scoobie and Ramona rode in Bill’s car and Renée and I were in the cargo van.
“I bet you never thought you’d have your own place this soon,” she said. Renée is several years older than I am, and she was my biggest supporter when my husband was arrested for embezzling from his bank. I haven’t seen her much the last eighteen months. At Christmas she told me she had been giving me space, but she expected to see more of me in the future.
“You’re right. Sometimes I feel
“Easy as pie.”
I took several pictures and then wrote down my email address. I could take exterior pictures anytime. I put my tape measure in my purse and started to ask her something, but Patricia beat me to it.
“Are you enjoying the chest of drawers?” she asked.
“Getting ready to. My friends are moving me into my house tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s great. Where is it?”
“It’s a couple of blocks south of the popsicle district, on Bay Street.”
“That part of town is really changing,” Patricia said.
I nodded. “I think a lot of the older residents are leaving and there is more energy with the younger buyers. Present company excluded.”
She laughed. “I’m always really wiped out when I have to move.”
“If you worked here in high school you probably haven’t moved too often.”
I married a guy I met in college and we moved to Texas for his job. The job lasted, but the marriage didn’t, so my kids and I moved back here.”
“Ouch.” I got divorced not too long ago.”
“Kids?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“I was going to say I might see you on the soccer field. Two of mine are in grade school and they live to play soccer.”
I moved toward the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around town.”
After a couple more pleasantries I walked to my car. I liked Patricia. Maybe I’d see if she and her kids wanted to come to whatever the heck the birthday party was going to be. But first, I had to swing by the police station.
It was Saturday, so I didn’t really expect Sergeant Morehouse to be there. It was too complicated to explain it all to someone else, so I left a brief note at the front desk asking him to call me when he figured out where my data card was. I wasn’t even snotty about it.
IT WAS FIFTY degrees and clear Sunday afternoon as we gathered at the Cozy Corner to collect my things. My sister Renée came down from Lakewood. I had told her there wasn’t that much to move, but she said she was here for support and fun, not work, and she brought a huge tin of homemade chocolate chip cookies.
“How come you learned to cook and Jolie didn’t?” Scoobie asked.
“She didn’t like my mother standing over her shoulder,” my sister said, cheerfully.
“Damn, Jolie. I thought you just got stubborn when you got older.”
“She was pretty stubborn in eleventh grade,” Bill Oliver said. I stuck out my tongue at him.
Before I could say anything else, Aunt Madge produced a list of items she thought we were moving. “All of the furniture in Jolie’s bedroom goes, except for the chest of drawers,” she began.
“That rocker’s not mine,” I said.
“It is now.” She smiled at me, and I blew her a kiss.
“There are a couple tubs of houseware-type stuff you put in the basement, and Harry and Lester drove out to your small storage locker to get lamps and a few boxes. Up to you whether you go back later today to get your exercise bike and heavier boxes of books and all that.”
“Harry and Lester?” I almost groaned. “Lester will talk his ear off.”
“And probably insult him about appraisal prices,” Ramona added.
“Lester wanted to help,” Aunt Madge said, “and Harry said now you owe him.”
I grinned at her. Lester would help, and he would probably bug me about the appraisal I was working on of the small store.
It didn’t take long to load my possessions in the cargo van I’d rented and I told Aunt Madge I’d be back in a few hours to vacuum my old room. Scoobie and Ramona rode in Bill’s car and Renée and I were in the cargo van.
“I bet you never thought you’d have your own place this soon,” she said. Renée is several years older than I am, and she was my biggest supporter when my husband was arrested for embezzling from his bank. I haven’t seen her much the last eighteen months. At Christmas she told me she had been giving me space, but she expected to see more of me in the future.
“You’re right. Sometimes I feel
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