| |
Lincoln paced back and forth in his living room ... if propelling oneself on crutches could be called pacing. He had managed to get down on his knees to finally clean that pizza-sauce-plastered wall and had cleaned as much of the rest of his apartment as he could manage. Not that it was messy. He liked things clean, sanitary. But he'd been lax the past few days. Especially with the sweeping, something he still couldn't manage to do. Tufts of Romper's fur blew across the hardwood whenever a breeze passed by and settled in the corners.
Lincoln went over and over the scene in his mind, the words exchanged, whatever ridiculous force had prompted him to open his mouth and tell that woman and her son to move in with him. Now, a day later, it seemed like another person must have done it. This was the exact opposite of what he wanted, of what he'd been striving for. The one positive was his argument that she could help him out right now. Get the groceries. Travel down the stairs for Romper's quick visits to the lawn. Sweep the floor and stop allowing his apartment to feel like some desert riddled with tumbleweeds.
But was it worth it? To have that woman and her son coming and going? To live in exactly the scenario he'd been working to avoid? He looked at the clock on his wall. Even this. She hadn't said what time she'd arrive. Just, you’ll be home, right? As if he had nothing better to do than wait around for her.
And what kind of a woman was she, to bring her son into the home of a stranger? He could be an axe murderer. She hadn't asked about that. Just a rapist or a pedophile. If he was one, did she think he'd admit it?
He looked to the clock again. 8:15. Thursday, at 8:15. She better come soon. If she didn't, too bad for her. Too bad if she needed help. He wasn’t going to risk being on the street before that salsa class. He looked down at his crutches—not that he could help anyway.
Three taps on the door. Gentle. Unassuming.
Romper gave three answering barks and scurried toward the door, tail wagging.
“Just a moment.” Lincoln hesitated. If he opened that door, if he welcomed them in, his life would turn into something completely other than it had been. He'd be invaded. It wasn't too late to say no, turn back on his word. He could say it was the drugs, say they'd made him loopy, unaware of what he was offering. He could tell her that the friend he was renting the place from was coming back and would need the room. He could leave a woman and her child on the street.
An image flashed in his mind: Kali and Theo standing in line outside some shelter. Would there be a line-up? Would they be allowed to stay in the same room? Each night, would they wait, uncertain whether the next night they'd have a place to sleep?
Lincoln knew nothing of how these things worked. Only what he saw in movies.
“Uh ...” Lincoln stepped to the door but stopped—handling the door knob was an awkward affair and he didn't want this moment, this first new moment, to be of him looking like a klutz. He stepped back. “It's open. Just ... just come in.”
The door opened and she stood, her arms full of boxes. Only her eyes peered above the load. Had she walked up the stairs like that? Theo stood beside her, his arms wrapped around a teddy bear, a pillow, and what looked to be some kind of security blanket.
One more bark from Romper. He pranced between Kali and Theo then settled on Theo, circling the boy.
“I ...” Kali's voice seemed frail. Uncertain. Not at all the voice he was used to hearing emerge between those lips. Not that he was used to her voice, but he would be.
“Put your stuff anywhere.” Lincoln spread his arm, trying to sound welcoming, cheerful even. His crutch threatened to tumble with the gesture, and he had to grasp it with a clatter and a grunt.
Kali stepped inside and motioned with her head for Theo to follow. She glanced around the room then set her boxes against the wall near the door. “To the couch,” she whispered to Theo. He crawled up onto it. Romper followed.
Kali put her hands on her hips. She stood tall. “So, the movers—that bastard's cousin and a couple of guys—are downstairs. It's not a lot of stuff. I dumped some of it but,” she glanced around the room, “I have a couch. I'll try to make it fit in our room.” She stepped toward the half open door and leaned in. She stood back, a frown on her face. “Or not.”
“We can figure that out.” Lincoln stood about six feet from her, afraid to move. “The living room has space.” He gestured. “Against that wall.”
“Yeah.” She brought her gaze back to Lincoln. “An armchair too. And all my kitchen stuff.” She paused again. “I can leave most of that in boxes. I didn't want to get rid of too much, things I know I'll need when we leave again.”
“Of course.”
She looked back toward the bedroom. “The armchair will fit in there.”
“Great.”
“I don't want to invade your space.”
“You won’t.”
“This is short term.”
“Absolutely.” Lincoln swallowed. “A stopping place. A transition place. It’s that for me too.”
“Mmmhmm.” She stared at Theo. “Could he stay here while I go help the men?”
“Sure. Yes. Absolutely.”
Kali stepped toward the spare room and stood inside the door. Assessing, he guessed. She came back out. “Okay. The couch won't fit there, but the armchair will. I ... I'll be right back.”
She looked at Theo once more before exiting the apartment. Romper stood in the middle of the living room. His head lolled between Theo and the door. He knew something was up. He kept his gaze on Theo a moment then swivelled to Lincoln.
“Go on.” Lincoln motioned to Theo. The dog gave a little hop and a leap over, then nuzzled his head into Theo's lap. Lincoln watched the two for a moment before turning his eyes on the door. He stood, motionless, as thumps and grunts of the men manoeuvring the old and uneven staircase sounded around them. He stayed standing as they entered, looked at him, then brought the couch into the apartment.
Kali was close behind, a different woman altogether from the one who'd just left. “Richard. Easy on the corners, will you?” She set down her new load of boxes beside the previous one. “Okay. Couch along that far wall. No, over a couple of feet.” It went on like this for the next twenty minutes or so. Kali directing the men as if she owned the place. As if she knew in advance exactly where everything should go. No consultation with Lincoln. Hardly even looking at Lincoln.
When the men had left and the door had closed, Kali sat on her own couch. She looked to Theo. “Are you hungry?” The boy shook his head. “Thirsty?” Another shake. “Well, I'm parched.” She pushed herself up and looked at Lincoln. “Can I get you anything?”
Lincoln shook his head as she disappeared into the kitchen. She emerged with an orange Fanta, certainly not something she'd found in his fridge ... or perhaps she had. But not something he'd put there.
Lincoln glanced between the two couches. He needed to sit. He couldn't believe he'd stood all that time. Only now did his body start punishing him for it. But he couldn't take another pain killer yet. What was better? To sit beside the boy or her, on her property. He opted for his own couch, where his own dog had curled up, and settled in a few feet away from Theo.
“It's a spacious place.”
Lincoln nodded.
“You said you're renting it from a friend.”
Another nod.
He could see it in her eyes, the urge again to tell him it could be spruced up. A fresh coat of paint, some real pictures on the walls. At least that's what he thought he saw. Would she do it? Take over? Would he come home one day to a place that looked like a home? She looked away. “I've never tried to get into a co-op, or subsidized housing, or whatever it's called.”
Lincoln didn't reply.
“Maybe I should have.”
Still, he didn't know what to say.
“I mean, I bet there are regulations. I bet if you had bed bugs or mould or rats, whatever agency was responsible for placements would make sure the landlord did something about it.”
Lincoln coughed. “I imagine so. That would seem right.” He fingered a hole in his jeans; a weight pressed against his chest. “I'm not legit here. I haven't contacted any agency.”
“Right.” She leaned back against the couch, sipping her Fanta. “Did I tell you about the bed bugs? That was the first problem. It was quite the process getting rid of them. We had to strip everything. Steam everything. They got all in our hair.”
“Sounds awful.”
“It was probably a ploy by the landlord, a way to get people out of their units so he could sell easier. A bunch of people did leave. And then the pipes broke. Or he broke them. That's when we moved.”
“Moved?”
She looked to her lap. “Not sure how much you heard the other day. We moved to a different unit. That's why I didn't have a proper lease. I'm not just some stupid—” she stopped. “So, what's your deal? What happened in your life to land you here?”
Lincoln stared at her.
She gestured toward the table covered with all manner of construction items, to the smashed model house he'd picked up and let tumble among the other scraps of wood. “You said you're working on a project.”
“Yup.”
She pressed her lips together. “Not a big talker?”
He shrugged, swallowed, wanted to sink through the seat cushions and away into nothingness.
She crossed a leg, but not daintily. Her ankle rested across her knee, like a man's would. “You have your secrets. I have mine.” Her voice softened. “That's best.” She looked at Theo again.
Lincoln stared at the tree houses on the opposite wall, studying each one, imagining each one.
“This will be temporary. Really temporary. Maybe until the end of the month. I'll start looking for a new place tomorrow.”
He glanced sideways at her. Oh, the weight. Where did it come from? How could nothing press against his chest so hard? “That seems best.”
“And I'll pay you. Half for each day we're here.”
He turned to look at her. “That's not necess—”
“It is necessary.”
A tendril of fur blew across the floor. Lincoln pointed at it. “I'd be happy if you took care of those. Sweeping's hard with these things.” He tapped the crutches.
“That's hardly worth rent. I don't want to owe you anything. And I'm not a charity case.”
“I didn't think—”
“And I'm not some ... there are reasons.” She stopped again. “My mom was sick. I worked through school. All through school. She had medical bills. And I had plans. My life was supposed to be different. Supposed to be better. Some things you can't control.”
“Of course.”
She looked at Theo. “I know what you're thinking. But it wasn't like that.” Her voice raised several octaves. “Theo, Sweetie, why don't you go check out our new room. You can choose what side of the bed you want.”
Theo stood, his blanket trailing behind him. Her voice lowered again. “I was married. I wasn't some stupid girl who got knocked up.”
“I didn't think—” Lincoln looked toward the no longer spare room. “Where's your husband now?”
“I don't have a husband now.” She stood. “Well, I'm hungry even if no one else is. I brought the fixings to make spaghetti. You want some?”
Lincoln nodded. “Spaghetti sounds great.”