I woke up Saturday to the familiar sound of loud thumps going down the outside stairs in back of the six-flat as Maddox Campbell moved out of 3B. Clouds still covered the city, but at least it wasn’t raining on the movers. I ran upstairs at one point to say good-bye to his wife and mother, but no women were to be seen—just a sweaty crew of dark-skinned men, mostly Jamaican, lugging out boxes and furniture. It was obvious the women had been at work, though. Boxes were stacked neatly in each room, the kitchen appliances had been scrubbed—even the inside of the refrigerator— and the old, scratched wooden floors looked as if they’d been waxed and shined.
I did catch Maddox as he came back for more boxes, his dreads caught back in a thick ponytail, and shook his hand. “Best wishes to you, Mr. Campbell. I’m sorry I couldn’t renew your lease. But if I was going to rent out these apartments, I would want to have good tenants like you.”
The man nodded soberly. “Tank you, Miss Fairbanks. You a good woman. Good heart. Good head—under all dem crazy red curly-Qs.” He grinned. “But why you not have a man? If you interested, I got two or t’ree who be good men. Hard workers. No gangbangers or Rastas.”
It was hard not to giggle, but I was saved by my cell phone, which rang just then. So I just smiled at Mr. Campbell, thanked him for the compliment, and flipped open the phone as I scurried back down the two flights of stairs. Huh! Just what I needed right now—a matchmaker with dreadlocks!
The call was from Will, saying he could bring his grandmother by Manna House around two o’clock, which meant I needed to get over there earlier than that to talk to Lucy. I’d also promised her I’d bring Dandy back today, much to Paul’s dismay. He’d not only given the dog a bath the night before but had brushed Dandy’s yellow coat until it lay silky and smooth.
“Good job, kiddo. He looks like a different dog,” I said, giving Paul a hug. I wanted to tell my tenderhearted son I was going to confront Lucy about her inability to take care of herself and Dandy on the street in the winter, but I didn’t want to get his hopes up about taking care of the dog. And who knew what was going to happen when Will and his grandmother met Lucy?
Right after lunch I changed into slacks and a sweater, left the boys with a list of chores to do and a promise we’d go see a movie later, and showed up at Manna House with Dandy while lunch cleanup was still going on. Several residents were playing cards and board games in Shepherd’s Fold, a few were reading old magazines, and others were just sitting. I could hear the TV blaring all the way from the TV room.
Lucy, however, was snoring on a couch in a corner of the main room, her left foot propped up on a stack of pillows, the ankle wrapped once again with an elastic bandage until the new swelling went down. I hesitated to wake her, but Dandy had no such qualms, putting his paws up on the couch cushions and licking her face.
“Umph . . . uh . . . wha—?” Lucy woke, startled. “Oh, heh heh, hey there, Dandy.” She tried to sit up, but fell back. “Dagnabit! These old muscles don’t bounce back like they used to.”
“That’s okay. You take it easy.” I found a few more throw pillows and propped her up with a little help—hindrance was more like it—from Dandy.
“Say, now, don’t you look fancy,” Lucy murmured, stroking the dog’s head. “That Paul, he sure does know how to purty you up.”
I sat down on the other end of the couch, taking care not to jostle her foot. “Something I want to talk to you about, Lucy. About you and Dandy—”
“I know, I know!” The old lady threw up a hand. “Been thinkin’ ’bout it all night. Dandy just couldn’t stop shiverin’ after he took a dunk in th’ lake. Tell you the truth, Fuzz Top, I was skeered—skee-red he was gonna get pneumony if somebody didn’t come along an’ find us purty soon. Woulda walked him back here myself if I hadn’t twisted my ankle again.” She leaned over and waggled the dog’s ears with both hands. “Guess I been an old fool, Dandy, thinkin’ you an’ me could make it out on the streets this winter.” Her voice drifted and she looked away, almost as if she’d forgotten I was there. “But he’s good company, ya know? Gets mighty lonely sometimes.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. I cleared my throat. “I know. You’ve been good company for Dandy, too, Lucy. He was lonely after my mom died, and he loves you, plain to see that. But sometimes we have to do what’s best for those we love, not just what we want, and I think we need a new plan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she growled. “I know whatcha gonna say. Was gonna say th’ same thing. Ya think Paul would mind watchin’ Dandy over the winter, at least till this bum ankle heals and the weather gets warm again?”
I wanted to laugh. Mind? Not for a minute. Though I’d actually been going to ask if she’d be willing to give Dandy to Paul to be his own dog, not just take care of him for Lucy. But I didn’t. It was going to be hard for Lucy to part with the dog, period. Maybe it was easier for her to think about it in stages.
“But it’s not just Dandy I’m worried about,” I said. “You’re eighty years old. It’s not safe for you to still be out on the street in this kind of weather, Lucy—especially not with your ankle still weak. And it’s only going to get worse, you know that. But I have good news.” I took a deep breath. “Someone’s been looking for you—and I think he’s found you. Someone who doesn’t want you to have to live on the street anymore.”
Lucy squinted her rheumy eyes at me. “What in tarnation you talkin’ ’bout? You not makin’ any sense a’tall, Gabby Fairbanks.”
I scooted closer on the couch. “You know that nice young man who was with me when we found you yesterday?”
“Yeah. So?”
“His name is Will Nissan. He’s Maggie Simple’s grandson—”
“Maggie who? Don’t know nobody named Simple. What kinda name is that?”
“Simple’s her married name. But growing up her name was Maggie Tucker.”
I waited for this news to sink in, but Lucy just scowled and pinched her lips.
“Lucy?” I said gently. “I’m talking about Maggie Tucker, your sister. She’s been looking for you for a long time—she and her grandson, Will. They’re coming here to see you in about—” I looked at my watch. 2:05. “Well, any time now.”
As if I’d just spoken biblical prophecy, I heard the front door buzzer. “That might be them now. I’ll go let them in.” I stood up and headed for the foyer, thanking God for Lucy’s bum ankle. The way she was acting, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d try to disappear in the two minutes I was out of the room.
I opened the big oak door. Sure enough, Will Nissan stood on the steps of Manna House holding the elbow of an elderly woman in a brown coat, wisps of gray hair framing her rather square face under a brown-and-tan knit hat.
“Please, come in!” I ushered them into the foyer. “Mrs. Simple? I’m Gabby Fairbanks, program director here at Manna House.” I held out my hand. “I’m so delighted to finally meet you. Your grandson has been a helpful friend to my, uh, husband.”
Maggie Simple shook my hand. Her skin was cool, soft. “Yes. Will told me about the gentleman who’s been helping him with his architecture classes.” Her voice was polite but tentative. “Is . . . Cindy here?”
“Well, we know her as Lucy, but her given name is Lucinda. Yes, she’s here. Sprained her ankle a couple weeks ago, though. In here.” I led the way through the double doors, wishing we had a private room where this at-long-last meeting could take place. The chapel? But moving Lucy anywhere would be an ordeal, so I tossed that idea. We’d just have to make do.
Mrs. Simple approached slowly, clinging to Will’s arm. I quickly brought a chair next to Lucy’s couch, and the elderly woman sat down on the edge. Lucy’s face was expressionless, her eyes focused somewhere else. Dandy started to get up and sniff at the newcomers, but Lucy’s hand gripped his collar and held him back. He whined and sat back down, as if confused.
Make that two of us. What was going to happen here?
But oh my goodness. It was like looking at aging twins—or would be if Lucy’s hair had a wash and a good cut. Same squarish, wrinkled face, same hazel eyes and heavy lids, same body build. Lucy’s skin, however, was rough and leathery from years on the streets, while Maggie’s had the soft, natural pink of a healthy woman in her seventies.
“Cindy? Is that you?” Mrs. Simple’s voice wavered.
“Name’s Lucy,” Lucy muttered. “Don’t nobody call me Cindy.”
Will spoke up. “Lucy, you remember me from last night, right? My name’s Will Nissan, and this is my grandmother, Maggie Simple. She’s been looking for her sister, Lucinda Tucker, for a long, long time. We think we’ve found her.”
Lucy said nothing for several moments, then growled, “Don’t got no family.”
“But it’s me—Maggie! Your sister!” Tears had started to puddle in Mrs. Simple’s eyes. She fished for an embroidered handkerchief tucked up her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of family! Brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. Ma and Pa, they’ve been gone now, oh, twenty years. But most of us children got married, had a passel of kids and grandkids—like Will here.” She looked up into her grandson’s face and smiled through the tears.
Lucy’s lip seemed to tremble, just for a moment, but she still didn’t look Maggie Simple in the face.
Will’s grandmother wagged her head. “Things were bad back then, Cindy. I know that. But all that’s past. No one thinks about . . . about what happened. Tucker family’s doin’ well now. ’Cept for one thing—our missing sister. Everybody thinks you’re dead. But not me. I knew one day we’d find you. Will and me, we come to Chicago to look for you, and here you are.”
No one spoke. But women around the room were looking curiously our way and starting to make comments. I slipped away from the reunion and moved from group to group. “Lucy’s got visitors and needs some privacy. Just leave them alone right now, all right? Thanks.”
I returned to Lucy’s couch just in time to hear Lucy mutter, “Been a long time. Too long. Can’t nothin’ be different now.”
“But—” Maggie Simple started to say, but Will stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“I think maybe we should leave now. Maybe we can come back soon.” He helped his grandmother to her feet. But then he stepped forward and squatted down beside Dandy, taking the dog’s face in his hands. “Thanks for looking after my Great-Aunt Cindy, Dandy. Tell her it’s a big job for a dog, though. Tell her we’d like to help you out, look after her now. Tell her we want to bring her home. Can you do that, fella?”
Without another word, he stood and walked his grandmother out into the foyer. Maggie kept looking back, as if she was afraid to leave, afraid the sister she’d just found would be lost again. But she clung to Will’s arm as I followed and opened the front door for them. As they stepped outside, Will turned back and gave me a lopsided grin. “That went well for the first visit, don’t you think?”