Back-to-school supplies are only available at the grocery store and the farm supply store—that’s another of the 4,724 reasons I want to escape this town.
I nervously flip through a random magazine as I wait to meet with my advisor. I desperately still wanted to attend college this year, so I reached out to her via email, explaining the change in my situation. I pleaded with her to discuss options that might allow me to still attend classes while pregnant and later with a newborn. She scheduled this meeting without explaining if options existed. Thus, I nervously wait to hear if I can indeed leave Athens for college, or if I will have to move somewhere else.
“Your advisor will see you now.” The receptionist informs.
I rise and enter her office.
“Hello, Madison, I’m Odessa.” She motions to the two chairs facing her desk. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
She moves several papers and file folders from in front of her to the credenza at her back. Placing her elbows on the cleared desktop, she leans towards me, a smile upon her face.
“I am glad you emailed me about the change in your situation,” Odessa begins. “How have you been feeling?”
I don’t want idle chit-chat. I want to know if the life I planned is still an option. I want to demand answers but know I must be courteous. “I feel good; nervous, anxious, scared, but no morning sickness yet.”
She nods, selects a paper from the stack in her wire basket, and places it before her on the desk. “Let’s see what we can do to ease your mind. Pregnant students are permitted to live in the dormitories. Those who marry choose to reside in married housing or off campus. The university will still honor all scholarships and dorm assignments for you this fall and spring until you deliver the baby. Children are not allowed in the dorms. You will need to find other accommodations at that time. Your academic scholarships will still be available for your studies.”
I nod my understanding as a wave flows over me. I can still attend college. I still have a place to live this fall. I haven’t messed my entire future up.
“Madison, I don’t see you as the typical MU student. You arrive as a junior, not a freshman. Your previous coursework, grades, and CLEP testing demonstrate you will be an asset in our student body. In our two previous meetings, I feel I learned much about you, so I have another possibility for your housing.” Odessa takes a sip of her coffee.
“An acquaintance of mine recently shared information about her family. I think we may be able to assist her, and she may be able to help us. My friend’s father recently passed; her mother lives alone in the large family home, and all of the children reside out of state. She is contemplating placing her mother in a retirement community or moving her out of state. Her mother’s name is Alma, and she’s still active in the church and community. She is mobile, still drives, takes walks, and takes care of herself. The children are concerned she will be lonely and has no one nearby to keep an eye on her. I wonder if you might consider living in one of the four bedrooms, visit with her from time to time, and give the family peace of mind. She doesn’t need a nurse, just someone near to check in with her occasionally.”
My thoughts churn. I am not sure about this arrangement. Living off campus in a house beats a dorm room. There are many logistics to think of. I cannot afford to pay for my own meals, and my scholarships cover those on campus. I prepare to share my concerns when Odessa continues.
“I have arranged for us to have lunch with Alma today. I would like the two of you to meet prior to either of you agreeing to this arrangement. We should be going so we arrive prior to her.”
On the ride, I recall all that Odessa shared in her office. I am not sure if I hope to live with Alma or in the dorm. I’m anxious to meet her to see if we are a good match.
As we make our way inside Murray’s, we pass two teenage girls chatting with an older woman near the front door. They are discussing books they enjoyed reading this summer. One book they mention is the erotic romance I finished recently.
At our table, Odessa leans towards me. “Alma is in the group standing at the door.”
I follow her pointing finger, to find the group discussing books. I now hope, since Alma and I enjoy the same types of books, maybe living together could work out. She can’t be a stuffy, elderly woman if she openly speaks of erotic romance in public.
As we begin to nibble on our meal, Alma shares the story of how she met her husband on campus decades ago. I nearly spit my water across the table as she shares in detail the hot chemistry between them at the dance. It’s as if I’m sitting across from an older version of Adrian. My fears lesson with her every word. I think this will be a good match.
“Odessa shared very little with me,” Alma leans towards me from her side of the table and lowers her voice a bit. “Are you excited about your pregnancy? Do you plan to raise the baby?”
Just like Adrian, Alma holds nothing back. I sip my water as I search for the difficult answers. I decide honesty is important if I am to live with this stranger. “I didn’t plan to become pregnant. Excited isn’t the first word that comes to mind. Overwhelmed, scared, and stressed are a few of the feelings constantly swarming in my head.” I take a deep breath in an attempt to open the tightness in my throat. “I didn’t want to become pregnant at eighteen but finding myself in my current situation I want to keep our baby.”
I scan surrounding tables to ensure other patrons are not listening to our conversation. “The father is my best friend. I plan to tell him about our baby later. He’s chasing a dream, and I can’t rip that away from him. I have no doubt he would drop everything and support us. One day in the future, I will give him that opportunity. For now, I plan to do the best I can on my own.”
“What about your family? Memphis mentioned you are an only child, but what of your parents?” Instead of Adrian, Alma now resembles Memphis.
“I am an only child and my parents are only children.” I fight the urge to rant negatively about my mother. Sometimes my rage outweighs my rational mind. “My dad passed when I was thirteen. My mother hasn’t coped well since then. She struggles with depression and will not be helping me with the baby.” If I live with Alma, I know I will need to share more about my relationship with my mother. In this moment it doesn’t seem appropriate.
Alma places her wrinkled hand upon mine on the table. “From what I know of your academic ability and in meeting you today, I have no doubt you can handle this on your own until you are ready to let your friend in. I sense your fortitude. Although you haven’t shared in detail, your eyes divulge you’ve experienced hardship. You have prevailed for eighteen years, you are a survivor.”
Her words comfort. I desperately fight the tears pricking the back of my eyes and my sinuses. It’s too early to blame them on pregnancy hormones. I deflect the topic from me. “Have you discussed a tenant with your family?” Please take the bait. No more about my situation. It’s too new and I haven’t come to terms with every facet of it. I need time to adjust before I open my chest and share all of my secrets and fears.
“My son, Trenton, attempts to assume the role as head of our family in these few months since my husband passed.” Alma sighs while fiddling with her butter knife. “He doesn’t like the idea of me remaining in my home alone. He coerces my daughters to urge me to move into an assisted living community.” She chuckles. “That’s just a fancy word for a nursing home. I don’t need that. I’m healthy, active, and in control of all of my faculties. I know they worry about my living alone. My involvement in the church and community should be enough to ease their worries, but they are persistent.”
Odessa excuses herself to the restroom. Alma slides closer to me. “I miss my husband. I love my home. It’s full of memories of my babies and now my grandchildren. I can’t box those up and take them with me. Every dent in the woodwork and scratch on the hardwood is a precious memory to me. I’ll admit the house it much too large for one person. Heck, it’s too big for two.” She genuinely smiles at me. “I’m sure my oldest daughter, Taylor, reached out to Odessa. They went to high school together. When Odessa mentioned the opportunity for me to help a promising scholar attain her degree, I saw it as a solution to continue living the life I love while sharing my love with another.”
“My children may not like a stranger living in my home. Trenton will blow a gasket.” She smiles fondly thinking of the son. “He only means to protect me, but I’m about to remind him of his place in our family. I am his mother and he is my child. I’m sure the time will come when he will need to control my life, but I am not ready to give up just yet.”
Her smirk is that of a defiant teenager. I fear Trenton is in for a long battle with his mother. I’m glad she continues to battle after the loss of her husband. I wish my mother had half of the strength I’ve witnessed in Alma today.
Before I know it, the check has been paid and Odessa announces she needs to return to campus. I love Alma. I can see myself living with her, spending time with her, and being happy.
“I would like to propose the two of you spend a couple of hours together at Alma’s home today.” Odessa’s eyes dart between Alma and me. “Then, take a day or two to think it over before you let me know your decision.” She flashes an encouraging smile our way.
Alma’s eyes look to mine. “Madison, I would love to show you my home and visit this afternoon.” I nod.
Odessa suggests Alma ride back to the office with us. Then, I can drive Alma home and leave from her house later this afternoon. I’m nervous for Alma to see my old car but realize I’m a college student; she expects me to drive an old car.
Alma’s house is absolutely adorable. The two-story exterior is neat as a pin. I can tell it’s been re-sided recently with fresh paint to the trim and shutters. The wrap around porch, complete with pillars and a porch swing, perfectly finish its curb appeal.
The interior is decorated with comfortable furnishings, family photos, and thriving house plants. Alma explains her bedroom moved into the back dining room a few years ago as the kids worried about their parents climbing the stairs each day. The kitchen is updated with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. She seems to climb the stairs with ease. I understand why her children might worry but am glad to see Alma is indeed active.
She states that I would have my choice of the four bedrooms and three bathrooms if I choose to move in. The rooms are completely furnished with queen-size beds, dressers, bedside tables, lamps, and armoires. The color schemes are neutral, modern, and match the quilts that adorn the beds. One bathroom contains a glass-enclosed shower, the other a clawfoot tub with a tile shower stall in the corner. I know which bed and bathroom I will choose.
“Any questions about the house?” Alma asks as we return to the first floor.
“Alma, I want to be honest with you,” I begin. “I enjoy your company, and I love the house.” I like the soft smile my words bring to her face. “I only found out about the pregnancy last week. As I mentioned earlier, it’s all new to me, and I’m scrambling to see if attending college is still an option for me.”
Alma interrupts my confession. “Would you like a drink, maybe some water?”
“I’d love a water.”
I join her in the kitchen. With water in hand, I continue at the kitchen island. “If I told the father about the baby, he would throw away his dreams and take care of me. I can’t allow him to do that. I won’t let him give up everything for me.” I sip my water. “I already have enough credits, so I will be a junior this fall. I need only complete my final two years to graduate.” I search my brain for anything else I should share.
She pats my hand upon the marble countertop. “Let’s find a comfy chair, dear.” I follow her back to the living room with water in my shaking hand. I really want this to work out. “I’ve shared my children’s fears of my living alone so many miles away from them. I’m fortunate to be in excellent health. My husband left me financially secure. I enjoy shopping, dining out, going to movies, and attending church.” She sighs. “By allowing a college student to move in, my children will gain peace of mind, I can continue living the life I love, and I receive a new friend. I’ve enjoyed our time together today. I want to offer you the opportunity to live with me while you attend college. I will not ask you to do chores or nurse me—I don’t need that.” She chuckles. “I have a cleaning lady visit twice a week. In exchange for room and board, I only need you to ease my children’s worries. During our weekly calls, from time to time, you could say hello, and let them know all is good.”
“Alma, I can’t live here for free, and I can’t let you buy my groceries.”
“Madison, I am a mother and a grandmother. I love being a mother and as you will soon learn, you can’t turn it off. Your living here will give me a purpose again. My late husband was a very successful surgeon. Trust that supplying meals for two instead of one will not inconvenience me.” She smiles, morphing her voice from stern to calm. “We can cook together if you would like. The cost of remaining in my home is so much lower than the exorbitant amounts they charge to live in a retirement village.”
I am grateful for the offer. With a baby on the way, not paying for meals would be helpful. A bubble of excitement swells in my belly. I really want to live here. I really want to help Alma by keeping her company. I know she will be helping me much more than I help her.
“If the offer still stands, I would love to live with you.”