Jeanne and Colette looked in the cupboards. The kitchen contained pots, pans, flatware, dishes, a pitcher and tall glasses. The laundry room, which also stored gardening supplies, opened into the backyard. Jeanne swung Colette in the hammock a few minutes.
Inside again, they spent a while in each room and Jeanne imagined for Colette how their life would run day to day—in Colette’s bedroom and Jeanne’s with dimity curtains on the window; the things they would cook and eat (“We’ll need to buy cookbooks,”); Jeanne would buy flowers to grow near the front door. “Geraniums,” she said. “You can pick which ones, Colette. Red, pink, or white.”
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Jeanne poured them each a glass of water. “Ready to go shopping, honey? We need groceries and clothes, books, music, maybe some DVDs.”
“And the sprinkler?” Colette had noticed one in the lawn. Tomorrow she wanted to run through the spray of water same here as at home.
“This is home now. We’ll get you a bathing suit.”
Saying, “This is home,” chilled Jeanne’s bones. Settling in here where the former occupants had left no trace, not even hair-bands or hand lotion or a box of baking soda, unnerved her.
Driving away from her old life had been easy. But the easier Kevin made starting a new life, the dizzier Jeanne felt. She and Colette should rejoice in so much promise ahead. But Jeanne recognized in the pristine air traces of nameless betrayals.
Kevin had drawn maps with numbered directions to the grocery store, to Wal-Mart, and J.C. Penny’s. Finding a paper clip in his brief case, he had attached his business card with his cell phone number. “Call any time with any question. Any question.” He would return at noon with the spare television.
Jeanne bought entire starter wardrobes for herself and Colette, without either of them bothering to take clothes off and try others on. If they weren’t right, Jeanne would return them. But they were fine; she could tell. She bought sheets, blankets, two comforters, and finally, the latest laptop.
At Hy-Vee she bought flour, sugar, spices, and herbs, plus fresh groceries for the week.
When Kevin arrived the next day, Colette had already eaten her lunch and was sucking on a cherry popsicle. Jeanne and Kevin ate tabouli and gazpacho soup she had made last night. Thanking her, Kevin covered her hand. Then, excusing himself, he left the room. Jeanne was standing near the built-in bookcases when he returned, asking to see her laptop.
Naturally, the cable installer was late. Jeanne’s face kept bobbing too near Kevin’s. She grew elated looking at him until she realized what she was doing. Embarrassed, she inched away from him and stared at her hands. Except Kevin soon slid back into view. Her eyes kept drifting toward his generous mouth.
Colette was jumping on the couch and Jeanne’s lapse in respect startled her. “Honey, don’t jump on the couch here. It’s new.”
Kevin waved his hand. “Let her jump. Annabelle jumps everywhere.”
Finally, a pimply young man arrived and hooked up the television. Kevin wanted Jeanne to have the gamut of channels—he’d pay for it. No, she would.
Jeanne didn’t watch much television but couldn’t argue. Her pretense of normalcy was too exhausting.
So she let Kevin pay for cable TV. After which, he apologized for leaving so soon, but he had clients waiting. Jeanne followed him to the door but somehow he managed to lay his palm gently between her shoulder blades. If weren’t for Colette and the cable installer, Jeanne would have sunk to the floor.
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