Don’t Let Me Go(77)

He may or may not have dozed briefly. It was hard to tell.

? ? ?

Mrs. Hinman came knocking at about half past noon.

It was a small knock, not much greater in volume than a mouse inside a wall. But she spoke to him through the door at the same time. Because she’s a kindred spirit, Billy thought. She’d hate it just as much if someone came to her door unannounced.

“It’s just Mrs. Hinman from upstairs,” she said.

Billy sighed, rose, and pulled on his robe. He opened the door for her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I wake you from a nap? My apologies. So long as you’re up now, may I come in?”

I’m sensing an agenda, Billy thought. It just isn’t natural for Mrs. Hinman to seek out my company. And humbly, at that. Something must be up.

“Please do,” he said, standing back and opening the door widely.

It didn’t pay to argue, he’d decided. You can bemoan the fact that your once-peaceful sanctuary has turned into an intersection on a busy human freeway, but there isn’t much to be done. Just sigh, open the door, and let them talk until they seem done. It’s easier that way.

Mrs. Hinman limped into his living room carrying a folded garment of some sort.

Billy pointed to the chair, but she did not take the suggestion.

“I made this for Grace,” she said, unfolding the garment.

It appeared to be a wrap-around tunic, in Grace’s favorite blue, with a sash to tie it around her waist.

“She’ll like that,” Billy said.

“Do you really think so? Oh, I certainly hope…She didn’t exactly pick it out. But it just seemed so…Grace. It can be worn as a dress, just by itself, or it can be worn over jeans, or especially I thought it might be nice if she made it into an outfit with tights. I thought it might be a good outfit for her dancing, maybe even something she could wear for her big performance, though I don’t know. Maybe she has to wear a special costume for that. Do you know? Has she talked that over with you?”

“Sorry, no,” Billy said. “She only talks to me about the dance aspects.”

“I’m knitting her a sweater, too, to take the place of that old one she wears nearly every day. It’s in terrible condition. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

“Hard not to notice,” Billy said. “You can see her elbows right through it.”

A silence fell, during which Billy noted that she was still not sitting down, nor was she telling him why she was telling him all this.

“Why don’t you bring it by after she’s home from school?”

“Well, all right,” she said. “I suppose I could.”

But she didn’t move toward the door.

Just as the silence was becoming unbearably awkward, she said, “I was hoping to have a little talk with you.”

“Got it,” Billy said. “Have a seat. Would you like me to put on a pot of coffee?”

“Oh, no. Not for me, thank you. I go to bed very early. If I drink coffee after noon, it just keeps me awake.”

She still did not sit down.

“Have a seat, at least,” Billy said, feeling the strain of their combined discomfort.

“Hmm,” she said. “I have a bit of an issue with that. My knees are going out on me. And sometimes when I sit down, it’s very difficult and awkward to get up again.”

“I’d be more than happy to give you a hand up,” he said.

“Oh. All right,” she said, heading tentatively for his sofa. “I don’t much like to ask for help. I’m not very good at it. But I guess I didn’t ask in this case. You volunteered, didn’t you?”

She eased herself down carefully, causing Billy to wince from the conveyed sense of her pain. He sat on the other end of the couch.

“I wanted to ask you,” she said, “about all your years of not going outside. I feel I need to understand that better.”

Billy instinctively sat back on the couch to distance himself from her. The cat came ambling into the room, and Mrs. Hinman recoiled.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Can you take him away? I don’t like cats at all.”

“She lives here, though,” Billy said, knowing, as it came out of his mouth, that it sounded and felt more honest than his usual communications. He must have been too exhausted to guard that gate. “I’ll hold her, though, if that’ll make you feel better.”

He snapped his fingers to the cat, and she came to him, and he scooped her up and pressed her to his chest.

“So, where were we?” Mrs. Hinman asked, though Billy doubted she had forgotten. “Oh, yes. About your not going out.”

“The thing is,” he said, “that’s more or less in the past. I’m working through that. I just went out this morning, in fact. I walked all the way down to Grace’s school. That’s ten blocks away.”

“Lovely,” she said. “That’s very good. But I still need to ask you about the time when you didn’t go out at all.”

Billy took a deep breath, and geared up to do something he almost never did: speak rudely to someone.

“I think I’m going to choose not to talk about that,” he said. “It’s a little on the personal side, and it bothers me to be judged for something I’ve worked so hard to overcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”