Fallen Woman(5)

The moment I was out the front door, I removed my shoes and carried them in my hand on my way to the bus stop. The warm concrete felt good on the soles of my feet, and the air felt better than the confines of leather.

“Hey, Gia.” The same buttery tone called to me from the entrance to the building. I stopped, more from the use of a nickname I hadn’t heard since Ryan died than Jase summoning me. “Where are you headed?” He had a briefcase in hand and looked smart in his suit, but my attention gravitated to his steely gray eyes.

“Home.”

“Would you like to go get a drink? There’s a group of us going to happy hour at Fifth’s across the street?” He appeared hopeful, and I hated to turn him down, not because I was interested, but merely because I craved adult interaction.

“I wish I could, but I have to get home.” I should’ve offered an explanation, something more than blowing him off, but I wasn’t ready to reveal anything personal.

He threw his hand up and pointed with his thumb. “The parking garage is that way. Come on; I’ll walk with you.”

“I’m on the bus, but thank you.” Glancing at the huge clock in the center of town, I realized if I didn’t leave soon, I would miss my line and be stuck here for an hour. “I really do have to go.” I waved and turned without any further discussion. I wasn’t interested in explaining my circumstances to anyone.

“Gia, wait,” he hollered behind me, but I kept moving as though I hadn’t heard him. If I’d turned around, he likely would’ve offered me a ride I couldn’t accept. This was best.

I barely made it to the stop in time and arrived home exhausted. I opened our apartment and threw my purse and shoes inside before knocking on Miss Pearl’s door. She greeted me with a horde of children, mostly mine, at her feet—all smiles and covered in flour.

“We made dinner, Mommy.” The girls grinned at me from the legs of our elderly neighbor. I watched as Emmy yawned and could see the glassy look in her eyes. Long days were harder for her than they were for the other two.

“Oh, that’s exciting.” I squatted down to wipe the powdery substance from Emmy’s face. “Are you girls ready to go home?”

“Nonsense. You’ve worked all day, and they’ve made you dinner. You come in and eat.”

“Miss Pearl, we can’t intrude any more on your day.” This woman must’ve thought I was a total freeloader.

“Table’s already set. You’s got plenty o’ time to eat and get the kids in the bath before bed.” She took me by the arm and pulled me into her tiny apartment. It was no different than mine in layout, but somehow, hers felt like a home—she’d made it warm and inviting. Ours was cold and sterile. With no money to do anything to it, coupled with the little we had in terms of belongings, the walls stayed white and the place was drab. Miss Pearl’s felt alive.

The portions were small, but the food was incredible. Fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade biscuits. I couldn’t recall having a better meal, nor the last time I’d actually felt full. My kids looked satisfied for the first time in months with full bellies and tired eyes. We all helped Miss Pearl with the dishes and cleaned up.

Standing at the door, Derrick held onto his grandmother while we said goodbye. “Thank you for everything today, Miss Pearl. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“Aww. Sweetheart. I’s just glad I’m here to help. Give Miss Pearl a hug and get those babies in bed.” She squeezed me tightly and directed her attention to Trace, Megan, and Emmy. “Remember, tomorrow we’re bakin’ cookies, so come ready. Be good for your mama.”

I was shocked by the three “yes, ma’ams” I heard following her command, but smiled instead of acknowledging it. They were good kids; this was just a new level of manners they hadn’t been taught.

The rest of the evening, the twins chattered on about Miss Pearl and Derrick. They had gone to the park and fed the ducks old bread, played dress-up, and she let them all help make lunch and dinner. I had no idea how she kept up with the four of them, but whatever she did, she did it right. Emmy fell asleep before the twins ever got a bath, and Megan and Trace each collapsed without a fuss. I opted for the couch instead of the family bed, hoping to get a better night sleep. With Band-Aids on my blisters and ice on my feet, I drifted off.

When my alarm clock went off the next morning, I got up to do it all over again…but this time in flats.

~~~

The first three weeks flew by, each day a repeat of the one before, ending at Miss Pearl’s apartment for a home-cooked meal my children had helped prepare. I had no idea how she wrangled three four-year-olds and a three-year-old to prepare food, but the woman was a saint and we’d all fallen in love with her. She was exactly what I’d envisioned a grandmother should be, but since I never had one and neither had the kids, we had no idea how wonderful it would be. I didn’t know how I had ever survived the last few years without that woman in my life. Somehow, she’d picked up on Emmy’s needs without me mentioning them, and every time I turned around, she was trying a new herbal remedy on my baby. Thus far, nothing had worked, but someone else was helping me fight this battle, and I looked forward to dinner at her table all day.

When I got my first paycheck, I’d planned to do something nice for Miss Pearl, to say thank you for her generosity—not just her time—because she’d basically fed my family and me for three weeks. I was so excited to get paid, but when I opened it and did the rough math in my head, there was virtually nothing left after paying my measly rent, catching up on the utilities, and paying the bare minimum to stay in the specialists’ good graces. I had to have money for the bus every day, which only left me about twenty-five dollars to offer to my only friend.