Possession

Retirement

2006

The car pulled into a long dirt driveway and Jean stepped out. She stood for a moment as the car pulled away, admiring the long stretch of wood fence and moss swinging from the trees. The branches waved, beaconing her in the direction of a two story white house, the levels stacked on top of each other like a wedding cake. It was a diminutive, homespun estate, with horses wandering the field on her right, swatting hot flies from each other's mouths with their tails.

She walked with her suitcase towards the front door, but before she reached it someone came out. The dark skinned woman, wearing a dark purple dress, put her hands on the back side of her waist and stood next on the porch as Jean dragged her suitcase behind her in the dirt. She caught her breath as the woman's face came into view, her hair long and braided, her face thicker and older now but still as smooth as a night's sky and her eyes round and soft.

Jean felt frail as she reached the steps, her breath hard to reach and her mouth dry. Her eyes couldn't stop looking at the woman, no matter how painful.

"Tam.." she breathed.

She saw the woman's mouth open up and uncertainty afflicted her face as her lips trembled a little.

"Let's get your things inside," she said.

They sat at the table in the kitchen. Newly remodeled and glossy, Jean saw her reflection in every blue and white tile. Tam served her a cappuccino. Jean didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't care for cream anymore. Tamara stirred sugar into her iced tea, watching the cubes knock into the sugar grains.

"I'm sorry about David," she said. "When you told me on the phone I really couldn't believe it."

"That's not true," Jean replied. "You know it could come at any minute."

Tamara looked up at her and realized the comment wasn't a challenge. Jean looked fragile, her hands wrapped around the mug for dear life.

"He found me about five years ago," Tamara said. "Reached out to me, just to ask if I needed anything. I was suspicious but after a while I realized it was just David. He has a comforting way about him."

"He was..." Jean replied, her voice trembling a little.

"David said recently got a call from one of your sons, I guess you have been stirring things up around there. He was really conflicted but he said he had to go there and see what happened. He couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. He kind of saw it as a chance to get the monkey off his back."

Jean's eyes were blank as they stared at the wood grain on the table.

"I got him killed," she said quietly. "I was never anything but a horrible person to him. Cheated on him, made everything go to shit, then I did it again. When I landed the plane I had a voicemail. Several of them. And... I knew. It was the hardest thing I ever did..." she lifted her head, her face white. "I said 'I can't come there, I'm not around'. To my son. Again. Cause if I go there I'm going to end up like him. Because of what I did..."

They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps stampeding down the stairs in the front of the house. Two young, thin black girls appeared at the foot of the stairs as Tamara yelled at them to slow down. She told them to take their playing outside and they left, with a 'yes ma'am' and a quiet hustle.

"I fostered some girls," she explained. "Todd was around for a while but we had to go our separate ways after I got out of all that. I was lonely, needed something."

"Children are great," Jean agreed.

"It's the best thing I did in my life," she said, nodding. She felt old and wise, and Jean wanted to suck all that knowledge out of her, the things she should have learned but learned the reverse of. It felt shameful to be in her presence.