Part One — You Too?

While waiting for Jason to get home, Amy decided to fire up the fire pit. Not because it’s cold at night, but because of everything else out and about, the things throughout the air, the things crawling at your feet. A handful of peppermint for the spiders and crawly things, a few sprigs of citronella to keep the flying things away, the mosquitoes and such. But most importantly, her sage plant, to keep away the bad stuff.

Because when Jason got home, Amy felt it immediately. Negative waves.

He didn’t want to do the bathroom estimate. Neither did she, honestly. The difference was that if they canceled, Jason thought that would be the end of it. It wasn’t. He had a tone about it too, probably because the shower estimate man was due to arrive soon. He asked if she was ready to cancel. Flat out, no.

He looked at her, smirked, shrugged, and let out a deep sigh.

So Amy went and sat on the back porch most of the hot day, under the awning, looking out into the forest. She missed the days of sitting on that porch listening to the sirens, watching everything begin to come together. Now she was outside at the table in a navy sundress, listening to the river, watching it all fall apart. Ninety-one degrees, 4:44 in the afternoon.

All she wanted to know was how much this would cost. They were going to fix this place up no matter what. Plan. Upgrade, period. Put every extra penny into it. Stop dilly-dallying. Do this right. This was her life, her future. This was her plan, as of today. Who knew where she’d be in a year? Not her. There was one snag, she wasn’t leaving her garden. It was just an estimate, and a pain in her side.

Plan, plan, plan. Hence the shower estimate, today at three. Jason would be home in about two hours, and she was fairly sure he’d forgotten she’d even scheduled it. Not entirely her fault, the computer had a way of catching you the second you paused to look, and then, that was that.

This had happened to her once before, and it turned into a wonderful thing. She thought maybe this would too. Jason wouldn’t be happy about it, she was sure he’d forgotten, so she’d wait until he got home and hit him with the news the moment he walked in. It kept him on his toes. He needed a plan too. This was only the beginning.

Then the bathroom people called, about an hour before they were due, to cancel. They tried to reschedule for Monday. Amy decided she’d hold off telling them where they now stood on her list. She had no time for it. They’d need to find someone else.

From the moment she got in the car until they got home, there was a strange, uncomfortable feeling. She kept watching, mostly to make sure Jason stayed on the road and held a steady speed. He drifted instead, lost in thought.

Plan, plan, plan. Always have a plan. With or without you.

Part Two — Oh Canada!

They had a good weekend. It started off rough when Amy stepped outside, a scratchy throat, burning eyes, the works. Smoke from the wildfires in Canada had drifted all the way into southeast Michigan, and it was bad. She felt for Canada, and hoped for rain, both for the fires and to settle the smoke here.

No staying outside that day. So they went to see the new Matt Damon film instead, a good movie, a long one, and that was fine, she could always watch Matt Damon. They got there early, but the theater filled up fast. She was full on popcorn before the movie even started, holding onto a two-thirds-full bucket of the movie theater kind, oily fake butter, a few shakes of salt, the kind you can’t stop eating until you feel sick. Not far in, she finished off a roll of Rolos too. The seats reclined, the air was fresh and cool and smoke-free, pure heaven. She even dozed for a second here and there, expected, given the popcorn coma.

Then, in a quiet moment, a bang went off in the film, loud enough that her whole body jumped out of the seat. Popcorn went everywhere. The woman next to her jumped just from watching Amy jump, easily the funniest part of the whole movie. She is, after all, her mother’s daughter. It used to drive her crazy watching her own mom fall asleep after popcorn at every single movie. Now here she was, doing the same thing.

They came home right after, and Amy fell asleep at her desk, then woke up to a much less smoky day. They went over to help the kids with their yard, Amy’s idea. She told Trevor the first step to a happy home is taking care of the life around it, since the life around you does the same in return. Teamwork. They trimmed, whipped, swept, and mowed the whole thing, then came home to tend their own yard.

While trimming her herbs and pansies, next to the peppermint that was growing wild, Amy found herself wondering what it would be like to leave her garden. At one point she’d been sure she never could. Now she wasn’t so sure of that certainty. Things were different. Maybe now was actually the right time to move ahead, the only time. Leave it for someone who needs it. That would be for later, though. For now, she’s still busy tending it. Pull, pull, pull. Rake, rake, rake.

She slept like a rock until she woke a few hours later, hot then cold, needing the bathroom, and couldn’t find her glasses, so she felt her way through the trailer to the door. She realized she hadn’t had the drip-drip-drip issue in quite some time. She’s glad to be off that medicine. Almost everything is getting better.

The air was still a little hazy, fans running, front door needing to be opened. She’d worked the back of the property yesterday, the front today. But first, a shower, long overdue. She wanted the hot water running down her back to her feet for at least an hour, or until it ran cold. She needed to wash off the sweat and the smoke.

Part Three — What Comes Around

Today she needed to reach New Song and set up another appointment with the minister. She wanted a long, honest conversation about what she’s been finding, feeling, and wondering, about what it would actually mean to be part of this group. But first: did she even want to be included?

That question was still sitting with her when Jason came out and asked if she knew what time it was. Odd question. She checked the clock: 3:23. He was heading to work without a shower, he’d woken up late, and afterward he planned to golf eighteen holes with Jeff.

She couldn’t help worrying about what that would do to his neck. He’d had real numbness in his neck and shoulder, pain in his arm, elbow, thumb, lower back, nearly everywhere, and the Gabapentin his doctor prescribed for the nerve pain was making him feel off. She wished he’d call the doctor, skip the golf clubs for once. It was the same argument they kept having in different forms: her, already picturing how she’d care for him if it ever came to surgery for a slipped disk, and him, heading out to golf anyway.

She was still turning that over when, around four, Logan came home early, something he’d been doing more often lately. She was on her phone and thought it was Jason walking up, he sounded just like his dad. It startled her when she turned and saw it was actually her son. “Hey Logan, I thought you were Dad. What’s up? Why are you home early?”

Five minutes later, she was making him chocolate milk and a sandwich to settle his nerves. They sat in his room and talked for a while about the depression he’d been carrying, a small check-in, not a long conversation, but long enough to see that Logan needed a little direction. It ended with Amy telling him he really should take some time and go stay with Aaron and Kelly for a bit, Aaron always leaves the door open for that. Logan should take him up on it. He needs it, needs family besides just his parents right now.

After their visit, Amy went back outside. Typical.