4. “Eleanor Rigby”

4

"ELEANOR RIGBY"

THE BEATLES

T wo hours later, Kari found me sweating and swearing in the front yard. If I were being judged by the detritus of my efforts—a trowel, a hoe, a rake, two different shovels, three yard waste bags filled to the brim, and a golden retriever under a pear tree—it would seem as if I'd unearthed a botanical masterpiece. Unfortunately for me (and my neighbors), I'd barely made a dent. I was sitting in the middle of the lawn with my head resting on my knees when Kari's flip-flopped and impeccably maintained feet and Roxy's furry front paws came into view on my left.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

I lifted my head to the sight of her voluminous curls framed by the midday sun. Shielding my eyes, I stood, a symphony of stiffness echoing from my joints.

"Me. I'm cookin' out here. It's supposed to get up to ninety degrees later today, but it feels like we are there already."

Kari squatted down to bury her face in Roxy's neck, and because their hair was about the same color, it looked as if Roxy had grown an enormous goiter. I held in a laugh, knowing my friend would not appreciate the parallel as much as I did.

"Basically. It's about eighty-nine right now, which makes me wish I owned something other than yoga pants. I was going to walk to the studio before I had to start teaching to try and get a little solo practice in before things get busy. I gave myself a few extra minutes so I could stop by and say hi, and here you are… So, hi ."

"Hey there, sunshine." I wiped my filthy hands on my shorts and caught her in a hug as she stood, having lost Roxy's attention to a squirrel that had been evading her all morning.

As we stepped apart, she held out her right hand to give me a book I hadn't noticed she'd been holding, and I was instantly as excited as Roxy with a new tennis ball. I took it from her and flipped it over, groaning inwardly as I read the title. It sounded like a major snooze fest: Gratitude Journal .

"I saw an ad for that on Instagram and thought it would be good for you to do a little journaling. I know when I focus more on the positives in my life, they start to at least feel like they outweigh the negatives." She took a step back to get a better look at the mess I'd made in my front yard. "What have you got going on here?"

The journal in my hand felt like a bowling ball. "My parents stopped by this morning to read me the riot act about the state of my life. The front yard was a topic of conversation, and it felt like something I could tackle without too much psychological damage. I may have overestimated my abilities. And forgot that I'm fifty-five. Yeesh. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. Any chance the boys are free today? I have some cash burning a hole in my pocket."

Kari's laugh poured over me like cooling rain. It's always the one thing I can depend on to make everything at least feel better.

"Oh, you can bet they're free today. They need to finish their shopping lists before they head off to big boy school in a few weeks. They can go Christmas wrap their dorm rooms until they're blue in the face. Anyway, I'll text them as soon as I get to the studio and have them come over to help. Does your lawn mower have gas in it?"

The panicked look on my face probably answered that question.

"Never mind, they will come over fully loaded with everything they'll need to get this yard in tip-top condition. Do not pay them. This is a punishment."

I'd never been brave enough to argue with Kari, so I simply nodded my head. "You got it, boss. Am I allowed to feed them? Should I just throw some bread and water onto the porch?"

"Go ahead and joke, chucklehead. You know exactly what I'm going through. I was here to witness the shit show when your kids were teenagers, remember? So work them like rented mules and send them home when your yard is a contender for Home I was just taking a break from yard work."

"Oh, sweetie, I have had the best week, and it's even better now that I hear your voice. But first, what are you doing with your yard? Something fabulous, I hope."

I sat on the top step and surveyed the day's progress. "Well, I wouldn't say fabulous yet, but it's somewhat improved. Matt and Alex will be over shortly to help me. They were up to their usual hijinx yesterday, so Kari's sending them here to work off the fourteen double rolls of Hallmark wrapping paper they used to cover her family room while she was at work."

Uncle Mike broke into one of his trademark laughs, and I could see him in my mind's eye, shoulders heaving up and down, eyes closed, head thrown back. In my family, laughter was a full-body experience. He and my dad grew up in a house that didn't inspire much joviality, and through their experiences, they'd learned that laughing was better than crying, and they had taught me the same mindset. While they employed a little off-color humor to lighten the mood, I'd taken that one step further to practical jokes. A laugh at your expense costs you nothing, right? Even one at my expense. That was fine, too.

"Those boys are the best, and their personalities are all yours. Kari must rue the day she decided to use your eggs," he added wryly once he'd gotten control of himself.

"Well, apparently, I was to blame for yesterday's prank, but I seem to have been forgiven. They're serving out their sentences behind a lawnmower and weed whacker in my yard, and not a moment too soon. It's a hell of a mess. Not unlike me."

My uncle cleared his throat.

Oh, shit. Here it comes.

"Let me tell you about my week, and then we'll get into all that. So, Chris and I are taking things to the next level, not to sound like I'm twenty-four. He's asked me to move in with him since I'm there all the time anyway, and his place is closer to the store."

Uncle Mike and his partner, Chris, are both clothes horses and, a year into their relationship, had opened up "A Dash of Flair", a haberdashery in downtown Dunedin. Chris resigned as VP of his bank and my uncle wheeled way back on his successful interior design business in order to give the store more of their attention, and their sacrifices and dedication had seemingly paid off.

"I guess by now he knows most of my quirks, and if two years together wasn't enough time to figure them all out, he'll just have to adjust."

"Uncle Mike! That is awesome news. I'm so happy for you guys. I have so many questions. When are you moving? When are you putting your house up for sale? Do I have time to come down for one last visit?"

"Take a beat there, Paige. Deep breaths. One question at a time. Ok, where do I begin? When? Ummm… soon-ish. I've got so much stuff in this house that I would basically need to start packing right this very minute and hope to be finished by next July. Every room is fully furnished. That's six bedroom sets. No. Eight. The third floor has two. On top of that, every bathroom is stocked with everything a person could possibly need. What would I even do with all this stuff? It's going to have to stay… Which brings me to the reason for my call. How long do you have?"

"I'm fine for right now. I'll need to hop off once Matt and Alex get here, but that could be a while. They are seventeen and it is only one p.m. Practically the middle of the night for them."

"Ha. True true. Ok, so I wish we were having this conversation face to face, but… I don't even know where to start…"

I suddenly felt a knot in my stomach. "Eeeergh…"

"It's nothing bad, I promise. I'll share more soon, but what I really called for was to tell you I am moving in with Chris this weekend?—"

Uncle Mike, that is incredible news! I'm so happy for you," I gushed.

"I knew you would be. But, I am also calling to ask—no. Beg you to come down here for an extended visit. I don't want to leave the house empty, and I have zero—I mean zero —interest in renting it to strangers. But no pressure."

Matt and Alex came huffing up the sidewalk at that moment, pushing and pulling an impressive collection of lawn equipment. I needed a moment to digest the (very one-sided) conversation I'd just had, so their timing could not have been more perfect.

"Uncle Mike, I… I don't even know what to say. Thank you? That sounds like a really awesome idea, but can I have a few days to think it over? I'd have to check with Kari to make sure she could keep an eye on things here. Honestly, my first instinct is to say, ‘yes, please.' and hit the road, but this is a lot to digest. Actually, the boys just got here. Give me thirty seconds to get them set up, and then we can talk more about… this."

"Actually, honey, I pulled up in front of the store a few minutes ago and Chris is staring daggers out the window at me. I'd better go fold some socks. I know I just shocked you, and now I'm hanging up, but I wanted to give you a chance to marinate in the idea a bit, but hurry up. Oh, and say hi to the boys for me. Those two crack me up. Ok, I've got to run in. I'll talk to you soon. Love you. "

"I love you, too, Uncle Mike, but what should I say? Thank you? I'm lost here."

His phone disconnected from his car's Bluetooth, and I could picture the huge smile on his face as he headed into the store, knowing he'd dropped this bomb on me. It was a good bomb, but explosive nonetheless. His voice came through again, clearer since he was speaking directly into the phone, but a little jilted and breathless from what was probably a hurried walk from the car to the store.

"Say you'll give it some serious thought. You'd be doing me a huge favor, but I have a feeling you're going to love it here and won't want to leave. Consider it an open-ended residency request. I wouldn't ask you to uproot your life if it wasn't important to me. On that note, I love you. I'm hanging up."

The shuffling on the line ended and I looked at my screen. He had indeed hung up.

What the hell was that?