Providence Ch. 07

Her next stop involved a drive to Regier to look at a car. She was getting nervous driving in her dad's car, knowing it was older and the check engine light never went off, no matter how many times she changed the sensor or took it in to the shop. She felt guilty too, knowing she was about to make a commitment on a car without her husband.

Her head started to hurt and she groaned, annoyed at this new constant companion.

"It's ok, Mari. You know you've gotta do things by yourself now. It's ok, Mari. It's ok, Mari. It's ok.... It's gonna be ok. You can do this. One step at a time, girl. Go in that dealership and show 'em. You got it," she coached herself as tears streamed down her face.

Her breathing started to become ragged and she knew the sobs were coming.

"GODDAMMIT! Stop fucking crying!" she screamed into the steering wheel, prompting a nearby vehicle to honk their horn.

She hadn't realized she'd swerved into the next lane so she corrected immediately.

"Fuck. Get it together," she berated herself.

Ten minutes later, she pulled into the car lot, but before she got out, she took a moment to adjust herself.

"Good morning, ma'am! Are you Mrs. Foster?" the salesman met her outside.

"Hi, yeah, that's me. Are you Gerald?" she asked and shook his hand.

"Yes, ma'am, that's me. Pleased to meet you. Let's head inside, it's gonna be a cold one today!"

Mari followed Gerald inside the dealership. She smiled. She had a good feeling about Gerald when she spoke with him on the phone. He sounded like one of the older men at church -- steady, friendly, honest, and a bit like what she imagined a grandfather would sound like.

Gerald held the door open for her and rushed in front of her to hold out the chair at his desk. "Thank you, Gerald," she said.

"Yes, ma'am. You're welcome. Would you like something to drink before we get started? A bottle of water or a warm cup of joe, maybe?" he offered.

"I'll take a coffee, please sir, if you wouldn't mind," she said, and then added, "No cream or sugar, thank you," after Gerald lingered.

He winked and smiled at her.

"Ha ha! I knew I liked you. Not a lot of my clients take theirs black anymore. It's all these fancy things they want, like nut milk something or other, or one of them truffle powders or something..." he muttered, throwing up his hands as he walked away to fix their drinks.

Mari laughed after him and the sound startled her. She hadn't laughed in weeks, which was surprising and a foreign concept to her. Kenzo had always elicited at least one belly laugh from her every day, and now she hadn't even laughed in a month.

Still... she found herself relaxing in her seat while she waited for Gerald to come back.

She knew she was making a significant investment, and the car she wanted was going to be the most expensive one she'd ever own. Kenzo always poked fun at her regarding her love of station wagons, but he also expressed a fondness for them, reassuring her that it did, in fact, make her an old lady. Mari chortled at that memory.

God, I miss you, Kenz, she reminisced. I wish you were here today, baby. Don't worry... I'll try to get a good deal on it.

Gerald came back holding two paper coffee cups.

"Here you go, Mrs. Foster... careful, it's fresh," he said, slowly handing her the cup.

"Should we get started, or should we wait for Mr. Foster?" he asked.

Mari shook her head slowly. "Um, n-no, that's not necessary, Gerald. We can start."

He regarded her with a soft look and started to look for his paperwork.

"Alright, let's see here... No, not this one. Where are ya, you little stinker...? A-ha! Here we go. Sorry, ma'am, they insist on us keeping things digital but I just can't do it... gotta have me a paper copy too.

Guess us old timers are gonna get left behind... Fine by me. I'm retiring next month. Been doin' this for thirty years. Can't wait to take my wife to the beach and go sit in the sandbar with my grandbabies...

Anyways, my apologies, ma'am. Listening to me blather on about this and that when I know you wanted to see that wagon. Let's go meet her!"

Mari smiled wistfully as she saw that picture in her head. She assured him it was okay and followed him out to the showroom floor. The station wagon, a Volvo, had been a stretch for her.

She'd given up on purchasing it because there were none of them available at any of the other dealerships, and when one happened to pop up, they were too much. But the lawsuit settlement had afforded her the cash to buy it outright, and it barely made a dent in her bank account.

Lifestyles of the rich and widowed, she thought.

"Here she is! She's pretty nice! Glad you called and checked on the stock for these. We just got her in yesterday. Got her cleaned and detailed too -- the dust and grime from the delivery trucks don't do 'em any favors," said Gerald.

"I love it. I've read a bit about them online. Anything else I should know about her before I buy her?" she asked, running her hand along the body lines.

Gerald blinked.

He hadn't expected her to buy it with such immediacy, but he replied, "Well, let's see... she's an expensive gal, wants premium gas, but of course regular works just fine too, she won't mind it.

But you know, I've driven these Volvos and these wagons for three decades, and they've always come through for me. We don't get much snow where we are, but when I lived in New Hampshire these were the only choice for us. I think she'll take care of you, ma'am," he said, finishing the last part of his sentence softly.

He'd seen enough widows to know one.

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MARCH 2023

Isaac bristled. He saw Chris Logan, another single dad from church, approach Mari at a church fellowship lunch.

"Hey, Mari, how's it goin'? Is there anyone sitting here?"" asked Chris.

"Oh, hi, Chris. It's going. You go ahead," Mari shrugged.

Chris and Mari talked a while about the events at the church. Eventually, the conversation dwindled, so she took the opportunity to take a sip of her drink.

"Hey, so, I wondered if I could take you to lunch, sometime?" he asked.

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Lunch? I only have an hour at work. It'll have to be quick, but that sounds nice."

Chris brightened considerably. "Great. How's Tuesday sound?"

She nodded. "Sounds great."

At that point, Mary-Anne Haskins interrupted. "Hey girl, I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to let you know that cake you brought today was DIVINE..."

Chris, having been effectively ousted of the conversation, walked back to his own table. Patrick Allen, Justin Bedford, and Isaac were speaking as Chris pulled up a chair.

"... so it's not like he gunned it, you know, but that was enough to get him a ticket," finished Patrick.

"How's it going, Chris?" asked Justin.

"It's going great. I just got a lunch date with Mari," he said, gesturing with his shoulder.

All their eyebrows shot up.

"Hey dude, that's great," quipped Patrick.

"Do you think it's gonna work out?" asked Justin.

"I don't know. That's why we're getting lunch," shrugged Chris.

"Hey man, you think she's ready for that?" asked Isaac.

Chris held out his hands. "I don't know. She did say yes, so I'm guessing she probably is. I hope so."

Patrick and Justin resumed their previous conversation, but Isaac couldn't concentrate anymore. He didn't know why he didn't feel happy for his friend, but he did look over at Mari.

She sat a few tables away from him and been visited by a steady line of people. He thought he could see an unaffected setting of her face, then remembered she was a natural introvert. She's probably been ready to go home for a while, he mused.

Mari felt someone watching her but tried to focus on the conversation at hand. Maybe conversation's too generous a word.

I haven't been able to edge a word in, she thought, listening to Janice Lopper talk about the latest recipe book and planner she bought.

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APRIL 2023

In the middle of a pile of boxes, there lay Mari sobbing. She couldn't stand to be in her house anymore, so she made the decision to sell it. It pained her to do so, but the house, once a haven for her and her family, now suffocated her.

She'd been able to pack up the kitchen, the living room, and the utility rooms. She'd dreaded going into the children's rooms today and hadn't once gone upstairs these past months. Part of her needed to hold on to the last tangible memory of her children -- the clothes on the floor, a block tower in the middle of the room, various animal figures strewn about haphazardly, and the multitude of "stuffies" on the bed.

Mari laid back, desperately willing the tears to stop to no avail. The whole house screamed in deafening silence, pregnant with loss and grief. Everything was packed up.

It was time to go.

She spent the whole day with the movers, and at four in the afternoon, saw off the moving truck. She sighed and walked back inside.

"Welcome home, Mari," she said bitterly.

She looked around her new home and missed Kenzo. They'd always talked about living in this community. In the first few years of marriage, they'd have weekend dates to Serenbe to pick out their dream houses. Now, she was here, and he wasn't.

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"Wow, Mar, you've outdone yourself! The place looks BOUGIEEEEEEE!" screeched Heather over a plate of noodles.

Mari laughed. "Heather, I can always depend on you to make me feel better about my life choices."

"No Mar, I mean it. The place looks beautiful. Doesn't it, Jake?" she asked her husband.

Jake nodded. He looked at Mari and said, "Mar, it looks like my wife designed her dream house. Trust me... I'm never getting out of here without her jabbing me in the ribs every five seconds 'cause she saw something she liked."

Heather shoved Jake's shoulder and rolled her eyes. Isaac just smiled at their banter. He had to agree. Mari's new house was stunning. He was used to their old house and loved what it represented for him: friendship.

But he understood why she had to go. Everything in the house reminded her of what she lost, and even though most of the same furniture now sat in her new house, it was still a fresh start for her.

The house reminded him of a cottage in the middle of a Nordic forest, except they were in a neighborhood. "A planned community" as the founders liked to call it. The house was a black, two-story minimalist building, with a front lawn hemmed in by a low picket fence. The main level was a ranch, but the lower story was a basement where she stored her family's things she couldn't bear to part with.

The backyard was turned into a courtyard by the previous owners and they'd added a grilling kitchen, pergola, and firepit. Mari added outdoor furniture, curtains around the pergola, plants, a raised-bed garden, and a hammock.

The inside was stunning. Isaac majored in art in college, and although they had different period preferences, he could appreciate her taste in Renaissance and English pastoral style. She surprised him at every turn, it seemed, exceeding his expectations or disproving his assumptions.

In this case, he thought she would be more into modern styles, but one look at her kitchen would dispel that immediately. In her old house, everything was white: the backsplash, the countertops, and the cabinets, accentuated by stainless steel appliances. He remembered Kenzo called it "the food lab" before.

In this one, she opted for rich oak cabinets, a slate grey island, and white countertops. The previous owners must have been avid chefs: a professional Wolf gas range dominated one side of the wall, an industrial-style fridge was built into the cabinets, and the dishwasher, drink fridge, and built-in ice machine completed the appliance suite. The whole kitchen felt homey, lived-in, and understatedly elegant.

Hmm, chuckled Kenzo. Her whole house felt like that.

That's because she's like that, Isaac, he told himself.

He looked around, taking in everything during Mari's tour of the house.

"Mari, if I didn't know you any better, I would accuse you of hiring a designer to put this together and passing it off as your own work," he said, complimenting her.

She blushed. "Thanks. It was fun. Helped keep my mind off things."

Heather leaned over. "Hey... so how was 'lunch?'" she asked conspiratorially.

Mari shot her a questioning look. "Huh?"

"Y'know, with Chris?" she prodded.

"OH! Yeah, it was nice," Mari said, finally remembering.

He couldn't help it -- Isaac leaned slightly forward. He'd been curious, but couldn't think of an appropriate way to broach the topic.

"So... that's it? Just nice?" Heather smiled softly.

Mari shrugged. "Yeah. We talked about his kids, work, adjusting to new schedules."

Heather laughed. "Ha! I guess we're not calling you Mrs. Logan anytime soon!"

Mari laughed back, albeit weakly. "No, guess not."

Jake asked, "So really, Mari, are you okay? Would you rather not go out right now? 'Cause we'd be happy to be your gatekeepers. We can be rude so you don't have to be."

She smiled at him. "No," she chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm alright, really I am. I didn't think it was romantic, I thought he was just being friendly. I guess now, thinking back on it... I probably didn't give him that impression..."

Isaac sat back and imperceptibly breathed out a sigh of relief.

"We'll see, I guess. I don't think I'm ready yet, but I'll know when I am," she concluded.