A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [53]
“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
“But the thing is, it’s gotta at least look like it’s worth something if I’m ever gonna sell it.”
“You’re going to sell the Market?” A lump rose into Gordon’s throat.
“Sure. If I can find someone stupid enough to buy it.”
Lisa called a few days later. Jimmy’s eleventh-birthday party was going to be two weeks from Sunday. Dennis could pick him up, or he could take the bus if he’d rather. “And if there’s anyone you’d like to bring, Gordon, feel free. We’ll probably be outside, so the more the merrier!”
“Oh, okay,” he said, trying to hide his dread.
“Oh, and another thing, Gordon. I meant to call the other day and tell you, but guess who I ran into at the mall? Delores Dufault! It was just a quick visit, but I enjoyed seeing her so much. She’s so nice!”
“Yes. Yes, she is.”
“And I told her how much I miss her. I used to love our rides up to see you, she’d be so funny. Well, anyway, she said you’d been to her house for dinner a couple weeks ago.”
“Yes. That’s right. I did.”
“Was it good? I’ll bet she’s a great cook.”
“Yes, she is. It was good. It was very good.” What he remembered was the sweetness of the strawberries and his excitement at the prospect of being with Jilly, who he thought about all the time, last night even dreamed about.
“So you had a good time?”
“Yes, very nice.” He smiled, thinking of the dream. Jilly and his mother were playing cards on the deck of a dry-docked boat overlooking the ocean, where the waves had been too loud for him to hear their conversation.
“But you haven’t called her or anything since then, right?”
“Well, I’ve been busy. I . . .”
“I know, that’s what I told her. I said how busy you’ve been and how maybe she should just give you a ring. But then I felt bad. She said she’d stopped calling because she didn’t want to bother you anymore.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t know. I have been putting in a lot of time at the Market.”
“Why don’t you give her a call? Just say how busy you’ve been. Ask her what’s going on, and . . . well, you’ll know what to say.” She paused. “You shouldn’t be alone so much, Gordon. You need someone to share things with.”
It was early morning. The cloudless sky was a brilliant blue, and the sun already felt hot. Gordon knelt in the damp grass, measuring out a quarter cup of fertilizer from the hardware store. The label said to pour it in a circle around the base of each bush. That done, he tilted the old watering can and thoroughly soaked the harsh-smelling granules into the humusy black soil. Every day the bushes were greener and fuller. He could almost feel their gratitude after so many years of neglect. Sometimes when he was done he would glance back, half expecting an anxious voice begging him to stay. He gathered up his tools and started toward the house.
“Hey! What’re you doing?” Jada Fossum called from across the street.
“Good morning,” he answered, then continued inside as if he couldn’t hear her still calling to him. Last week, she had asked him to bring her home some milk, bread, and peanut butter. He had almost said no because she had never paid him for the other groceries. But he did, and then when he brought them to her, she said she’d have to pay him later, her mother wasn’t there and she didn’t have any money. Two days later she came into the store and bought ten dollars’ worth of food, for which she had only three dollars and fifty cents. The rest must have fallen out of her pocket, she said. Serena asked her which things she wanted to put back. Gordon kept sweeping. He didn’t know what to say when she tapped him on the shoulder and asked to borrow the six fifty difference. She’d pay him back that night, swear to God.
“No, you can’t do that!” Serena told her. “You can’t come in here and be hitting people up for money!”
“I’m not hitting people up!” Jada spat back. “I know him. He’s my friend. He can help me if he wants.” Edging closer, she peered up at him. “I really need