South of Superior - Ellen Airgood [100]
After a time he seemed to doze off—or surrender to a sort of comatose fugue, Madeline wasn’t sure which—and she fell silent. She ate both sandwiches, slowly, and had his cocoa for dessert. Read the little paper menu the café left folded on every table. Looked out the plate-glass window across the street at the Locks. A freighter was passing through—had been passing in its stately, inimitable way ever since they’d sat down. She stared at it awhile, and at the wall of the building next door, built of blocks that might have been limestone or sandstone—something native, and very old.
The menu said that Sault Ste. Marie was one of the oldest cities in the United States. It was founded by the French in 1668 and named for the rapids of the St. Mary’s river, or le Sault, in French. So this was why everyone said “the Soo.” These facts lent a dignity to the tired old city that Madeline hadn’t accorded it before. She noticed two tattoo parlors, a windowless bar, and a check-cashing place on the walk to the café. But now the fact of the town’s age, the way the afternoon sun shone on the old cut stones of the next building, the lingering, descriptive Utility of its old name, made it seem beautiful.
She sat for a long time. Ever since she came here nothing had gone the way she’d planned or imagined or expected. It had all been a washout more or less, involving varying degrees of disaster. And yet still she did not want to leave. And now there was Greyson.
He had settled in with her at Butte’s, and no one wanted to disturb that, even though other people had stepped forward to help. Roscoe and Annie wanted him to come stay with them in Halfway, but Greyson had clung to Madeline—well, to Marley—when that was suggested the first night. “I’m Used to it here right now,” he had said plaintively, hugging Marley close with both arms. “It’s close to our house, here.” Reluctantly, Roscoe and Annie had let the situation stand.
Madeline knew it bothered Paul that Grey wasn’t staying with him, but it was Unrealistic. Paul worked ninety hours a week and spent at least another five commuting, and he couldn’t just quit, that wouldn’t do anyone any good. He’d come over after he closed last night to tuck Greyson in, and they talked a little before he left. She could tell he felt guilty and frustrated, and sad, too, that he couldn’t keep Greyson with him. She thought the guilt was misplaced, the frustration Understandable, and the sadness endearing, but she didn’t know how to say any of that. Instead she said, “I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re so close with him. I don’t know what I’m doing, not really. And he loves you. We’ll be bugging you constantly. I don’t think I could do this alone.” Paul had nodded and seemed marginally less anguished.
Madeline was glad Greyson was with her, and she was scared. But if the Soo could survive and have this subtle, hidden beauty, maybe so could she. She and Greyson would survive together, for whatever time he needed her.
After a time she woke Greyson enough to set him on his feet, took his hand, and walked back to where she’d left the car parked. Time to go home. Time to get on with life as it was now.
23
Madeline and Gladys packed Up Randi’s house. There wasn’t much in it. Greyson had a lot of toys and Randi had a lot of clothes. Aside from that, her possessions were minimal: two beds, a couch, a table with two chairs, some pots and pans, a handful of silverware, a few chipped dishes. Madeline handled everything carefully, trying to be neat without looking too hard. It was such an invasion of privacy. Randi’s clothes were eerie without her in them. It felt too much like packing Up after a funeral.
They were quiet, methodical, glad when the job was finished. John and Paul loaded the boxes into Paul’s truck and took them to John’s garage. Madeline took Greyson