She sat with Time at her elbow. He was there when she took out the old photographs looking them over, the faces shinning from the page, still new and fresh in her mind like yesterday; Time had not erased that. She looked over at him and he acknowledged her gratitude as she stood to go to the stove to put the pot on for tea, a pot given her by her daughter, now gone, first college and now beyond to a small apartment in a bad part of town with a boyfriend she had never bothered to introduce, with phone calls which offered strained reassurance that she was alright and that things were going great, but she knew they weren't; but she knew she wasn't supposed to pry, now that katie was all grown up now. She wished they weren't "going well." At least she would call when she needed money, liked she used to do when she was in college.
The pot boiled and she turned to her window box to inspect the flowers and the garden beyond, full of herbs, rosemary, tomatoes. cilantro, not just a garden but a new crop of babies she sheparded into the world each spring. Perhaps she would grow more Marijuana this year. The money was needed and the law said that she could grow 12 plants, Last year she had six, this year twelve.
She kept her eye on them the first month. A male plant could appear and kill all the female plants. She aimed to be an alert gardener this year.
Turning, she checked the phone and the answering machine just in case she had missed a call, the mailbox to see if there was mail she had missed, her email and her neighbors--all these the rhythms of grand motherhood. Small town chatter grows with the years; and she didn't really like it.
She got up one more time. Time to watch her program.
She sighed as he sat down beside her to watch too. Her life-long companion.
He gave a her a long look after the show saying: "Take your time."
She nodded.
Chapter Two
"You have been good to me," she said "always there, always patient and many many times it was just you and I, and again, it is now just you and I."
I often wonder why you have done it. Why you have stuck with me. Is it that you have no choice?"
She examined his face looking for a response which never came. She could never see that face clearly, she could not, despite thousands of times looking, see his age, really read his emotions. He was more like a spirit which actually lived inside her rather than outside her. But he was always there with her, no matter what.,
Through kids and a husband she often ignored his presence but knew he was there. At times she thought he might be her soul-mate and that all else was illusion and people and things were just passing through, while he remained.
He and she, she thought, had become particularly close after Howard left. He stood at the door and protected her from that lonliness which can close in and suffocate in an empty house with just the light of night-time tv to keep the shadows away.
She looked at him, this time full in the face, wondering if he would be there after, after she went on, Would he be there then too?
He seemed to read her thoughts but merely smiled.
