“I’m not really sure that my husband’s sleeping in the cot in that medical room,” Sheila said, her voice raspy and low.
I didn’t know what to say to that. Should I encourage her to trust her husband? Should I pat her on the back? What would Old Mother say in this circumstance? Since I’d never known her to be the listener of such a confidence, I had nothing to base my response on.
While I was trying to figure out the right words to say or whether I should say something, Sheila continued.
“I heard a rumor that one of his clients, a young widow . . .”
Sheila’s tears were suddenly gushing. I handed her one of the table napkins. I didn’t think I should jump up and seek out proper hankies, leaving her all alone. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to matter. Sheila took the napkin, thanked me, and used it on her eyes and nose.
“I didn’t ask him to take care of the children,” Sheila continued a few moments later. “I left them with a neighbor. The house next door to us, they have children, too. Two boys and two girls. My children, Dafny and David, will be just fine.
“At least, that’s what Susie, the neighbor said, anyway. Susie said my kids could stay with hers until I returned from my mother’s. But now, I don’t know what to do. My mother is a mess. My life is a disaster. . .”
Sheila stopped to use the napkin in a mighty nose-blowing session. I waited, sipping my water, and wondering how to comfort her.
“But you, you’re young enough to be . . . She looked up at me a moment and studied my face. “You’re half my age, yet you seem so sure of yourself, so certain about your life. How is that possible?”
“I wish,” I said, so quietly, I wasn’t sure she could hear.
But she did. She reached out and took my hand, then patted it. “You’re supposed to question what you want and who you want to spend your life with. That’s what you’re intended to do at your age.
“But not when you’re old, like me, and married with children. Then, the choices have all been made. At my age, we’re like a gelatin mold with pieces of fruit stuck inside. None of them can move about. Maybe a little wiggle, you know, but they’re all firmly entrenched,” she said, sounding so sad and unhappy, I wanted to rush in and fix things, but I had no idea how to do that.
“You can change,” I said. “I did. I left the place I’d lived for all my life and came here. I wanted to find something new, something better, and I’m lucky I came to Tinkle Town because everyone here has been nice to me.”
“Especially Frank?” Sheila asked, giving me a quick hint of a smile. “I saw the way he was looking at you at dinner. You have a future there, if you want it.”
I sighed. “Maybe, but it’s hard to believe Frank really means it. I’m not sure I have enough trust inside me to believe him.”