Chapter 4 - A DOOR OF HER OWN
Margaret did not delete the photograph.
She saved it.
Then she closed the album and looked out the window.
At the apartment office, a woman named Celia slid a lease across the desk.
“Your temporary furnished unit is available today. When your larger unit is ready Monday, maintenance can help coordinate the second move.”
Margaret signed without asking whether the children had swim practice.
Without calculating whether Rebecca would need dinner at six.
Without waiting for Daniel to decide the neighborhood was convenient.
Celia handed her two keys.
They weighed almost nothing.
Margaret held them tightly anyway.
That first evening, she ate a grilled cheese sandwich at a little kitchen counter.
The apartment was quiet.
But this quiet belonged to her.
She could turn on music.
She could leave a dish in the sink.
She could sit down without hearing, “Since you’re already up…”
At nine, Denise called.
“How’s the new place?”
“Small.”
“Bad small or good small?”
Margaret looked around.
“Mine small.”
Denise laughed.
The next morning, Margaret woke with a sharp, familiar panic.
She was late.
Someone needed breakfast.
Someone needed a clean uniform.
Then she remembered.
She lay back against the pillow.
Outside, a groundskeeper pushed a cart along the walkway. Somewhere, a dog barked.
The world continued without her making toast for it.
At ten, she walked to the library.
At eleven, she bought herself a paperback mystery and a small pot of yellow chrysanthemums.
She had almost reached her apartment when Daniel called.
His name filled the screen.
For a second, she felt sixteen instead of seventy-three: caught doing something she would have to explain.
She answered.
“Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Listen, did you get the pool guy’s message? He needs somebody to open the side gate Monday.”
Margaret stopped walking.
“Daniel, I sent you an email yesterday.”
“Yeah, I saw something come through. Haven’t opened it. We’ve been busy.”
“Please read it.”
“Is it about the grocery delivery?”
“No.”
A child shouted in the background. Rebecca called his name.
“Okay, okay,” Daniel said. “I’ll look later. Can you handle the gate?”
“No.”
He paused.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean you’ll need to arrange that yourself.”
Then she ended the call.
May you like
A minute later, a text arrived.
Mom, don’t start making things difficult while we’re away.
