replied. “I can’t pay the mortgage any longer, so I have to give it up. I don’t need all this space anymore anyway, Mike, you know that. It’s foolish for me to keep paying for such a big old house. I’ll move to a one- or two-bedroom condo, and it’ll be more cost efficient, so much easier to keep clean, and much cheaper to heat, too.”
“I guess,” he said. “I just hate the idea of your having to sell this house because you can’t afford it, after all these years. It doesn’t seem right. I wish there was something I could do.”
“There is, and you’re doing it,” she said. “I just need your support. That’s all. I know this is your home, too, and I know that this must be hard for you, but trust me when I say that this is the best thing for both of us. This house holds a lot of memories for us, but most of them are bad, as far as I’m concerned, and the sooner we start fresh, the better.”
“What if I co-sign a loan with you, would that help?”
“Listen to me, Michael,” Peggy raised her voice. “I want to get away from this house. It’s holding me back, so you just have to get used to it. You hear me? It’s my choice.”
I heard something smack on the floor and then Michael’s soft voice. “Sorry, Mom. You’re right. You do whatever you need to do. I only want to help.”
“Well, start packing those boxes if you want to help,” she said. “Don’t just sit there.”
Chapter 7
I made some noise coming up the stairs, which disturbed Louie but didn’t stop Peggy from the flurry of sorting she was doing in the corner. I handed a beer to Michael, an eyebrow raised in a silent question as I mouthed, “Okay?”
He shrugged and took a long swig of beer.
“Don’t plan on getting drunk, you two,” Peggy said. “Remember you promised to join me for the family visitation later on, and being intoxicated is not an option.”
I grinned at Michael and we answered in harmony: “Yes, Mother.”
She turned around scowling. “Get over here, you scalawag,” she said, pointing at me. “You, finish trying on those jackets and decide what you want. No more dilly-dallying.”
“Mom, really. Scalawags? Dilly-dallying? Did you hit your head on the rafters?” Michael asked.
“Stop being a smart ass,” she said. “Now, Cassie, come here and try this on. Come on, don’t be shy, he doesn’t care about your breasts, take off your top and try on this dress.”
“Yeah, go on. I don’t want to see any of your girlie parts,” Michael said, wagging his tongue behind Peggy’s back.
“Are you sure you want to give these things away?” I asked. The dress was another designer creation, chiffon with a beaded overlay that fit like a dream.
“Yes, I am sure. I don’t have the time or the interest in selling this stuff, and it’s just perfect for you. Why don’t you just take this trunk back to the city and you can decide which of the pieces you want to keep or sell. I don’t want to know—they’re yours.”
“Really, Peggy, let me pay you,” I said.
“No, they’ve been moldering up here for thirty years, you’ll be doing me a favor to get rid of them for me,” she said. I started to protest and she held up a hand. “That’s it, it’s settled. No more arguing, or I’ll be insulted that you don’t like my clothes.”
She took the dress I’d just removed and folded it back into the trunk, then placed a layer of tissue paper over it and closed the top. “You and I can get this thing down the ladder by sliding it, I think,” she said. “I’ll go first, then you slide it over to the edge and I’ll grab it.”
I followed her, signaling Michael but he shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t win—just take them and say thank you,” he whispered.
“That’s excellent advice Michael,” she yelled. “You should listen to him, Cassie.”
I rolled my eyes at him and then said, “Thank you for the clothes, Peggy.”
“You’re very welcome,” she said, grabbing the end of the locker and backing down the ladder. I tried to hang onto the handle and slowly follow her down, but it was awkward and she ended up holding most of the weight. “Are you all right under there?” I asked.
“Oooph,” she replied. “Hold on a sec. Okay, one more step. What the—no!”
Peggy’s head disappeared and I heard her thump onto the floor. I was hanging onto the heavy box by its leather handle when I heard the screech of a cat. Michael shouted “Mom!” into my ear as he pressed against the floor peering down into the opening. Neither of us could see what had happened to her. I was hanging onto the trunk, barely, with both hands now, afraid to let it but certain that at any moment I was going to have to let go of it—and Michael was no help, even if he could have wedged himself somehow alongside me on the ladder, his leg was still too fragile to risk such a maneuver.
“Peggy? Are you okay?” I asked. “Answer me if you can.”
“Goddam it, I hate cats,” she said. I still could not see her.
“Can you move?” I said. “I can’t see you, but I’m going to need to put this trunk down soon, and I don’t want to put it on top of you. So if you can possibly roll yourself to the side? That would be a good thing.”
“Son of a bitch,” she said, teeth clenched.
“Michael, can you see anything?” I asked.
“Not really,” he said. He was still on the floor. “Is there any way you can move the trunk to one side?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I said. “Do you see any rope up there or anything else that we could loop around it, to maybe take some of the weight off?”
He got up and looked around, then I felt him coming down the ladder.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“I can’t just stay up there and watch,” he said. “I’ll put my weight on my good leg. If I can hold the trunk, maybe you can go down and help her. What do you think?”
“If we can make the transfer without dropping it, that’s a good idea. You’ve got more upper body strength than I do, you can hold it longer. Okay, slide over, but don’t put any weight on that leg, all right?” We struggled for several tense moments, during which Louie appeared from the other side and climbed my leg. “This isn’t going to work,” I said. “Take off your belt. You can loop it in the handle and hold onto it with both hands. That’ll work better than handing it off, I think. Dammit, Louie, you are a bad boy.”
We could hear Peggy struggling. “My back is out,” she said. “I’m not going to be able to get up by myself.”
Michael had the belt in position and I felt him take over the weight of the trunk. “Okay,” I said. “I’m going to slip out the side here. You got a good grip?” He nodded. “I’m out.”
I was on the landing and I could see Peggy, sprawled half under the ladder. She looked contorted. I squatted near her shoulders. “Okay, I’m going to gently pull you backwards, away from the ladder. Are you clear?”
“My foot is twisted,” she said.
I reached down and straightened it. “Do you think it’s broken?” I asked. She scowled. “We’ll check that in a minute. Let’s get you safely away from the trunk first,” I said. I reached under her shoulders, put my arms into her pits, and pulled her towards me. Inch by inch, I slowly got her clear of the trunk. When there was enough clearance, I got up and went over to help Michael lower the trunk safely to the floor.
He rushed to Peggy. “Should we call an ambulance?” he said.
She shook