No Man's Ghost by Jason Powell

Author:Jason Powell [Powell,Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Polis Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

MRS. TABACCO—SHERYL—POINTED to a sofa behind a small, neat coffee table and invited Candace to sit. Candace headed that way and looked around. It occurred to her that this was the first time she had been in another apartment in the building. Sheryl’s apartment was a mirror image of her own. The kitchen was on the left, a few feet from the entrance, whereas

Candace’s was on the right. The living room was parallel to the entrance and the bathroom was through a door off the upper left corner of the living room. The bedroom was a smaller space than the living room, but a decent size, and it was along the right wall. The far wall in the bedroom separated Sheryl’s apartment from Candace’s. Because the only windows in the bedrooms led to a fire escape, tenants weren’t allowed to put air conditioners in them, so both bedrooms were equipped with ceiling fans. Sheryl’s bedroom door was open and Candace noticed a table fan facing the head of the bed and felt a flash of sorrow. Someone Sheryl’s age shouldn’t have to suffer this heat.

Sheryl busied herself in the kitchen getting glasses and ice and pulling a pitcher from the fridge. Candace smiled. She thought old ladies making pitchers of iced tea or lemonade only happened in shows on TV-Land or the Hallmark channel. And even if it really was a thing, Sheryl Tabacco was the last person she would expect to do it. Maybe if she were hosting guests, but even that was an odd thought. Sheryl wasn’t the friendliest neighbor. In fact, she had a reputation in the building for being the mean old lady married to the sweet old man. At least until he passed away last year. It felt odd to Candace to be sitting in Sheryl’s living room waiting for tea. Still, Candace thought this might be the most visitor-ready home she had ever been in.

“Kevin used to love iced tea.”

Candace was in the center of the sofa, looking underneath the coffee table, astonished by how clean it was. “I’m sorry?”

“Kevin. My husband.” Sheryl nodded at a photo on the TV stand. A younger version of herself and a good-looking man stood by a bridge, smiling broadly.

“Oh, my goodness! That’s you?” Candace asked. She stood and walked over to the stand. “You look so beautiful. You guys looked great,” she said, picking up the photo. “What occasion was this?”

Sheryl carried two glasses over to the couch and set them on the coffee table, then sat down. “That was the day before my birthday. Almost forty years ago.”

“You look so happy.”

“We were.”

Candace put the frame back where she got it, careful to do it neatly, then sat down next to Sheryl. She took one of the glasses, sipped from it, and coughed. Very sweet. “Thank you for this,” she said, clearing her throat.

Sheryl looked at her and nodded. “Are you happy?” she asked flatly. Candace looked up, surprised. “Right now,” Sheryl said.

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