Someplace Like Home: A Novel by Bobi Conn

Author:Bobi Conn [Conn, Bobi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little A
Published: 2024-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Our trailer turned out to be as rough as it looked. Through the winter, we burned wood in a stove that had a pipe going out the side of the trailer. Sparks shot out of the rusted pipe inside the house, and it’s a wonder it didn’t burn everything down. Spring had come, and its rain and water dripped through the ceiling and down around the light bulbs that hung in each room. When summer rolled around, the trailer trapped heat all day and would let go of it at night. It wasn’t like Ella and George’s house, where you could open a window to let the air move around. The air didn’t move in the trailer.

But I got used to living there. When Rob went to work, I piddled around the house, drinking my coffee and listening to the radio. We got reception for one country music station that far up the holler, and when I wanted something different, I put on a record and sang as loud as I could with nobody there to hear me. I did housework and picked up any beer cans Rob had left outside. I started cooking dinner every night so it would be ready right when he got home.

I had gotten used to having good well water at Ella and George’s, but Rob and one of his buddies dug our well. It always had problems. There was never enough water in it, so sometimes we had to pump water from the creek into it and try to filter it as best we could. I still cooked with that water and used it to wash our clothes, and that’s what we took baths in. When it came time to make coffee and Kool-Aid, you couldn’t taste the creek at all. We could always fill a jug at Ella’s or Momma’s if we really had to.

It got pretty lonely at the trailer sometimes, but I wasn’t missing Rob all that much. When he was home, it seemed like he always found something for me to do, or that something I had done could have been done better. He didn’t like to see me just sitting around. I grew to like it when Ella came up to visit, especially because she usually brought some home-cooked food with her. It would be nice to have the baby for company and I would have somebody to talk to and play with as much as I wanted.

But it was hard to be so excited about the baby this time. I tried to feel what I used to about having a girl and naming her, but that just didn’t seem as important as it had. For a while, I dreaded going to the bathroom because every time I was afraid I would look down and see red like I did before. Things got a little better when I was six months pregnant—I knew it wasn’t logical, but I felt like if I could make it past the time when I’d had my miscarriage, it might not happen again.

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