The Special Power of Restoring Lost Things by Courtney Elizabeth Mauk

Author:Courtney Elizabeth Mauk
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781503937055
Publisher: Little A, New York
Published: 2016-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

The next afternoon, a little after three, Carol was reading in the living room when she heard the elevator ding in the hallway. She put her book down. The footsteps were unmistakably Jennifer’s: the sharp syncopation of high heels.

Jennifer’s wet hair hung in long, heavy strips on either side of her face. She wore a man’s pin-striped blazer and, underneath, a sky-blue dress that fell just below her knees. The material looked light, billowy, inadequate for the weather, the wind still holding winter’s chill. She set her messenger bag on the floor and after a moment bent to unzip her boots.

Jennifer seemed smaller, her skin paler. She came toward Carol in bare feet, rubbing arms covered in goose bumps.

“Are those pillows new?” she asked.

Carol placed a pillow on her lap and ran her hand over the silk surface. She had liked the rust color, thought it went well with the cream upholstery, but now she had doubts. “Do you like them?”

“Yeah.” Jennifer’s eyes moved away from the pillow, to the coffee table, the bookshelves, as if checking for other alterations. Carol felt guilty again about Jennifer’s bedroom, but Drew had been so certain. He had made her excited about the prospect of a new life, when she would be a real designer, an alternative to the gaping, shapeless future. And Jennifer never spent the night here anymore.

Still. They should have asked first.

“Please sit,” Carol said and regretted the please, which emphasized her daughter’s role as a guest. Jennifer didn’t seem to notice. She didn’t sit either. She stayed in the middle of the room, rubbing her elbows, staring at the bookshelves.

“Are you hungry?” Carol asked, and Jennifer shook her head. She turned toward Carol and blinked, as if surprised to see her mother there.

She sat down at the other end of the couch, drew her knees to her chest. She threaded her fingers through her toes.

“That’s a pretty dress,” Carol said.

“It’s a friend’s.”

“The color suits you.” But it’s the wrong season, Carol almost added. I can get you a sweater.

“So,” she said instead. “Tell me your tales of adventure.” She smiled and pushed Jennifer’s hair behind her ears.

“I’ve been working,” Jennifer said, glancing at her sidelong.

“The coffee shop’s giving you more hours?”

“I’m not there anymore.”

“What happened?”

Jennifer shrugged.

“Did you quit? Were you fired?”

“Does it matter?”

“That wasn’t a bad job.”

Jennifer’s feet fell to the floor. “See? This is why I don’t come over.”

“Do you need money? Is that why you came?”

“I can go—”

“No,” Carol said.

Jennifer’s arms were so thin. Carol resisted the urge to circle her fingers around them to show Jennifer what she might not be able to see.

“I wouldn’t be doing my job as a mom if I didn’t worry.”

Jennifer ducked her head, hiding behind a curtain of hair. Carol hated when she closed herself off. Quiet, happy Ben never made Carol work like this. But he was the second-born, the boy, and Carol’s love for him was not as complicated, not so vast. She knew it was wrong to play favorites, but she couldn’t alter the intensity of her attachments.

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