It was dark when Cass pulled into the gravel area in front of Johnny’s cabin. Not full-on dark, but that time when mystery starts to emerge, when different things are visible. Things that hide from daylight.
He was already out on the porch when she got out of her Subaru, standing with his hands in the pockets of his tie-dyed yoga pants, already smiling and welcoming her.
I’m so tired I don’t know if I can even walk, she said.
Get on up here, he said, and when she did, he enveloped her in a bear hug. Johnny wasn’t a big man, but even at 70, he felt as strong and solid as he had when she met him fifteen years ago. More powerful, if anything.
Welcome to the Fields of Concorde, our little paradise. You go on in, I’ll get your stuff out of the car. Reiki, show Cass in. Pop the hatch open, will you? Just these two bags? A duffel and a backpack? I thought you were staying a week or so.
I’m a minimalist, remember? I’m going full-on zen while I’m here. Find out how little I can actually get by with.
Oh bravo. That’s what we’re all about here. Simplicity. Tiny houses, and making our dreams come true. Reiki, move.
He pretended to be exasperated with the little brown mongrel wagging her tail like a whip against Cass’s leg, and blocking the doorway in her excitement.
Where’d you get her? She wasn’t here the last time.
She wandered out of the woods, skinny as a piece of rope, her fur falling out and a collar grown into her neck. Had to have a vet do surgery to get it off of her. I figure she managed to get away from whatever asshole had her tied up somewhere, but who knows. Looks like she has a little bit of Japanese hunting dog in her. She asked to be called Reiki so that’s her name. She’s safe now, aren’t you girl?
That’s how I feel, Johnny. Like I’ve been tied to someone else’s life. I need to get this collar off my neck.
You’re in the right place. Use the bathroom if you want, I cleared off a shelf in there for you. You’re sleeping in my bed, I’m going to sleep with my lady love across the pond. Iris. You’ll meet her tomorrow. You and I can catch up then too. Have you eaten?
Nope, and I’m starved. You always feed me well.
I’ve got a pot of beans and rice and squash and corn. Tortillas, red wine, beer whatever you want.
It all sounds good. Wine please. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.
Yup, Iris moved in a year ago, guess you haven’t visited me in a while. Not often enough. She had a little cafe and bakery in town, real nice place, but when the pandemic hit, she lost her lease so I convinced her to move here. She’s got a really cute tiny house fitted out with a professional kitchen, a big deck on the side where she set up shop. It’s called Tea and Sympathy.
Great name.
I thought so, that’s exactly what she serves up. Iris is clever, you’ll like her I promise. Now eat up and we can talk until you’re ready to go to sleep.
I can’t remember the last time I slept a full night, it’s been a tough week. But now that I’m here, with you, I’m getting a little energy back. I’ve just felt so flat and hopeless.
That’s not like you. Let me fill your glass again. What did that prissy little Paul say when you told him you were leaving him to find yourself? Wait, let me write down what I think, and we can see if I was right.
Well, the very first thing he said was, how am I going to pay for the condo without you?
Johnny handed her the paper he had written on. It said, who’s going to support me and pay for my new car?
You never liked him, did you.
I don’t think he’s a bad person. Just not right for you. He seemed more interested in how he looked to other people than how he felt about himself. Nice looks and the right clothes aren’t enough for you. Remember when we first met? When you wandered into my store in Sedona fifteen years ago?
The Rock Hound, with that picture of the old hound dog. How could I forget? My friends went on to San Francisco without me and I spent the rest of the summer with you. Best summer of my life. Except that time I got to go to Mexico City for the whole month of July. I wonder how things would have been different for me, if you’d let me stay.
You begged me to let you stay, but really you needed to finish college, find someone your own age, make the kind of money you’re worth. Speaking of your job, have you decided what you’re going to do about working? If you leave Paul, you’ll have more money to spend on yourself.
Actually that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking of cashing out, leaving. Coming here to live. Or at least try it. I might work as a freelance tech writer instead of for Big Money Inc. Since my mother died, things just don’t mean what they used to.
I always loved your mother.
And she loved you. Asked for you a few times, near the end. She was in and out of the present. Asked me things like, where’s that nice man that went to Woodstock? That nice man who made you read philosophy instead of all those computer books.
Go ahead and cry, little bird. You can stay here as long as you like. Grieve for your mother however long that takes. Find yourself again. We’ll get that collar off your neck.
A few mornings ago, I was putting strawberry jam on my toast and found myself crying. It was her favorite. In fact it was the same jar I had brought to her room in hospice, I’d feed her spoonfuls hoping to whet her appetite. One day she refused to take it off the spoon and I knew, she was telling me she was ready to go. A day later she just slipped away.
Wow, you’re making me cry.
The thing is, I started crying, there in my kitchen over a plate of toast. And Paul said, Cass. She died a week ago, when are you going to move on?
That bastard. I’m sorry Cass. Sorry you’re grieving, sorry you were living with that prissy jerk for all those years, and glad you’re here now. Coming to your senses. Welcome back. Tomorrow I’ll show you a house. You can meet people. You can rest and Iris will feed you, you look thinner than ever. I’ll clean this up in the morning.
I’m not going to argue, I’m going to be asleep on my feet in a minute. Thank you Johnny, you’re my home. Home is where if you have to go there, they have to take you in.
Good night, little bird. Reiki will stay here and make sure you’re ok.
* * *
When she woke, it took a few moments to figure out where she was. She was wrapped in a colorful Mexican blanket, blinking at sun bouncing off a giant amethyst geode, with a gray kitten on the pillow next to her. It looked up hopefully when she opened her eyes and touched her face gently with its tiny paw. At some point during the night Reiki had gotten on the bed with her too and now she jumped up and trotted to the kitchen, whining at the door.
Cass carried the kitten out to the kitchen and poured some milk into a dish for it, let the dog out, and put a kettle of water on the stove to boil. At home she used an electronic coffee maker with a timer, but Johnny always made coffee by pouring water through a cotton sock full of ground coffee, then heating milk and pouring that into a mug with cinnamon. It was more complicated his way, but she had to admit that Johnny’s way tasted pretty good. Made her glad to wake up in the morning.
She heard voices in the yard and spotted Johnny, his long curly hair gone gray now, looking like a cross between Willie Nelson and an absent-minded professor. He was sitting on an old porch swing under a willow tree, holding Reiki in his lap while she licked at his face. Next to them was a tiny woman in a long purple dress, her silver blond hair in a neat braid down her back. She wore no makeup or jewelry but her eyes compensated for both, shining with intelligence and empathy. Cass walked out.
Coffee’ll be ready in a few minutes, she said. You must be Iris, I’m Cass.
Iris jumped up and hugged her. It’s so nice to meet you finally. Cass had to lean over to hug the woman whose energy belied her size.
Johnny’s shown me a whole album of pictures of the two of you. We always knew that sooner or later, you’d find your way here. I’ll leave you two alone to get caught up, I’m due back at the cafe, this is my busy time. Come on by later Cass and I’ll make lunch for you.
She waved and walked down the road, the dress swirling around her ankles.
She’s wonderful, Johnny. I thought I’d be jealous of any woman you like more than me, but I feel like she’s already my friend.
I don’t like any woman better than you, you know that. Just because the boy-girl thing doesn’t click with us doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Anyway, you must be ready to eat. How’d you sleep?
A kitten woke me up a few minutes ago.
Gray one? Yeah, that’s Fancy. You want her? I’ve got more out back in the barn.
I don’t know, maybe. If I decide to live here a cat might be good. If I’m going to be single and living in a tiny house with nothing to do all day, I might as well become a crazy cat lady. Do you have one of those here yet?
I’ve got one of everything here. The organic gardener, the crazy cat lady, the Celtic harper, the village witch, the pregnant waif, a couple of starving artists, the aging hippie. Another one, I mean, not me. Here, have one of Iris’s biscuits, she just brought them by. Voila, for you.
He took a gingham napkin off a plate piled with golden biscuits still warm from the oven, a dish of butter, and a little pot of strawberry jam. Her mother’s favorite.
Oh my god, that smells like heaven. Does she do this every day?
Well, sometimes it’s pecan scones, or sourdough pancakes. But it’s something that you want to eat, every day. It’s not an official restaurant, because she’s staying ahead of the health inspectors. But it’s legal to bake in your house, and nothing illegal about having friends over for tea on your deck. She has a little sign that has suggested tip amounts for menu items, and most folks run a tab.
Well, she can count on me as a customer. Hey, you said there was a house you wanted to show me.
Yup. Eat your breakfast and we’ll go over there. I have to feed and water the goats.