“We’re finished,” I say. “It was wonderful. Have you seen Ellie do yoga?”
“Actually, I haven’t,” Brenda says. “Until she showed up back here a month ago, I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her since we were girls, even though we were once best friends.”
“I invited you to San Francisco several times,” Ellie says.
“I don’t fly,” Brenda says. “And she would never come home.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Ellie says, an edge to her voice. I don’t know if she likes this old friend or not.
“So tell me all about you,” Brenda says to me.
“I really should go,” I say, although I don’t want to. I’d like to know what went on between Ellie and my father.
“No, stay awhile,” Brenda insists. “I want to hear how your daddy’s doing these days. I know you lost your mother a few years ago. I was sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks,” I say. “And my father’s doing really well.” I look at Ellie. She moves back to her mat, sits down, and stretches over her legs. I can’t tell if she wants me to stay or not. I know she only spent the last hour with me out of gratitude for possibly saving her brother’s life. I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, my arms around my rolled-up mat.
“Do you live nearby?” Brenda asks.
“Actually, yes. I live in the house at the end of the street.” I nod in the direction of our new house.
Brenda’s eyes widen and she laughs. “I didn’t realize anyone had actually moved into ‘Shadow Ridge Estates’ yet.” She puts air quotes around “Shadow Ridge Estates.” I have the feeling my little neighborhood has become the object of derision.
“It’s going to be really nice when the other houses are finished,” I say.
“Well maybe change is good in this case,” she says, rocking back and forth a bit on the exercise ball. “This area was always a little weird, what with the kudzu and woods and all.”
“It wasn’t ‘weird.’” Ellie lifts her head from her stretch over her legs. She sounds defensive, and Brenda smiles.
“Ellie and Buddy and Mama are thrilled about Shadow Ridge Estates, aren’t y’all?” Brenda looks at her old friend, who shrugs. I think Brenda might be a bit of a bitch.
“We’ve accepted it,” Ellie says. She crosses her legs, hands on her knees. “It couldn’t stay the way it used to be forever. Plus, I live three thousand miles away, so what does it matter to me if there’s a development here?”
I remember my father’s letter to Jackson. How the Hockleys would never let go of their property, even after their deaths.
“What will you do with your house after … once you go back to San Francisco?” I ask, the question awkward as it comes out of my mouth.
“You mean once Buddy and Mama are gone?” She looks at me, getting to the point. “I guess I’ll sell it, then. I’m not attached to it any longer.”
So, Daddy was wrong about the Hockleys hanging on to the property forever and ever.
“Where did you live before?” Brenda asks me.
“On Fletcher Road,” I say. The air from the ceiling fan feels good on my face. “Over by—”
“Oh yeah,” Brenda says. “Cute little houses over there.”
“Our house was cute,” I agree, “but way too tiny. And no trees at all.”
Brenda laughs. “Well, you’ve got trees now, don’t you? I’ve never seen a developer leave so many trees.”
“Actually, they freak me out a little,” I admit. It feels good to say it out loud to someone. “We have fifty windows and I feel pretty exposed. I ordered window treatments but they won’t be in for a while.”
“Well, I’m sure no one’s ever back in those woods,” she says reassuringly.
“I’m talking to fencing companies to—”
“Oh no, honey,” Brenda says. “You don’t want a fence! So ugly.”
“Well, I’d make sure it’s attractive from the street,” I say, a bit annoyed, “and I really think I should have a fence. There’s that lake behind my house that worries me, since I have a little girl. But other than that, I love the house.” Maybe if I say it enough times it will come true. “My husband and I are architects and we designed it ourselves. He died recently, so the house is full of so many of his ideas and makes me feel—”