A Spool of Blue Thread

Red prevailed, and he was back on the job shortly after being discharged from the hospital. He looked fine. He did say he felt a bit weak, and he admitted to getting tired earlier in the day. But maybe that was all in his head; he was observed several times taking his own pulse, or laying one palm in a testing way across the center of his chest. “Are you all right?” Abby would ask. He would say, “Of course I’m all right,” in an irritated tone that he had never used in the past.

He had hearing aids now, but he claimed they were no help. Often he just left them sitting on top of his bureau — two pink plastic nubbins the size and shape of chicken hearts. As a result, his conversations with his customers didn’t always go smoothly. More and more, he allowed Stem to deal with that part of the business, although you could tell it made him sad to give it up.

He was letting the house go, too. Stem was the first to notice that. While once upon a time the house was maintained to a fare-thee-well — not a loose nail anywhere, not a chink in the window putty — now there were signs of slippage. Amanda arrived with her daughter one evening and found Stem reinstalling the spline on the front screen door, and when she asked, offhandedly, “Problem?” Stem straightened and said, “He’d never have let this happen in the old days.”

“Let what happen?”

“This screen was bagging halfway out of its frame! And the powder-room faucet is dripping, have you noticed?”

“Oh, dear,” Amanda said, and she prepared to follow Elise on into the house.

But Stem said, “It’s like he’s lost interest,” which stopped her in her tracks.

“Like he doesn’t care, almost,” Stem said. “I said, ‘Dad, your front screen’s loose,’ and he said, ‘I can’t keep on top of every last little thing, goddammit!’ ”

This was huge: for Red to snap at Stem. Stem had always been his favorite.

Amanda said, “Maybe this place is getting to be too much for him.”

“Not only that, but Mom left a kettle on the stove the other day, and when Nora stopped by, the kettle was whistling full-blast and Dad was writing checks at the dining-room table, totally unaware.”

“He didn’t hear the kettle?”

“Evidently not.”

“That kettle stabs my eardrums,” Amanda said. “It may have been what turned him deaf in the first place.”

“I’m begi

“Really. Shouldn’t they.”

And she walked past him into the house with a thoughtful look on her face.

The next evening, there was a family meeting. Stem, Jea

Red said, “What’s up?”

“Well,” Amanda said, “we’ve been thinking about the house.”

“What about it?”

“We’re thinking it’s a lot to look after, what with you and Mom getting older.”

“I could look after this house with one hand tied behind my back,” Red said.

You could tell from the pause that followed that his children were considering whether to take issue with this. Surprisingly, it was Abby who came to their aid. “Well, of course you can, sweetie,” she said, “but don’t you think it’s time you gave yourself a rest?”

“A dress!”

His children half laughed, half groaned.

“You see what I have to put up with,” Abby told them. “He will not wear his hearing aids! And then when he tries to fake it, he makes the most unlikely guesses. He’s just … perverse! I tell him I want to go to the farmers’ market and he says, ‘You’re joining the army?’ ”

“It’s not my fault if you mumble,” Red said.

Abby gave an audible sigh.

“Let’s stick to the subject,” Amanda said briskly. “Mom, Dad: we’re thinking you might want to move.”

“Move!” Red and Abby cried together.

“What with Dad’s heart, and Mom not driving anymore … we’re thinking maybe a retirement community. Wouldn’t that be the answer?”

“Retirement community, huh,” Red said. “That’s for old people. That’s where all those snooty old ladies go when their husbands die. You think we’d be happy in a place like that? You think they’d be glad to see us?”

“Of course they’d be glad, Dad. You’ve probably remodeled all their houses for them.”

“Right,” Red said. “And besides: we’re too independent, your mom and me. We’re the type who manage for ourselves.”

His children didn’t seem to find this so very admirable.

“Okay,” Jea

“Those places are made of cardboard,” Red said.

“Not all of them, Dad. Some are very well built.”

“And what would we do with the house, if we moved?”

“Well, sell it, I suppose.”

“Sell it! Who to? Nothing has sold in this city since the crash. It would stay on the market forever. You think I’m going to vacate my family home and let it go to rack and ruin?”

“Oh, Dad, we’d never let it—”

“Houses need humans,” Red said. “You all should know that. Oh, sure, humans cause wear and tear — scuffed floors and stopped-up toilets and such — but that’s nothing compared to what happens when a house is left on its own. It’s like the heart goes out of it. It sags, it slumps, it starts to lean toward the ground. I swear I can look at just the ridgepole of a house and tell if nobody’s living there. You think I’d do that to this place?”

“Well, sooner or later someone will buy it,” Jea

“That’s not the same,” Red said. “The house would know the difference.”

Abby said, “Maybe one of you kids would want to take it over! You could buy it from us for a dollar, or whatever way it’s done.”

This was met with silence. Her children were happily settled in their own homes, and Abby knew it.

“It’s served us so well,” she said wistfully. “Remember all our good times? I remember coming here when I was a girl. And then all those hours we spent on the porch when your father and I were courting. Remember, Red?”

He made an impatient, brushing-away gesture with one hand.

“I remember bringing Jea

Her eyes filled with tears. Her children looked down at their laps.

“Oh, well,” she said, and she gave a shaky laugh. “Listen to me, nattering on like this about something that can’t happen for years. Not while Clarence is alive.”

Red said, “Who?”

“Brenda. She means Brenda,” Amanda told him.

“It would be cruel to make Clarence move during his final days,” Abby said.

No one seemed to have the energy to continue the discussion.

Amanda talked Red into hiring a housekeeper who would also be willing to drive. Abby had never had a housekeeper, not even when she worked, but Amanda told her she would soon get used to it. “You’ll be a lady of leisure!” she said. “And any time you want to go someplace, Mrs. Girt will take you.”

“I’d only want to go someplace to get away from Mrs. Girt,” Abby said.