A Single-Wide Bit of Mercy

TW: profanity, addiction, domestic violence

Jamie counted the pills twice. One for cholesterol, three for blood pressure and kidneys, one for acid reflux, one antidepressant, one antibiotic for the latest UTI, and one for osteoporosis on Mondays. Then the vitamins: C, D, B12, Fish Oil. She clumsily matched plastic lids to their bottles and shoved the pills into the cabinet next to the microwave. She closed the cabinet door quickly, not meaning to slam it. Even though none of the pills were the good ones, Jamie couldn’t look at a collection of orange bottles for long without the metallic saliva rushing into her mouth and the urge to shit. The relief that followed desperate anticipation. Out of the cabinet to the right, she fished out a small, plastic plate, its scratches and stains matching the aesthetics of her single-wide. The aesthetics of her life. Holding the plate under the lip of the counter, she swept the pills onto the plate with her free hand.

Rushing her way to the fridge, she stumbled over Nelson, the 12-year-old orange and white tabby. “Get out of the way, Nelly,” she said, annoyed. “I ain’t feeding you twice.” Without looking, Jamie reached into the fridge and freed a chocolate Ensure from its case and kicked the door closed before taking the five steps to the living room.

Mama claimed her spot on the sectional the day she came to Jamie’s trailer: the recliner in the corner, next to the built-in cup holders. When the cops dropped her off, Mama threw a hissy fit and sat herself right down in the corner, arms crossed, threatening the Rapture on all of them when she figured out how to find her car. More than three months later, Mama was still in the corner next to the cupholders, only throwing hissy fits from time to time anymore.

“Mama,” Jamie nearly whispered, better to not startle Mama when she watched TV. The Today Show featured an itty-bitty woman making pecan pie in a skintight burgundy dress. Jamie found the remote on a cushion next to Mama and muted the show.

“I was watching that,” Mama said, looking straight ahead.

“I’ll turn it back up after you take your vitamins. Look, I brought you your chocolate shake.”

Mama looked at Jamie, wanting to be mad. She chuckled instead. “Why didn’t you say it was you, Jamie?” Mama reached out to accept her chocolate shake with a tangled mess of knuckles incapable of keeping hold of anything. Yellow fingernails thick as tortoise shells needing clipping. Every wrinkle, scar, and sunspot a clue to her past, like lines on rocks.

Jamie wrapped both of Mama’s claws around the Ensure bottle and loosened the cap for her. “We’re the only two living here, Mama. Couldn’t be anybody else.” Mama struggled to get the Ensure to her mouth. “You got it? Don’t spill.”

“Thought it mighta been that maid been coming around. Bout time you got somebody to clean all this mess up. I reckon’ you don’t got much time after work. Always sittin’ here with me.” She took several gulps of her Ensure.

“She’s not a maid, Mama. She’s your nurse, remember? Miss Brandy?” Mama ignored Jamie and turned her eyes back to the Today Show. “Here’s your vitamins. Can you take three at a time like yesterday?”

“I got the best recipe for pecan pie! Aunt Jean’s,” Mama said, nodding at the TV. 

“We make it every Thanksgiving, Mama. It’s real good.” Jamie was impatient. “Why don’t you trade me that shake for a couple vitamins?”

Mama, still distracted by the pecan pie, handed over the Ensure. “She needs to eat a piece of pie or two herself, skinny as she is.” Without realizing it, Mama had taken and swallowed all twelve pills, Jamie feeding her the Ensure. No fighting, no complaining. Jamie unmuted the TV and placed the Ensure in the cupholder.

“How’s your hands today?” Jamie asked.

“Fine.”

“No more pain in your knuckles?” Mama shook her head. “Good. Last thing we need is more pills.” Jamie moved from the sectional to the bathroom across the hall to fix her hair and makeup.

“I gotta pain in my ass!” Mama laughed. “What time does the bus drop the kids off from school? I think I’ll make Aunt Jean’s pecan pie today.”

“I don’t have kids,” Jamie reminded Mama. “I’m fixin’ to leave for work. You need anything else before Miss Brandy gets here?”

“Come on, quit messin’! You got Brandon and you got,” Mama’s voice lowered to whispers. Jamie poked her head out of the bathroom to check on Mama. Her eyes were closed, debating the second child’s name with herself. She lowered her head and brought her tight balls of hands up to her forehead, the whispers turned to moans.

“Mama, don’t get upset!” Jamie rushed over and sat down on the sectional. She drew her in for a hug. The moans turned to sobs. Jamie held and rocked Mama, stroked her hair. “Shh. You’re not wrong. You got two grandbabies: Brandon and Elliot. Amy’s boys. It’s OK. Shh.” Jamie rocked Mama until the news sank in.

“Oh, my Amy Angel! She’s got them sweet boys. And a handsome husband! Do you know he’s a lawyer?” Mama forgot about the tears.  

Jamie straightened Mama back into the recliner and returned to the mirror to finish her makeup. Mama had smeared mascara on her right cheek. “Cheap ass mascara,” Jamie complained to herself. “Maybe Amy Angel can buy me some of the expensive shit with her rich lawyer husband money.” Mama carried on about Amy from the sectional.

“Where’s Amy and them boys anyway? We need to get the maid to clean up around here before they come around.” Mama demanded.

Jamie snapped, “Amy ain’t comin’ here, Mama.”

Mama was confused again, “Where’s she at?”

“Not here. Never has been. Has no plans to come, neither,” Jamie said as she collected her purse, and keys. She was searching for her phone when Brandy let herself in.

“Morning, Mama! Are you ready to lose at War today? I’m not letting you win this time, gotta earn it!” Brandy casually dropped her bags on the sofa and kissed Mama on the top of her head.

Jamie shuffled towards the door with her purse, keys, and phone. “Hey, Miss Brandy.” I’m running late.”

Brandy offered a warm smile. “No worries. Me and Mama have a tie to break!”

“I should be home by 4, you know how it goes. Sometimes I get those campers.”

 “Let me walk you out,” Brandy said as she followed Jamie.

“I can’t keep staying late,” Brandy said on the stoop of the single-wide. “I do this, I have my online classes, and my kids.” Jamie nodded, embarrassed. Jamie had her waitressing job at the Cracker Barrell and the burden of her declining mother living in her trailer.

“I’ll make sure, transfer tables if I have to.” Jamie forced a smile and started toward her 2005 Camry. With her hand on the door, she looked back to Brandy. “Can you clip her nails today?” Brany smiled and nodded and went back inside to care for Mama.

In the car, Jamie dug a pack of Pall Malls and a lighter out of her purse. She lit her cigarette and cracked her window. She traded the smokes for her phone and asked Siri to call Aimes. Three rings. Jamie hung up. She told Siri to send a text to Aimes instead. “Are you busy. I didn’t get the money this month and it’s already the fifth. We need to talk about Mama’s homecare. Call me.”

The restaurant was still busy from the breakfast rush when Jamie clocked in. She found her section and made herself invisible at the service station, stocking supplies waiting to be sat. A cheerful, child-like and playful voice from behind reminded her that invisibility doesn’t exist in the service industry. 

“Hey, Jamie! We haven’t worked together in forever!” Mandy forced a side hug, swaying and giggling. Frustrated, Jamie broke free from the embrace and smoothed her uniform and hair.

“Sorry! Are you OK?” Mandy asked?

“Fine. Shit morning, I guess.”

“Are you excited for your sister’s interview today?” Mandy asked.

“What?” Jamie side-eyed Mandy.

Mandy whipped out her phone and typed the magic code that yielded results in less than 10 seconds. “Amy Kaplan, author of Purseverance, see?”

The words on Mandy’s screen returned to Jamie the heat in her neck that crept up every time she read about the book tour.

“She’s being interviewed by a big-time influencer, ‘TurnMyPages.’ I mean, I don’t really read or anything and even I know about it. She’s a legit book influencer!”

A dishwasher approached with a bin of clean silverware and left it at the service station without saying a word.

“I only know about her because she debunked a bunch of misinformation in a ‘best-selling book’ or whatever about how lotions and shampoos and stuff, laundry detergent, basically anything your skin touches, cause infertility! I mean seriously? Sounds crazy. So, she exposed that author on her channel, and it went viral instantly.”  

The two of them rolled silverware. Jamie didn’t speak.

“See, this right here is exactly why I don’t consume mainstream media. It’s all brainwashing,” Mandy said with undeniable confidence.

“What is an ‘influencer’ anyway? What the hell do they do?” Jamie asked.

“Fact check and inform! Influencers encourage freedom of thought. That’s why the government is restricting them and trying to ban some of the apps. They’re scared.”

“You don’t think ‘influencers’ are just another form of brainwashing?”

“OK, Boomer,” Mandy giggled playfully.

“I’m 40.”

“Anyway, what does the name of the book mean? Perseverance but like a purse?”

“Fuck if I know.” Jamie said.

“It’s pretty bad ass though. She’s like small town famous!”

“She ain’t shit!” Jamie snapped at Mandy, her silverware rolls sloppy and loose, falling apart as she threw them into the bin. Mandy fixed them one by one, the weight of her blunder heavy in the air between them. “Our mama is losing her damn mind! She don’t know what day it is, where she is, when she brushed her teeth last. Hell, she don’t know her ass from a hole in the ground! And who do you think wipes Mama’s ass after the shit she forgot she just took? Did your influencers ‘inform you’ about that?”

Mandy was on the verge of tears, too embarrassed to apologize.

“And where’s Amy? Live influencing some bullshit? Yeah, you listen to that live stream! Soak up all that ‘truth.’” Jamie threw the roll of silverware she was holding. It bounced off the lip of the bin, exploding into a shiny chorus, too pretty for the moment. Her gaze followed the sound. Three pieces of cutlery, motionless and silent, un-swaddled from the safety of paper. Casualties of the war that Amy didn’t know she in.

Before the tears fell, Jamie ran into the kitchen, pushed her way through the dishwashers and line cooks, bursting out of the back door. She dialed Amy, grabbing her cigarettes from her apron. Three rings and no answer. “Fuck this,” she said, dialing her again. She desperately lit a cigarette.

Amy answered on the second ring of the third call. “Jamie?” she answered impatiently.

“You busy?”

“Yup, but I wouldn’t have answered if I couldn’t talk. We need to make it quick though.” Amy sighed, annoyed. “Is this about the money? I literally just saw your text. I’ll Venmo it now if you’re that desperate. Lord have mercy.”

“No, Amy! It ain’t about the money,” she trailed off. “I mean you said you would, so send it. I’m calling because we need a second nurse, and Mama and I can’t afford it.”

“Why do you need a nurse after work? It’s just babysitting, Jamie. We just need her safe at home instead of roaming around. We don’t need to pay another nurse for that.”

Jamie took a long drag of her cigarette. “First of all, Brandy got on my ass again about getting home late and I don’t have no control over that. Second of all, ‘we’ don’t just babysit. Mama is losing her mind more and more every day. She cried this morning because she couldn’t remember Elliot’s name.”

“Poor Mama,” Amy inserted.

“Oh, she also didn’t remember the boys were yours.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she forgot you existed until I reminded her. I held her, I comforted her, I rocked her. And you know what? Then she went on and on about how great you and your perfect family are. Forgot all about me and she’s in my damn house. You’re off influencing or whatever and Mama ain’t seen her grandbabies in ages. And you don’t do shit for her!”

“Jamie, you know I can’t bring them down for a visit right now with the book tour. Don’t guilt-trip me, now. And I’m paying for Brandy!”

“And your pretty lawyer husband can’t never leave the court room, I know. Can’t your O’Peach or whatever bring the boys for a visit?”

“My Au Pair, Bryson, is in college. No, she can’t.”

“Bryson is a she? For God’s sake, fine. What about the second nurse?”

“I’m not paying for another nurse because you have Mama issues. It’s not my fault and I won’t be responsible for it.”

“Surprise, surprise. Amy ain’t responsible.” Jamie continued her train of thought, ignoring Amy’s protests. “I need a personal life outside of work and Mama. Dean won’t come over no more and he’ll go back to Amber if he can’t get laid soon.”

“Dean? Is the guy that Mama called me crying about? The one who slapped you in front of her?”

Jamie sighed.

“Oh, Jamie! What the hell? No! I will not contribute to that!”

“He don’t act like that anymore. He quit drinking liquor, so he calmed down. It ain’t about him.”

Amy didn’t respond.

“I’m gonna have to go that notary person to do the executor thing. Mama said she would sign. And since you won’t help, I got no other choice,” Jamie waited for the meltdown from her little sister.

“You want Mama’s money? What little she has? You want to wring her out like a rag, get even with her for paying me more attention all our lives. You snake!” Amy paused. “Just a minute more, please. A family emergency,” she said to someone other than Jamie. “Are you getting high again? Is that why you need all this money? Or are you really this vengeful?”

“It ain’t about any of that, Amy!” Jamie couldn’t contain the tears any longer.

“Do you know what it’s like being a disappointment your whole life? Do you know what it’s like to be compared to you every damn day when I’m the one wiping her tears and her ass? Mama never said a nice thing to me or about me, until I took her in. It was always, ‘I raised you better than this,’ and ‘take some advice from your sister.’ I am doing my goddamn best to make it up to Mama for all the shit I put her through, and I think she finally likes me for it. Hell, she might actually love me. She’s finally starting to forget I was a fuck up, in and out of rehab and jail, damnit. I ain’t letting her forget this me. I’m trying to do right by her!”

“And you need my money to do right? And I don’t want to hear your sob story about how mean Mama was to you. We grew up the same. We both grew up poor and without a daddy. We were taught the same. What you chose to do with it has always been up to you. And I’m not convinced that this isn’t just all about taking Mama’s last dime, or mine.”

“You know what? I did think about taking everything and running off with Dean. A thief don’t forget how to steal just like a preacher don’t forget how to pray. It’s ingrained. I have to practice doing right. It ain’t second nature for people like me.” Jamie wiped away her tears, frustrated. “And I got something to tell you.”

“What now?” Amy asked.

“You know the nabs that Mama sent us off to school with I told you was ‘snack?’” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Those nabs were our lunch. I stole candy bars from the Krogers and sold them for lunch money, so we could eat.”

“I wouldn’t have eaten your blood money lunch if I had known!”

“My ass! Remember all the trips to the mall with boyfriends? The boyfriends who were ‘too old for me?’” Buying us clothes, shoes, earrings? Eating the shit out of Cinnabons? Do you think I liked any of them? Liked my nickname? ‘Skanky Jamie?’ Christ, kids at school tormented me!”

“I thought you were just, loose, or whatever,” Amy admitted.

“Aimes, I didn’t like sex until I was 25, when I was finally on my own. Up until then, it was payment. For food, because kids can’t learn when they’re hungry. Payment for clothes and shoes because kids can’t learn when they’re being bullied. Payment for booze, weed, blow, whatever. Because I couldn’t stand any of it.”

The silence froze time.

“Aimes, you made it. The life you’re living right now, rich handsome husband, big house, wonderful kids, book tour, it’s the reason I started thieving. It was supposed to be so both of us would make it. I didn’t know I wouldn’t be able to stop. And I didn’t know I’d have to be high just to live with who I’d become. Mama finally loves me. Her caretaker. But I’m gonna lose my damn mind without no more help. And I can’t go losing my mind in front of Mama. Not anymore.”

Jamie exhaled 20 years of silence. “Aimes, can you help me pay for another nurse for Mama?”