Original fiction · Chapter 2 of 2
Hold the Other End
The envelope had been stuck to a birthday card I'd sent when Tessa turned one. On the back, I'd written the measurement from her checkup because my mother always asked how tall she was.
I remembered putting it in the mailbox. I hadn't remembered there was a number on it.
Mom had saved the cards from Tessa's next five birthdays, too. On years I hadn't written down a height, she'd called me and asked. Sometimes I'd guessed. She said she put little circles beside the guesses so she'd know which lines to move if I ever gave her a better number.
I looked at the board. Two of the lines had circles.
“You could have asked to come over,” I said.
“I did once. You told me that week was a bad week.”
It had been a bad week. What I hadn't said was that the week after it might have been easier. I could see how she might have heard the door closing.
We put the board in the back of my car. That evening, after the moving truck left, Mom came to my house for dinner. Tessa showed her where the dog was buried in the garden, then asked if she wanted to see the loose tooth she'd been working on. Mom said she would like to see it after we'd all finished eating.
I brought the board inside. Tessa stood beside it in her socks and Mom flattened her hair with one hand. The new mark was a little lower than the last one Mom had drawn. We looked at the circle beside it and laughed at my estimate.
“Do you want me to rub it out?” Mom asked.
Tessa said no. She wanted to write the date beside both.
The board was too long for the spot by the pantry. The next morning I measured the wall near the back door and called Mom to ask where she thought it should go. She said she could come over and hold the other end.
I told her the door would be open.
