Ethan couldn’t say no to that. Together, they set up a makeshift table in an hour. It seemed Betty was determined to keep the birthday going. She cut a slice of cake and placed it in front of Ethan:
“Eat up—salad, cold cuts, cheese. Don’t mind me, I don’t eat much. Old age, you know, and my appetite’s not what it used to be. But when I think back to my youth…”
“Betty, does kindness come back? Like, you do something good for a stranger, and then good things happen to you?”
“Of course, Ethan. You’re asking me that? I’ve helped plenty of folks, and they’ve returned the favor. Not many visit these days, but I’m not bitter. I’ve done what I could.”
“Why’d you ask? Bet you gave someone a free ride.”
“You know everything,” Ethan said playfully. “Yeah, I drove a girl who couldn’t pay. Had to let her go and wish her luck. She was in such a rush, I didn’t get much out of her.”
Ethan deliberately left out that she was a pregnant ex-convict. He wasn’t sure how Betty would react—maybe she’d scold him or make him prove he wasn’t trouble. He’d had enough shame for one day and didn’t need more problems.
But Betty wasn’t the type to judge someone she respected. The tea party wrapped up around eleven. Ethan walked her out and returned to the kitchen. The table held leftover salad, some cake, and a couple of sandwiches. He carefully stored it all in the fridge.
He wasn’t hungry but needed to think about his next steps. Firing up his laptop, Ethan scoured job boards. Every listing demanded experience or education—neither of which he had.
That left one option: manual labor. No special skills needed, just do what you’re told. From that day, Ethan’s life changed.
He no longer drove but worked outdoors constantly. It made him care less about vague future prospects. Was this why he came to Chicago? Reflecting on his plans, Ethan realized he’d accomplished almost nothing.
Sure, he’d settled in the city, but what next? What were his next steps? He didn’t know, having slipped a rung lower, forced to start over. Memories of childhood surfaced, when he had to fight tooth and nail for any choice. Without his wits, who knows where he’d be now?
Suddenly, he longed to see his parents. But Ethan knew it was impossible. They were gone, as they had been all those years in foster care.
They’d abandoned him, left him to build their lives without him. Like returning a toy you didn’t like at the store. Ethan tossed and turned at night, barely sleeping.
Thoughts tormented him—his life revolved around work and home, with no room for love to warm his soul. Betty was right: you need someone to love to avoid the pain of loneliness. It’s tough, especially in old age, when life feels frozen.
You don’t know when the day will come to breathe freely again. Though Betty’s life wasn’t all rosy either. She admitted her kids and grandkids only visited briefly.
Their interests came first, so she was only needed when it suited them. That future scared Ethan. He didn’t want to end up an unwanted old man.
Two weeks passed. Ethan adjusted to his new job and stopped dwelling on his old, cruel boss. But Sarah’s image kept resurfacing.
He tried not to think about her. She was pregnant and probably wouldn’t want his problems. No, it wasn’t worth considering, let alone dreaming about.
But the urge to see her grew, fueling his thoughts. One day, waiting for the bus, Ethan spotted an elderly woman approaching. She carried a heavy bag slung low and waved at him.
Ethan couldn’t believe it was the same woman who’d said his day would come. Closing his eyes, he kept them shut for nearly a minute. When he looked again, she was gone.
It felt like a hallucination. But how, when he was perfectly healthy? Ethan decided he needed rest and swore off work on Saturdays. At home, after feeding Whiskers, he crashed on the couch and dozed off.
But within half an hour, Whiskers started meowing pitifully. Ethan woke up, looking down:
“What’s wrong, girl? Miss me?”
The cat purred and leapt onto the couch. As she neared his face, she hissed. Ethan was stunned by her behavior:
“Someone spook you, Whiskers? Whoa!”
Her fur stood on end. She kept hissing, backing off the couch. Ethan sat up, then heard scratching at the door. A chill ran down his spine, just like before.
His hands went numb, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t speak. Forcing himself to move, Ethan got up and headed to the hallway.
The scratching turned into a firm knock—not heavy, but like a woman trying to get in.
“Must be Betty,” Ethan thought, hurrying to open the door.
But to his shock, there stood Sarah, wearing an expensive coat.
“Hey, remember me?” she asked cheerfully.
“Yeah, hey. Hard to forget you. Come in, or are you not in the mood?”
“Sorry, I’m feeling off,” Ethan said, letting her in. “So much crap’s happened, I’m scared to even talk about it.”
“I thought you forgot about me. Took a lot to track you down. Didn’t expect it to be so easy to get lost in Chicago.”
“That’s the city for you, swallowing people whole,” Ethan said, his tone lighter. “But you spent so much time away from home, so don’t be surprised. Sorry for bringing up your past.”
“It’s fine, Ethan,” Sarah said, heading to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot to catch up on, but one thing’s sure: I can’t erase the past. It’s stained with dark spots I’ll never wash out.”
“Hold on, what do you mean?” Ethan asked, though he had a hunch.
“This,” Sarah said, pointing to her rounded belly. “All the secrets are here. If you’ve got time, I’ll tell you.”
“Sure, I’m just off work, no rush.”