Mrs. Rhodes

 Our family lived on a busy road when Heather and I were little. There was no running out into the street to ride bikes. Instead, we ran next door, to Mrs. Rhoades house. Anna Kate lived next door. Along with her brother, Danny, who terrified me. Mostly because he wasn’t really around, so I all knew of him were stories told to me by Heather and  Anna Kate. Urban legends that made Heather seem like a pussy cat of a big sister. 

We spent days running up the little hill between houses, along the well worn dirt path between bushes. Digging up Mrs. Rhoades’s yard to make smurf villages, playing in Anna Kate's room and tip-toeing through the “fancy” living room. There was a tool shed out back that we were warned to steer clear of that I thought must contain some kind of mystery that I was desperate to solve. 

Sometimes we would stay for dinner, always on spaghetti night. I sat in the wooden high chair, slightly higher than the rest of the family. Heather loved Mrs Rhoades spaghetti. I did not. I love Mrs. Rhoades and I adore Anna Kate, so I remember eating around any semblance of a vegetable and trying to mix it around so it looked like I ate more. 

The Rhoades and my parents have been friends since I was born. So she is the one I called when my mom’s mind disappeared. Mrs Rhoades held my mom’s hand at the hospital and tried to keep her calm. My mom raged at the nurses and kicked me out of her room. But Mrs Rhoades stood by her. Speaking softly and hugging me when they took her away. 

Now she visits my mom every week. She takes her to have her hair done and gives her a piece of what used to be. 

I call her sometimes when I need a mama. I can hear her voice in my head just as much as my own mother’s. 

One day I will be there for her and Anna Kate when they need me. Speaking softly and holding their hands.