Free When September Ends by Andrea Smith

time,” she answers, “But Mama has me doing a lot of other things now. I cook and I sew and, eventually, I might even get a job.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Yes, Mama says I have a knack for sewing and mending so I might be able to work at Fitch’s Dry Cleaners. They need someone to do alternations and repair work. Mama knows the owners real well. When she and Daddy get back, I’m supposed to start part-time there.”
    “Well that’s a good thing,” I reply, “I mean, it’s nice to have a means of income.”
    “Yes,” she says, nodding. “Like Mama says, she and Daddy won’t be around forever, so I’ve got to learn to make my way.”
    If the last remark was intended to send a stab of guilt my way, no matter how innocently stated, it succeeded. Why the fuck should I feel guilty though? Christ, Libby is the one that walked out on us. I never wanted her to go.
    As I glance over at her, I see that she’s gazing out the window again and I realize that the guilt comes from the fact that this person isn’t Libby.
    Not in her current condition anyway.
    Sarah is a much different person, and the fact that it is a result of a near death experience as Libby, for some reason gives me pause to feel compassion for her. Her looks only vaguely resemble the Libby that left us going on six years now.
    She still has the chocolate brown eyes—the same as September—but that’s about the only thing that hasn’t changed. She is scrubbed fresh, but she doesn’t bother with make-up, which, in a way, makes her appear younger than she is. Her style of dress is more conservative, and though she’s put on some weight since I last saw her in Meridian, she still is thinner than Libby was back then.
    Her hair is long and shiny, pulled back in a clip. No highlights or blond tints like before. Her demeanor is softer, and more reserved than Libby’s.
    “Is there a particular church where you worship?” she asks, breaking the silence as she turns to face me again.
    “Uh, well, we don’t attend church,” I start and then feel more guilt seeping in. “I know that we should and all—”
    “Jesse, I don’t judge people. No need to explain but, if possible, I would like to find a church for Sunday worship, that is, if you won’t mind dropping me off and picking me up. I don’t drive yet.”
    I nod. “Not a problem. No shortage of churches in Ft. Smith. Any particular denomination?”
    “Back home we go to a Baptist Church.”
    “Then you’re in luck, Sarah. Actually, there’s a Baptist Church just a few blocks from the house.”
    She smiles widely. “That’s great. I can walk there on Sundays once you show me how to get there a couple of times. Maybe Scout can go with me?”
    It’s a question and, to be honest, it’s probably a good idea at that for a couple of reasons.
    “I think she’ll be receptive to that, Sarah.”
    “And maybe…well, maybe sometime you may want to come with us, too?”
    Ah geez.
    “We’ll see.”
    That seems to satisfy her for the moment. It’s not that I have anything against going to church, because I don’t. In fact, I feel remiss that I haven’t seen that Scout has been properly educated in her faith, which I guess I now know is Baptist, but the thought of us all going together as a… family? Not gonna happen.

    Since I’d taken the day off of work to get Sarah settled in, I had spent the morning getting September’s old room ready for her, moving my computer and office files into my bedroom.
    “This is your room,” I explain as she follows me down the hall. I place the bigger suitcase on the bed. “There’s plenty of hangers in the closet, and empty dresser drawers if you want to get your things put away. The bathroom is just across the hall. You’ll share that with Scout.”
    “You mean…well, we’re not sleeping in the same room?”
    What the fuck, woman?
    I look at her quickly to see if she’s somehow joking with me, but her face is totally serious. “Uh…well, no