Free Uncertain by Avery Kirk Page A

ma’am, but don’t wait too long. Day after tomorrow, we’ll be in that two-week window where prices really creep up.”
    “Yeah, I understand.”
    “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
    “Yeah, stop selling gift cards to people without knowing who they are.”
    “I’ll pass that on to my manager. I’m sorry.”
    I hung up the phone and stared at the wall. “I’m not going,” I declared aloud.
    I waited several minutes, just standing in the kitchen.
    I couldn’t think of a single reason why I’d need to be anywhere. What more could I do?
    Impulsively, I picked up my cell phone and dialed Vita, Kevin’s mom.
    I thought for sure the call would go to voicemail.  That might be why I had the instant courage to dial her. But she picked up on the second ring.
    “Hi, sweetheart.”
    “Hi,” I said sort of surprised.
    “Somthin’ up?”
    “Yes. Sorry I’m bothering you with it.”
    “Oh c’mon now, don’t give it another thought.”
    I was quiet. I felt stupid for calling.
    “Would you prefer to come visit? I’m free after three.”
    “I would, yes.”
    “All right, sweetheart. As long as you don’t mind, you can come to our house. It’s a rare day—I’ve got the whole place to myself!”
    “OK. Thank you.”
    “You bet. See you in a little while.”
     
    I pulled up to Vita’s house about two hours later. I could see her peeking through the front door. I’d worried her, I guessed. I parked the truck and walked up to the house. She popped right out.
    “Hey, baby, c’mon in.”
    “Hi.”
    “So, you look like maybe you’ve seen a ghost,” Vita said, a crinkle between her eyebrows.
    “It’s probably not all that bad,” I lied.
    Vita’s house smelled of the most wonderful aroma of beef, garlic, and tomatoes.
    “Smells good in here.”
    “I love my slow cooker.” She smiled. “Sit down, sit down.” She put her hand on my back.
    I sat in the brown leather chair heavy with wrinkles. Not ugly wrinkles, but cool, lived-in wrinkles. I sat and looked around for a moment, and then the phone call came back to me. What the hell was I going to do? Should I even tell Vita? She might think I was certifiably insane.
    Vita had been looking at me. “Wow, OK. So, how ‘bout this,” she said. “Let me make us some hot chocolate and you stay warm.” She picked up a woven green, yellow, and rust-colored, incredibly soft blanket and set it around my shoulders.
    I followed Vita to the kitchen, and she motioned for me to sit in the tall, back stools at the island in the center of the kitchen. The five leather-bound nail-head stools were all lined up perfectly. She nabbed a cereal bowl sitting in front of one of the chairs and gave the counter a quick wipe after I sat down.
    “I love your house,” I told her. “It’s so cozy.”
    “I’ll tell you what. I’m both Southern and Italian, the two cultures with the gaudiest tastes on the planet. I could’ve loaded this place up with gold and floral and knickknacks galore. Thankfully, I’m a minimalist, and I hate to dust. I appreciate the compliment.”
    Vita had a tea kettle already on the stove. She picked it up, poured out the water that was in it, refilled it, and set it on the gas flame. Then she grabbed two brightly colored mugs and set them down. Something about the way she moved made me want to watch her. I wished I could put her in a snow globe and look as often as I wanted to. She pulled out two forks and set them on the counter.
    Her hair was wavy and messy and up in a folded ponytail. She wore U of M sweatpants and a plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She had on thick gray socks and she used them to slide across the floor as she moved around the kitchen. She dragged one of the stools over to the other side of the counter so we could talk.
    “Lay it on me, sweetheart. You talk whenever you want to,” she said as she sat down in the stool she’d moved over.
    “I don’t know where to start. I don’t know…what