Chapter 7
Tatum had asked Anne some details about life in Wainwright. Restaurants that were worth eating in, cheapest place to buy red wine, local workout areas and, most importantly in Tatum's opinion, where she could find a half decent yoga class, in particular a 'hot' yoga class.
Hot yoga had become Tatum's new favorite; basically it amounted to doing yoga in a sauna. As promised by the advertisements, she found it provided her with a really deep stretch and a more intense relaxation experience.
Anne was unable to provide any advice about hot yoga specifically, but she did know that a local group held yoga classes three times a week, including early Saturday mornings.
"They have it up at Seymour Hill," she had said, "You know, the old hospital".
Tatum actually didn't know, but she nodded knowingly as if she did. She was pretty certain that it was going to be within walking distance, everything was.
Tatum looked forward to her yoga days; she found her stretching exercises provided a nice contrast to her typical high-impact, high-intensity runs. As she suspected, Seymour Hill was not difficult to find. Back down past the A&W and the bus depot and she was able to pick out a tall building sitting atop of a small hill.
Well, if you can call that a 'hill', Tatum chuckled to herself.
Seymour Hill was a tall thin building, with architecture entirely reminiscent of WMI. Red brick donned the outside and lions' heads and marble once again provided ample ornamentation.
Wainwright now had a newer general hospital on the east side of town and, as a consequence, Seymour Hill had been retro-fitted into a multi-purpose community center.
At the main entrance the inside walls were abundantly decorated with artwork, obviously created by young children. Tatum stuck her head into some of the rooms on the main floor which had clearly been intended to service a multitude of preschool and after-school children.
She noticed the faint smell of mothballs and mildew, a particular combination only a century old building could expel. She was also keenly aware that Seymour Hill was lacking air conditioning. Even at this very early morning hour, she could feel the building's heat starting to build.
At the end of the hall, she saw a set of stairs and a small hand-made sign indicating that yoga and other fitness classes were held upstairs. Tatum followed the signs and made her way up the steps.
.
At the top of the stairs, she could see a few women milling about, organizing their mats and water bottles into a 'just-so' configuration. When Tatum entered, all heads turned and took in the new girl in town. Tatum was certain that she felt some eyes burning through her as she started to prepare herself for the class.
In a small town like Wainwright, new competition was not always welcome, and Tatum was definitely competition. Her curvy figure might have been considered a bit too-ample in comparison to her taller, thinner older sister, and may have been too ample for clothes designed by many facets of fashion-conscious Chicago high-society, but in Wainwright, her form was a certainly capable of turning other women green.
Tatum had purchased her yoga wear with great care. As a result, her gym top pushed her breasts up and together, so that just a tasteful amount of cleavage peeked out over the top. The bottom was just short enough that her tight tummy and stud-type belly button ring were evident to a careful observer. She had purchased yoga bottoms with the 'lift and firm' option so that her bottom looked even firmer and higher than it normally did, and it was already just fine in these two categories.
The instructor was at the front of the room and obviously noticed Tatum didn't belong.
She turned to Tatum with a bright "Well hello. I'm Shirley. Haven't seen you here before?"
"I'm new in town," said Tatum.
"Welcome. Glad you decided to join us today." She paused to admire Tatum's physique. "You don't look like a beginner so I'm going to assume that you'll find your way?"
Tatum nodded, "I did yoga at home. Might just take me awhile to get up to speed on your class, that's all."
Shirley was an older woman, but she had obviously kept herself in shape over the years. She still looked trim and fit in her yoga gear and Tatum thought she was an excellent example of why one would keep up with workouts well into their later years.
Tatum glanced around but didn't see anyone making any moves to include her in their pre-determined work-out circle.
Finally, she heard a voice from across the room say "Come on over here, I'll move over so you've got some room."
Tatum felt relief at an invitation, any invitation, and headed over in the direction of the voice. She finally pinpointed the woman speaking and saw another woman about her age looking at her expectantly.
"Thanks for making room," Tatum said. "My name's Tatum and as I'm sure you've guessed; I'm new in town."
Tatum noticed the other women in the room talking quietly amongst themselves, trying to make it look like they weren't talking about her.
The other woman laughingly responded, "Yah, I kind of noticed the new-in-town thing. I'm Sam, and I'm definitely not new in town."
.
Tatum found herself thoroughly enjoying her yoga class both for the relaxation and for the opportunity to make a new friend. After class, she and Sam sat for a few moments on their mats and made small talk. Girl talk, even superficial girl talk, was something that Tatum missed desperately being so far away from her school friends, and especially from her mom and Sarah.
"See you next week?" Tatum asked hopefully when she and Sam reached the front door and headed their separate ways.
"This is Wainwright," said Sam, "I'll see you next week for sure and probably three times in between". She laughed out loud at her own joke.
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Tatum walked home feeling rejuvenated, relaxed, and ready to face her day. As she predicted, Milligan was sitting outside the Regency Apartments, coffee table ready to go for the morning rush. Saturdays and Sundays were big days for Milligan. Monday through Friday residents were in a hurry, on their way out to work and other places they needed to be, to see people they needed to see. But, weekends, they were different. Residents would take more time, sit and talk a while.
Tatum was happy to engage in this change to the weekend schedule. She pulled up her usual chair, knowing this morning she'd definitely be having more than one cup.
.
Milligan was a good listener. He asked questions and he remembered a conversation from one time to the next so that he expressed curiosity about events that had occurred since his last update.
"Any update on the access issue?" he asked Tatum.
She had told him about her frustration regarding a lack of access to Units Four through Six. "Well, sounds like I might get to see some of Unit Six sometime soon; we'll see."
"And how about at home?" he continued.
Tatum had mostly talked to Milligan about work and apartment renos; she'd shared little about her family.
"You got any brothers or sisters?" he asked.
"Sure do. I have an older sister and a younger brother. My sister's name is Sarah and she is tall, beautiful and successful. I'm kind of the ugly duckling of the family," she laughed, "And my brother, Michael, is Autistic so he lives with my mom and dad. They are my two best friends. I miss them so much."
"I don't believe it," Milligan said.
Tatum was waiting for him to be astounded by her brother's Autism.
"There is no way I believe that your sister is prettier than you. Couldn't happen!" He smiled.
At that moment Tatum felt even more warmth for the kind man in front of her, if that was possible. She was so used to all the questions that followed her mentioning Michael's disability; she was extremely impressed that he had chosen to focus on something else she had said instead.
"So, your sister Sarah; you said she is successful. Successful at what?"
"She is an accountant by training, got into it so that she could help mom and dad with keeping track of the restaurant stuff. Right out of school she l
anded a great job with a big firm in Chicago, but then she met Peter, her husband. He's an accountant too, they met through work. They got married quickly and then had two kids, my niece and nephew, Jesse and Josh. Jesse just turned three and Josh was five in February. After having the kids, she decided the pressure of 'billable hours' wasn't for her, so she left to stay home with the kids. Since leaving D&L, she kept up all of my parents stuff and then got a bunch more contracts for other restaurants. So now she's created herself a nice little home based accounting firm that specializes in small business, especially hospitality industry stuff. Great business, beautiful kids, hard-working, sweet, handsome husband, and, she kept the grandchildren within a few blocks. See now why I pale by comparison?"
"You could never pale by comparison," said Milligan, "To anyone."
Tatum was usually really critical of others being overly complementary, she usually referred to it as 'smoke blowing', but she sure did appreciate having Milligan so much on her side right now. She only knew one other person who gave her such continual and appreciative feedback, and that was her dad. Jerry O'Neill didn't say much, but when he did, he always made her feel good.
Milligan continued, "And your brother, does he have a degree like his sisters?"
Tatum was taken aback by this comment. No one ever worked on the assumption that even though her brother was Autistic, he could actually still do normal things. Michael was not capable of getting a degree, but Tatum thought Milligan was so sweet for not assuming anything.
"No, Autism comes in many forms; unfortunately, Michael's is on the severe side. He's cognitively impaired, so we teach him even the most basic tasks. Since my parents’ business has improved, things have gotten a lot easier though. They can afford some help now. We used to do it all. Michael truly is a blessing. He has taught our family empathy, compassion, and patience like we never thought possible. Sarah says Michael has helped her be a better mom and I believe her. He certainly has made me a better person."
Tatum found herself getting a little weepy as she spoke and eventually even having to wipe her eyes a little.
Milligan recognized her starting to get sad and, with his usual degree of conversational prowess, turned the conversation in a happier direction.
"Your mom and dad's business is their restaurants, right? I think that's what you've said."
"Sure is", said Tatum, "Sophie's. Named after my mom of course. It's become one of Chicago's preferred and they now have several locations."
"So, did you get your good looks from your mom or dad?" Milligan asked.
Tatum smiled shyly, "Both Sarah and I look like our mom. Michael looks more like dad."
"Your mom must be a knock-out," Milligan said as a statement, not a question.
"And they both cook?"
"Well, the cooking started with my dad. My mom has always been a great cook, but she is terrific at family home-style cooking. You know roast and potatoes, turkey and pumpkin pie, that kind of stuff. My dad was always the artsy type of cook, really creative in the kitchen. We all loved it and we were pretty sure others would too and, thankfully, they did".
"Did you all live at the restaurant?"
Fair question, lots of restauranteurs lived above or behind their restaurants.
"We did for a long time, but now they have a townhome in uptown Chicago, not too far from the original Sophie's."
"And friends," continued the skilled conversationalist.
"Oh lots, I miss them too, so much" she said. "But, it's funny how being far away shows you the special place family holds; hey?" Tatum asked, mostly as a rhetorical question to herself.
"Yeah, family is definitely the best," Milligan said.
Tatum heard a hint of sadness in the last comment of her kind friend. She was hesitant to ask about his family, for exactly that reason.
.
Tatum eventually decided that she wanted to be a part of Milligan's life like he was becoming part of hers. So, she went for broke.
"And, you, what about your family? Tell me what and who made you into the wonderful, kind man you are today?"
Tatum asked her questions lightly, hoping to lead Milligan to tell her about his family, without becoming too terribly upset by his loss. Milligan didn't respond right away so Tatum pushed, just a little.
"Got any kids? You must. You're too great at being a dad, to not have had any practice." She smirked at her friend.
"I had three kids," Milligan said softly. Tatum shivered at the word 'had'.
"A daughter and two sons. My daughter and middle son are both adults now, my youngest boy died when he was not quite three. Went into the hospital and never came out." Milligan made his last statement in a definitive manner, as if to say "That's enough of that".
Once Milligan had disclosed the death of his youngest, his demeanor improved to its normal sunny state.
"My daughter Yvonne is thirty-eight. She lives up North; she's married with three kids. Her husband is a dentist and she works as his hygienist. My son, Billy, William I guess, is still single. He got into some journalism racket and he travels around the world taking pictures and writing stories. Pretty exciting I think, but makes his dad worried of course."
"How old are your grandchildren?" Tatum asked, "You must be a great grandpa!"
"Nicole is the oldest, she's fourteen. Then, Amber who is twelve and Craig, ten. I have a picture here; wanna see?" Grandpa Milligan said proudly.
"You bet I do!" answered Tatum with real honest desire.
They were good looking kids, all three taller than most.
"Good looking family," said Tatum, "Any of them got their Grandpa's sunny disposition?"
"Well, Craig keeps them busy like I did for my mom, if that's what you mean" Milligan said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Got any more pictures in there?" Tatum asked as she eyed his wallet.
"Just one," he said, "Billy," and he took out a picture of a handsome thirty year old that looked nothing like Milligan.
Tatum could see that he obviously had other pictures in his wallet but, given his insistence that Billy was his last, she let it go.
"Handsome guy," said Tatum, "Does he look like his mom?" she said teasingly.
"They both looked like her," Milligan said quietly. Tatum silently wondered why he had said 'both' instead of 'all'.