by Nick Poff
“I’ll say one thing for Evie Fountain,” Neal remarked as he shook sweat out of his hair. “She was a neat pack rat, if there is such a thing. Why do you suppose she put everything in boxes?”
“Oh, there was probably a method to her madness,” Ed said. “No pun intended. Let’s open up a few of these and see if there is anything worth saving.”
They began pulling away carefully folded cardboard flaps, uncovering a dispiriting display of useless castoffs. “I wonder if this is this stuff she pulled out of people’s garbage,” Ed said, looking at a busted-beyond-repair blender. He found a broken toaster and a set of cheap flatware in the same box. He shook his head. “There was a method to her madness. This box is all kitchen stuff.”
Neal held up a faded, threadbare towel. “And this one has bathroom stuff in it. Towels, wash cloths, a toothbrush holder, and…are you kidding me?” He pulled a dirty plastic bottle out and held it up so Ed could see it. “Flintstones bubble bath? I haven’t seen this since I was a kid!”
“Wanna take it home and recreate some memories in the tub with Fred and Wilma?”
Neal wrinkled his nose and dropped the bottle in the box. “I’ll pass.”
The remainder of the basement boxes held similar collections of well-organized but essentially worthless junk. Ed sat back and sighed with disgust. He hadn’t really thought they would find anything useful; it depressed him, though, to think of Evie conscientiously collecting, sorting, and carefully packing these boxes for whatever reasons she may have had.
Ed heard footsteps on the front porch. Rick appeared, holding a paper bag. “I come bearing refreshment,” he announced, handing each of them takeout lemonade from The Iceberg.
“Bless you,” Ed said, sipping gratefully.
“Am I missing anything over there?” Neal asked.
“Just the air conditioning.” Rick grabbed a magazine off a stack and fanned himself. “It’s a little warm in here, isn’t it?”
Ed nodded absently as his eyes scanned the room. “I’ll bring a fan over tomorrow. It’ll probably stir up the dust and make us sneeze like crazy, but at least there will be a breeze.”
Rick sent a more critical glance around the room. “Maybe you should put an ad in the paper.”
“What for?”
“To get some help with this mess,” Rick said impatiently. He looked at Neal. “No offense, but you’ve already got a job.” Neal shrugged and slurped his lemonade.
Ed swiped at a cobweb hanging from his ear. “I’ve got enough to think about without interviewing a bunch of guys who will probably spend more time goofing off than hauling this crap out to the dumpster.”
“Well, how in the hell do you propose to keep up with your regular job, the one that supposedly has you so busy, and get this place cleaned out at the same time?”
“I’ll manage. I always have. Geez, stop playing the ‘assistant’ record already. It’s got a lousy beat and you can’t dance to it.”
Rick stood up and frowned at Ed. “I might consider taking it off my turntable if you’ll take that goddamned stubbornness of yours and throw it in the goddamned dumpster!”
“Oh, excuse me, but I didn’t know I was playing beat the clock here. Are we facing some sort of goddamned deadline?”
“No,” Rick retorted, “but it might be nice to get this place pulled together by, say, Christmas, if that’s not asking too much.”
“Yeah? Well, write a letter to Santa. While you’re at it, go mail it!”
Rick threw his lemonade cup down. “Are you asking me to leave?”
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out, big shot.”
A mean smile spread across Rick’s face. “Oh, there’s no chance of that. You haven’t fixed it yet.”
Neal, who had been watching this exchange with wide eyes, gasped. Ed rose to his feet and put his hands on his hips. “If you are not down those steps and on your way to hell in the next ten seconds,” he said through his teeth, “you’re gonna go down ‘em head first.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Guys…” Neal began.
“Shut up!” They both hollered at him.
Rick sneered, flipped Ed the bird, and stormed out. A few moments later Ed heard Rick revving the Camaro’s engine. Then he peeled out and squealed the tires as he went around the corner. “Show off!” Ed mumbled, kicking a box.
He paced around the room for a minute and then sat back on the floor and began sealing opened boxes. He glanced at Neal, who hadn’t moved since Rick’s exit.
“Oh, don’t let that bother you,” Ed muttered.
Neal blinked a few times. “I’ve never heard you guys talk to each other like that.”
“Well, now you have,” Ed snapped. He shook his head and managed a tired smile. “Sorry. I don’t want to take it out on you.” He sat back on his heels and tried to explain. “Rick and I, we…get tense when we start a big project like this. We worry about the money. We worry about the time. We worry that we can’t pull it off.” He shrugged. “Believe it or not, screaming at each other blows out the tension, kind of like a thunderstorm clears the air.”
“Oh,” said Neal, who did not look convinced.
“You’ll just have to trust me on this one.” Ed briskly sealed another box and hoisted it to his shoulder. “Believe me, we’ll make up by dinnertime.”
Neal picked up a sealed box and followed Ed out to the dumpster. “Do you mean, like, letting the bullshit out instead of bottling it up?”
“Uh huh.” Ed tossed the box into the dumpster. It hit the bottom with a resounding, satisfying thud.
Neal threw his box in and created another good, echoing thud. “I don’t think I’m very good at that, letting out the bullshit.”
Ed leaned against the dumpster and sighed. “Yeah, well, it’s hard. I remember the first major fight Rick and I had. Man, I tell you, I thought it was over between us. But we both apologized and moved on. I guess it’s just all part of the process, you know, of learning to love and trust another human being. I guess Rick and I have been lucky. We’ve managed to learn how to let the frustration and the resentments out before they build up and really cause damage.”
Neal shook his head, looking exhausted. “Boy, am I clueless. I thought when I came out and turned eighteen I’d be ready to be an adult. I feel like I’ve still got my training wheels on.”
Ed threw a mock punch to Neal’s face. “Cheer up, kid. Everyone thinks they have it figured out at eighteen. But I can guarantee you, someday, when you least expect it, something happens and you suddenly realize you’re grown up.”
“Yeah?” Neal turned and made his way up the steps. “When it happens are you gonna send me a congratulations card?”
“Hell yeah. I’ll even get you a shirt that says I JUST FINISHED GROWING UP AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT.”
###
As Ed predicted, he felt no malice for Rick by the end of the day, just a longing to see him and apologize. He found him in the front parlor, reading the newspaper. The moment Rick saw Ed he threw the paper aside and jumped up. “I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered, pulling Ed into his arms.
“I’m sorry, too,” Ed said against Rick’s shoulder. “The heat, the stress…”
“The nagging husband,” Rick chuckled. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, darlin’.”
This declaration led to a kiss, and then another, longer one. Ed probably would have stood there for quite a while, making out with his forever Dream Man, but he suddenly remembered Neal had come in right behind him. “Darlin’, I think we got company,” he whispered.
Rick looked up and sent a sheepish grin at Neal. “Hey. Listen, sorry for all that noise earlier.”
Neal shrugged. “It’s okay. I guess I still have a thing or two to learn about relationships.”
“Well, here’s one lesson you can definitely take to heart,” Ed said, smiling at Rick and hugging him tightly. “The making up is a
lmost always wonderful.”
###
Ed was too busy to return to the house the next day, but he wasn’t particularly worried about it. The project would eventually fall into some semblance of order. They always did one way or another.
When he came home after his last handyman appointment he saw Josh mowing the front yard. Inside, Judy and Norma were at the kitchen table, deep in both iced tea and conversation. Ed poured himself a glassful and joined them. “What’s going on with you ladies today?”
Judy grimaced. “I’m waiting around on my brother. I need to get him home and into the shower before his date tonight.”
“Date?” Norma’s eyebrows shot up. “So that Tess is his girlfriend.” “I guess,” Judy said. “Who can tell?”
“I take it she doesn’t say any more to you than she’s ever said to me,” Ed remarked.
“Yeah, she’s a real motor mouth, isn’t she?” Judy shook her head. “Tonight, for example, since I’m such an awesome big sister, I promised to drive them to Fort Wayne so they can see Harry and the Hendersons, not my choice for a great movie when Jack Nicholson and Cher are playing in the next theatre, but that’s their business. Anyway, my guess is it will be silent for the entire trip. Driving those two anywhere is like chauffeuring a couple of crash test dummies.”
“Maybe she’s shy,” Norma offered.
“Maybe. You might want to tell that to Mom. Before she and Matt and Jane left for Milwaukee she took me aside and told me to keep an eye on both of them. I asked why and she said she wasn’t in the market for a daughter-in-law who felt conversation was overrated.”
“Oh. Well, I can understand that,” said Norma, no slouch at the art of chit-chat.
“Geez,” Ed protested. “They’re only fifteen.”
“Humph,” Norma snorted. “You wouldn’t know but that’s the age a mother starts to worry.”
“Yeah.” Ed said. “I’ll remember that. Mom, it’s great to see you and all that, but is there a reason you’re sitting at my kitchen table drinking tea this time of day?”
“I stopped by to talk to Josh about Mardell’s shrubbery. Effie Maude invited Judy and me in for iced tea before she went home for the day. Guess I just lost track of time.”
The back door slammed and Josh appeared. “I’m done,” he said to Judy.
“So Josh,” Norma said with a big smile. “How’s that young lady friend of yours?”
Josh looked puzzled. “Oh! You mean Tess. She’s fine. You ready to go?” He asked Judy.
“I give up,” Norma hissed to Judy and Ed.
Judy gulped the last of her tea and stood up, smirking at both of them. “Let’s go,” she said to Josh. “I’m sure you and Tess have lots to talk about tonight.”
“Be careful driving,” Ed automatically hollered after them and then shook his head in disgust. “I may not be a mother, but sometimes I sure feel like one.”
“It’s good for you,” Norma said briskly, the same thing she had said about oatmeal for breakfast when he was ten. He believed her as much now as he did then. “By the way,” she added, taking their tea glasses to the sink. “Before she left Effie Maude told me to tell you she’d made a macaroni salad to go with the leftover meatloaf for supper. Said she figured it was so hot no one would want to cook.”
“She’s right.” Ed stretched and sighed. “What do you think about leftover meatloaf and mac salad, Mom? You want to hang around?”
“You’re inviting me to stay?” Norma looked surprised.
“Sure, if you want to. Neal’s at The Iceberg so it’s just Rick and I. I’m sure there’s plenty.”
“Well, yes, then, I think I will. Thank you.” She remained at the sink, gazing out the window.
Ed narrowed his eyes at her. “Is there something bugging you, Mom? You don’t seem to be your usual take-charge self today.”
Norma sighed dispiritedly. She sat down at the table across from Ed. “I resigned from the garden club today.”
“You’re kidding! Why, you’ve belonged to the club for thirty years.”
“I know I have, and believe me it was past the time to let it go.”
Ed shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Joining clubs like that was what the wives of Marsden executives were supposed to do back then. So I did, for your father’s sake. Well, it occurred to me I haven’t been the wife of a Marsden executive for nine years, so I didn’t have any reason to belong to that silly club.”
“But I thought you enjoyed it.”
“It actually was fun in the earlier years,” she admitted. “We were all young and had young children. It was nice to belong to a network of women when you needed help with the kids, or they were just driving you crazy, as you and your sister did to me on a regular basis.”
Ed grinned. “Yeah, we were pretty awful.”
Norma snorted. “That’s a polite way to put it. I used to think you were both sent from the devil to torment me for not going to church like all the other women. Anyway, after you two were grown I kept up with the club out of habit, and the same thing after your father died. I tell you, Edward, that club has changed. It used to be women sharing and helping each other. Now it’s just a bunch of snooty women trying to outdo each other with flowers and landscape.”
“Sounds to me like they have too much time on their hands.”
“You’re right.” Norma slapped the table. “It’s just a bunch of old women who can’t find a useful way to pass their time. Why, some of them look down on me because I took that part-time job at the bakery. Can you imagine? I feel like telling them they’d be a lot less cranky and critical and their grandchildren would visit more often if they just had something constructive to do, but would they listen to me? They would not.”
“You’ve had to go through changes they haven’t, Mom.”
“True,” she admitted. “Still, that’s no excuse for the way they behave anymore. Of course if we had a president who set a good example it might be different, but no, we’ve got that awful, social climbing Harriet Drinkwater in charge.”
“Harriet Drinkwater!” Ed exclaimed. “For cryin’ out loud! When did she join the club? And how the hell did she get rid of poor Irene Booth? She’s been president forever.” There was no love lost between Ed and Harriet Drinkwater. She was indeed a pushy, overbearing social climber. Ed had had several run-ins with her in the past and detested her.
“Well!” Norma sat back and went into her storytelling mode. “I don’t suppose your buddy Eunice Ames told you what happened, since she’s up at the fancy lake cottage monopolizing my grandchildren all summer, but Harriet was all but kicked out of the Stratton County Historical Society.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No. Oh, she says she resigned, and she did, but just before the rest of the board was ready to vote her out of the presidency. Since she’s been running the place membership and donations are down.”
“That’s no surprise. She has the personality of a constipated rhinoceros.”
“Oh, Ed,” Norma scolded, but she was smiling. “Anyway, after that she started looking around for greener pastures and even greener people to push around. If it weren’t for that contest the Courier started, she’d probably still be looking.”
“What contest?”
“The Courier is having a ‘Most Beautiful Yard’ contest this summer,” Norma explained. “Apparently some grass seed manufacturer is sponsoring it. There’s lots of prize money, and of course the winner gets their picture in the paper. I’ve also heard Rupert Fry might offer the winner a regular garden column. Well, Harriet read about that, and off she went, looking for a garden club to take over. Lucky us, she chose the Porterfield Posies. And why? Because she knew she could push poor mealy-mouthed Irene out of the presidency. Irene’s had that job for the past fifteen years because no one else wanted it. That’s okay, though. She might be a mealy-mouth, but she’s a nice person, just the same. So sure enough, Harriet joined the club, campaigned against Irene b
ehind her back, all the time telling Irene to her face she needed a rest after so many years of being in charge of the club. Next thing I know, Irene’s resigned and handed the presidency over to Harriet Drinkwater, who turned right around and made Irene her stooge. So now that Drinkwater woman is parading around, all la-de-dah, acting like she’s Mrs. Nancy Reagan. Humph!”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Ed said. “If this is all about some silly newspaper contest, why did Harriet Drinkwater have to take over your club? Couldn’t she just beautify her yard and enter the contest?”
“No. The contest is for garden clubs. The members nominate the person they think has the prettiest yard, and then that person competes against the other entries from the other clubs in the county, and you just know Harriet will make sure her yard is nominated.”
“Hmm.” Ed scratched his itchy sweaty head. “Just how many garden clubs can there be in Stratton County?”
“More than you’d think,” Norma told him. “Each township has a garden club through the 4-H organization, and there’s another town club that’s made up mostly of country club women. You just know Harriet wants to beat them.”
Ed got up from the table and drifted over to the window overlooking the backyard. “Wouldn’t it be nice,” he mused, “if someone could shut down Harriet Drinkwater once and for all?”
“Just how do you propose to do that?” Norma asked drily.
“Thanks to the hard work and dedication of Josh Romanowski, who in this town truly does have the prettiest yard?”
“Edward Stephens! You’re not thinking of joining my garden club!”
“Of course not,” he said impatiently. “But is there any reason Josh can’t join? Shoot, this is practically the kid’s second home. Why couldn’t he be in the club and present this yard for nomination?”
“Why would Josh want to join a club full of gossipy old women?”
“Is there any reason he can’t?”
Norma looked at him, her face furrowed in thought. “I don’t suppose there is,” she said slowly. “But that Harriet would find a reason.”
