Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts

by Olivia Gaines

  “Puzzles?”

  “Yes, Evan, puzzles. Remember the ones in summer camp...they were a thousand pieces, or 500 pieces,” she said. “There are these new ones, like actual jigsaws. I know we could possibly buy our own die cutter and start easy with one or two in Hazel’s place, maybe the Saturday market and of course, the Town Hall.”

  “That would be a conflict of interest,” Evan said.

  “Not if a percentage of the profits went back to the City for flowers, adult education or skiing classes for the kiddies,” she stated with a grin.

  Evan didn’t reply to her words as Donnie pulled into a long dirt road, coming to a small chalet styled A-frame house that appeared to have more roof than living space, but the porch drew his attention. It also held his wife’s.

  “That porch is amazing,” she said, getting out of the car. “Donnie, I love this porch!”

  The big, bearded, brute blushed. “I was hoping you would. That porch of yours Evan ain’t big enough to hold two competing thoughts. Sorry, if I’m too forward, but I’m sure the wife would like more space for her flowers, an afternoon cup of tea and morning coffee,” Donnie said.

  “Depends,” Leta interjected. “How soon can you get started and how much is it going to cost me to have one about a little smaller than this one?”

  “I can get it done in a week for under a grand,” he said, offering a sheepish smile.

  Leta liked negotiating with him, but she saw other possibilities for the handy craftsman if he could in fact deliver the goods. “Take it down a square foot and I’ll pay seven hundred.”

  “I’ll take it down a square foot, add a railing, shore up the front steps and put in a skirt for eight fifty,” Donnie said.

  “Done, can you start tomorrow?”

  “After work, sure can,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’ll have the wood delivered as soon as you stop by and pay for the cost of the lumber.”

  “What time do you open?”

  “Six am.”

  “I’m not doing anything fun at six am, let alone buying wood,” she said looking at her husband who stood with his mouth open. “I’ll be there by nine. Total for the wood?”

  “Probably around four,” Donnie said.

  “Can I get a discount if I have more work for you?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Donnie replied.

  “Good, let’s see the fire pit out back,” Leta said, following him around the side of the house.

  The entire trip took less than fifteen minutes before his wife ordered a fire pit for the front yard facing the lake, complete with marshmallow roasting stands. He watched Leta with Donnie and his girlfriend, a buck toothed woman who slurred the letter S when she spoke, spraying spittle on Leta’s jacket. Several times she attempted to wipe away the residue, but he watched his wife, shoo the lady, Donnie called Marisa. In seconds, Marisa was at ease, speaking softly and not showering Leta with spit.

  “Evan, baby, what do you think? Should it be cobblestone or pavers?” Leta asked her husband.

  “Pavers,” he said, surprised at how easily people related to Leta’s touch. For years he’d been lying to himself about doing a similar project in the front yard and extending the front porch. In the summertime a larger porch would come in handy; he’d just never gotten around to it and in one flick of her wrist, she managed to get a new front porch, a fire pit in the front yard and to discuss a business idea with him that he’d never considered before.

  “Good. Donnie, I’ll see you in the morning. Marisa, catch up with me this week so we can finish our conversation,” she said, shaking hands and walking back to the car.

  Evan, completely outdone, threw up his hand in a wave to Donnie and slobber girl, then joined his wife in the car. A furrowed brow creased the smooth skin on his forehead. His right hand pressed the ignition button to start the vehicle, easing the rental into gear and heading for the main road. He provided two toots to Donnie, but he couldn’t look at his wife.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Not checking with you first before ordering the front porch and the fire pit, but it’s something I wanted and plan to pay for, plus I need to see Donnie’s work. If he’s good, I can add him to my team for repairmen and damage assessors,” she said, “so I’m sorry if I overstepped on your home.”

  “Our home,” Evan replied. “I’m stumped because I haven’t seen Donnie in years. The last time I saw that joker, he weighed 100 pounds less and wasn’t a bear wearing overalls to church. And Marisa...who is she?”

  “Marisa is his wife, I guess?”

  “Not legally, because I never saw any paperwork come through,” Evan said, “and speaking of paperwork, Donnie is not licensed to do construction work in the city limits. So there is that...”

  “And he can get a building permit under the license of his father for minor repair work,” she said.

  “True.”

  “Life is only difficult when people attempt to be ass hats. I’ll go by and pay him and have Donnie come to see you to file the necessary permits to do the work,” she said, “however technically, he only needs the building permit since he is working for a friend.”

  “I’m the town clerk, so it has to be above board,” Evan said.

  “Roger that Hubby; we will make it happen,” she said, touching his arm. Evan liked it when she touched him. His heart rate increased, he got all sweaty in his armpits and his body got hit with the urge to mate. His right foot also liked being a member of the party, pressing down heavy on the gas pedal so he could get his wife home. A quick lunch, a bit of on demand movie, and instant make out session.

  He couldn’t wait.

  But he had to. In the front yard sat a vehicle that he didn’t know. In the car was the hair of a brunette lady whom he recognized the moment he parked alongside the car. It was Coraline Newair, the lady from Perfect Match in New York. She also brought along her assistant. Roger? Rumy? Rudy. His name was Rudy.

  “Stop scowling Evan,” Leta said, opening the car door and offering the guest a smile. “Hello, can we help you?”

  “I’m Coraline Newair,” the woman replied, looking down at Leta’s left hand. “Mrs. Eaton, I’m here to double check on services my company provided to your husband. It seems he’s owed a refund and I wanted to bring it in person along with my apology for the inconvenience.”

  “Coraline,” Evan said, “We just got back from church.”

  “Oh pshaw,” Leta interjected, “come on inside. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and I think we have some left over muffins. The gentleman can join us as well. Ms. Newair, did you drive or fly in?”

  “I flew from LaGuardia this morning,” she replied watching the couple. Her interest was piqued. “I have a flight out later today.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen,” Evan said. “Depending on the weather coming through whether you can get a flight out will determine the situation.”

  “Mr. Eaton, I will make my visit brief if I can,” Coraline said, watching his face. She waved at Rudy to exit the vehicle to join her as she watched the couple climb the front stairs to the modest home. Evan Eaton was a hard read and even more difficult to match. Yet he and this woman had found each other. “Curious.”

  “Careful Ms. Newair, you know what happened to the cat,” Leta said, looking at her with a wicked smile.

  THE INSIDE OF THE EATON home didn’t look any different than when she first made the initial assessment three to no signs of nesting from the wife which provided any knowledge to visitors that a woman shared the home with Mr. Eaton. Coraline was also uncertain of how much the new wife knew of the business arrangement.

  “I’ll put on the coffee,” Leta said. “I would say to make yourselves comfortable, but I look forward to the day when I can put that couch on the back porch.”

  “What’s wrong with my couch?” Evan grumbled.

  “It feels like you made it in shop class and added foam cushions from the lo
cal craft store,” Leta said.

  “How did you know that?” He asked making Coraline chuckle at the new vulnerability from the man who, in his initial interview seemed as rigid as a flagpole.

  “Honey, really?” Leta said, moving to the small kitchen. A tight, galley space in dark colors. The window above the sink didn’t offer much light and the entire house smelled like seared meat. “Let’s crack a window to let in some fresh air while you talk with Ms. Newair.”

  “You’re not going to join us?” Evan asked, suddenly feeling as if his wife were throwing him to the wolves.

  “Honey. Your business with Ms. Newair predates our loving union, so it will be best that I not take part,” she said, providing a smile.

  “We are married now so as far as I’m concerned she can hand me my refund and get the hell on,” Evan said.

  Leta wasn’t nearly as shocked as she pretended to be at her husband’s actions. She’d half way expected him to react in such a manner, considering his plans for the day and how the day was shaping up. Coraline was an unexpected thorn in the big cat’s paw, but nonetheless they would deal with it. The good news was the matchmaker brought the check with her versus having to wait for it for six to eight weeks. This bounty meant she could start shopping for a contractor to update that small smelly space he called a bathroom.

  “Evan, understandably there are feelings involved in this situation, but we can’t allow our feelings to make us be rude to our guest,” Leta said, adding water to the coffee hopper. “Coraline, I have this wonderful coffee that I purchased from a green farm in Colombia. It’s called Las Tierras or something. You are going to love this coffee. I think we have a couple of cider donuts left as well.”

  “So, no one wants to address the elephant in the room?” Evan said, pointing at Coraline.

  “Baby, there is no elephant, only the figment of your anger and frustration at a situation that was out of your control,” Leta offered then pausing. “The good news is this is your opportunity to share with Ms. Newair what went wrong in your purchase of her product. The even better news is she brought the check in person, which means I can take it to the bank tomorrow and get started on updating this home before the first snow.”

  “Yeah, there is that,” Evan mumbled.

  “Plus, the last thing you’d want to hear is that on the way out, Ms. Newair and I’m sorry, what was your name?”

  “Rudy, I’m Ms. Newair’s assistant,” the ebony skinned man said.

  “Well, isn’t that progressive,” Leta added while pulling down the two coffee cups and two cocoa mugs Evan owned. She located a small bowl, added sugar and a small spoon. She was pleased with thinking forward and shipping her items in a POD just in case the house wasn’t move in ready for her things. It wouldn’t be any trouble to acquire a few pallets to rest the POD on until she was ready to unload her entire household.

  “Mrs. Eaton, may I ask how you and your husband met?” Coraline said, with a tight smile.

  Leta returned the same smile with a brilliant, “My marriage to Evan is none of your business. I was trying to be polite, but my thoughts are with him. You can leave the check and get the hell on or we can play nice, you drink your coffee and eat a damned donut. Would you like cream?”

  Rudy, who had been silent since entering the front door, snickered. This made Coraline laugh, which made Evan relax a bit. He too found himself smiling.

  “See, now we can have a nice conversation,” Leta said pouring coffee into cups and mugs.

  Chapter Eight- Civility

  The following week turned out to be just as bad as the rest of Evan’s Sunday night. He felt like a spectator watching his life unfold in incremental scenes where he was the sad mime, holding the wilted flower and waiting for the girl to love him. Each day he was drawn deeper into her neatly laid out webbing, wishing that the spider would just fricking get it over with and sink those large pearly whites into his hocks and suck out his soul. He’d welcome the death because watching the woman he called wife interact with his neighbors and members of the community where he’d grown up and worked for nearly all of his life brought forth the harsh realization that he wasn’t living, but merely existing.

  “Next, she’s going to have me manning the grill, with friends over and shit,” he grumbled, hitting the registration paper hard with his rubber stamp. It was in fact a seal of approval on Ellis Thomlinson’s new boat, but he knew the old man was too old to be on a boat. Evan wasn’t one to judge. He simply did his job without offering advice or insight into the foibles of his fellow citizens.

  For fifteen years, Evan Eaton had served the community of Meredith as the Town Clerk, a position he acquired by sheer accident. It was also the running joke in the town for the past ten years, when Nelda Faye Rookshaw, the former Town Clerk, tripped down the granite stairs at the ribbon cutting ceremony for the newly constructed Town Center, tumbling head over ass and falling onto the oversized sheers and landing, flat on her butt with the scissors jammed into her thigh. The scissors that many thought to be just a prop was actually sharp enough to nick Nelda Faye’s femoral artery causing blood to spurt everywhere.

  “Evan, you had a year of medical school,” Lilith Eaton, his mother shouted, pushing him into the throng of the onlookers who gasped out in horror.

  Growling at his mother, Evan yanked off his belt, wrapped it around Nelda Faye’s thigh, and pulled down the skirt which was showing off too much of the lady who had failed to put on underpants that morning and was now scaring the children. Little Johnny Witnicky cried because he thought Nelda Faye was squeezing a kitten to death between her thighs.

  “Close little man,” Evan said, yanking harder at the skirt hoping no one heard his words.

  Luckily for Evan, Doc Neely, the local Family Practice Doctor jumped into the fray and called for the ambulance, which was parked down the street, to transport Nelda Faye to Mercy, the local hospital.

  “Do something,” Lilith encouraged her son.

  Evan reached for the nearest hose, turned the water faucet on high and washed away the blood from the accident. He also used the hose to rinse down the bloody clown sized scissors and proceeded with the grand opening. A smile actually graced his face when he moved closer to the ribbon.

  “Okay everyone, I just got a call from Doc Neely from the ambulance and Nelda Faye is doing just fine,” he lied to the people. For all he knew, Nelda Faye could have bled out in transport, but this is where they stood. “I see no need for the day to come to an abrupt stop. The citizens of Meredith have worked long and hard for this day. There’s food, fun, and so much more to partake of today, so without further ado, I declare the Meredith Town Center open.”

  In a great flourish, he cut the red ribbon. The town band played loudly and off key, while people filed into the new building, ready to celebrate.

  “Well, thank God for my son’s fast thinking and the year of medical training he received while he was in New York City,” Lilith boasted. “Nelda Faye would have bled to death had it not been for my boy. On top of saving her life, he also opened the Town Center on time and washed away the blood so it wouldn’t leave a stain.”

  The small crowd which had gathered around the loudest goose Lilith Eaton, gabbing to the other elderly greedy geese anxious to get inside and snack on the free food inside the town center, all bobbed silver heads up and down.

  “Evan did a great job. He should be the new town clerk!” The loud voices called back to the loudest goose.

  Evidently the Town Council agreed with their assessment and named Evan Eaton the Interim Town Clerk, a job he neither wanted nor applied to acquire. Still, the town no longer wanted Nelda Faye, and he was the only other person actually qualified to take the position.

  “Nelda Faye is going to heal just fine,” Judson Gallagher informed him the next day as he led Evan into the office of the Town Clerk.

  “Isn’t she coming back to her job?” Evan inquired.

  “She doesn’t have a job to come back to, Evan,”
Judson said. “Nelda Faye fell down those stairs because she was twisted six sheets to the wind, plus she wasn’t wearing any underpants. She was flashing her girl parts all over the place, and she tumbled down the stairs from being snockered! I swear that baby maker looked like a plate full of half cooked roast beef. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look that woman in the eyes again, knowing the bottom half of her is so...ugly.”

  Judson shuddered as he tried to physically shake off the memory.

  “You can’t fire the woman because she has an ugly snatch,” Evan said.

  “No, she also has an ugly heart, a filthy mouth, and is incompetent,” Judson said. “Besides, you’re the only one in town with a master’s degree in Public Administration, so the job’s yours. We’ll hold a special election in the spring to make it all official. Here’s the keys to your office.”

  “Just like that, I’m the Town Clerk?”

  “Yes, and don’t screw it up,” Judson warned, shaking his finger. “A couple of rules you need to follow. Don’t fuck anybody’s wife, little sisters, or pets. Stay out of trouble with the law and don’t pilfer from the pot, and we’ll be good.”

  “Okay,” Evan said, holding onto the keys. He stood in his office on Monday morning holding onto the keys just as he had fifteen years ago. Many of the residents stopped by to wish him well and drop off pies, cakes, and welcomes for his new office. The plant Hilda Hanover had given him was still alive with several pieces of the dieffenbachias snipped and added to new pots. The damned thing had quadrupled in size and had nearly taken over his office.

  “Hey, Evan,” Judson Gallagher said, coming through the front door of the Clerk’s office, bringing a cigar and a bottle of Rye. “Congrats on the marriage. Sue and I look forward to having you guys over for a game of Bridge on Saturday. Let me know if you can make it.”

  All day, people came and went, bringing gifts, food, and more, just as they had fifteen years ago. Most of it amazed him. In fifteen years, he’d never really interacted with the members of his community outside of licenses and permits. The town clerk maintained the vital records for the city, dog licensing, vehicle registration, and proofs of residency; a thing he needed to do for his wife. On occasion, a request would come through for an aqua-therm permit or a fire permit for kindling fires out of doors. That was the extent of his involvement in the lives of the people who lived in Meredith.