Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts

by Olivia Gaines

  “Anything in particular you want for dinner?”

  “Surprise me, wife,” he said, holding the flat sandwich wrapped in waxed paper, a sorry excuse for a meal if she’d ever seen one, and Leta planned to rectify the dismal meal once she centered herself for the morning. He grinned from ear to ear, loving the feel of his face making the unfamiliar movement. “Kiss me and wish me a good day.”

  Leta reached up, placing her arms around his neck and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Have a great day, husband,” she said, pushing him toward the front door.

  FINALLY, ALONE IN THE two-bedroom home, Leta took the time to explore the cupboards, which held very little in the way of dishes, pots, pans, and accessories needed for entertaining. Thinking of the letters he’d written to Claudia, the loneliness which etched itself between the words suddenly felt oppressive and loud in the space. A door in the rear of the house she assumed was an exit to the back yard turned out to be a dark room.

  “Shut the front door and call me Becka,” she said, looking at the images hanging from the strung cord clipped on by clothes pins. She stopped when she saw the photo of herself sitting on the dock. Leta took it off the dryer rack and brought it to the living room in the light. “I have just the frame for this.”

  As she eyeballed the image, she appreciated the eye of the photographer. While she was pouring a second cup of coffee, the sound of tires crunching on gravel led Leta to the front door. Unlocking the entryway, she went to the front porch and waved a hearty good morning to Donnie.

  “Hey, Donnie, you came out to do some measuring?”

  “Yes Ma’am. I’m hoping to show you a few sketches and get the general idea of how you plan to use the porch, whether seasonal or year-round,” Donnie said, tucking his beard inside of his shirt.

  “You start your measuring,” Leta said. “Do you need coffee? I have a fresh pot.”

  “I could use a cup when I’m done,” he replied, pulling out his measuring tape, starting at the far end of the house and coming to the door and the small porch.

  In her mind, Leta could see two Adirondack chairs with heavy quilts for the cooler evenings along with stands to hold her coffee cup and knitting if she did such a thing. “Donnie, I have to ask, do you have a contractor’s license and a builder’s permit to do this work?”

  “No, Ma’am, I don’t,” he said, pausing, hoping it wouldn’t take him out of the running for doing the job. He needed the money.

  “When you leave here, go by and see Evan and make sure you have the necessary licenses and permits,” she told him. “It protects you and me, especially if a heavy snow comes and knocks the whole thing down. I have to prove to the insurance company that the work was done by a legit businessman.”

  “What if the work was done by your husband and his friend? You don’t need a license for that, do you? I mean, people insure their homes and do work themselves,” Donnie said.

  “Humor me and get the licenses,” she replied. “In the long run, if there are more jobs around Meredith, I have a licensed contractor I can go to that I trust to get good work done at a fair price. I don’t know anyone else here, and I have more work that will need to get done.”

  Donnie didn’t answer as he took the cup of Joe, turning his head at the sound of more tires crunching on the gravel drive. The expression on Leta’s face indicated she didn’t know the people in the vehicle, and she hadn’t been expecting company. He felt protective of her and stood in front of the stairs to block the entryway from anyone who would come a calling when her man wasn’t home. He relaxed when he spotted his wife in the passenger seat of one of the vehicles.

  “Marisa! What’re you doing here?” Donnie asked, feeling defensive that his wife was coming to check up on what he was doing. The situation only looked worse when he spotted the pack of cackling hyenas she’d brought with her. “Just great.”

  “Donnie that’s your wife, right?”

  “Yeah, and a pack of rabid hyenas. Don’t let them inside your house and sure as heck don’t let them push you around,” he warned.

  “Honey, I’m from College Park in the A.T.L. Ain’t nothing these women can bring that I can’t handle,” she said, smiling and leaning on the porch railing.

  “Ms. Leta, they’re not nice women. There’s a reason your husband keeps to himself, and all of it leans towards self-preservation,” he said, looking at her with genuine fear in his eyes.

  “Well, hello there,” a big bosom brunette called out. She wore high heels, skintight jeans, and a cropped top to accentuate the breasts she’d paid a great deal of money to own. Leta’s eyes couldn’t help but notice the giant moose knuckle imprinted in the front of the too tight pants. “We wanted to drop by and welcome you to Meredith.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it,” Leta said, looking the three women over. Not one of them carried a pie or a basket of fruit. She deemed them to be hostile, Marisa included, therefore she would treat them as a threat unless the women proved otherwise.

  “I’m Darla, this is Jean, and you already know Marisa,” the brunette said.

  “Nice to meet you all. What can I do for you on this glorious Monday morning?”

  The strawberry blonde in the middle, who had been identified as Jean, stepped forward. “I’m not gonna mince my words. I came out of curiosity. I wanted to know what kind of woman married the town grump,” she said to receive a punch in her shoulder from Darla.

  “The town grump?”

  “Yes, that man has not smiled in the fifteen years that he’s been back in Meredith!” Darla said, waving pink polished fingernails in the air. “Lord, he don’t even smile when he starts the annual races or anything. I’m simply curious as to how you two met and if he ever smiles at you?”

  “That is an odd thing to ask a woman about her husband,” Leta replied.

  “See, I told you guys. He must be hell in bed,” Jean said. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Leta lifted the cup of coffee to her lips, providing no expression to the women. The last thing she planned to do was to answer the question either directly or inadvertently. She felt good holding onto the knowledge that these three women didn’t already possess the answer to the question.

  Marisa stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Leta. I told them about the improvements you wanted to do, and Jean’s husband runs a manufactured home business, which is about to go under, so I thought, maybe if you got to know the wives, you’d bring their husbands some business like you have with my Donnie.”

  “Manufactured homes? Like double wide trailers?” Leta inquired.

  “No, the houses are prefabricated,” Jean interjected. “Last month during a move of a twofer, that is a house with two sides, one of the sides fell off a truck into Lake Winnipesaukee. The person, I’m not calling no names, but his initials start with Milton Stanley, refused to pay for the cost, even though my Jake said he’d provide another half at no cost. However, the time to manufacture a new half, which included the primary living space, kitchen, guest bath, living and dining, all fell in the lake.”

  “So he is left with a half of a house that includes what exactly?”

  “The master ensuite and laundry room. It does have a large walk in closet,” Jean offered, “I just thought I’d come by and let you know because I know this house hasn’t been updated like −ever. Evan’s mother, God bless her soul, was married to a grump as well, so I know the inside of that place probably feels like sad memories and unwanted guests at Thanksgiving. I wanted to be neighborly and offer you a reasonable chance to upgrade.”

  “How reasonable?”

  “About ten grand reasonable,” Jean said. “It won’t save my husband’s business, but it will keep him from going under with his ass stuck in the air. Fifteen grand can get it installed in less than a week.”

  “Less than a week,” Leta repeated.

  “The half is on the lot. It has plastic sheeting to protect it from the elements,” Jean remarked. “I think it can be attached to that side of the house,
knock out that one window, and make a door, and you can do new sheetrock, but it comes with an amazing bathroom and a pretty large, modern master bedroom. Come to the lot and take a look.”

  “Address?”

  Jean passed her a card. “It’s not far from the town hall,” Jean said.

  “I’ll go and take a look, then talk it over with Evan, and we’ll let you know if the half of a house will work for us,” Leta said.

  Darla, who was leaned against the late model Mercedes, stared at Leta, the woman no one knew anything about who simply appeared on Friday to marry to town meanie. Had it not been for Evan’s teen years in Meredith, most people would have assumed the man was either asexual or gay. He’d never been known to flirt with anyone, and in the past fifteen years, no one, at least that she knew of, had dated the man.

  “Oh piss on your half a house, Jean,” Darla said. “What I want to know is, how is he as a husband? As far as we know, the man has never dated anyone in this town, and I know he hasn’t been in this shack jacking it for fifteen years. Then all of a sudden you pop up, and now you guys are married. What’s the scoop? Has Evan been down with the swirl all this time and sneaking around to get himself some chocolate loving?”

  “Jean,” Leta said, “I will stop by this afternoon to look at the house. Donnie, can you measure the right side of the house and give me elevations as well as an assessment of how far down it has to be dug to set the anchors?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, I’m on it,” Donnie said, going around the side of the house.

  “Thank you ladies for stopping by,” Leta offered, waving a quick farewell before leaving the porch and securing herself inside the home. The list she needed to clear today had been altered with a stop by J & J Pre-Fab Homes and a visit to her husband’s job. She had an idea of making a wonderful lunch to share with him over his desk. Maybe there was a nice park bench nearby to share a cozy meal at midday. “Make Evan some lunch.”

  She wrote it down on the list, then went off to grab a hot shower. For some odd reason, she felt sticky all over even though it wasn’t nearly as hot as Georgia. The next stop would be the town square and lunch with her husband. Leta’s eyes grew wide in a sudden epiphany that hadn’t truly been clear until this exact moment.

  “Oh my God, I’m married to that man, and right now I could be incubating his child!” She touched her belly and let out a squeal. It was going to be a good day.

  Chapter Ten- Agreeableness

  With lunch for two with fresh fruit loaded inside of the pack along with slices of sharp white cheddar cheese, Leta stopped at the corner Quickie Mart to purchase two bottles of sparkling waters. Every eye in the place focused on her as she made her purchase with cash, avoided eye contact with the gawkers, and moseyed with sure steps to the rental. The car would be returned to the rental agency on Friday after her vehicle was scheduled to arrive along with her household goods on Thursday.

  A few people had come outside the store to watch her drive off, as if she waltzed into the convenience store and shopped with one boob hanging out of her blouse. At some point, and Leta wasn’t sure when, everything in this new world of hers would normalize. Today wasn’t that day. Tomorrow didn’t appear to be promising either, but she was in New Hampshire. To her left on Main Street, she spotted the Public Library. Leta made a mental note to come back there tomorrow for a bit of research and to possibly make a friend. As awful as Claudia was as a friend in her actual life, she was a constant which had been removed from the equation. A tug at Leta’s heart reminded her she needed to place a call to her lifelong friend and explain things from her perspective.

  However, today wasn’t that day. She wasn’t planning to lie about tomorrow and promise to get it done then either. The same went for her parents. Later she’d check in with her mother to say hi, but that would be the extent of the conversation until Trevor arrived. She’d leave it up to her big brother to break the news. True, it was the coward’s way of dealing with conflict, but having a judge for a father and a practicing attorney for a mother made explanations without a two-inch-thick manila folder filled with facts and reality, impossible. She had gladly escaped for a simpler way of life. A man. A house. A family. That’s all she wanted.

  A bit further down the road she spotted the large sign of J & J Pre-Fab Homes. Signaling to make the right turn onto Lake Street, Leta pulled into the lot. There it sat as big as day, half of a house partially covered in plastic. She parked the vehicle and stepped out just as a round-bellied man, who was clean shaven with an all-American haircut and a dimple in his chin, walked over.

  “Hey there, can I help you?” he asked.

  “Jean sent me by to take a look at this half of house,” Leta said, “and she told me you were interested in having it taken off your hands. I would like to look inside and take a peek about first if that’s okay?”

  “Jean, my wife Jean?” he asked, surprised that his better half knew this woman.

  “Unless you know another Jean,” Leta said, providing a warm smile. “I’m Leta Eaton, Evan’s wife. I want to update the old homestead, but in a cost-efficient manner. Also in a timely manner. As I understand it, we only have about a good two months before the cold sets in.”

  “Jake Foley,” he said, offering her his hand, ignoring everything else she’d said. Leta accepted it with a firm shake. “Southern accent...Georgia?”

  “Born and bred. Can we take a look?”

  “Sure. Sure, this way please,” he said, leading Leta to an opening and pulling back the plastic. “Watch your step coming up. The master bedroom is 16x18 with a walk-in closet. It has a whirlpool tub, stand up shower, and double vanities. There is also an additional bedroom that is 11 x10, another bathroom with a single vanity sink and basic tub, and here is the laundry room.”

  “How much?” Leta asked.

  “You want to buy this?” Jake asked.

  Leta faced him head on. Her eyes connected with his, and she asked in a clear voice, enunciating each word as if the man were hard of hearing. He watched her mouth, still not sure if he heard her correctly.

  “I want to buy this. Are you interested in selling, and if so, how much? Also do you have the team, which I’m sure you do, to install this as an attachment to my current home. If so, can you get it done in the next month, and how much will all of that cost?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said honestly. “We...I mean I’ve never sold a half of a house before. This is really Jean’s thing. I’m just the handsome face of the company. She pushed me up front to do the man talking, but I really hate this job.”

  Leta didn’t miss a beat, transitioning from customer to would be confidant, “Does Jean know how you feel?”

  “She doesn’t and each time I try to explain it to her she tries to fix stuff. We’re nearly broke, this company is falling to pieces, and if I had my way, I would give this to you and move to Miami. It’s so frickin’ cold here in the winter. I truly kinda hate it here,” Jake said, shocked at his honesty with a complete stranger.

  “I hear you. Jean said if you didn’t sell this half a house that you’d go under,” Leta replied. “She said ten grand would keep you from losing the business. Fifteen to do a complete install in less than a week. What say you?”

  “Ms. Eaton, I’m going to unload this half a house to you at cost. That includes the pay for the workers to install it starting tomorrow and you have a deal,” Jake said.

  “You don’t want to discuss this with Jean first?”

  “She didn’t bother to discuss selling this half with me, and she told you all our business first before offering to sell you my latest failure.”

  “So, tell me what it cost and how much the final price will be?”

  “All in, ten grand, with install in a week,” Jake said. “I will take your shake as a done deal. Bring me half the payment today and we’ll be out tomorrow to get started.”

  “Let me go and talk to Evan, and let’s make some magic,” she said, snapping a few photos to show her husband.
“Thank you.”

  “No, thank you for listening. I don’t know what came over me, telling you all that stuff. I don’t even know you,” Jake said.

  “Believe it or not, Mr. Foley, that is not the weirdest thing that has happened to me in the past 72 hours,” she replied, offering a soft smile. “I’ll be back this afternoon one way or another. Have a good day.”

  “Enjoy your lunch,” Jake said, looking around the broken half of his wife’s dream. He wasn’t a businessman. Construction was his thing and he’d come from a blue-collar family of men who worked with their hands. Jean had wanted this for him, but he had never wanted it for himself. There was no way to tell her he was glad the business failed, but he was. Since losing the other half of the house into the lake, business had completely stopped as if people had lost faith in him.

  Jake didn’t want to admit, but he’d lost faith in himself. The woman. Evan’s wife. Where did she come from and why had he opened up and told her everything he’d been afraid to say to his wife for the past two years? She made him feel calm. Relaxed in an odd way.

  “I like her,” Jake said. “Evan, you lucky cuss.”

  EVAN SAT BEHIND THE desk, cursing a blue streak in his head. It was her first day at home all alone without him. What if a bear came out of the woods and attacked Leta when he wasn’t home to defend his lovely wife? He imagined a gang of rowdy bikers coming through town on their way to the lake for some rest and relaxation and spotting his sexy better half. He had a vision of her trying to fight them off as the big one in the front threw her over his shoulder and tossed a big meaty thigh over the leg of his hog, his fat hands and thick fingers popping the clutch and poor Leta screaming for him to come and save her.

  “That’s it,” he said aloud, getting to his feet and grabbing his lunch bag. Evan didn’t care if he only had an hour for lunch and half of that would be wasted on the trip home and back. Leta needed him and he planned to be there.