“So who’s this?” Thomas Avgerakis nodded to Joshua, who’d hung back near the door, still clutching the bouquet of flowers.
“Dad, this is my boyfriend Joshua. Josh, this is my dad.” They shook.
“So what do you do out there in Seattle?” Her father cut right to the chase. He’d worked in the same manufacturing plant since high school, and was now president of the union.
“I’m an engineer.”
“You a union man?”
“No, sir,” Joshua said.
Melina winced. Wrong answer, strike one.
“You work with your hands?”
“No, sir.”
Two strikes.
“You do any real work?” Thomas was souring on this stranger. Melina started to interject, but Joshua stopped her.
“Yes, sir, I do. I design and test pacemakers. It’s not in a factory, it’s more like a computer lab, but it’s real work and it helps people.” Joshua lifted his chin, and Thomas’s expression mellowed. “The FDA just reviewed my team’s pacemaker design that could have a ripple effect on other devices.”
“He just got a promotion,” Melina supplied.
“So you don’t exactly get your hands dirty,” Thomas said, still frowning.
Just drop it! Your stupid posturing, your stupid yardstick for success. Don’t you know we can have success on our own terms?
Joshua wasn’t cowed.
“Actually, I do,” he said. “I just finished rebuilding a classic sports car—it didn’t run, and half of its original parts were missing or ruined. And I help Melina in Momo’s garden. We built a cat barrier and a wheelchair ramp. I’m not afraid of hard work.”
He’s saying: I’m not afraid of you. Melina cheered inwardly. Go, Joshua!
“Since when do you do yard work?” Lorene eyeballed her fashion-conscious daughter’s jeans and T-shirt skeptically. “Since when do you look like that? Did you get fired?”
Joshua caught Melina’s arm. “Actually, Melina’s a senior account executive—she earned another promotion last year. She has her own office,” he added, his voice rising, knowing that detail would stick. “And she just doubled the contract for Randall Automotive, the company’s biggest client in Seattle. So they’re not firing her—they’re celebrating.”
Joshua’s anger built. “And it doesn’t matter how Melina looks, because she knows what matters. What matters to her is taking care of this little old lady, Momo, who needs our help, and so she’s on her hands and knees in the garden or covered in dust cleaning that woman’s home and she doesn’t care how she looks. She cares about Momo.”
Like a summer thunderstorm, Joshua’s outburst ended as suddenly as it came. He looked down at the flowers, the rumpled cellophane squeezed in his fist.
“Dad, I’m here because I care about you,” Melinda said quietly. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, but I hate the way you guys are always judging my choices and my life.”
“We just want what’s best for you—” Lorene started.
“No, Mom, you want what’s best for you. You wanted a concert violinist, and now you’ve got one. And Dad, you wanted a son to watch sports with, not someone practicing for hours, but David’s going places you never even imagined.”
The calm in Melina’s voice spread through the room. This is the way it was, and is, she said, but not the way it’s going to be. This was the turning point, as parent and child finally recognized each other as adults.
There were no apologies, not yet. Joshua and Melina each took seats in silence.
“Mr. Avgerakis, I understand you like baseball,” Joshua offered, gently. “There’s a playoff game tomorrow. When we get you home, are you allowed to drink any beer?”
“Of course not,” Lorene frowned, just as Thomas answered, “Absolutely!”
***
Conversation was still difficult, so Joshua and Melina threw themselves into caring for Thomas, Lorene and their house—restocking the refrigerator and pantry, weatherizing the outdoor hose bibs and raking acres of leaves. Lorene watched from her perch at the kitchen table, smoking and making small comments about how they weren’t doing it right.
But Melina knew she was doing what needed to be done, and though Lorene wouldn’t acknowledge it, Melina chose to believe she was grateful.
Joshua gradually earned their approval by talking sports and cars with Thomas and cooking for the family, although Lorene rejected with suspicion every unusual dish Joshua proposed before he finally settled on simple fare like roasted chicken.
Meanwhile, Melina shared more with her parents about her life in Seattle in two days than she had in the past five years. She relaxed, becoming less guarded.
But the truce was wearing thin, and Melina knew they should leave before it was spoiled by the wrong words taken the wrong way. They arranged return flights and left, Melina giving her father a kiss on the cheek, and her mother an awkward hug.
As a taxi took them to the airport, Melina let out a sigh that had been building for days. She took Joshua’s hand.
“Joshua. Thank you. For … you know.”
“I know.”
“They liked you, you know. They probably like you more than they like me.”
“Not true,” he said. “I’m glad I convinced your dad I’m not just a pencil pusher, but what really matters is that your parents see who you are now.”
“I was never good enough,” Melina said, her expression clouding.
“You’re right,” Joshua said. “You were never a good enough violinist, or student, or whatever they expected you to be. But that’s OK, because you turned out to be something unexpected. And now you’ve shown them that unexpected can be great.”
Melina leaned on his shoulder as the taxi shot through traffic on the freeway, taking them home.
THIRTY-ONE
Fat drops of rain fell as Joshua and Aussie neared their building, prompting a sprint for the last several blocks. Joshua breathed hard as he shoved his key in his mailbox and pulled out the contents.
Junk, junk, credit card bill, junk, magazine. And an unstamped envelope from building management. Joshua pulled out a single sheet of paper.
Dear Tenant, the letter began:
We are writing to inform you that your tenancy will be terminated at the end of your lease. The building owners and investors intend to convert the apartment units into condominiums. Accordingly, we will undertake a major renovation of units as leases expire as well as renovating all common areas. Please contact building management should you have any questions, and thank you for your cooperation.
Joshua’s vision constricted to nothing but the letter shaking in his hands. My home? His cloth grocery bag slid off his shoulder and he felt an earthquake tremor, as if the floor was buckling beneath him.
After all these years of moves and transplantation, he still felt completely unprepared for this. As a child, he knew the places he lived weren’t permanent. But here, he believed he’d finally get to stay in one place, his first real and permanent home, as long as he liked.
Joshua trudged to his apartment on autopilot, following Aussie. The dog sensed something was wrong—even his lapping in his water dish seemed subdued.
Joshua dumped groceries and mail on the kitchen counter and slouched on his couch. Where will I go next? I didn’t think I’d have to start over again so soon.
His phone chirped and he saw a text message from Melina.
Mercury Grill @ 7? Bring the boys.
He was really and truly not in the mood to slug down cocktails with Melina’s chattering friends. He didn’t want to call his basketball buddies to show up and leer at them either. Although Andrea and Derek seemed to have a real relationship budding, the rest of his single friends weren’t there for conversation.
Meh. No thanks. Have fun without me.
Joshua sent the text and reached for Aussie’s neck, fingers scrubbing beneath the thick, multicolored coat. He found the itchy spot above Aussie’s shoulder blades and the dog’
s leg twitched. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Twitch, twitch, twitch.
This dog can make anything better, Joshua thought, even having to move.
Joshua finally wrenched himself up from the couch and started putting away the groceries, wondering if Juan and Eric got their letter.
Maybe I should buy a house? He rolled the idea around in his head. His recent promotion and a substantial raise put a modest home within reach. I’m ready for a permanent home.
***
Hello, you’ve reached Stephanie Hunt, the perfect partner for your House Hunt. I’m out looking at new homes on the market, so leave a message and the listing number of the house you want to tour, and I’ll call you back shortly. Thanks!
“Steph, this is Josh. You remember how you said my apartment could easily convert to condos? Well, they’re doing it. I’m so bummed I can hardly stand it. I guess maybe we should start looking for a house for me. Give me a ring back and tell me something funny, OK?”
***
It’s Mark. You know what to do.
“Hey, Mark. What do you have going on tonight? I got some news—looks like I’ll need to swap for your truck again. I have to move. Call me back when you can. Or show up with beer.”
***
Hey, it’s Charlie. We’re offshore until mid-November, so I’m not calling you back, no matter how many messages you leave. So keep it short. And wish us good weather and good fishing!
“Hey bro, it’s Josh. Sorry it’s been a while. I was just thinking we should hang out after your season’s over, you know? Maybe I can fly up there for Thanksgiving? Dad and Serena are back in Turkey now; he emailed me a couple of weeks ago. Anyway, take care of yourself, be safe on the boat. What are you going for this trip? Halibut? Crab? Anyway, call me when you’re back on land.”
***
I’ll give you three guesses where I’m at. (pause) Nope, not there. (pause) Nope, not there, either. (long pause) Ha! I fooled you. Well, leave a message apologizing for your lack of psychic ability, and I’ll call you when I get back from my undisclosed location. Ha!
“Hey, Juan, do you know that message is getting old? Like, really, really old? Anyway, it’s Josh. I’m wondering if you got that letter today from our building manager. It sucks, man. I guess tomorrow will be the last party at your place. Give me a call when you get back in.”
***
Joshua clicked off his phone. Everyone he wanted to talk to wasn’t answering, and Melina was undoubtedly sipping cocktails with her catty hour crew.
He was restless, but not motivated enough to go out. He just wanted someone to tell him everything was going to be OK.
Joshua busied himself prep-cooking for Eric and Juan’s party the following night while halfheartedly watching another playoff game. When the game ended with an anticlimactic called-third-strike, he was still restless.
He popped popcorn and started a movie, a thriller full of car chases, crashes and special effects, knowing he would pay the next morning for staying up so late.
Just as the action was getting good, the phone rang. He almost ran to it, eager to hear a friendly voice.
“Hello?”
“Joshua Danford?”
The voice was cold, authoritative. From the caller’s tone, Joshua was certain: Everything was not going to be OK.
THIRTY-TWO
The waitress brought another tray of drinks and the girls roared with laughter. Lauren was telling her latest dating horror story, and like a fish tale, the bad date grew more awful as she spoke.
“So it was bad enough that he took a call during our date, but when he picked up, he said, ‘Hey, Babe.’ Like, babe, like a girlfriend.”
“Or a pig!” Taylor volunteered, sending the rest of them into fits of giggles.
“Seriously!” Lauren scrunched her nose. “So I had to ask, ‘Who was that?’ and you know what he told me?”
“His sister?” asked Andrea hopefully.
“His other girlfriend?” Holly stuck out her tongue.
“His mother?” offered Melina. “She could be a babe.”
The girls hooted, hysterical.
“No,” Lauren sipped her drink and sputtered. “He said it was his ex-fiancée. Can you believe he called her babe?”
“Please tell me you got out of there,” Andrea implored.
“Oh, no,” Melina said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got my money on Lauren staying for more punishment.”
Holly put a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “Seriously? You stayed?”
“What could I do?” Lauren asked, palms up. “You never know unless you try.”
“So then what happened?” Taylor pushed for the rest of the story.
“Well, our drinks came and we were talking, and he actually seemed pretty nice, but then his phone rang again.”
“No.” Holly’s face fell. “What kind of jerk doesn’t turn it off?”
“Well, this time he actually got up from the table and walked away a little bit. But he was only on the phone a couple of minutes,” Lauren added, as if this made it less rude. “And he told me he had to answer the call because there was a question with one of the contractors.”
“Oh! Is he an architect?”
“Nope,” Lauren said. “Wait for it …” She drained the last of her martini. “He said he’s building a house with his ex-fiancée!”
The girls shrieked in disbelief.
“It was her again. When he sat back down, he explained that they started building the house while they were engaged, and they put all of their money into it, and then when they broke up they had to finish it so they could sell it and go their separate ways.”
“Tell me you threw your drink in his face and left,” Melina begged. She signaled the waitress for another round of drinks, pronto.
“Um,” Lauren’s face told the truth: more punishment. “Well, we started talking again, and he was explaining the house project, and the renovation, and I was listening and still trying to at least be polite to him even though I was pretty mad, and then he got another call.”
“Three!”
“Seriously. I was pissed,” Lauren said. “And so, when he answered, I tried to interrupt him to tell him he was being rude, and you know what he did to me?”
“What?”
“He held up his finger. Like, ‘Wait a minute.’ Like a librarian does to shush you!”
“He was telling you to talk to the hand,” Andrea said, appalled.
“What a jerk,” Holly added.
“So I got up and walked out. Just like that. I didn’t say goodbye, I didn’t say anything—”
“You didn’t get out of there fast enough,” Melina concluded, as the waitress showed up with more cocktails.
“But don’t worry; that seems about par for the course these days,” Taylor shrugged it off. “So how goes it from the other side, Melina? The happily attached coupley-coupled?”
“Fine,” she said, “just fine. Joshua got a promotion.”
“Didn’t he fly out to Indianapolis with you a couple of weeks ago?” Taylor asked.
“Well, yes, he came out. He just showed up. I didn’t invite him, but it worked out all right.”
“Why didn’t you invite him?” Andrea asked. “You guys have been an item for a long time. Wasn’t it time to have him meet your family? You know, to take your relationship to the next level?”
Melina’s face darkened. She had no intention of introducing a prospective husband to her family. They would just drag her back into the banality of lower-middle-class suburban life.
“I’m not sure Joshua and I are ready for a … next level,” Melina said.
“Why not?” Holly asked. “He’s sweet and he’s smart and he’s successful. Face it, Melina, he’s a great catch.”
Melina squirmed, not ready to have this conversation. Yes, he was all the things Holly said. He’d helped her career with the expanded Randall Motors account. He’d stuck up for her around her family, even though they’d needled him. He helped Momo. He
helped anyone who asked for it.
But Joshua wasn’t the kind of guy Melina originally had in mind when she planned to catch a husband. He was sloppy, with that ratty sweatshirt and loose jeans. He drank beer, not martinis.
He had a massive, hairy dog with a quick tongue and a tendency to snuffle her crotch as a greeting. Joshua guffawed at stupid cartoons; he could quote Star Wars and Monty Python verbatim. He named his espresso machine Darth.
He was thoroughly unpretentious, not the kind of guy to steer a yacht or command a boardroom. Was he enough?
Melina steered the conversation to Andrea’s love life. “So how goes it with your blond brewer? He’s not the kind of suit you were waiting for the first night we met you.”
“Nope.” Andrea grinned. “But you know how well the suits worked out for me.” She passed her mobile phone around the table, displaying a picture of herself and Derek in front of a waterfall, sweaty and shorts-clad on a hike.
“Suit or no suit, he’s hot,” Taylor observed. “Are you guys official? Or is it just casual?”
“I don’t think Derek does casual,” Andrea reflected. “He’s serious—about making beer, and expanding the brewpub, and hiking and climbing. I get all serious about clients and legal briefs, and then he reminds me that I’m not the only one who can be intense.”
“Intense can be good … in bed,” Taylor wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, setting off a peal of giggles from around the table. “You go, girl. Maybe you’ll prove us all wrong and we’ll move our hunting expeditions to brewpubs.”
“Maybe Andrea and Derek just go to show that opposites attract,” Lauren mused.
“But can two people who seem totally wrong for each other ever be right?” Melina murmured, still reflecting on her own relationship.
Only Andrea heard her, and she pinned Melina with her gaze.
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