by Jill Bisker
I looked around for some paper towels to wipe down the countertop. Shuddering, I tried not to think of the germs that were probably multiplying on every surface. The cabinet doors were covered with years of accumulated dirt and grease, and I had to try not to look too closely at anything in general until I was able to devote the time to some deep cleaning. Finding the towels and some Formula 409 under the sink I quickly wiped down a small area for my coffee maker. I set my machine on the counter, pulled out my coffee, sugar and creamer, and realized I needed to wash my cup from last night. I wanted to kick myself when I realized I didn’t remember to pack any spoons.
There had to be spoons in the kitchen somewhere. I first tried the top drawer to the right of the sink, but it seemed lodged tight. Giving up on that one, I pulled on the one below. It moved slightly but seemed to be jammed by whatever was inside. I shook it back and forth and tried to clear what was wedged against the top but it was having none of it. I growled at it, but, of course, that didn’t work either. Things just weren’t going my way lately.
Taking a deep breath, I reasoned that if the drawer opened a tiny amount back and forth, I could somehow jiggle it enough to dislodge whatever was stuck and get it opened. I leaned down and tried to look inside the small opening to see what was blocking it, but it was too dark for me to make out anything. I rattled the drawer some more, slowly and gently first, then loudly and frantically when nothing else would work. Totally disgusted, I slammed it closed one last time, straining my wrist in the process. I swore at it and shook my wrist out, but I was not going to give up. In one final act of desperation I gripped the drawer handle with both hands, planting one foot firmly against the lower drawers, and pulled as hard as I could. Suddenly, I felt something release and the drawer came flying out of the cabinet. A variety of objects flew past me as I spun around and lost my balance, landing in a heap on the ugly linoleum. Sitting on the floor, I rotated my shoulders and neck to make sure I hadn’t hurt myself and then started to laugh self-consciously, grateful no one had seen me fly across the room.
I looked at what was strewn about the floor and saw a hammer, nails, screwdrivers, a wrench, other assorted tools, pencils, a flashlight with batteries that leaked out, a wooden folding tape measure, and one fork but no spoon. I crawled about picking up the objects, tossing them into the drawer, then inserted it back into its opening. It puzzled me, because the drawer wasn’t that full, and I wondered what had blocked it from opening. Maybe the hammer got wedged in crookedly somehow. Talk about a junk drawer. Not knowing what I might find next, I sat back on my heels and slowly pulled on the next drawer down and started to laugh softly again. Well, who doesn’t need underwear and socks in the kitchen? There had to be more to that story. My mother hadn’t mentioned any dementia in my grandfather’s health, but maybe she hadn’t seen it in her limited dealings with him.
I rose to my feet and moved across the room, trying other drawers. Finally, in the drawer next to the refrigerator I found some silverware. “It’s always in the last place you look,” I muttered as I proceeded to pop my plastic, single-brew pod into my new coffee maker to brew a hot cup of life-giving elixir, and in two minutes I was sipping my hot beverage, feeling like I could take on the world.
Glancing out the window, I noticed the morning beckoning. I walked to the back door and stepped outside, smelling the fresh morning air. The thaw had been out of the ground for weeks and the ground was damp and fragrant with new growing grass. Minnesota winters are notoriously long, and it made the springtime feel that much more welcome.
The wood patio badly needed a coat of varnish, but the structure seemed sound. There were two battered orange and green striped lawn chairs folded up and standing against the house. Next to the patio were some stray tulips and the red and yellow colors greeted me happily, but otherwise the area was devoid of any homey touches. It could be quite cute with flower pots, I thought, making a mental note to pick up some geranium planters.
I shook a chair out to disturb anything that might be living in it and sat down to enjoy the morning. It was a brisk, spring morning but my steaming coffee kept my hands warm. I decided to give myself ten more minutes to enjoy the morning, then I would have to get back to work. With the warm sun on my face, I settled into the chair and enjoyed listening to the birds chirping.
Extending my ten minutes to fifteen, I went back inside feeling rejuvenated. There was sunlight streaming in the dirty kitchen windows, and the house no longer seemed quite so dark. There is something about the light in the morning, something golden and encouraging, especially in the spring. I was going to need all the energy I could muster to get this house in shape. I decided to start on the kitchen first.
I made another cup of coffee and carried it with me as I went to my room to dress. Grabbing a pair of jeans, an old t-shirt and my toiletries I made my way to the bathroom. At least this room was in working order and uncluttered, although a quick scrub would be in order. It hadn’t been updated so it retained most of its charm from when it originally had been built. A large claw-footed tub dominated the space, with a pedestal sink that was charming in shape although chipped and needing repair or replacing. The floor had been covered with a blue carpet which couldn’t have been sanitary, nor was it attractive. The carpet could be easily removed and I hoped the original tiles would be under it.
I threw on the faded jeans and a green t-shirt, then braided my hair. I splashed some water on my face, no need for makeup with my filthy day ahead. I brushed my teeth and smiled at myself in the oval mirror. My bangs hung in my eyes, and I realized that they would drive me nuts. I shook my head and looked through my toiletries bag, finding a small scissors. I debated for a moment whether I should, in fact, cut my own bangs.
“Sorry, Marcie,” I apologized to my hairdresser. This was one more mistake she would have to fix at my next appointment. I gathered my bangs in a bunch between my fingertips and snipped. Releasing my hair it fell to just above my eyebrows. “Oops,” I sighed. Now they were too short, but at least they weren’t driving me crazy. Probably I should have just gone in and had Marcie do it, then I could have had her put some highlights in my mousy, dishwater hair. With a shrug of my shoulders, I studied my image in the mirror again. It had been a while since I’d done anything for myself. I’d been so depressed lately I was lucky to wash my hair, let alone have it professionally done. My skin was too pale after the long winter. The dark circles beneath my blue eyes gave away the restless, sleepless nights that had plagued me the last several months. I used to think my small pug nose and too wide smile were cute. Now I felt like the life had been beaten out of me and I just felt plain and unattractive.
Another knock at the front door interrupted my reverie. I supposed it was probably the racquetball team back for another try. I ran back into my bedroom to grab socks and tennis shoes before I headed downstairs. Trying to be an adult, I decided not to hide and hoped I could summon up a polite rejection. I peeked out the window to see who it was and my heart fell to my stomach.
It was Saundra.
Chapter Four
Large green eyes caked with eye shadow and mascara peered at me through the panes of glass in the door. A middle-aged woman in a younger woman’s clothes wiggled her fingers at me, smiling with a big, toothy grin rimmed in bright red lipstick. What was she doing here? Her face was unnaturally inert as she smiled at me, and I wondered how long it had been since her last Botox treatment. I was fascinated yet repelled by the unnatural combination of human flesh and artificial enhancements.
It occurred to me that I really needed to put a lock on the three season porch screen door so I wouldn’t end up face to face with a monstrosity like this, unprepared. I pulled the door open and tried to smile, but my face felt frozen in a fake grin almost as unnatural as hers. Our last meeting at my grandfather’s funeral had been less then cordial, and I felt another confrontation coming. She was convinced that there was a second will which named her as a beneficiary. As I looked around the house I w
ondered—beneficiary of what?
“Why Sandra, what brings you here?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. ”It’s Saundra, dear,” she simpered. I took in her glossy, red hair piled on top of her head, and the ridiculously tight fuchsia blouse with ruffles that accentuated way too much cleavage for me at ten o’clock in the morning. It looked as if she’d gained a few pounds since she’d purchased her outfit, unless she deliberately bought it two sizes too tight. Her flesh protruded from the top of her black pencil skirt making it look as if she’d purchased it from the junior section of Macy’s. I wondered where on earth she could be headed dressed like this, then surmised she was probably on her way to the country club to pick out her next victim. I was surprised she could be outside on a day with so much sun. Wait, was that a slight wisp of smoke coming off her shoulders?
I grinned in earnest now, knowing by her reaction that I’d irritated her almost as much as she had irritated me just by being there.
“Hum, yes?”
“I heard you had moved in and I wanted to welcome you back home.”
“Well, isn’t that nice? Thanks for coming by. Actually, I was just on my way out. Connie is coming home today and I promised to pick her up at the airport.”
“Really,” she went on as if she hadn’t even heard me. “I heard you were going to fix the old place up.”
“The old rumor mill in this little town just keeps on turning, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, we do like to take care of our own, don’t we? Since you haven’t been here for many years I wanted to recommend some good contractors that I’ve worked with. You know there are so many unscrupulous people out there.”
“That’s so kind of you. If you just write down some names I’ll check their references later.”
“References? I’m giving you my personal assurances they are reputable people.” Her smile took on a harder quality as I smiled innocently at her. I would sooner have all my fingernails bitten off by a beaver than take any advice from her.
“Thanks for coming by, Sandra, but I really have to go.” It was against my nature to be this rude to someone, but I just couldn’t deal with my dead grandfather’s ex-girlfriend right now.
“It’s SAUNDRA!” I heard her yelp as I closed the door.
“Whatever.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. I did have to leave to pick up Connie. Just not quite yet. I couldn’t waste any more time on BS. I had work to do.
Rolling up my sleeves, literally and metaphorically, I made my way to the kitchen. I gazed around, trying to come up with a plan. Where do you start on a mess like this?
Although there wasn’t much space left in the dining room, I started by stacking all the boxes and miscellaneous things in the spare spaces between other boxes. Unfortunately, I could hardly walk into the dining room now but I didn’t have time to go through anything in detail today.
To my surprise, after moving some of the boxes out of the way, the small door I could see led to a tiny bathroom that had a functioning toilet and sink. While it was dusty, it was cleaner than I would have expected. Looking under the sink I found disinfectant, plastic gloves, some scrub brushes, a large bucket and some garbage bags. I was prepared to do battle with the grime.
I spent the next several hours cleaning the kitchen until my knees hurt and my back ached. Pausing to admire my handiwork, I looked up at the clock on the stove and my heart jumped. One o’clock! I needed to leave to go get Connie. Not only that, I suddenly realized I was starving since I hadn’t eaten anything all morning. I would have to find a drive-thru on the way.
Looking down at my dirty clothes and disheveled appearance, I realized there was no time to change my clothes or get cleaned up. I shrugged and dismissed the thought. I knew Connie wouldn’t even notice so I just couldn’t worry about it. I found my keys and grabbed my purse, then jumped in my old beat up Civic and headed out to the airport, trying to make good time without getting a speeding ticket. Lunch would have to wait.
After getting cut off twice and nearly missing my exit on the interstate, I parked my car at the Minneapolis-St.Paul Airport short-term lot and rushed in to the baggage claim area. I looked up at the clock and noticed I was only twenty minutes past Connie’s arrival time. It would take at least that long for her to deplane and for her luggage to make it to the carousels. I scanned the monitors to see if her plane had landed yet, then groaned. Her flight was delayed two hours. God, how I hated airports.
Since all of the nicer chairs were taken I found an uncomfortable plastic chair, positioning myself out of the way so people weren’t constantly walking past me. From my seat I glanced around, looking to see if there were any shops where I could kill some time. Disappointed, I realized all the good places were upstairs by the departure concourses. The best I could hope for was a coffee, but I’d already had my quota for the day. Besides, I was already sitting and I didn’t feel like getting up now after spending the whole morning scrubbing a filthy kitchen.
Slouching down in my chair, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. What a fiasco. I could still see my mother and Aunt Shelly in the restaurant where they presented me with their brilliant plan. When I walked in I could see the two silver heads tilted toward each other whispering as they finalized the scheme born of their unholy alliance.
I should have known something was up when they invited me to my favorite bistro. They were seated in a booth by the large floor to ceiling windows, and as I sat down, a waiter arrived with a pineapple-infused vodka martini for me, before I’d even had time to say hello. The sun was shining on the ornamental pond outside, with the fountain spraying mist into the air and creating a full-colored rainbow. I knew there was trouble afoot. They were both smiling so sweetly, sugar wouldn’t melt in their mouths.
“It’ll just be a short while until you’re both back on your feet,” Mom said, taking a sip of her white wine.
“Connie’s never been on her feet,” I told her nastily, then remembered my manners. “Sorry, Aunt Shelly.”
“Cattiness does not become you, Laney. There was a time when that was true,” my aunt agreed, “but you may be surprised at how much she’s changed. I think it’s a great idea for you two to be rooming together for a while. You two used to be very close and it’s time to start being a family again. You may be a good influence on one another.”
“I don’t want to be any influence on anyone. I just want to work through my troubles in my own way.” I hadn’t added that I was tired of living up to expectations that weren’t my own.
“It’ll be a help to us,” my mother emphasized. “You know Shelly and I can’t fix that house up ourselves. And we’ll never sell it for what it’s worth looking the way it does now, filled with all the accumulated ‘treasures’ our father brought home. It can be your own special decorating project—we’ll give you free rein. You can take before and after photos for that designer’s portfolio you’ve always talked about putting together. We’ve been praying for an answer, Laney, and I think this is it.”
I knew there was no use arguing. I looked across the table at the two little old ladies. They could be twins sitting there with their short cropped silver hair, crisp white slacks and complimentary aqua and pink spring blazers. They looked so hopeful but I didn’t see how I could possibly be the answer to someone else’s prayers. I sure hadn’t had much hope lately. I knew it was hard for them. Both had lost their husbands in the last year, and now their father. How could I say no? Besides, there would be no peace until I agreed with this scheme. I should be grateful—I secretly liked the idea of fixing up the place in my own way. I had always dreamed of becoming a decorator. This project might actually help me turn that dream into a reality. Besides, at the moment I had nowhere else to go and no other plans. I could store my furniture and possessions at her place, but I certainly couldn’t live with Mom. That was a special kind of hell I would stave off as long as I could.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But tell Connie I’m in charge.”
&nbs
p; And now here I was—waiting for a cousin I’d hardly seen in years, and a big pile of work waiting for me back at the house. At least my life was getting more interesting.
I stood at the terminal, suddenly aware that while Connie didn’t care how I looked, the people around me were probably thinking I was a homeless person who wandered in to sleep on these uncomfortable chairs. I hadn’t taken a shower, I wasn’t wearing any make-up, I was sure I smelled, wearing an old ripped sweatshirt and faded jeans stained from bleach and dirt. Could I look more like a vagrant? I was never one to worry about looking perfect, but even this was pushing my limits. I looked at the other people around me and realized that, in reality, they could probably care less. No one was giving me a second look.
Turning towards the escalator I saw Connie floating down to my level. She was wearing a long, printed, silky dress, and her golden hair hung in soft ringlets past her shoulders. She was wearing an assortment of necklaces that looked as if she had just flung on whatever was available, yet on her they looked totally charming. It always took me by surprise how beautiful she was. She didn’t even have to try. I smiled when I noticed a young man next to her, staring with a bemused look on his face. Another one bites the dust, I thought. But who could blame him? Connie had a delightful way of making the most mundane event fun and exciting. You couldn’t help but fall for her. Perhaps my catty comments were more out of envy than I cared to admit. As she walked towards me her smile lit up the room.
“Cuz!” she exclaimed gathering me into her arms for a tight hug, as if we were still the best of friends. “What a treat to have you pick me up. I can’t wait to tell you all about my trip. It was crazy!”
The man who had been gaping at her stopped next to us. I started to feel uncomfortable as he stood there listening to us while Connie didn’t even acknowledge his presence. I looked at him and snapped, “What?”
