A Paige in Cupid's Book

by Ginny B. Nescott

  “She cleans up well, and think pie, okay?”

  “She’d be plumber putty in some guy’s hands I’m sure. Stop by when you’re done cleaning up well.” He continued to chuckle heading to the foyer.

  “What the heck is that?” Her aunt glared at Paige.

  “A doorbell,” the plumber said.

  “I thought it was broken,” Paige said, quickly leaving the kitchen and her grousing aunt.

  “I fixed it for you earlier. Forgot to test it. Works great now. It needed a battery and had a loose wire. Something common around here,” he said and laughed his way into the bathroom.

  “Not funny plumber man,” her aunt said, following him. “And here’s your O ring you left behind. How will anyone use the necessary without it?”

  “Thanks, and I promise to look for someone for you.”

  Linney just grumbled in response. Her aunt returned to Paige and shook her head. “What the hell was this match-making thing about?”

  “What? It’s called networking.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Linney ignored it and continued to glare at Paige. “No, it’s called pimping.”

  The doorbell rang again and then a knock echoed.

  “I’m my own pimp thank you very much.” At the last sentence, her aunt had yanked open the door.

  A roundish man with a goatee stood smiling nervously before them with a clipboard in hand.

  “Do you want something?” Aunt Linney snapped.

  “Not sure…but I’m here for the Wi-Fi.”

  With Linney on the doorstep and the man looking up at her, he was eyelevel with her ample, albeit, stained shirt demanding others sleep with a nurse. He clearly looked flustered.

  “Oh, you want Paige. She’s a millennial.”

  “Okay then.” The Wi-Fi man stepped in, tapping off the last of the snow from his boots.

  “Where do you need to set up?” Paige asked.

  His eyes trailed after Linney, so much so that he leaned around Paige and ignored her question.

  “I said where do you need to set up?” she repeated.

  “Wherever that interesting woman needs to do her pimp thing,” he responded.

  “What? Oh, she was just joking with me. It’s my aunt. My single Aunt Linney. How are you with pies? She bakes you know.” Paige escorted him to an alcove of the living room, ideal for any router. Partly because it was central to the house, partly because it was one of the few spaces that had been cleared out.

  “You first,” Paige later said to the Wi-Fi man after unlocking the attic door.

  He had a flashlight and seemed fearless as he walked up the creaky stairs heading to the attic. “Not bad up here. You’re safe.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” Paige said, trying to cover the goosebumps on her arms. The bulb swayed after the Wi-Fi Man pulled the chain. The light flashed onto the thickly dusty pieces of furniture.

  “Good space up here. Headroom even. Floor boards are old oak. Not bad. Think about fixing it up.”

  “Along with everything else. It’s actually one of the only places that hasn’t been hoarded to the rafters.” Paige took it in. The small cracked window looked out to the front yard, the two side ones to the meadow. The windows gave muted light through the papers covering them. Most of the flooring was in place, though the insulation looked old. More to add to the list.

  She and Wi-Fi Man negotiated where to cut in for the dish needed for Wi-Fi reception. He went down the stairs for the ladder he’d left in the upper hall. Paige began poking at the drawers of a hutch and moved to the dresser, sliding most of the drawers open to reveal empty vintage linings. One drawer wouldn’t budge.

  “Let me help. I have gloves.” He gave it a jiggle and a tug, and the drawer opened a bit. He reached in and pulled it all the way open. “Here’s the culprit.” He pulled out two small tied stacks of letters and handed them to her. Far newer letters than the ones she had previously found. She took the letters and left Wi-Fi Man to his work, thanking him and encouraging him to have a slice of pie when he was done.

  ****

  Paige danced a happy cha-cha-cha step. Her aunt joined her, holding Paige’s hips and kicking out to the sides. They sang.

  “We have lots of Wi-Fi.” Kick!

  “And the toilet flushes.” Kick!

  “We have lots of Wi-Fi.” Kick! The song continued like a conga to the kitchen with the plumber and Wi-Fi Man following just shaking their heads.

  Coffees were poured for all. Paige ended up with tea since the pot ran out. Pies were sliced and plated. One was apple cranberry with caramel. The other mixed berry. Linney and the Wi-Fi man sat at one end of the table. With beaming smiles, all four dug in nearly at the same moment. Smiles completely disappeared on two of them.

  Paige swallowed hard.

  The plumber reached for a napkin.

  The Wi-Fi Man just said, “Mmm. What is that? Salted caramel? Kind of savory, but I like salt.”

  Linney just nodded and ate a second and third bite. Paige stared in disbelief. The plumber shrugged in near horror. It was salt with a hint of apple flavor. She bit into the berry slice. Her cheeks puckered.

  Wi-Fi Man’s smile widened. “Woo wee. That berry pie has a pucker. Not too sweet.”

  “I skipped the sugar in it.” Linney said. “Better that way.”

  Wi-Fi Man seemed to agree, chomping through it.

  “Yup, not too sweet, all right,” the plumber agreed. “Great crust though. Could use some ice cream.”

  Paige was already on it. She and the plumber scooped big portions while the other two waved it away, grabbing for seconds on the pie. And then it happened.

  “Delicious pie, Linney. I’d like to pay you back and take you out,” the Wi-Fi Man said.

  “Well, I don’t even know your name,” her aunt rebuffed.

  He pointed to his uniform. It said George. “I’m George.”

  “My first husband’s middle name was George. Didn’t stick with him, it turns out. So, I better not.”

  “Just one date. I can change my name to Cedric if you like it better. It’s my middle name.”

  “I guess George will do. I work an odd schedule with hospice care,” Linney said and stopped talking.

  George let her. The other two just stared, clinging to their mugs, ice cream melting over the bitterly tangy pie slices.

  “Hmmm. Okay. Lunch. Nothing fancy,” Linney said flatly.

  “I know a great diner,” both George and Linney said at the same moment. They both stopped.

  Linney eyed him suspiciously. “You first, where’s yours?”

  He told her.

  She just nodded and ate a bite of pie. She looked him up and down. “Deal, George. It’s a deal.”

  They set up a time for Sunday.

  Paige walked the plumber out of the kitchen. “What happened back there? Did the salt get to their heads?”

  “Naw. Good plumbing does it every time. Can’t believe the same person made the crust that did those fillings.”

  “Yup, pretty hard to believe, isn’t it?” Paige looked away, guiltily.

  The plumber smiled a knowing smile and gave her the bill along with instructions of which pipes to wrap in the basement. They discussed the cost-effective placement of another bathroom at some future date. He also gave her his card.

  “Remember to call me before you turn on the outdoor shower in the summer,” he said “You two don’t look like you have change to spare, and I wouldn’t want to see a flood.”

  Paige smiled and nodded. There’s an outdoor shower?

  “Thank you again,” she said, really meaning the words.

  “You’re welcome, and you’re doing a good job trying to fix things up, including this old eyesore of a place. Call if you need help.” He seemed to mean it, too.

  He smiled and left. It was then that Paige noticed his bill. He had reduced his charges. Still pricey but reduced. She and Aunt Linney were inching toward being part of the community.

&nbs
p; Meanwhile, her aunt was in the kitchen inching toward something very different. She was becoming closer to dating a middle-aged, balding man. Thankfully, something showed promise even if it wasn’t Paige’s skills in a speedy renovation.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, nobody came, apart from one man to pick up ornately carved chairs Linney had sold to him.

  “Dust catchers,” she’d called them, but the price collected paid for the plumber’s bill.

  The rest of the day was just the two women. Linney wasn’t at the hospice job. First task was the stubborn wallpaper in Paige’s current room. Linney produced a magic tool with spikes, borrowed from a fellow nurse, and scratched the paper layers in swirls.

  “We need the window open for this part.” Her aunt informed her.

  Paige removed the paper covering the window. She screamed when she saw the bones of a tiny critter trapped between the storm window and the inner one. Her heart raced. A warm sunbeam spilled in through the window, calming her shivers. “I need to put curtains on the list of things needed.”

  “Make it ear plugs for me. My ears are ringing from your scream,” her aunt said with one finger plugged in her ear and wiggling. “I found lots of cloth in a bin downstairs. For now, look through that before buying something new.”

  Paige nodded while Linney took care of the window.

  Paige filled a bucket of hot water as she had before. Only this time, they put in a chemical adhesive remover. They applied it and waited. They started peeling and scraping. Pieces actually came off. Tiny shreds but faster than before. Linney sat, bundled on the floor working on a corner near the open window.

  “So, how’s your hospice case?” Paige asked.

  Her aunt inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Something’s not right with this one. Seems to be declining much faster. They told the family a good two months.” She shook her head. “Lucky to get two weeks. Hard when that happens. Makes it hard to soften the blow.”

  Paige stood up and put her hands on her aunt’s shoulder. Linney patted her hand. Paige massaged Linney’s neck and upper back.

  Though she grumbled about it, Linney moaned into the touch. “Keep working girl.”

  Paige moved back to her spot, scrapping off layer after layer of wallpaper. Her aunt asked her about the lay-off she had and complimented her on pursuing the recommendation. They spoke of Paige’s career, related fields, and possible positions in the area, even if it was temporary.

  Then the conversation drifted to Michael. Paige stopped and stared off dreamily.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. No, make it my sake. Go ahead, call the man. Otherwise, I won’t get any work out of you.”

  Paige took the portable landline phone from her aunt. She beamed and whispered a breathy hello to Michael, followed by, “I’m stripping.”

  “Oh, brother.” Her aunt rose, stole the phone, and put it on speaker. “She’s stripping wallpaper, and I’m here, too.”

  “Michael, help!” Paige shouted. “My aunt is asphyxiating me.”

  “No, I’m not. The window’s open.”

  “Isn’t it about twenty degrees out there?” came Michael’s rich voice.

  “Puts hair on the chest,” Linney said. “Well, mine at least. Plucked a stray hair the other day.”

  “TMI Auntie.” Paige stole back the phone. “We’re working with chemicals to get the wallpaper down.” She clicked the phone off of speaker. “When are you coming?”

  “Seems like anytime you touch me.”

  Paige’s blush was all that was needed for her aunt to let out a huge groan.

  “That wasn’t me. That was her. I mean, I didn’t make a sound like that. Well, I do but not this time.”

  Her aunt rolled her eyes and turned to her task.

  Michael chuckled. “Paige?”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t stay long. Hold on.”

  The pause felt like an eternity. Why did she get so school-girlish with him? What did he mean he couldn’t stay long?

  Aunt Linney looked over at her and smiled a cheesy grin before shaking her head and returning to the chemical peel-scrape technique. Each moment on hold made her heart race and her mind spiral. Was this handsome, incredible business man just easing into a brush-off? Why did her mind go there? No matter what, she needed to put up a brave front, didn’t she?

  Just as she nearly reached a crescendo of panic, he returned to the call. “Sorry, Flee. I’m in the middle of things here.”

  “Of course. Understandable. I guess I should let you get back to work.”

  His voice became muffled as if he were cupping the phone. “I love hearing your voice, Paige. I miss you, and I’ll try to be over tomorrow night.”

  “Oh me, too, Michael…I mean I miss you, too, not that I’m coming over.” She whapped her hand to her forehead several times for sounding so idiotic. She heard another mocking snicker from her aunt.

  Michael’s warm laugh eased her. He let out a long audible breath. Her mind reeled in a different direction, one where her pulse quickened. He wrapped up the call with his repeated assurance that he would be there the next evening and through the weekend.

  “Bye, Michael. I-I…” Her words faltered. “I’ll see you,” she said in a dreamy whisper and hung up. Silence hung in the air.

  “Well, now, you didn’t say it,” Linney pointed out.

  “Say what?” Paige straightened her posture and scraped off wallpaper. “Oh, that. Oh, Aunt Linney, it feels so right. He is coming back, isn’t he? I love the rush when he holds me or how my heart races when he’s here.” Paige smashed the sponge onto the wall, the same spot where Michael had pressed to the wall and taken her days before. She rubbed it and rubbed it.

  Her aunt shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I think the cleaning fumes are getting to you.”

  “Huh?” Paige shook herself from the reverie. She moved her hand from the spot and scrubbed hard all around, scraping where needed. “It’s more than the fumes. It’s the…the…”

  “Nuwak.”

  “New wak, old wak, whatever that is, I agree.” Paige paused. “Wait, what is that?”

  “Lust.”

  Paige thought and shook her head. “More than lust, don’t you think?”

  “Only time will tell.”

  Paige frowned.

  Her aunt sighed. “Yes, more than lust. He looks at you with something way better than lust. He looks like he cares for you.”

  “He does, doesn’t he?” Paige scraped with long smooth strokes. “He’s a good man. I never said that before with such conviction about someone I was seeing. There’s something in him that appreciates my achievements, not just my curves. Chemistry and… Oh Aunt Linney, could he be—”

  “I know where you’re going. Hope so. Don’t rush it, Squirt…but he could be. Lord knows you deserve it.”

  “We all do.” Paige inhaled with a deep sated breath. She coughed.

  “Told you the fumes were getting to you. Go dump that bucket. Hot water’ll do the rest. Let’s get this done before we take a lunch break.”

  The adhesive remover worked on walls, separating the paper, but had the opposite effect on them. Though one was twice the age of the other, in the hard-working chemical haze of the past few days, the two women became closer than they had in all the years before. They both knew it, but neither said it.

  ****

  Aching from the scraping, Paige stretched and balanced in yoga poses in the kitchen while Linney whipped together a lunch. They talked, teased and laughed.

  Linney tried to bend into one or two of the moves with Paige but groaned. “Paige, sorry, but I think fat women don’t do yoga. I feel like a certain doughboy, or girl in my case. Good title for a book though.”

  Paige disagreed and helped her aunt stretch more, holding her in a pose. They ate and talked about the letters written to Grandma Ida and Great Aunt Amelia that Paige had skimmed.

  “I thought they would be all love letters. Most were about crops or
apples or weather. Amelia’s letters were a bust. I’m named after her, but the only thing I know is that she was pined after.”

  “Pining’s good.”

  “Yes, but no details at all. Who knows what they looked like? He could have been skinny as a rail or have thighs the size of tree trunks.”

  “Worse if hers were the huge thighs.”

  They both laughed but Paige stopped long enough to assess her own thighs and shook her head.

  “Don’t be disappointed. People were repressed back then. Lots of babies, though, so something must have been going on.” Linney bit into a piece of non-sugared berry pie.

  Paige followed suit except her pie had sugar sprinkled liberally over it. “I almost gave up on the letters until I came across one from Grandpa Benny.”

  “Oh?”

  “He wrote to Grandma Ida about how he was clearing stones from some blazing hot field. He described how he watched her coming to him with a thermos of water. He said he drank the whole thing, but it didn’t quench him. He said he couldn’t do what he wanted to with her with her family in the distance or something like that. I do remember this part. He said, ‘When I ask you this time, will you say yes?’”

  Both women sighed and sipped from their mugs. Paige’s was coffee, Linney’s wine.

  “Oh, there was another letter from Grandma Ida I liked.” Paige set down her mug. “Something like she had to love him with a name like Dornheim, and that he had to do it right and not in a letter if she were to become Ida Fetzer Dornheim.”

  Both women laughed.

  “I remember Grandma Ida.” Paige started on the dishes. “But what was Grandpa like? All I remember of him was a sort of glassy-eyed Alzheimer’s stare.”

  Linney sighed. “It wasn’t all love and hugs growing up. At least not to me, being the oldest. I had to care for the others. Every family was that way to make ends meet back then, especially in farming areas. Oldest took care of youngest. Pop was religious, sort of more like congregational, his way or the highway. I kinda wonder if he picked it up from Uncle Fredrick. There was a force, the drunkard. Not big on people of any color, Native American included, the idiot. He was cuckoo for Cocoa-puffs. Old reference. I always hated it when he came over, always drunk.