The Hungry House (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

The following Saturday morning we moved. Jennifer, Betts, and Eileen were helping with the loading, all under Mom's direction. I secretly took note of the scene, so that I could pull it out for future reference and lovingly review each detail. Mom's usually careworn face looked happier than it had in years. Color adorned her cheeks, and her eyes moved affectionately over all of us. In the recent past, she had often sat at the dinner table so weary that she had to lean on her forearm as she ate or drank. Today her upright posture had returned after an absence of many years, and some of the puffiness in her eyes had receded. Her short hair revealed gray at the temples, but was still mostly dark brown in color. Finally, she has something to be happy about, I thought to myself. It's about time.

I
had insisted upon keeping the appearance of the inside of the cottage a secret until moving day, knowing that Mom and I shared the same tastes in all things, including furnishings and architecture.

Our church picked up the furniture for the needy; we kept only kept
Mom's heirloom Chinese dresser. I had packed everything. Finally, the moment came when everything was moved into the trailer attached to Frank's Volvo, and we were off, my friends following in Bett's Subaru. I felt proud, almost to bursting, that I could drive my mom to a better home. As we drove through the neighborhood, another feeling replaced my pride. Without warning, sadness and grief gripped my chest and stomach. Was I making a horrible mistake? How could I move so far away from the place that had given me strength and hope all my life? With each passing block, it felt that a part of my very soul was being lost.

I
shook off the sudden feelings of dread and loss with a great effort of will. I glanced at Mom, wondering if she felt the same emotions. Too soon, we were well out of Laurelhurst and in the West Hills that towered over the city. The car wound up the steep streets and arrived in the driveway to Frank's home.

Mrs.
Black had been watching for us. She smiled. "Hello, Liz--Ms. Howell. Actually, there is a place behind the pool where you can back up to the cottage and unload your things. I would be happy to help you."

Liz
quickly answered. "Oh, no. Don't bother with it. I know you have many other things to do. Thanks for the tip." Somehow, Mrs. Black almost looked disappointed as she turned to go back inside the house.

When we
had backed the trailer to the cottage, Mom turned to me. "I, I have a little confession to make. You know, I'd already noticed the darling little cottage when I was working at the house, but I have not seen the inside."

French doors opened onto the
patio at the back of the cottage. I opened the doors, and my friends and I began carrying in boxes. The view out through the French doors was the laurel hedge and the flowers bordering the back garden. On the patio was a new set of outdoor furniture, which had not been there when I had looked inside the cottage. Inside, the dustcovers had been removed from the furniture, and the carpets had been vacuumed. Fresh flowers sat on the entry hall table, the mantelpiece, and the kitchen nook table. The overall effect was beautiful.

Mom
began walking from room to room, looking at everything very thoughtfully, so thoughtfully that I began to worry that something was amiss. Maybe I should have shown her the inside before we moved, I thought. I was so sure she would love it.

Finally,
I could no longer endure the suspense. "Mother, is something wrong?" Mom stood in the largest bedroom, looking out the window. The old window featured a beautiful purple and yellow border design.

"Wrong
? No, nothing is wrong. It's just that, as I look at every piece of furniture and every detail inside this cottage, it is exactly as I would have it, if I had planned it myself. It's almost as if someone has looked into the secret world of my dreams. It's uncanny."

I
rushed to hug her. "I
knew
I was right. I thought you would love it." Mother and daughter stepped apart and noticed that the cottage seemed very quiet.

Liz spoke first
. "I wonder if the girls left."

"I don't think
they'd leave without saying goodbye."

The two began to look for the others
. In the small house, it did not take long to find them, sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, all three with Cheshire cat grins on their faces. They had quietly unpacked chicken salad sandwiches, a homemade cake, and paper plates with festive paper napkins.

"Feel like lunch?
" Bett's asked.

Mom quickly said grace, and we all began happily munching. It was during this time, when everything seemed to be perfect, that Frank decided to knock on the front door. I let him in, and he came into the kitchen carrying a large, professionally prepared, fruit bouquet.

"Don't let me disturb you, and I promise I won't make a habit of intruding on your privacy, but I just wanted to offer a little housewarming gift.
" Something in his expression made me feel as if he would like nothing more than to be able to intrude upon our privacy on a regular basis.

Liz spok
e. "Thanks. That was very kind of you. Would you like to join us for lunch?"

"No. Thank you
. I'll see myself out. Have a good day." With that, he turned and left through the front door."

Jennifer was the first to speak
. "
That's
Frank. He looks positively decadent--and
old.
"

"My point exactly," Liz responded, "but at least I will be right here, whatever happens
. I've told Vicky that if this doesn't work out, we'll just leave, and that will be it. I love the cottage, but not at the expense of that man having his paws on my beautiful daughter."

The formerly joyous co
mpany became quiet.

Betts was the first to break the silence
. "Well, at least now he knows she has friends."

Vicky
thought of something. "Wait until he sees Paul." The whole group burst out laughing, and Jennifer shot a mouthful of water across the table.

She
got up and grabbed a few paper napkins to clean up the mess. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, hold up your hand when you get ready to say something funny, that way I have a chance to gulp."

Liz wondered, "Who's Paul?"

"Oh, he's just a guy I met at school. We're going to have coffee this Tuesday after class."

Betts scoffed, "'Just a guy!
' I don't know about that. He sounds like a hunk and a half to me."

"Well, I have enough going on without jumping into some relationship right now
. It's just coffee." The table again fell silent. I had taken that approach ever since my disastrous fling with "popular Dave," rarely dating and never the same boy more than once or twice.

Liz decided to try to lighten the mood
. "Well, have a nice coffee. Where did you get the cake? It looks wonderful."

Jennifer's face brightened
. "I baked it early this morning. It's a white cake with banana cream frosting and banana filling."

"Umm
. That sounds wonderful. I can't wait to try some." Liz said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The following week, after
our English Composition class, Paul and I purchased iced coffees at the campus Starbucks. We sat on a bench in a spot of sunshine in the Park Blocks. The Park Blocks was a public space, lined with old maple and oak trees, situated in the middle of the Portland State University campus and continuing down through the city. On this day, it was full of students and others enjoying the summer-like weather typical of September in Portland.

I
had looked forward to the coffee all week and, against my better judgment, had even bought a pair of new shoes for the occasion--Italian sandals I could not really afford, spending money I did not yet have from my new job. I wore a sundress with the sandals. Now that the long-awaited event had finally arrived, I felt nervous and tongue-tied. We sat, sipping our iced-coffee drinks.

Paul was the first to break the silence.
" Isn't it funny how you look forward to seeing someone, and then when the time comes, you can't think of anything to say?" We laughed. "I don't know if this is really appropriate right now, but I just have to say--you look so beautiful."

"Thank you
. Not overdressed?"

"No, not at all
. Absolute perfection. Would you mind if we walked a little while? I need to stretch my legs after sitting in class."

He
stood and offered me his hand. We walked north through the Park Blocks. Paul's face radiated with joy , and I felt the same. Every building, every statue, I had seen before. Yet, it seemed bathed in a soft light. I was strongly aware of my feelings of attraction for Paul. Finally, after walking several blocks, we again sat on a bench.

Paul turned to me and placed his arm behind me on the bench
. "Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything about you."

"Well, there isn't really that much to tell."

"Oh, come on. Don't go all bashful on me. What's your story?" He smiled at me and waited.

"Well
. As you know, I'm a premed major, but I'm interested in everything."

Smiling at her, he nodded, "Okay
. That's good, but I want to know what makes you tick."

"I'm a very private person
. I don't like to talk about my problems."

Now his expression turned
serious. "What problems? Don't be afraid to tell me. You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine." He grinned. "Deal? That way, we can skip all the crap and become friends before we even go out. Well, that is--assuming you want to go out on a date with me. You will won't you? Go out to dinner that is? No strings."

"Yes, I will go out to dinner."

Nearby, a squirrel stood
on its hind legs, begging us for a treat. "My biggest worry is my mother. Her health is bad, and I love her so much. I want to make her life easier. I have two jobs so she could quit work."

"Really
?
Two
jobs. What are they?"

"Well, I h
ave a work study job in the Science Department, and then I have a job as an assistant. The assistant job is an office and errand type thing, but it's great because it includes a small house and use of a car."

"You must be really tired all the time
. I probably should have
carried
you down here, instead of making you walk." I laughed, but Paul looked serious.

"Have you always taken care of your mother?"

"Pretty much. But, it's not like it sounds--she doesn't want it to be like this. She had planned to be a homemaker, but then my father died right after he began his medical practice. Then, she developed heart disease. Her family had money, and they were helping us out for a couple of years after my dad died. But, then my grandparent's investments took a big loss. There was even some talk about embezzlement by her accountant, which was never proven. Overnight, everything was gone. We had to move out of our house. Mom used the money from the house sale to help grandma with her debts. She began work on her Master's in Library Science, but got sick and just couldn't keep up her studies. My mother finally ended up cleaning houses part-time to make ends meet. In her condition, that is hard."

"How did your father die?"

"He was killed by a drunk driver who drove up on the sidewalk."

"Man, what a waste.
"

They sat silently for a few minutes
, looking at the grass and the trees. "Okay, now it's your turn."

"
Well--my Dad's a house painter by trade--now he has a fairly large business--so I work for him whenever I can. I like doing the outside painting, because you get fresh air. My Dad's a great guy, but he likes to play around with the ladies. My mom finally had enough and left him when I was 16. He's made sure we were taken care of. I love my Dad, but you know he doesn't really treat women like people. It seemed like as soon as the first bloom of my mother's beauty was gone, then he couldn't really
see
her anymore. He only looks on the outside, not on the inside. I never want to be like that."

"I don't think you ever could.
" His eyes looked so forlorn that I instinctively placed the palm of my hand on his cheek. He lifted my hand and kissed the palm where it had touched him, which sent an erotic jolt through me. He looked at me, our faces almost touching. We kissed, tenderly at first, and then hungrily. I felt a deep pulsing through my body beating in time with my heart as we kissed for several minutes.

We stopped to take a breath.

Paul laughed. "If we keep this up, we'll have to get a room, won't we?" He kissed my forehead. I placed my head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me, and we sat like that for a few moments. Then, he stood and languidly stretched, like a huge cat.

Suddenly,
I looked at my cell. "I have an early morning and still need to study. Unfortunately, I have to go." I felt was always racing for time and ached for the ability to stop. I stood, feeling disoriented and woozy from the encounter.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"Thanks. Today, I have a car."

Paul walked me to my car, and we planned our first date
. I drove away feeling happier than I had in a long time.

###

When the alarm went off at 7:00 the following morning, I was sleeping so soundly I jumped. Thank God for the car or I'd have to get up even earlier. Late nights and early mornings did not seem to mix. I had studied the night before. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 2:30 a.m. Mom often said that my late night studying reminded her of my dad's days in medical school and that at these times it seemed as if I were the incarnation of my father.               When I awoke, I realized that Mom had pulled my blankets up over my shoulders and put my book on the night table.

After buying my
third cup of coffee of the day to go at the university's Smith Center, I made my way to the Physics Department on the third floor of Science Building 2. This would be my second week of assisting Dr. Doris James, the physics department head. I answered the phone, made photocopies, and transcribed notes on tape for a book the professor was writing. I also conducted research in the library in academic journals. I was becoming an expert at finding, downloading, and printing journal articles on physics. All of the material looked interesting, but most of it was far beyond my ability to grasp. The filing was a duty I hated.

Dr. James had a home office and hardly ever came in except to
teach, meet with students, or pick up class materials, so I was given the use of her office. Sometimes, anxious students who were failing physics showed up. Then, there were those working on their master's theses or doctoral dissertations. I relayed the professor's office hours to them or gave them the professor's office number, as instructed, so they could leave a voice message. In extreme cases, I made an office appointment on the professor's calendar. I considered myself extremely fortunate to have the job.

  I worked
two hours each weekday morning for the Science Department, worked for Frank in the afternoons, and went to class at night, three nights a week. With the salary and benefits of my work for Mrs. Black, we could have survived, but I saved the money from my university job for doctor's appointments, hoping Mom would not have to go to the emergency room again.

Though I
had not spoken of it to anyone, I felt bone-crushingly weary these days. As I worked that day, I thought about my upcoming dinner date with Paul and fantasized about days in the future when Mom and I could live without worry or stress.