The Opposite of Never

by Mary Kathleen Mehuron

  Her heart felt so light that she skipped down the stairs. She found Kenny at the bottom landing with a somber look on his face just as the salesman came back through the open door. This time, Georgia was ready to listen as he gave his pitch and took them on a professional tour. What David told them only added to the list of reasons that Georgia wanted to purchase the home. In the utility room, David pointed out, “Here we have an energy efficient on-demand water heater. They spared no expense on it. See this system of tubes? It supplies radiant heat to the first story. How would you like to come in on a cold winter day, take your boots off, and step on toasty warm floors? How nice would that be? I have radiant in my home. There is nothing like it.”

  Kenny was not about to tip his hand and let David see his enthusiasm for the house, yet he acquiesced with many of David’s observations. He finally said, “All right, let’s go back to the office and talk about this. David, I’m not going to lie to you, we agree with your assessment, but we still have to see if we can agree on a price. Georgia has asked me to handle this negotiation.”

  That was news to Georgia, but she was willing to roll with Kenny’s lead. He had more than earned her trust in the time she had known him.

  David got them a cold drink, and they sat down in comfortable armchairs to discuss the transaction. Georgia’s heart leaped every time Kenny disagreed with David on the breakdown of costs he had printed out. She was terrified to lose the house, yet she had confidence in Kenny, and he seemed to know what he was doing. Her emotions see-sawed as she listened to them.

  The entire time they had been at Dean’s Homes, Kenny had been making a list of her questions and his own. Now, he grilled David until he was satisfied with his answers. He made the man figure out all the dimensions of the building so they could find out the price per square foot. The two hotly debated their calculation against how much Georgia would have to pay to build a house in the traditional manner. He told David, “A regular stick-built house is worth more money, you know that as well as I do.” Kenny was exasperated that David wouldn’t see his point of view. “All right. Let’s put aside the cost of the construction for a minute. Can we run over the expenses involved in related costs? What is the delivery fee and how do you actually define delivery? Are you responsible for setting it on the foundation and making sure it is secured? Georgia wants to dig a full daylight basement—would you consult on the excavation or do you handle it yourself? How about utility hook-ups? What’s the estimated price of building the front porch that Georgia wants?” Hours passed as he pummeled David with questions and asked for guarantees in writing.

  Georgia sat in silence thinking, Kenny is relentless when he negotiates. I don’t know how he can find the energy this late in the day. He hasn’t conceded a single charge to David; instead, he drove the prices down category by category. I’m emotionally drained just listening to him.

  Kenny stood and walked over to a window and looked out. He calmly turned back to face the room and asked, “David, would you call your boss?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can you get Tom Dean on the phone and ask him to come down here?”

  “To do what?”

  “I think there’s more wiggle room in this deal than you do. Let’s let the owner of the company have the final say.”

  After all his hard work, David was flabbergasted that the meeting had taken such a turn. “Frankly Kenny, I’m insulted.”

  “Don’t be, David. I learned a long time ago if you want something bad enough, you have to go to the top.”

  Although he was furious, David dialed a number and spoke tersely into the phone: “Yeah, hi, Tom. I’m here with a couple who are quite serious about the gray-and-white Cape Cod, but they won’t close the deal until they talk to you. No, sir . . . We’ve been in my office for three hours. Thank you.” He hung up and told them, “Tom lives just down the road. He’ll be here in five or ten minutes.”

  “Thank you for calling him, David. Georgia and I are going to stretch our legs while we wait. We’ll be outside and watch for his car.”

  The late afternoon sun was dropping fast, and the temperature with it. A pleasant breeze gusted and they enjoyed it as they walked around the lot. When a blue Volkswagen Eos pulled in front of the office, they strolled back in that direction.

  The owner of Dean’s was already in David’s office when Georgia and Kenny joined them. He introduced himself to both of them and shook their hands.

  “I’m Tom Dean. Nice to meet you. I hear you drive a hard bargain.”

  “I’m happy to meet you, too, Tom. Your sales guy here, David, has done a hell of a job. If he wasn’t as good as he is, we would have walked an hour ago.”

  Georgia suddenly felt nauseous. The idea the deal could fall through at this point was sickening.

  “We’re down to what we are willing to pay per square foot. Tom, you and I both know prefabricated housing still carries a stigma. Now, I’m not trying to offend you. That little building is a gem. Just fine workmanship. If I were you, I would be very proud of it. But listen, Tom, Georgia has been recently widowed. I know exactly how difficult that can be and that’s why I’m here helping her. She lost her husband a year ago, and she is being forced to downsize. You can imagine she has to be realistic . . . and careful. The simple fact of the matter is that a prefabricated house is not going to appreciate in value the way a traditionally built home does. It’s just the way things are in the market right now.”

  Tom gave no indication that he agreed or disagreed when he said, “So, where do things stand, Kenny?”

  “Your salesman is holding the line at a hundred and fifty dollars a square foot and I’m digging in at one hundred.”

  “A hundred? The first floor is plumbed with radiant heat.”

  Kenny held up both hands as if to indicate concession. “It’s your call. You’re the owner of this fine company.”

  The room was dreadfully silent for two solid minutes as Tom read over the paperwork. Georgia held her breath.

  Then Tom started to laugh. The sound punctured the bubble of tension that had encased the group, and optimism erupted in the room. Tom’s amusement was profound; he got so worked up that he bent over and finally snorted. At that point, everyone else cracked up too. When the wave had finally washed over them Tom asked, “Why don’t you come and work for me, Kenny? You’re pretty good—you cagey son of a bitch. So, obviously, we go with one twenty-five a square foot, and you are getting the deal of the century. Georgia, you were a genius to bring your friend here, the shark, with you. Bring the forms over to my office David, I’m going to break out some bourbon. We’ll sign everything over there.”

  Twenty-Six

  “And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.”

  —Rainer Maria Rilke

  Georgia was standing in the kitchen of her new home unpacking boxes. Dean’s Homes was serious about moving her house quickly and had taken charge of every detail. She had gotten her certificate of occupancy from the town two days ago. A moving truck was parked near the front door where the crew hauled in a heavy antique sideboard and set it carefully down in the dining area. Next, they rolled in hand trucks stacked high with cartons and went back out to the truck for more. In and out, they came and went with dizzying efficiency. Several times, the men popped in to ask her about the placement of her furniture. All the boxes were labeled on the outside as to where they needed to go. Without fail, though, the men seemed confounded by any that read, “Loft Fore” or “Loft Aft.” She patiently repeated, “Aft means back. Please take them upstairs to the back room,” and, “Fore means the upstairs front room.”

  Yvonne and Linda came by for several hours to help with cleaning and unpacking. Kenny, Rolland, Spencer, and Peter used a rented dolly to move a chest freezer and boxes of power tools into the basement where they were now all setting up a workbench. Christopher and Sebastian stopped by with a bag full of sandwiches and went downstairs to help the other men but found th
at there wasn’t much left to do. They shot the breeze for a while and came back up to get instructions from their mother. Linda, who was really good at thinking ahead, made sure Georgia’s bed was assembled. Linda and Yvonne hunted around until they found her mattress pad, clean linens, and brand new comforter set. When Georgia walked into her bedroom, she also found she had her bedside table in place with a lamp on it. Her dressers were exactly where she wanted them.

  Before Yvonne and Linda left, they placed a basket filled with luxury toiletries in her bathroom. In it, they put a card that read, “Change is inevitable, whether it is for the better or the worse is up to each of us. We love you. Good luck on your first night in your new house. If you can’t sleep, call Linda during the window of eleven to two or Yvonne from two to six. Otherwise, you can call either of us at any time. If we don’t hear from you, we will email as usual in the morning. As always, Linda and Yvonne.”

  By five in the afternoon, the moving men were gone, and Georgia was wiped out and, she realized, very hungry.

  Her children had come into their windfall after the real estate closing. Operating as their mentor, she had convinced them to buy homes, too. She wanted a fresh start, and since all three of them needed furniture, she let them take their bedroom sets from their old house and split the contents of the living room and den. Georgia bought herself a new bed and upholstered furniture that worked perfectly in her new family room on Millhouse Pond.

  She was relaxing on one of the new couches with the remains of a sandwich when the phone rang. It was Kenny. He told her, “Take a bath and put on whatever is comfortable. We are going to have dinner by the covered bridge tonight.”

  “Thank you for calling. That sounds wonderful, but I hope you aren’t expecting brilliant conversation tonight. I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course you are, but this is a spectacular Indian summer night. It’s October tenth. Can you believe it’s so hot today? And the fall foliage has lasted and lasted. You’re moved into the new house—if this isn’t a night to celebrate, I don’t know what is. I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”

  “All right. See you then. I hope that I can find something to wear; I haven’t unpacked the wardrobe boxes yet.”

  All the other diners at the restaurant were feeling especially festive too, because it was so late in the year to be able to sit out by the river. In addition to Georgia’s and Kenny’s entrée and salad, both of them indulged in an appetizer and a dessert. They toasted to the weather, the move, and the fact they were now officially neighbors. By some stroke of luck or grand design, two musicians showed up on the riverside and began to play. One was a man, the other a woman, and both were extremely talented guitarists.

  Another customer called out to them, “Are you taking requests? Donations? Who are you? Why are you here?”

  The woman of the pair answered, “We just had to get out under the stars and play tonight. This evening is a miracle. We really don’t expect donations, but we’ll play requests if we know the songs.”

  Kenny stood up and said in a powerful voice, “Thank you for doing this. Everyone raise your glass. To the kind of community that makes magic happen. You make an already special night more special. A toast.”

  Members of the little crowd shouted, “Here, here,” and “Cheers.”

  As almost an afterthought Kenny asked the duo, “Do you happened to know ‘Brown Eyed Girl?’”

  The familiar chord progression started up almost immediately. Kenny held out his hand to Georgia. She was delighted, and they found a place in the river’s sand where they embraced. “Hey,” Georgia said, “you’re leading. You know how to ballroom dance?”

  “It’s just a variation on the jitterbug. I always found it worked well with this song. Just follow me.”

  Two other couples got up, too. The six of them and the two guitarists were illuminated by the moonlight that shone across the rippling, rolling surface of the water, heightening their enjoyment. They applauded when the song was done and the players had the good sense to follow-up quickly with a Rolling Stones song, “Honky Tonk Woman,” so the crowd kept going. The owners of the restaurant, Chris and Mary Anne, came out to see what was going on. Apparently, they knew the players because they waved to them and joined in the dancing. Kenny and Georgia never sat down until the musicians packed up to leave. All eight people in the audience and the guitarists hugged goodbye. Only then did Kenny and Georgia reluctantly pay their bill and drive home.

  Their dirt road was almost pitch dark when they turned the corner onto Millhouse Pond Road. Georgia saw the faint glow of Kenny’s dock on the left-hand side, across from their shared driveway. They had recently had a tiny replica of an antique streetlight installed to light the way to the pond and a waterproof chest where they could keep folded beach towels. Georgia was so taken with the sight that she nearly shouted, “Let’s go skinny dipping!”

  Kenny was charmed by the notion, but he still found that he had to ask, “Now?”

  “Right now. This may be the last beautiful night of the year. I’ll race you . . . and fair warning . . . I’m going to swim out as far as I can go.” The second he rolled to a stop, she was out the door and running toward the dock, shedding clothing as she ran. Kenny heard the splash when she dove in. He put the car in park, turned the ignition off, sat for a minute, and smiled. He couldn’t swim as far as Georgia could, so he figured he had time to kill while she went out into the blackness and then turned back toward the dock. Because they had swum together several times over the past summer he did not worry about her in the water. She was a very strong swimmer. Still, they had consumed several glasses of wine, and he thought he should get in and start waiting for her. He undressed and lowered himself off the dock, listening to the slight splash, splash she made as she crawled toward him. As she got closer to the light, she knew the water grew shallower and she tried to touch bottom. He watched her as she felt her way along toward the dock. “Oh! Kenny! Where are you? Something bumped into me.”

  He was standing chest deep in the pond, “Take your time and let your eyes adjust. I’m to your left.”

  “Where? I don’t see you.”

  Kenny swam about twenty feet, reached out, snagged her with his arm, and pulled her closer to him. He was trying to help, but his reward was beyond what he expected. He held the object of his affection in his arms and she was naked. Yet, he wasn’t at all surprised when she put her arms around his neck and murmured, “Umm. That feels good.”

  “It could feel even better,” he said and then panicked. What a cheesy line! What am I saying?

  Georgia let out a high-pitched giggle.

  Kenny sounded irritated when he told her, “Nothing turns a guy on more than being laughed at.”

  She kept her arms around him. “I’m sorry I laughed; I’m afraid I’m nervous. What you said made me think it had been a while for both of us. Jack was only the third boy I ever slept with, and we were married for over thirty years.” They stood together in the lapping lake water. Kenny had to hold Georgia close to keep her from being pushed back and forth by the current.

  He considered what she’d said. “My young adult years were spent during the sexual revolution, which was a crazy time, but I haven’t been with anyone since Sharon died six years ago, and we were faithful to each other for twenty-four years. So it’s been thirty years for me as well.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed if we make love. After all, I’ve had three nine-pound babies.”

  “You’re beautiful. I’m the old codger; my doctor tells me I’ll need a hip replacement any time now.”

  Georgia felt compelled to get out every one of her concerns. “I had a breast cancer scare seven years ago that left me with a scar and a dent in my left breast.”

  “That must have been rough. I’m sorry that happened. You may be a little self-conscious about a scar, but try to remember that I never exercised at all until I met you and your friends. I’m still twenty pounds overweight, and you’re in terrific sh
ape. You look twenty years younger than I do.”

  “That’s an exaggeration. I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t think you were handsome and very attractive in a number of ways. But . . . there is something else making me uneasy, and it’s hard to talk about. I’m past menopause. All my friends tell me they sometimes suffer from, and now this will sound sexy… a . . . how shall I put this . . . lack of lubrication. I wasn’t prepared for tonight. I need time to ask my girlfriends how to deal with it if it happens.”

  “I’d love a chance to deal with it,” Kenny whispered into her ear in a husky voice. When she lifted her face to his, they kissed passionately until her knees felt weak, making it harder to stand in the shifting waves.

  “Ah,” Georgia whispered in his ear when they took a break. The water swooshed around them like a gentle caress. Every cell in her body felt luxuriously alive. She stroked his neck and the back of his curly hair with her fingertips as they looked into each other’s eyes.

  “As long as we are being honest and trying to work things out,” Kenny said, “all of the older guys talk about certain problems that they encounter when they least expect to as well. I think we should go into this to enjoy each other and that’s all. Who cares if we reach the much-idealized simultaneous orgasm? How often did that happen even when we were young? I would be overjoyed to be able to hold you close all night.”

  “All night? I need my sleep.”

  They broke up laughing. It struck them both so side-splitting that they couldn’t stop. Helpless, they held their stomachs with one hand as their knees curled up toward the surface. The only thing that kept either of them upright was the fact they were holding on to each other with the other arm. It was uncontrollable, but when their outburst calmed down Georgia said, “Just come and sleep with me in my brand new queen-sized bed. The sheets are crispy clean and you know how good our skin will smell after swimming in the pond. It’s been a magnificent night. I can’t think of a better way to end it.”