Restaurants used throw-away menus, reduced their seating capacity to 50% of the former allowances, and the servers wore gloves and masks. Tablecloths were paper, discarded by gloved workers after each use.
Airlines were forced to revamp their planes, changing the seating capacity and adding sneeze guards between seats. Due to the reduced seating capacity, the cost to fly went up 300%. Flying was now for the rich, and for those willing to take the risk to be confined to a petri dish in the air.
Rental cars were disinfected with chemicals and steam cleaned upon their return. A certificate of compliance was provided to the renter upon signing the contract.
Ride sharing was limited to two persons per vehicle seating row, regardless of the designed seating capacity for the row. No more 3 people fitting in a back seat of an Uber.
Working from home was commonplace, and would remain in effect for many corporations, making office space a thing of the past. Companies weren’t willing to risk lawsuits for placing workers’ lives at risk.
Social distancing measures remained in place. Masks were to be worn in public. Violators were fined for the first offense and jailed following the second.
Conspiracy theorists claimed the virus was developed in a laboratory and inflicted on mankind to allow the changes to be made. Yet others claimed it wasn’t as bad as the news media claimed it to be. I wasn’t sure one way or another. All I knew for sure was that I contracted COVID-19, and that the illness took me to death’s door. It was while standing at the razor’s edge between life and death that I realized I didn’t want to live my life in the manner I’d been living it.
Labeling it COVID-19, the flu, or a spiritual awakening didn’t matter. I saw that changes needed to be made in me, and the way I was living life. That’s all that was important.
It was now time to implement those changes.
“C’mon, Old Man,” I complained. “The freeways are going to be bumper to bumper if we wait. She said to be there at noon.”
“Fuck her,” he shouted from the bathroom. “My nose hairs are unruly.”
“You’ve had two months to fix your nose hairs.”
“And you’ve had a lifetime to fix that nasty-ass beard you wear, but you haven’t. Fuck off, I’m almost done.”
“Which one is this?” Anna asked.
“The one in Playa del Rey that your friend told you about. 6 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, and the back yard is sand, straight out to the beach.”
She mussed her hair. “The expensive one?”
“It’s a little pricey, but the view? It’s gorgeous.”
She rubbed her hands together. “It’s too much money, but I’m so excited to see it.”
“I’m not excited one bit,” Hap said as he walked out of the bathroom. “Sand gets in everything. In ‘Nam, I got that shit in the tip of my Johnson. Ended up with an infection that—”
“We don’t need ‘Nam dick stories,” I said with a laugh.
He patted me on the shoulder. “I’m excited for you.”
“For us,” Anna clarified.
“For us,” Hap agreed.
We drove to the home in question, arriving 20 minutes after we left. It ended up that bad traffic wasn’t all that bad.
Anna’s friend, Giselle, was waiting in the drive.
From the street, the modern-looking 3-story contemporary home was attractive. A detached 2-car garage was connected to the home by a covered breezeway. Beside the garage was a wide concrete driveway that would easily allow parking for 10.
“Has a big garage,” Hap said. “Lots of parking, too.”
Anna laughed. “Not having covered garage space is something I’ll have to get used to. My home in Oklahoma has a 3-car garage. Here? Most homes don’t have a garage at all.”
“You’re lucky to get a 1-car garage in Southern California,” I said.
The realtor, a friend of Anna’s from before the pandemic, led us into the home, pointing out the various flooring used, the choices in trim, and the type of marble countertops used in the recent remodel.
The home was breathtaking, as was the view.
She, Hap, and Anna continued through the house, moving their way toward the kitchen. I stood dead in my tracks and stared through the glass wall that faced the beach.
“Are you coming?” Anna asked over her shoulder.
I dreamed of watching the sunsets from the living room with Anna resting her head against my shoulder. Listening to the waves crash ashore from the deck while drinking a glass of wine. Walking from the back deck to the beach, barefoot through the sand, with the woman I loved. Taking morning jogs along the beach with the Old Man.
“Come here,” I said.
She turned around and walked to where I stood. “What are you doing?”
I gestured toward the beach. “Look.”
“I know,” she murmured. “It’s crazy.” She tugged my arm. “C’mon, let’s at least entertain her.”
My mind was made up. Nevertheless, I decided to play as if I could care less. “Okay.”
We toured the home, spending time in each of the 6 remodeled bedrooms, 5 gorgeous bathrooms, and the 3 resurfaced decks that faced the beach. In my eyes, the home was nothing short of heaven on earth. When we ended the walkthrough, we were back where we started.
I looked at Hap. “What do you think, Old Man?”
He scratched the sides of his head. “It’s one hell of a house.”
I glanced at Anna. “Anna?”
“I love it but—”
“What are they asking for it, again?” I asked Giselle.
“$5,900,000,” she replied.
“How long has it been on the market?”
“This listing isn’t on the MLS yet,” she replied. “It’s officially for sale this weekend. The owners are currently out of town and are expected to return Friday. It will list on Saturday.”
“Do you think they’ll negotiate?”
“Personally, I think they’d be fools to. This home will be sold within a few days of being listed. Other than me, you’re the first one to see it. They were preparing to list it before the pandemic hit. It was going to be $8,000,000, which was already a great price.”
I looked at Anna.
She shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Can you see yourself living here?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because it’s a mansion.” Her shoulders slumped a little. “An expensive mansion.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “If price were no object, would this home be one of interest?”
“Like I said,” she replied. “I love it.”
“Would it please you to live here?”
She gave me a funny look. “If money were no object?”
I forced out a dramatic sigh. “If every home on the coast were the same price, would this one interest you?”
“Absolutely,” she said excitedly. “I love that it has beach access and a beach view from every room. So many of them don’t have beach access, they’ve just got a view. This has both.”
I looked at Hap. “What about you, Old Man?”
“If I had $6,000,000 I wanted to spend on a home,” he replied. “I’d buy this cocksucker right now.”
I’d spend $60,000,000 on a home if it made Anna happy. Money was of no use to me if the woman I loved wasn’t satisfied with the place she called home.
I turned toward Giselle. “Sounds like a unanimous vote. Tell them it’s sold.”
“What?!” Anna screeched.
I looked at her and grinned. “You said you wanted it.”
“Yeah, but—”
I kissed her. “Yeah, but nothing. I love it. If you like it, and the Old Man can live with one of the upstairs bedrooms for a while, there’s no sense in looking at anything else. Agreed?”
She kissed me. “Agreed.” She looked at Hap. “Are you
going to be staying with us for a while?”
“Maybe for a bit,” he said. “I’d hate to be driving back and forth to San Diego just to have dinner at Marge’s. Hell, I’d be on the road 8 hours a day now that they’ve opened up the freeways.”
“Any contingencies?” Giselle asked.
“15-day occupancy, full ask, all cash, no inspection, no contingencies.”
“Jesus,” Hap said, whistling through his teeth. “Rubbing elbows with the stars has its privileges.”
“It has a few,” I said. “Might have to come out of retirement after this buy.”
He laughed. “I know you well enough to know you’re not spending your last dime on this house.”
I grinned. “You know me well.”
“I’ll tell them the news,” Giselle said. “I’ll be in touch.”
I glanced around the home. It was perfect. “Call them and tell them now,” I said. “I want an answer before we leave.”
She excused herself and walked onto the deck.
“This is insane,” Anna said the instant Giselle was gone. “I can’t believe we might be living here.”
“We will be living here,” I said. “In 2 weeks.”
She looked ill. “It’s just. It’s hard to believe. I feel like I’m going to barf.”
Giselle opened the sliding glass door. She looked at me and smiled. “They accepted your offer. Congratulations.”
I looked at Anna. “Congratulations, my dear.”
She dove against my chest.
I nearly toppled over.
She kissed me. “Thank you. It’s going to take some time for this to sink in.” She glanced over her shoulder and gazed toward the watery horizon. “It still feels like this is all a dream.”
“If it seems like a dream now, just wait 13 days,” I said. “You’re going to faint.”
Giselle cleared her throat. “I thought you said 15-day close?”
“I did.”
“I’m confused,” she said.
Anna looked at me funny. “Me, too.”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” Hap said.
It made perfect sense to me, too.
For the time being, that’s all that mattered.
Anna
Although the stay at home order was lifted, most of our routines remained. If nothing else, the pandemic taught us the value of doing things together, as a family.
It was our last Sunday in Sherman Oaks. In two more days, we’d be moving into our new home. As excited as I was to move to the beach, leaving the place where everything changed wasn’t going to be easy. I took every inch of the home into view, coming to terms with the fact that the next Sunday dinner would be in a different place.
Marge pressed the tines of her fork through her lasagna. “It smells wonderful, Anna.”
“She cooks a mean lasagna,” Hap said. “But it’s no surprise. She’s half wop.”
“Hap Rourke!” Marge barked. “That was uncalled for.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“It most certainly is not,” Marge argued.
“What do you want me to do?” Hap laughed. “Apologize?”
“I don’t want an apology,” I said, glancing at Marge. “That’s just Hap being Hap.”
“Well,” Marge said, directing her disappointment to Hap. “You should refrain from calling people derogatory names.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hap said. “When I’m exposed to public scrutiny.”
Marge shook her head in mock disgust.
It was nice to have everyone at the dinner table. I knew Marge wasn’t Braxton’s mother and that Hap wasn’t my father, but they were as close to our parents as we were going to get. Being at the Sunday dinner table was almost like I was at home in Oklahoma, on the farm.
Filled with the warmth of what only a family could offer, I checked everyone’s plate. Hap, as always, was shoveling food in his mouth like a prisoner in the institution’s chow hall. Braxton was picking at his food, but it wasn’t surprising. He’d gained all the weight that he’d lost, and then some. According to him, he needed to be on a diet. Marge was being Marge. Eating tiny bites while she talked, she made no effort to set any records regarding food consumption.
Marge dipped her bread in the lasagna’s sauce. She lifted it to her mouth. “When’s the big day?”
Before I answered, Braxton started choking.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
After coughing himself red-faced, he finally caught his breath. He reached for his wine with one hand and pointed to his throat with the other. “Went down…wrong.”
I shifted my attention from him to Marge. “We close on the home the day after tomorrow,” I replied.
“Then you’re off to Oklahoma to get your things?”
“We’ve already rented the U-Haul,” I replied. “It’ll be a fun road trip. We’re bringing back the things I can’t live without, and we’re meeting with 2 different people who are interested in buying the dealership. We’re figuring 3 days to get there, 3 days in Tulsa, and 3 to get back.”
“I’ve got the house to myself for 9 days,” Hap said, grinning a sly grin. “I’ll be watching those sunsets naked as a jaybird.”
Marge shot Hap a glare and then looked at me. “I hope the sale goes well.”
“Me, too,” I replied. “It’s sad and exciting at the same time. Closing one chapter and opening another.”
The thought of selling the dealership was disheartening. It was my life’s accomplishment. I glanced at Braxton. Losing the dealership allowed me to gain a partner for life. It was a trade I’d make 1,000 times over.
Marge nibbled at her bread. “You can always start another dealership here. If that’s your desire.”
“I know. I’m not sure what I’ll do. For now, I’ll be decorating the new home. There are bedrooms galore.”
“I’m excited to see it,” she said.
“I’m excited for you to see it. You’ll have to stay over and watch the sunset.”
She smiled. “Sounds like a date.”
I was so excited about the new home I was having a hard time falling asleep at night. Then, when morning arrived, I was exhausted and felt sick to my stomach. I needed to get back on track. I hoped once we moved in that my mind would settle down.
Hap looked at Braxton. “What time is—”
Braxton shot Hap a glare. “5:50.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, looking him over. “You seem tense. You haven’t even touched your food.”
“Baby, I’m just like you.” His intensity softened. “I’m excited about the house. That’s all.”
“I’m getting another plate,” I announced. “Does anyone need anything?”
Hap stood. “I’ll join you.”
We filled our plates with another serving of lasagna, salad, and bread.
Hap nodded at my plate. “I have no idea where your food’s been going. You’ve been eating like a horse and staying skinny as hell.”
“Skinny?” I smacked myself on the ass. “Everywhere but here.”
He smirked. “No comment.”
On my way to the table I picked at my lasagna. By the time I took my seat, it was nearly gone. My appetite seemed endless.
Braxton gestured toward my plate. “You should have got two slices.”
He was right. I should have. “I’m famished,” I said. “I can’t get enough.”
“Probably that new workout you started. What’s it called? Beach body something?”
“Beach Body Workout,” I replied.
“It must be working,” he said, looking me up and down. “You’ve been eating like a horse, and you’re not gaining an ounce.”
The doorbell rang. I glanced at the door. “Who—”
Braxton shot from his seat. “Pratt was coming by to get a few things for work.”
Pratt was going to continue to operate as a Hollywood fixer, taking over the reins of Braxton’s company.
I poked the remaining piece of lasa
gna in my mouth and stood. I faced Pratt and opened my arms wide. “Give me a hug, you big dork.”
He hugged me like he hadn’t seen me in years. In reality, it had only been a few days. He broke our embrace and looked me over. “How’s it going, Annie?”
To Pratt, I’d always be Annie. I didn’t bother me or Braxton to hear him say it. It made Hap angry, though.
“Good,” I replied. “Just finishing dinner.”
He glanced at the pan of lasagna. “Smells good.”
“Want me to fix you a plate?”
“He can fix his own,” Hap barked. He glanced at Pratt. “How’s it going, Prott?”
Pratt sauntered toward the kitchen island. “Go to hell, Old Man.” He glanced over his shoulder as he passed the table. “Evening, Marge.”
“Good evening, Gordon.”
Pratt fixed a plate and meandered to the other side of the table. “I like your top, Marge,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “Purple’s my favorite color.”
Marge was wearing a pair of green pants, white open-toed sandals, and a purple short-sleeved top. As always, she looked adorable.
She adjusted herself in her seat and offered Pratt a grin. “Thank you, Gordon.”
“Lasagna’s good as fuck, Annie,” Pratt muttered.
“Gordon Pratt!” Marge hissed. “Not at the dinner table, please.”
Pratt lowered his head in shame. “Sorry, Marge.”
We finished our dinner, discussing the changes we’d seen, the changes we expected to see as everyone implemented the new recommendations from the Center for Disease Control, and what we hoped the future held.
When everyone was done, Pratt and Braxton went to the garage while Marge and I served the tiramisu.
“I’ll go get the dipshits,” Hap said, leaning over my shoulder to get a look at the size of ice cream he was being served. “Give me one more scoop, just like that one.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “You’ll have to run an extra mile.”
“It’ll be worth it,” he said. “This is a special night.”
“Is it?”
“Last Sunday dinner,” he said, looking around the room. “Here, anyway.”
The Man I Hate Page 26