Summer Maintenance

by Jennifer Foor

  My given name wasn’t important anymore. I’d lost too much to go back to the man I once was. This new life would take me places I’d never been able to go before. I had hopes that it would bring me closer, to something I’d been waiting so long to obtain.

  The manager handed me a set of keys. Brice Mitchum was my future. “Your cabin key is marked with that blue tab. The rest are numbered according to site. I don’t have to explain to you how important it is to keep these from getting into the wrong hands. I know we do thorough background checks, but we can’t be certain who our residents will bring in.”

  Since I knew the person whose identity I was using had a clean history, I didn’t need to worry about her finding out I’d been in jail. Learning that a convicted murderer had keys to every building wouldn’t go over well with the community.

  In my defense I had no interest in stealing or harming anyone. What happened a long time ago wasn’t my fault. The people I thought I could count on to clear my name left me high and dry. I don’t know how many times I’d tried to appeal. It didn’t help that my own family doubted my innocence.

  I knew getting my life back was a lost cause, but reconnecting with one person in particular was the only focus that remained. I couldn’t spoil this opportunity. There wouldn’t be time to build new relationships. If I failed at this one last thing there would be nothing left to live for.

  “Is there anything else you want to know?” She kindly asked.

  My callused hands motioned in the air. “Na, I think I’m good.”

  “Oh yeah,” she added, “The residents guide and maps are in this book. There’s also a smaller version in the utility truck. After about a week you’ll get to know all the permanent residents.”

  She’d already shown me where building supplies and tools were located, so I suppose our tour was officially over. She clapped her hands together. “So, I guess I’ll leave you to unpack.”

  I sat my duffle bag down on the laminate countertop and saw her back outside. Once she pulled away on her golf cart decorated with the Happy Ending logo, I headed back inside to get acquainted with the place.

  The cabin wasn’t much, but it would suit me just fine. With one small bedroom, a bathroom with a stand up shower on one end, and an open efficiency kitchen and living room area on the other, I didn’t know if it was over twenty-feet squared. The fact that it came furnished was a plus. A man like me didn’t have a pot to piss in when it came to shopping for those sort of things. It wasn’t like I could go out and get credit cards. I couldn’t abuse the person whose name I was living under. From now until I died I had to remain off the grid, cash only transactions.

  I hadn’t asked many questions regarding the last maintenance man, but the manager had hinted about him being caught watching residents through the windows. From being locked up in a cell, I was looking to get laid, but would never stoop to such a pathetic level. People conspire about what goes on in a prison, but they never know the real truth in it. I’ve seen men brutally assaulted, and others withdrawal completely. For me, prison wasn’t about finding someone and making them my bitch. From day one I only thought about finding a way to get free.

  As I sat down on the old brown, plaid patterned sofa and peered around the small living room, I appreciated the space, and taking into consideration that it was the largest I’d had in a very long while, I wasn’t about to complain about anything.

  There were a few pictures hung on the wall of what looked like quails, or maybe they were pheasants. They were in flight through a field of tall grasses and the image continued to the next frame. Three alike sat above the mantle of a small stone fireplace. It felt homey, like a cabin a hunter would keep for when the season was right.

  Aside from the hotels I’d stayed in, there wasn’t anything permanent until now; nothing I could say was mine. The fact I had the entire space to myself was overwhelming. I’d become so adapt to tight quarters that I felt almost lost.

  Realizing this was what freedom felt like, I kicked off my construction grade boots and let my body fall down on the soft, worn cushions.

  Chapter 2

  It didn’t take long for the silence to be interrupted. I awoke to the sound of someone knocking hard on the metal storm door. I arose to my tired feet and rushed to see what the fuss was about.

  A blonde, busty woman appearing to be in her thirties, at least, stood with a casserole dish in her hands. She smiled, displaying teeth with a tiny gap between the two front ones, which I found surprisingly sexy, then took a step back away from the door allowing me to open it. “Do you need something?”

  “Hi,” she spoke softly with a southern drawl to her voice. “My name is Patty. Patty Monroe. I live over in the permanent trailers. I heard you moved in today and thought it would be nice to bring you something to eat. I didn’t know if you’d have time to pick up groceries.”

  When I realized she was expecting to be invited in, I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t a people person. I didn’t want visitors. Maybe the last maintenance guy was friends with some of these people. Was I supposed to uphold the same courtesy?

  I took the dish from her hands and faked a smile, even though I really was grateful for something to satisfy the rumbling of my stomach. “I’m Brice. I appreciate this. You didn’t have to.”

  Her cheeks turned a shade of rose and she looked away shyly. “Oh, it’s nothing really. I enjoy cooking for people. I hope you like Italian.”

  For a few seconds I wondered if this woman knew the real me; the one who preferred food with a red sauce above anything else. There was no such thing as ‘good’ Italian in the slammer. Sometimes the closest to pasta I had was a pack of Ramen noodles from the commissary mixed with tuna fish and mayonnaise. It sounds horrible, but I can promise after a while it becomes a treat.

  As I held the warm dish in my hands, I could smell the delicious aroma coming from under the foil lid. It was hard to stand there straight-faced without asking her to be on her way faster so I could dig in.

  When she didn’t turn around to leave I sighed. I couldn’t mess this opportunity up. It was necessary to be the man they expected to take care of their maintenance problems. That meant I was going to have to learn to communicate. “I don’t have anything to drink, or else I’d invite you inside.”

  She waved her hands around. “Oh, that’s okay. I only wanted to welcome you and be on my way.”

  She got about five steps down the gravel trail leading to the main path before turning around. “I’m not sure when you plan on starting officially, but my porch steps have rotted out, and I’m having a heck of a time maneuvering.”

  I looked down at the casserole, knowing damn well it was getting colder by the second. “If you want, I can come over and at least see what I’ll need to fix it.”

  She stuck her hands in the pockets of her smock-looking dress. “You don’t have to.”

  I raised my finger. “Just give me a second to put this in the kitchen.” I sat the dish down and clenched my jaw, practicing a friendly grimace before I made it back outside. She’d given me something to eat, and from the looks of it, for at least the next four days. The canned beans in my duffle bag were going to have to wait to be eaten.

  Patty was waiting at the edge of the path. What caught me off guard was that she’d just met me, yet didn’t seem leery since I was a stranger. She started walking after I’d come to stand at her side. A few seconds passed before either of us spoke.

  “So are you from around here?”

  “No. I just stumbled across this place in my travels.”

  “Do you travel a lot? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  She would want to know where I came from and why I was there. I’d practiced this story until I was certain I wouldn’t mess it up. “I’ve been traveling for the past few months. Originally I was from Virginia, but then I moved to Pennsylvania when I got married.”

  Patty stopped for a second to give me a once-over. “Married? Is your wife moving with you
?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “There is no wife. She passed away years ago from an accident.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She’d be sorry to know that Brice Mitchum had also lost his life from that same accident, however a lingering coma kept his death from making the papers. When he died his identity was taken, thanks to a crooked contact at a local morgue with a cousin in the same correctional facility as I was. By the time I got out, I had enough information to obtain a driver’s license with my picture on it. From there I was able to go about the plan that had taken me years to devise.

  What was unfortunate was the fact that the person who got me locked up was already in prison for another crime. I’d waited years to get revenge, only to find out there was no one to go after. Coming to grips with that was easier than I figured it would be. I’d brainwashed myself into believing I had a right to go against my morals and harm another human being. After all, I’d spent the past fifteen years in jail for the crime, why not actually do it?

  The world works in mysterious ways. It was possible I’d never be able to go through with it. I never provoked altercations in the slammer. I steered clear of them, hoping to avoid the violence as much as I could.

  Now I was grateful. Mostly because my main goal in life was reachable, finally, after so long. I’d come to this place for one reason, and nothing was going to keep me from it.

  Keeping my new identity had never been more important. “It was a long time ago,” was how I finally replied to her condolences.

  We passed by several trailers with built on additions. Lots of permanent residents added them on for more space. It made their places much larger than the small cabin I was going to be staying in.

  Patty led me to a Lilac colored trailer. She’d obviously painted it that hue. Flower gardens hid the fact that it was still on wheels. Even where the hitch sat had been converted to a shelf for some kind of flowering vine. There was no man involved in these living quarters. I hadn’t been out and about for long, but that was quite clear.

  “The steps are just over here,” she explained while pointing toward a small porch.

  Even from afar I could tell the second step was rotted out. It had collapsed and was still sitting like that on the lower one. I walked over and pressed weight on the remaining two, noticing how they moved with little pressure. “Yeah, I’m going to need to replace the whole thing. We can’t have you breaking an ankle.” It was the kindest way to put it, while constantly reminding my mind that I was Brice; the nice maintenance guy.

  “I figured.” She climbed up on the tiny porch and put her hand on the door handle. “So does this mean I’m first on the list of repairs?”

  “It appears so. I’ll get started on it first thing in the morning.”

  Patty smiled. I could tell she was trying to come up with something else to say. “That’s great. Thank you.”

  I waved before turning to head back to my cabin. “It’s my pleasure. Thanks for my supper. I’ll return the dish as soon as I’m done.”

  Once I was out of sight, I hurried back to my place to dig into the food. I was starving, in need of something scrumptious.

  It may have been barbaric on my part, but I grabbed a fork out of a drawer and sat down with the whole dish at the countertop. One bite turned into ten. I shoved it into my mouth as if someone was going to come take it from me.

  For a while I sat there appreciating the fact that I had no place to be. It was tranquil, listening the creaks in the house, and the nature outside.

  Then someone knocked on my door. I used my arm to wipe the excess from my face as I made my way to see who it was this time.

  Patty stood in the same outfit as before. Her smile was already familiar as she stumbled for words again. “You said you didn’t have anything to drink so I made you some sweet tea.” She reached in her pocket with her free hand and pulled out a plastic bag with lemon wedges. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it.”

  Turning her away would have been a better idea than inviting her in, but she’d gone out of her way twice now. I held the door ajar and took the pitcher from her. “Well now, it’s going to take me a week to drink all this.”

  She snickered and shyly shrugged. “I hope you like it.”

  When Patty made no efforts to move from where she was standing, I knew I didn’t have another option to turn her away. “Did you want to come inside?”

  “Do you mind? It was quite the hike carrying that large pitcher.” She peered around the dingy room. “I thought I’d be asked to clean it, but I suppose you moved in before I was able to.” I watched Patty make her way over to the curtains. She opened them up and let the sun shine in the room. “That’s better, don’t you think?”

  I looked over and noticed her casserole appearing as if it had been dropped. Perhaps my Neanderthal eating habits weren’t as safe from being discovered as I’d assumed. Quickly I rushed into the kitchen while answering her. “Yeah, I was going to do that next,” I replied, referring to the windows.

  While I focused my attention back to what she was doing, I couldn’t help from noticing her long legs under that loose fitting dress. I wasn’t one to pick up a hooker, but at this point I was beginning to think I should’ve gotten one to fill a need I couldn’t shake. As she turned to face me, I brought my eyes up to her breasts. Obviously they were natural, the cleavage left me wondering if her nipples would be small or large. I wondered what a woman like her did for sexual pleasure, and how easy it would be to hit on her, gradually making a move to satisfy my secret desire.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry, I was in deep thought,” I apologized.

  “I said I’d be happy to clean this place up a bit. I used to do it for the guy who lived here before you.”

  I wondered if they had a relationship. Was she involved with every maintenance man that worked here before me? “It’s not necessary. It’ll give me something to do.”

  Her posture fell. “Oh, okay.”

  I was terrible at judging people, though it was clear this woman either had a screw loose, or lacked quality friends. “You know, now that I think of it, this place could use a woman’s touch. If you’re serious I’ll take you up on the offer. Don’t go overboard.”

  The way she lit up caused me to feel overwhelmed with something I hadn’t felt in forever. It was contentment. I felt warm, like someone had covered me up as a child and comforted me. Living in solitude leaves a person withdrawn. It’s like Stockholm syndrome without the captor. You get so used to being alone that you learn to prefer it. Since being released from prison I’d had to teach myself to socialize again, with normal people, not criminals I tried hard to avoid.

  When I was put in jail much of me was still a child in a man’s clothes. I didn’t understand the significance of priorities, and obviously I took too much for granted. I hadn’t come all this way to screw things up.

  “I’ll make you a deal, Brice. While you’re fixing my steps, I’ll make sure to come and tidy the house. Don’t worry, I won’t make it too feminine,” she noted with a giggle.

  I smiled and took appreciation in her sarcasm. It was a reminder that I had reasons to be happy again.

  “I guess we’ve got it all figured out then.” I peered down at the pitcher, realizing how thirsty I was. “I’d like some of that tea now, if it’s all right with you.”

  Patty walked back over toward the small kitchen and went directly into the cabinet where a few cups were kept. She handed me two glasses with that same cheerful grimace as before. “I think I’d like some too.”

  Like it or not I had company, and I didn’t see her going home anytime soon. For some reason I was beginning to think it wasn’t so bad, granted she hadn’t started prying where her nose didn’t belong.

  Chapter 3

  Patty

  The Happy Ending Resort had been my home for years. After both my parents died I couldn’t bring myself to stay in their home. I let my brother have it and moved, wit
h the little money I had saved up, to a place that most wouldn’t bother looking for. The Happy Ending Resort was off the beaten path. I could hide from the shame my brother had brought my family, and pretend it didn’t ruin everything I used to love.

  Drugs will do that. They’ll take what was good and destroy it. They’ll make something that was once beautiful become disgusting. My brother Joel had to live with his actions. He had to look in the mirror every day knowing what he’d done.

  I chose to walk away, because I knew if I stayed he’d drag me down with him. It didn’t matter what he or his junkie girlfriend did.

  Nowadays, I spent my time cleaning other people’s homes, doing medical billing, and trying to offer help to all of those around me, I suppose in some ways to make up for what I couldn’t do for my own family.

  Growing up I’d wanted to be a doctor. I had aspired to do great things with my life. I got good grades, and made sure I was always respectful. Where it all went wrong I might never be able to pinpoint, and I’m okay with that, because I know when I look in the mirror I see a good person; one who values life.

  For a while I think the same faces were getting tired of seeing me. I never try to invade someone’s space, but most of us are like family. Having a new person to look in on made me excited. It didn’t hurt that Brice was easy on the eyes. We were still strangers, but I’d be fooling myself if I didn’t admit how attracted to him I already was. I found him interesting, even though he wasn’t an open book. He wasn’t making rude comments or assuming I wanted to shack up. There was no telling what the future would bring, but I’d date him given the opportunity.

  I didn’t get out much, and I certainly hadn’t dated, not for a few years. I wasn’t looking to get hitched, but all women have needs. The fastest way to a man’s heart is his stomach, so after giving him a meal he could enjoy, I’d gone back to sweeten the deal with some tea.