Charmed Life

by Druga, Jacqueline

  “So I thought, too,” Grace said. “About the third run, she tells me to go to housewares. I went to home décor and brought back curtains. She kicked me for being stupid.”

  Freddy gasped. “You’re right, that wasn’t a good reason.”

  “I told on her. But that didn’t do any good. When I went to my locker, she had taken a Bargain-Mart flyer, cut out a woman in a Bargain-Mart uniform, and mangled her face with a pen. She wrote, ‘this is you’.”

  Freddy widened his eyes. “How do you know it was her?”

  “Because when I was taking it down from my locker she called me a tattletale and said, ‘don’t fucking tell on her again, douche bag’.”

  “This is so reminiscent of my days in grade school. You may get stomach problems if she keeps this up.”

  “I know. This is starting to affect my sel esteem,” said Grace.

  The doorbell rang.

  Grace walked to the door. “How many times a day can you be called an idiot and not start believe it. I am starting to think Larson was normal before Louise got a hold of him.” She opened the door.

  “Hi!” Marybeth stood there. “You all busy? I’m not bothering you, am I?”

  “No, not at all, come in.” Grace opened the door for her.

  Marybeth stepped in. “Hi, Freddy.”

  Freddy sat up from his laying position. “Don’t you look cute.”

  “Aren’t you sweet, thank you.” Marybeth smiled. “So I went to Bargain-Mart yesterday, and who did I see?”

  Grace shrugged. “Us.”

  “Oh, I didn’t see you. I saw Freddy. I didn’t want to bother him because he looked so intense with that large fella,” Marybeth rambled. “I went back today to get that paper towel special.”

  Freddy said, “Twelve rolls for five bucks?”

  “That’s the one. So I was looking for you. The manager said everyone was looking for you. Said to come back on Friday, you were off. And I thought. Gee whiz, what a coincidence, I’m off, too. My boys just left to go spend time with their dad for the summer. I get so bored. I also hate to go to the movies all by myself. I was wondering if you all wanted to go catch that new Julia Smith movie. I know it’s one of those things called a chick flick, but I figured with you being gay and all, you may want to come along.”

  Freddy stood up. “I love Julia Smith.”

  Marybeth placed her hand on her chest. “Oh, me, too. I can drive. Movie starts in a half hour if you want to go.”

  “Love to,” Freddy said. “Grace? You’re coming right?”

  Grace shook her head. “No, I want to work on my novel.”

  “Novel?” Marybeth grinned. “What are you reading?”

  Freddy corrected. “Not reading, writing. She is writing a book.”

  Marybeth gasped in excitement. “How thrilling. What kind of book?”

  Grace replied. “A conspiracy novel.”

  “You have to let me read it when you’re done. An author,” she sighed out. “I am so honored to meet an author. Oh! Wait. Lodi has this author lady that comes to town and does signings. Heard she’s gonna be at the Library next week for a signing. Then back for the Sweet Corn Festival next month. You ought to go down and talk to her.”

  “I think I will, thanks,” Grace said.

  “Well, Freddy we ought to be going,” Marybeth stated. “Grac,e you sure you don’t want to join us? They got the best buttered popcorn.”

  “No, but thanks. You guys go.”

  “Let me grab my man bag.” Freddy darted from the couch to his room, he returned with his bag.

  “Ain’t that just the cutest thing,” Marybeth sang out. “I love it.”

  “I made it.”

  She responded with a gasping, ‘no.’

  “Yep. I can make you one, too.” Freddy walked over to Grace. “Tap away my literary word generator. I expect a chapter.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  Grace watched them leave. She really didn’t mind the alone time. Her novel had been flourishing in her mind, and it was time to get it on paper.

  +++

  Grace didn’t know the first thing about writing a novel. For the last couple of days she had been on line looking up instructions. There really wasn’t any, but there were guidelines.

  Her characters were mapped out, and she had to make the determination of whose point of view to tell the story. She was going to go first person, which was easiest, but decided she couldn’t get reactions if she didn’t. So she found a solution. A third person Omniscient point of View was the see all know all.

  Perfect.

  She could write in first person, but write them as third person omniscient. A see all, know all. And she had the best character to do so. She would make the narrator God. But she did so and wanted to do so without letting her readers know who was telling the story. Not yet.

  How to write it. She wanted to tell it in present day. How Gabriel wanted to tell the secret because he was sick of the ‘Jesus saves’ Christian movement.

  Motivated by the pressures of Christianity.

  She hoped that Freddy would give crucial feedback. He did do a lot of reading and if anyone could tell her if she was writing it correctly, he could.

  Once she mentally mapped her direction, and tweaked her first portion outline, she took off.

  ‘Was it my imagination, or did he want to reveal the secret. He didn’t have a clue that I had been watching him forever.’

  Grace was proud of her first line and the sequential four pages to follow. Not bad for a couple hours, not in her mind.

  Stephen King may not be impressed. But Grace was.

  It was time for a break, coffee, and thinking.

  She took her empty mug to the kitchen, and noticed the pot was not only empty, but the power was off. Thinking not a problem she’d make another pot, she turned on the faucet. Reaching for the coffee filters, she felt the coldness on her feet. Looking down she saw water pouring out from under the sink.

  “Shit.” Shutting off the faucet, Grace braved mechanics and took a look. She couched down and opened the cupboard under the sink.

  The entire area was wet and she saw the culprit for it.

  A piece of pipe, plastic, curved, and small lay on the floor. She didn’t need to be a plumbing Einstein to figure out that the reason the water was everywhere was because that piece of pipe was no longer a part of the whole pipeline system. The water flowed from the sink, down the drain, but if it didn’t have that bent portion, it went no further.

  Holding the part in her hand, Grace knew if she wanted coffee, she needed water and wanted to get water without getting it all over the floor.

  After wiping up the mess, she stared at the pipe for the longest time. What to do? She felt somewhat depressed. She literally clenched a virtual plumbing disaster in her hand and she didn’t have a clue on how to fix it. Fortunately, she lived a small walk from the hardware store and the coffee café.

  With the plastic piece of pipe in hand, she left her home to take a double dilemma solving trip. She could get a latte and a way to get her faucet fixed all in the same block.

  How convenient.

  +++

  Town square, or village square as the residents of Lodi liked to call it, was charming and old fashioned. A little park set in the middle, and it seemed as if the shops were built around it.

  The hardware store was on the corner and was a chain store, but it still had that mom and pop appeal.

  It was a three block walk, but considering her leg hurt, Grace took the car. She parked directly across from the police station, crossed through the park and to the hardware store.

  It must have been the hardware rush time of day, because three or four people were going in all at the same time. Seeing that they all may get ahead of her and lengthen the time needed to get her plumbing problem fixed, Grace sprinted to the door to beat the next patron in.

  He laughed when she tried to squeeze to the door under his arm. “How about this?” he asked, flashing a brillia
nt smile. “After you,” he opened the door for her.

  It wasn’t a power struggle after all, she said, ‘thank you’ and slipped inside.

  He looked at her again and Grace didn’t mind. He was probably the best looking guy she had seen in Lodi, and right then and there figured he wasn’t from Lodi.

  At the front counter, the clerk read a magazine. A tabloid actually. Grace approached the counter and rang the bell.

  The woman, who probably was in her fifties, lowered the magazine exposing first her reddish hair, then her eyes. “Can I ... help you?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you, do you have a slip of paper?”

  She slid a tablet and pen Grace’s way.

  After jotting down, she handed the paper to the woman. “This is my address, can you send your hardware repair guy to my house please. I need to have him fix something.”

  “Our hardware repairman?”

  Grace nodded. “Yes. Or whatever you call him. The guy that goes to people’s places to fix things.”

  “Honey, we don’t have a store repairman.”

  “Well, how do people fix things?” Grace asked. “I mean your store is here, right. I would think they come here so they can fix things.”

  “They do, but they usually come here because they can fix it themselves. What’s your problem?”

  “Excuse me? I didn’t think I was presenting attitude.”

  “No.” She closed her eyes. “What problem do you have that needs fixed.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Grace giggled. “I thought you were implying I was starting trouble.”

  “That’s ok.”

  “This.” Grace laid the piece of pipe on the counter. “I ran the water in my sink, it came out the bottom. When I opened up the cupboard and looked, this was laying on the cupboard floor. I’m not an expert or something, but I think it’s supposed to be connected and that’s why the water is running out.”

  “This is plastic, so it’s not rusted off. Honey, you need a washer.”

  “I have a washer and dryer. Not real good with those either,” Grace snickered. “But this is to my sink. Not washing machine.”

  The woman took a deep composing breath and closed her eyes. “I really think it’s a washer.”

  “I’m sorry, but …” Grace scanned the woman’s name tag. “Polly. I know where I got this from. And I didn’t get it from my washer. As a strong independent woman myself, I know I like to think I can do things. Hell I failed miserably at my new job, but I’m trying.” Grace rambled.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just saying, I know because you’re a clerk here, you probably got an idea, but really, could I just … could I just speak to a man. I know they know fixing things.”

  Polly took off her glasses, stared at Grace, then picked up the microphone, speaking over the overhead system. “Clyde, can you come to the front please?”

  Grace smiled. “Thanks.”

  “What the hell?” Clyde approached, an older man who didn’t look like he smiled much. “I was right there, why’d you use the intercom.”

  Polly cleared her throat, inhaled deeply, picked up the pipe, and faced Clyde. “This woman here brought in this pipe because it was no longer attached to her sink. Mistakenly …” Polly fluttered her lips. “I told her it was from her … washer. She wanted to speak to a man. So I figured you could get her all the stuff she needs to self fix this.”

  Clyde lifted the pipe. “You told her washer?”

  Polly nodded.

  Grace held up her hand. “She didn’t mean it, Mr. Clyde, don’t get mad at her about it. Honest mistake. Really, I probably wasn’t clear when I said where it came from.”

  Clyde nodded. “Ok. Come with me.” He waved his hand to Grace.

  Grace immediately thought, what a nice man Clyde was and helpful. She knew it was a big task. Clyde took her around the store and got her everything she needed. All new pipes, some adhesive, a tarp for spillage, A bucket to catch the drips, tools and handy dandy books to help her go step by step to fix it. He was even concerned about grease and dirt and suggested she purchased a workers smock. All and all, one hundred and sixty dollars wasn’t that bad.

  She paid and thanked both him and Polly, and left the store with her bags, grateful she had driven.

  +++

  Grace took all the items from her bags and laid them on the dining room table. They barely fit. The workers smock was a little big, but the gloves fit rather well. She would put the gloves back on after she learned about what she needed to do.

  There was something about wearing that hardware store smock that made her feel empowered. As if she could tackle any repair project.

  Sitting at her table, books before her, Grace flipped open the cover. Just as she started to read, the doorbell rang.

  When she opened the door, she was surprised to see the guy she tried to squeeze by in the entrance of the hardware store.

  “You,’ Grace said. “I remember you.”

  “Hi, Bobby Dawson.” He extended his hand to her.

  “Grace. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m here to fix our sink,” he said.

  “Really? Wow. Did you come with my purchase?”

  “No. no.” He laughed. “May I come in?”

  Grace paused. “Could … could I see some ID, please?”

  “Sure.” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “My driver’s license and military ID.”

  Grace opened the wallet. She checked out the military ID as well. Surely, a hit man wouldn’t have one of those. “So you’re in the Army.”

  “Reserves, yes.”

  She handed him his wallet. “Come in, please.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a chuckle and stepped inside.

  “Are you a repairman?”

  “Not really, I’m just here to fix your sink.”

  “How did you know where I lived? Did … did you follow me?”

  Bobby shook his head. “No, you gave your address to the store. My mom sent me down to fix your sink.”

  “That’s so nice of her.” Grace paused. “Who’s your mom?”

  “Polly. The lady from the hardware store.”

  “Oh my god, she was so nice and helpful. And she probably knew this was a huge project to tackle on my own. Isn’t that so small town like of her? She was so nice. So was that Clyde.”

  “He’s my dad. They own the store.”

  “No wonder you seem nice.”

  He snickered. “Actually my mom did feel bad and sent me down here. I’m gonna take it your husband is either out of town or doesn’t know how to do this or ….”

  “Non existent,” Grace said. “I’m not married.”

  “Oh. I saw you the other day walking with that guy.”

  “Freddy. Yeah. He’s my friend. Roommate. Gay.”

  Bobby laughed. “Is that the problem sink?” he pointed.

  “That’s the one. So you saw me, huh?”

  “It’s a small town. We see everything. You have the pipe that broke off?”

  “Here.” Grace hurried to the dining room table. “Here you go. Do you need it for a guideline?”

  “Yep.” He turned and walked toward the kitchen sink.

  “I’ll get everything together for you.” Hurrying, Grace walked to her dining room table. “Do you need the gloves? I don’t think they’ll fit you.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  She gathered the books, the tools, and what else she could fit in her arms and raced back to the kitchen. “Here, the rest is …”

  “Done.” He stood up. “Watch.” He turned on the faucet. “See? No leak.”

  “Holy cow, you’re good.”

  “Not really, it was just easy. All it needed was basically screwed back on,” Bobby said.

  “Should I have known that?”

  “Um … yeah. Basics, but not everyone does know that, so don’t feel bad.”

  “OK, I won’t.” Grace inhaled, smiled and then the
smile dropped. “Ok, I do.”

  “Why?”

  “I just spent a hundred and sixty bucks on stuff.”

  Bobby chuckled. “I am also instructed to bring it back to the store for you and they’ll issue your card a refund.”

  “Really, that is nice. But I can take it back. I have to drive back into town. I forgot my latte. I need my latte.”

  “Why do you do that?” Bobby asked.

  “Drink lattes? I like them.”

  “No. no, I mean drive into town. You act like town is so far away.”

  “It is, sort of, when you’re injured.” She lifted her leg and showed him her shin. “See?”

  “What happened?”

  “Hazards of basic training at Bargain-Mart. My trainer kicked me for not being on the ball.”

  “I heard they were rough there,” he joked.

  But Grace didn’t get the joke. “Well, I wish someone would have told me how rough they were. It’s mentally scarring me.”

  “Did you tell your manager about being kicked?”

  Grace nodded. “He apologized for her, but I think he’s scared of Louise.”

  “Ah,” Bobby nodded knowingly. “Louise.”

  “You know Louise?”

  “Anyone that ever shopped at Bargain-Mart knows Louise. She smokes on the floor.”

  “That’s her!” Grace said with excitement. “She’s tough.”

  “She’s scary.”

  “Wow, thanks. Thanks for fixing my sink and for not thinking I’m over reacting about Louise.”

  She threw a packet of men’s underwear at me one time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was putting them back on the shelf and put it in the wrong place.”

  “Did you tell on her?”

  Bobby shook his head with a smile. “No. Why? It’s funny. I laughed about it for weeks, still do.”

  Grace pointed at him. “You seem like you laugh about a lot. You seem happy. Is that because you’re normal?’

  “What?” Bobby, again, laughed out that word. “No, I’m happy because I’m alive and life can always be worse.”

  “That is a great philosophy.”

  “See you learn something new everyday.”