You Can't Whitewash away the Shadows

They were both single. She was divorced and he was widowed. Each, though had made their own ways after their marriages ended and each had remade themselves into people they enjoyed being. After their first date, they realized that they had one major thing in common. They both enjoyed camping. Meg’s ex-husband left most of their camping gear behind when he left home. Denis still had a few items left, after giving much of it away to friends and family. Joining their items, they realized they didn’t need to buy anything more.

After their first date for dinner and a movie, they began spending every weekend, as often possible, in the woods. They’d leave every Friday after work and arrive back at their own homes the following Sunday. Denis was a tradesman and was often called to work during the weekend. Meg worked for an electrical parts manufacturer and faced the same situation. Yet, together, they forged a tight relationship.

Sixteen months later, they planned their wedding. Meg had hoped that Denis would ask her to move into his house. It was a bit bigger, and in a much better neighborhood. One day in the middle of the afternoon, he called her at work. “I have an idea.” he began. “Instead of going camping this weekend, how about if I come over and we’ll whitewash the walls of your basement. This way, I think it’ll get a better selling price. Then we can decide what else you might want to fix up.”

Meg was thrilled and annoyed at the same time. While she was hoping he’d ask her to live in his house after their wedding, she was hoping he’d ask and not just take it for granted. Now, she was wondering if she was making the right decision to get married. What if the rest of her life was going to be like this? What if he always just took things for granted without talking about things first? She answered, “How about if you bring the paint and we’ll talk about all of it when you get here? What if I don’t want to sell?” There was silence on the other end of the line. Then she heard, “Uh ok. I’ll see you about ten.” To which she said, “Why not come around nine and I’ll make us breakfast?” “Ok, that sounds great. See you then.”

Ah, okay, she thought. I’m getting things back into some kind of control. Now, to see how the weekend goes.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be stubborn. She just wanted to be sure he didn’t make every decision of their lives his and not theirs.

Denis arrived a few minutes before nine that Saturday and Meg had the coffee made and the griddle hot and ready for the pancakes.

During breakfast, Meg gently voiced her opinion. Gently, because she didn’t want to give Denis the idea that she wanted to take over their lives. He was a bit taken aback. “Wow! I’m so sorry. You’re right,” he started, “I did take it for granted since your house is older and needs work and sits in a – a well, not so good neighborhood that you’d just automatically want to move into mine. What do you really want to do.”

She smiled knowing that she had just won a major battle.

“I really do want to live in your house; I just didn’t want you to take it or me for granted.”

Denis visibly exhaled. “You had me worried. I honestly worry about you living here. I’ve seen the gangs on the corner and the park across the street, doesn’t seem too safe either.”

Meg laughed a little. “Funny thing about that gang on the corner. Most of them went to school with my neighbor’s kids. They all know me, and I know it’s hard to believe, since they are a gang, but they watch out for me. There have been times when if they hear of any brewing trouble, they’ll hang out at the park’s opening to keep an eye on my house. They’ll be shocked to hear I’m leaving, but probably also relieved.”

After the breakfast dishes were washed and put away, they descended the stairs to the basement. Meg walked behind Denis so he never noticed that she crossed her fingers behind her back with each step.

“Huh!” Denis said. “It’s a bit chilly down here.”

Meg hoped he didn’t see the concern on her face as she said, “Yep, always is. Actually, it always has been and the funny thing about the chill is that it has never affected my heating bill. Just weird, huh?”

Denis looked around and noticed the huge crack in the basement floor. “Maybe this is the reason.”

“Funny you should notice that.” she said. “I had a flood here a few years ago and didn’t have a pump big enough to pump out the water. I used the sledgehammer my ex left behind and pounded the floor until the water started to drain. It took two days, but the water finally cleared and the floor dried. I did try to patch it up the best I could, but I guess I didn’t do a good enough job.”

Denis volunteered to repair the floor before he whitewashed the walls. He checked her old tool room for any equipment he might need that she didn’t have and left for the home repair store for cement patch, then stopped at his house for a trowel.

As soon as he drove away, Meg let out a huge sigh of relief. Nothing happened!

Alone now, at least for a few minutes, she approached the stairs and began going down, one cautious step at a time.

She held her breath as the cold crept up her arms.

Down another step, then another. She exhaled and fearful of descending any further than halfway, she said, “Okay, look! I know you’re here, but he doesn’t. Please behave yourself and let him finish what he’s trying to do. You’ve already chased away several people including repairmen. Please. Please stop.”

Without a word of warning, or even the slightest sound, the stairway became like ice. Meg shivered, turned, defiantly, and slowly stomped on every step on her way back to the kitchen, where she slowly and quietly closed the door. She slumped to the floor and deeply inhaled and tried to steady her breathing before Denis made his way back to her house.