YOU CAN'T WHITEWASH AWAY THE SHADOWS - part 2

YOU CAN’T WHITEWASH AWAY THE SHADOWS part 2

water

~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~

It had been a wonderful and fun-filled day. Meg couldn’t have asked for anything more. Well, maybe, she thought, there is one exception. One thing more I could ask for.

She and Denis spent the day fishing. His boat wasn’t big, but as far as Meg was concerned, it was big enough. He owed a twenty-two-foot Mako. Just perfect, she thought, for two people to enjoy the day without tripping over each other.

Since his home was in a land-locked area on Long Island, he rented a slip in the next town – only four miles away. He didn’t mind the inconvenience of toting his gear from the house to his boat. “Part of the adventure”, he would always say. Meg agreed in anticipation each time they made their plans.

“Meg,” Denis said as they rinsed the salt water off their gear before stowing it away, “tomorrow, I’ll spend the day at your house. I want to put down the new rug, repair the kitchen cabinet door hinge that squeaks, and then I’ll start whitewashing the basement. The cement patch should be completely dry. It’s had a week.”

Meg’s first thought was, “Oh crap! I was hoping to put that off until the very end. What am I going to do?”

“Sounds like a plan but since we hardly go in the basement, how about if we concentrate on the upstairs first?”

“Yeah, we could do that. But I heard that the paint store is having a sale, so I can at least get the paint and brushes I’ll need.”

Denis drove Meg home and decided to finish his inspection of the basement to decide what else he needed to put on his “to do” list.

Meg thought of racing in her house and yank open the basement door to say, “Remember, you promised! No shenanigans.” Then she realized, no promises were ever made. The only communication was on her part. It would be up to her to either deflect or explain. Either would be a difficult task.

Walking through her front door, Denis commentated, “Huh, a bit chilly in here. Not freeing cold, just chilly. I’ll check your windows for leaks. Maybe one or two of the sills might need replacing.

After taking his time with the upstairs and making his list, they sat down with a pot of coffee and decided what they could leave and what was without a doubt necessary.

“Meg, don’t you want to get the best price for your house?”

“Sure, Denis, but remember, it’s an old building and doing any kind of major repairs won’t improve the asking price – especially when you add in the declining neighborhood.”

He looked around then rose and walked through the living room to the bathroom. “I could have sworn I turned the faucet off before.”

Meg walked to the bathroom and shrugged. “Yeah, well, you’ve been super busy, and we both know how rushed you feel to get this old place fixed and sold. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, then, I’m off to the paint store. Let’s at least get that crossed off the list. While I’m gone, if you could just push some of the chairs into the bedrooms, that would be great.”

Telling him she’d have it done before he got back was one thing. What she didn’t tell him about was the conversation she planned on having in the basement while he was gone.

Meg watched through the window as he drove away.

Once she saw his truck approaching the corner, Meg walked to the basement door and yanked it open.

“Hey look! Whoever you are. Knock the crap off! I mean it. Stop with your stupid games. You’re really annoying me and, trust me, the last think you want to do is push my anger limit.”

While she had no idea what her anger limit was, saying it sounded just fine to her ears. Her other problem was that, if her anger limit actually reached its limit, what could she possibly do?

She tidied the kitchen, washed the coffee cups, and turned the coffeepot off. The furniture was old but not weight-wise heavy. Considering she had a very old tile floor, pushing chairs and tables around was a walk in the park!

That work done, since Denis wasn’t back yet, Meg took advantage of the situation and washed the floor where the furniture once sat.

About ninety minutes later, Denis pulled into her driveway, carried in a paper bag and drink tray.

“While I was passing a sandwich shop, I realized it was approaching lunchtime, so I picked up a few sandwiches and sodas. After we eat, if you’re not busy, you can help me carry in the paint cans.”

Meg didn’t think he noticed that the color drained out of her face. If he did notice, he never said anything.

With their lunch finished and the dishes now in the sink, they began the task of hauling in ten gallons of white paint. They carried them two at a time and rather than going back and forth to the truck and the kitchen, they opted for bringing in two and immediately taking them down to the “dreaded” basement.

As they began their descent, Meg loudly commented, “Hey, we’re in luck. The basement doesn’t feel like a cold tomb today. This is fantastic!”

Denis, reaching the bottom step first, turned and said, “Yeah, it feels pretty good but why are you shouting? I’m right here.”

Meg, naturally, played dumb. “Oh, was I shouting? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was.”

Yes, she knew the truth would probably come out sooner or later, but you have no idea how she wished it would be later – MUCH later.

Breathing a sigh of relief, they made their way back up to the kitchen, turned off the basement lights, closed the door, and then tackled washing the really old, old-fashioned paneling that lined the living room walls.

Time to begin the renovation.

“Meg, you’re starting to get as forgetful as I am. You left the bathroom faucet on.”

She felt her heart pound and tried to steady her voice as well as her hands. “Oops! My mistake. Guess I’m just preoccupied thinking about all we have to do here.”

As he walked into the bathroom to turn off that faucet, out of the corner of her eye, Meg saw the kitchen faucet turn on!

OH, for the love of Mike! Whoever the hell he is! she thought bitterly.

One of the kitchen cabinet doors opened and slammed shut.

“Meg, what was that? Are you okay?” Denis called out from the living room.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I went to put the cups away and naturally, tripped over my own foot and my hand slammed on the cabinet door.”

Oh, how Meg hated to lie but at the time, didn’t know what else to do. Her lie sounded reasonable, so he didn’t question her further.

Since the rooms in her were small, it only took them about an hour to lay the rug (it wasn’t a wall-to-wall carpet, but close), and carry all the furniture back in. This time, because they had the rug, dragging and/or pushing the furniture was out of the question. However, with the two of them carrying what was too heavy for one of them, the task was quickly completed.

Denis looked at the clock and noticed that it wasn’t quite five in the afternoon. That gave him a burst of energy.

“Since it’s still somewhat early, I’m going downstairs. I’d like to wash the walls before we paint them. Basements have a way of collecting small spiders who think nothing of leaving tiny webs behind. I’d like to have the walls clean and dry before I start work.”

She was sure was not mistaken, as she croaked out, “Ok”. Also, if she wasn’t mistaken, she thought for sure her heart flew up and lodged in her throat.

Denis led the way down the steps, and Meg was relieved to feel the temperature was still moderately warm. She felt no cold spots as they walked to the back of the very large, damp room.

Meg’s basement was the perimeter of her house. As you descended the stairs, at the bottom, you faced the laundry room. Making a sharp left, you came face-to-face with the water heater and furnace. Turning left again, was a small room that led into the main portion of the basement, with a small tool room immediately behind that.

“Oh, yeah, “Denis said, “I’m going to rip down the walls of the little closet under the stairs. The wood’s all rotted anyway since you had the flood you told me about.”

“Sounds good to me.” Meg whispered as her heart continued to pound heavily in her chest.

Using her old rag mop, he filled two five-gallon buckets with water. One to wash the walls and the second to rinse the loose dirt from the mop.

It didn’t take him long to finish that chore but there was one small problem.

As he finished rinsing the final wall, he turned toward Met to say something, but to this day, if you paid her a million dollars, she still has no idea what that might have been. He grabbed the damp mop and bucket with the dirty water, and almost ran up the stairs as he said, “Leave the other bucket. I’ll get it later or tomorrow. Let’s go out to dinner.”

He never waited for her to answer but with his hand that held the mop, nudged her towards the stairs.

After dumping the dirty water outside, he said, “Grab a change of clothes and your keys. You can stay at my house tonight.”

Meg instinctively knew something had happened but wasn’t quite sure what. Although, she thought for sure, she knew.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Meg asked, not sure if she wanted to hear his answer.

“Nothing. I’m just suddenly tired and feel we needed a break.”

He couldn’t get away from her house fast enough.

He didn’t come back for another two weeks. His reason? The walls needed to be thoroughly dry before he could paint them.

Meg really wanted to believe him but, at the same time, she had my suspicions.