Penny arrived at her uncle Jorge’s home about 5:30 p.m. after walking about a mile from the bus stop. He lived in Berkely Hills at the top of a particularly steep residential road that circled lazily around the steep grade. When she got there, she rang the bell, but there was no answer.
She went out to the driveway. Uncle Jorge’s house was a small, two-bedroom affair, painted blue with white trim. The yard was neatly kept; the lawn was manicured and the flowerbeds were bright with green and yellow colors mixed with the redwood mulch. Freshly steam-cleaned, the driveway had been bleached stone white, and the fence around the back yard was a pale, sky blue, complimenting the navy blue of the house. A gardening drone was working in the front flowerbed.
Penny took off her pack and sat on the front step of the porch. Her uncle would undoubtedly be along soon. As she waited, she checked her phone; Tim had already sent a message:
::Mom says she is sorry. Maybe we could get some dinner tonight?::
Well, he doesn’t waste any time does he, she thought. She texted back.
::Where?::
::DYK Telegraph Pizza university ave Berkely?::
::Sure, How about 8pm?::
::See you there::
One of those regional door-to-door transports pulled up in front of the house. The driver got down and opened the handicap door where her uncle Jorge sat in his wheelchair. He caught sight of her as the driver lowered the handicap elevator of the bus. She went to greet him.
“Penny!” he said. “Sorry, I’m late.” She bent over to kiss him of the cheek; he patted her back. “Let’s go in,” he said.
It began to rain as they got to the porch. Shaking off, she wheeled her uncle into the living room. “Where do you want to go?”
“Take me into the den. You’ll see my spot.”
She took him through the kitchen and into the den, where there was an apparent space for the wheelchair. He patted the couch, indicating where she should sit.
“So, how have you been?” asked Jorge.
Penny situated herself on the couch. A sliding glass door to her right led to a portico with brick pillars; a picture of a peacock, taken in the San Diego Zoo, framed the wall above a large-screen television. She detected the smell of Old Spice, her uncle’s favorite. A fish tank with gravel, a miniature pond, and small frogs were behind her against the wall. The frogs croaked; the atmosphere similar to an early evening walk in the woods.
Penny said, “I’m a little disheveled. I broke up with my boyfriend; needed to get out of town for a while.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Was this the carpenter?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I never thought you two had much in common. He was all construction boots and unfiltered Camel cigarettes as I remember.” The light from the lamp by the couch framed him, a frown on his face.
“Yes, well he was not the most thoughtful man I’d ever dated, but he was incredibly attractive if you know what I mean. I’m a sucker for big, bulky men that are rough around the edges.”
“Why didn’t you two stay together?” Jorge asked.
“He was pretty tame when it came down to it,” she said. “It turns out I need a little more aggressiveness in a man than I thought.”
“I see.” Jorge rubbed his chin. “Well now that you’re here, you can fix me your beans and rice casserole. You know its my favorite. How long can you stay?”
“A couple of weeks probably. I was going to go down to the Oakland Vet Center and see if they need any volunteers.”
“I’ve never understood your need to try and fix people. You should have become a psychiatrist, not a trauma nurse.”
“In surgery, I actually do something that affects the patient immediately,” she said. Her look turned dark, reflected in Jorge’s watching her. “The problem is that we can’t fix everyone.”
He turned in his wheelchair and lifted his leg, amputated at the knee, onto a stool designed to prop up a reduced limb. “No you can’t. You fi the ones you can and do the best you can with rest. You should not let your work bleed into your romantic life.”
“What do you mean?” she said with a surprised look on her face.
“Were you trying to fix this carpenter?”
Penny sat back and thought about the question. Sam had been timid in bed, even a little impotent for such a virile man. She tried to get him more stimulated to love her, but in the end, her efforts were in vain. She had tried everything she could think of but in the end, he couldn’t change him. It was why they had broken up.
Penny said, “Maybe a little.”
His eyebrows were feathered dark in thought. “People generally don’t want to be fixed,” Jorge said. “You may be in for a frustrating life is you continue.” He took a breath. “Your alternative is to look for a man who wants help to be fixed.
She thought about Tim, who was nice and didn’t seem to have many problems. Maybe he was someone she could be with without her need to fix him. “I have a date tonight with a man I met at the BART terminal.”
Jorge smiled. “Already you met someone here? That’s pretty fast work.”
“Well, it just kind of happened.”
“Promise me you won’t try to fix this man, whatever his problems.”
“Okay, I promise.” Penny was sincere, but already she was wondering what Tim had under his rough exterior.
No comments:
Post a Comment