by Haas J. Berkeley School of Business
They
walked back to the studio arm in arm and soon the deliveries began and David
was setting up furniture, area rugs, and even a delivery of wood for the two
fireplaces.
In the kitchen Nadia washed and found homes for all the new
cookware, crockery, and small appliances they purchased at an import place and
culinary outlet. Classical guitar music played and they worked contentedly
enjoying their nearness after the intimacy of the night before.
David carried bags of
packing material and cardboard out to a dumpster he had rented for the occasion
and when he got back Nadia was sitting on the new sofa admiring the arrangement
in front of the black, stand alone fireplace.
“Break time?” he asked.
“You better believe it
my fingers are getting wrinkly from being in water so long.”
He sat next to her, but
she patted her lap. He was lying with his head in her lap while her hand played
gently, in his hair, “David?” she said softly.
“Mummmmmmph,” he
responded, too content to move.
“Please don’t leave,”
she said.
“Is it getting late?”
he asked, not wanting to look at his watch.
“I mean, don’t leave
ever,” she said.
He started to sit up to
talk, but she slipped her arms around his neck and nibbled at the corners of
his mouth.
She was a passionate
lover but this time she was taking the initiative and so he relaxed and they
snuggled and nibbled until she slipped her hand down his chest and played with
the hair between his belly and groin.
Their tongues mingled
and played a song; she was the melody and he was the harmony; she was the piano
and he was the bass, and they danced slow and easy Gershwin from, “Porgy and
Bess.” She made love to him first this
time, and then they coupled again as she murmured to him and they rode waves of
pleasure together as night fell, and fog crept in to enveloped them in a snug
cocoon.
When David woke up it
was cold; he slipped into his jeans and got a blanket for her and built a small
fire in the fireplace to warm them.
He was getting bottled
water from the kitchen when he heard her call out, “David?”
She was on the edge of
panic, “I thought you were gone,” she said.
He held her close, “I’m
right here, Songbird.”
“Water?” he asked.
“Please,” she said.
He opened a bottle and
handed it to her and then finished the water in his own bottle.
She sat up, “You made a
fire,” she said, happily.
“It feels like the fog
came in while we were sleeping,” he told her.
She got up with the
blanket and peeked out the window, “We’re hidden from everything,” she sounded
pleased.
He smiled at her, “I
used to tell Warren that God was tucking us in.”
“David, Sadie told me
that Warren isn’t your biological son,” she told him.
“It’s true,” he said,
and then he frowned and said thoughtfully, “I haven’t written any parables for
a long time.”
Not quite following his
line of thinking, she said, “Sadie gave the kids all copies of your parable
series for Christmas gifts as soon as they could read well enough,” she said.
He shook his head,
“Sorry, my mind sometimes gets story ideas at strange times.”
What were you
thinking?” she asked.
“It’s nothing, most of
my ideas fizzle out when I put pen to paper,” he said.
She excused herself and
after a quick bathroom stop she went back to the sofa and put her computer on
the table in front of David.
“Just put the main
ideas down on you don’t forget,” she said, “I’ll make some coffee and tea.”
He heard her puttering
in the kitchen so he opened the computer and made a few notes. When she
mentioned that he wasn’t Warren’s biological father he pictured a new parable
archetype in his mind.
David’s parable series
was a small collection of tales about people in a little mountain village;
somewhere on earth, but familiar to us all.
He included everyone from the village priest to the bakery owner to the
widow and how they all interrelated.
The hand sketched
illustrations were all from the journal he kept as a teen when he was back
backing around Europe. The original publication hadn’t made much money but it
was his first and it won several literary prizes.
A bit later he heard
the shower; she must have decided to shower while the coffee is brewing he
thought and kept writing.
This glimpse of an idea
for another parable was about a peddler who visited the village twice a year.
He always carried his wares on a burro and along with his wares a small package
that he had been given as a youth. He
was told that the package was his responsibility. The peddler had never opened
the package or tried to breach it; he just kept it safe and protected.
David came back to the surface when Nadia
came in fully dressed and put a pot of tea and mug on the coffee table beside
the computer. It was then that the realization hit David. He was writing! Good or bad, he was writing.
She poured his tea and
said, “Don’t stop now, I’m making something and I’ll call you when it’s ready,”
she kissed him on the top of his head.
Nadia put a bacon and
spinach quiche together and put it in the oven, then sat at the small breakfast
bar and sipped coffee while she watched the fog clear off through the French
door to the patio and greenhouse.
While she sat there a
beautiful black cat came out to sit in the sun and groom. The cat was clearly at home and Nadia knew
she already felt the same way about the apartment and the neighborhood here in
Berkeley.
She took the quiche
from the oven and while it was setting she cut up a bowl of fresh fruit and
mixed a little honey with yogurt for topping.
David slipped in behind
her and put his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, “Something smells
terrific,” he said.
“Hungry?” she asked as
she placed the fruit and yogurt on the breakfast bar and cut the quiche.
He had slipped his tee
shirt back on and felt he could get away with breakfast before showering.
Let’s talk a little
after breakfast,” he said.
“We should,” she agreed,
and then she told him about the black cat and how at home the cat seemed to be
on the patio. “While I watched her I
realized that I feel just as much at home here as she seems to feel.”
“A cat always makes a
place feel more like home and it is said if they have babies there then it is a
blessed home.”
“What a lovely story,
you should include a cat in one of your stories.”
“Do you want to hear
about Warren?” David asked.
“I’m not sure. How does Warren feel about people knowing the
story?” she asked.
“I think it would be
best if we tell you the story together,” David said.
“Yes, I was beginning
to feel uncomfortable because I mentioned it, let’s wait,” she said.
Nadia cleaned up the
kitchen while David dressed. She was out
in the greenhouse making a list when he joined her, freshly shaved and
showered.
He sat on a patio chair
just outside the green house and watched her cross things off of a list and then
add other items.
When she saw him she
put the clipboard down and came and sat with him.
“I want to create a
little eco-environment for birds, butterflies, ladybugs and plants,” she said
to him.
“Then we have to visit
the botanical gardens and Tilden Park,” he said, “Tilden Park is an enchanted
little Brigadoon,” he paused, “You walk into a tunnel and as you come out the
other side into the sunshine there is a huge, old fashioned carousel to ride
and a magical kingdom to hike.”
She clapped her hands
together, “We could take a picnic.”
He laughed, “Yes, we
could.”
Her face became
serious, “I want to talk about two things,” she said.
He took her hand in
support and waited.
“First,” she said
tentatively, “I don’t think I can live in a house where you and Sadie lived; at
least right away.”
“And second?” he asked.
“I don’t want to change
anything about what’s happened in our relationship,” she said, “I don’t want a
trans-bay romance.”
He nibbled on her
fingers, “What about privacy and being alone for a while?” he asked.
“It was a shock to
learn about Anders,” she stopped for a moment, “I’m not sure I know how to say
this,” she said.
“Just use as many words
as you need, sweetness, I’m listening.”
She took a deep breath,
“When I thought I was responsible for Ander’s death, it was a responsibility
that I needed to work out. But now,” she said, “I know that the affair was his
choice and his driving was his own responsibility, I still feel horrible about
all of it but not guilty of any responsibility for his behavior. No more guilt trip,” she said.
“What do you think the
psychiatrist will say?” he asked.
“David, he’s a
consultant and I’ll listen, but it’s our life,” she said firmly.
“I like that the ‘our’
life part,” he said smiling.
“What do you think?”
she asked him.
“I don’t think I can reverse
this relationship either,” he told her, “And I agree about living in a house
where Sadie and I lived.”
“At least for now,” he
added.
“What should we do?”
she asked.
“Are you beginning to
feel crowded?” he asked.
“No, I’m not, I like it
here for now,” she said, “I’m as content as the black cat,” she said.
Do you want to play it
by ear, then?” David suggested.
“You’d stay here, the
two of us?” she asked.
“What did you have in
mind?” he asked.
“I thought you’d want
to get another house,” she said,” A bigger one.”
“Can I tell you what I
always wanted to do?” he asked leaning forward in his chair.
“Please,” she said.
“Do you have a paper
and pencil out here?” he asked.
She got up and came
back with a pencil and fresh sheet of paper on the clipboard.
He sketched the
outlines of the property with the small studio they occupied and the two long
apartment buildings in the back.
“I’d like to dismantle
the apartments and build a home in back,” he said, “And I’d leave this front
building as a studio for writing or painting,” he said, turning the drawing so
she could see.
“There’s room for that
much house?” she asked.
“It’s actually a corner
lot so I think so if we can get the permits,” he said, “I had plans drawn up
once, but we’ll have to do them again with the environment more in mind, this
time.”
“Every rooms faces the
inner court, it’s beautiful, David.”
“If we do it, you plan
the inner court,” he said.
“Really?” she asked.
“You’re the gardener
and UC Berkeley has a great botanical garden as does Tilden Park and there are
several good nurseries here in Berkeley.”
“I’d like to keep it as
natural to the area as possible,” she said, “As native as possible.”
“Terrific,” he said, “I
belong to a group that buys up open space to return it to as natural a habitat
as possible and preserve native plants.”
She said, “Can we
visit? Maybe I can paint?”
“Absolutely,” he said
with a big smile. “The group likes to keep up with the tracts we buy so we all
have assigned areas to visit at least twice a year.”
“The shopping bag I
kept separate was a small but complete kit of paints and easel for onsite paint
mixing. I want to get a Polaroid for perspective snapshots.”
“You need a small,
lattice gazebo on the front patio with a sink for cleanup,” he said.
“I love outdoor light
for mixing colors,” she said.
“Why don’t we fix up
this patio for painting too,” he said.
“The greenhouse has a
sink for cleanup and I’ll keep my supplies in there.”
“Good, there will be
room for us to eat outside in the summer and for me to work too,” he said.
“I need to go to the
city for clothes and mail tomorrow,” he said, “Want to come along?” he asked.
“I’m not letting you
out of my sight,” she said, “I just found out my husband was having an affair,
remember?”
“Aha...,” he said, “The
sins of the first husband passed on to the second one?” he asked.
“You know,” she said,
“I think I’ll discuss that with the doctor, I don’t want to lay any trips on
you.”
He grinned at her, “In
that case I should warn you that I’m a very possessive guy, needy I guess,” he
admitted.
“David, why in the hell
would you call yourself needy?” she asked.
He stretched his legs out and crossed them,
“Remember that my mother died when I was about two,” he said, “She left and I
was all alone until I met Sadie. At least that's how my child's mind felt.”
She pulled her chair closer so that she could
wrap her arms around him, “Did you worry while she was on tour?”
“At first it was a nightmare,” he paused,
“then I got some therapy and I reached the point of handling it pretty
well. Sadie helped with all of her calls
and letters,” he added.
She was kissing his ear when he said, “Baby,
did you notice that it’s getting dark.”
“Dark, is it night again?” she questioned,
looking up.
“I’m afraid so, do you think we’ll need a
fire?”
She kissed him slowly on the lips and said,
“Man, go make fire. Woman cook,” she said getting up.
He laughed out loud, “I’ll build a fire and
see what I can fix to drink.”
“Mmm..., do you make margaritas?” she asked,
“Unless you’re starving, I thought I’d make paella,” she said.
“Great, salad?” he asked.
“Pretty much ready from this morning,” she
answered.
“I’ll fix a cheese and fruit tray to hold us
over after I build the fire and mix the margaritas,” he told her.
They worked well together and soon they were
in front of the fire eating camembert on pear slices and sharp cheddar on crisp
apples wedges as they sipped frosty, salt rimmed glasses of margaritas.
She leaned back, “Life is good,” she said to
him.
He smiled and fed her a slice of sweet pear
and then she sipped the salty margarita and groaned with pleasure.
Her phone chimed and she said, “Damn,” and
retrieved the phone from the giant ottoman they purchased along with the rest
of the living room furniture.
“Hello,” she said and then whispered to
David, “My eldest
“Anders, stop yelling and calm down.”
“Excuse me, dear but you’re interrupting
dinner and being very unpleasant.”
“Yes, it’s the dinner hour here,” she rolled
her eyes heavenward.
“Anders, should I return your call later when
you’re calm or can you keep a civil tongue with your mother,” she said sternly.
“Alright, dear, apology accepted, now be
quiet and listen to me.”
“Yes, I did file a counter suit, Anders. I
repeat, a counter suit, to protect myself.”
David went into the kitchen to check the
quiche and took the salad makings out and put them together.
It looked delicious. Basically it was a
romaine, strawberry and feta cheese salad with a special dressing she had
already prepared. He tasted the dressing and returned both to the refrigerator
hoping that Anders wasn’t spoiling Nadia’s appetite.
He returned to the fire and Nadia had poured
another margarita for herself. Her face
was white and angry, her lips tight and grim.
She handed the phone to him and took the
drink and sipped.
David spoke into the phone, “Anders this is
David Fleming.”
“Young man,” David said sharply, “You’ve
called at a very poor time and now you’ve upset your mother, so I suggest you
calm yourself or we’ll talk when you can be calm.”
“Yes, that’s correct, I was Sadie Silverman’s
husband - but now I’m a widower and your mother is a widow.”
Yelling came back over the phone.
“Anders, quiet! We have both been alone for over two years and
we have both mourned, are still mourning if it’s any of your damn business.”
David listened.
“Anders, she is your mother and you will
either treat her properly or you will stop calling.”
“I’ll get a restraining order tomorrow if
that is necessary to quell you childish temper.”
A more reasonable sound came back over the
phone.
“Your mother is merely asking for a dismissal
of your grandmother’s law suit against her. Obviously, it was necessary to have
grounds for the dismissal.”
“Be calm, Anders, or I’ll hang up.”
David listened again, “No, the grounds in the
suit are all true,” he told Anders.
Nadia got up and went into the kitchen to
check the paella. It was ready so she
turned it off and walked back to the fireplace.
David finished by saying, “Yes, please
consult your attorney and if you call back do it at a reasonable hour and in a
reasonable mood.”
“Goodbye,” he said and put the phone down.
She plopped down next to David and hugged him
fiercely, “Welcome to my family,” she said rolling her eyes.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
She smiled up at him, “I like being married,
too.”
“You’ll marry me?” he asked.
“If you ever ask,” she said.
David was on his knee when the phone rang
again.
She picked it up, “Please call back at a
civilized hour,” she said.
She put her hand over the phone, “Anders’
mother,” she said.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t care what time it is
there, Anders interrupted dinner and now its bedtime and the phone continues to
ring.”
“Mother,” she said rolling her eyes,
“Everything in the countersuit is true.
Have your lawyers verify the information and call back after you’ve
consulted them, now thank you and goodnight.”
He took the phone and put it under a pillow
in a futile gesture.
“I don’t think it’s a good time for a
proposal,” he said.
“Probably not,” she agreed, “but don’t think
you’re getting out of it,” she smiled at him and touched his cheek.
“As if we don’t have enough to resolve,” he
said.
“Don’t worry, David, this is their problem,
not ours, let them stew,” she said.
Then she said, “Let’s call our attorney’s
tomorrow and have them call their attorneys and say that until the suit is
settled there should be no personal contact between the parties to the suit,”
she said. “Does that sound fair?” she
asked.
“Fair and legal,” David said.
“My poor dinner,” she said.
“We’ll warm our plates in the microwave,”
then he added, “Right now I’m going to have a shot of tequila, want some?” he
asked.
“In lieu of something more effective,” she
answered.
He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“I joined the boys in the band occasionally,”
she said.
He grinned, “I have some in the city but not
here,” he said.
“I have some, thanks to a very nice bell
hop,” she said.
“Well, don’t just sit there, let’s restore
our appetites and relax,” David said.
David brought in a chilled bottle of tequila
and shot glasses in an ice bucket along with lime wedges.
She came in with a small tin and papers
and handed it to David, “I thought I smelled some the night before Warren left.”
He smiled, “We shared a pipe on the
roof,” he told her.
“I’m not very good at this,” he said,
“But he put something passable together.”
They had both had a couple of drags, when
the phone rang again,
He raised his eyebrows and she shrugged,
in dismissal.
He put on some mellow sax and they both
relaxed to Coltrane playing, “Stardust,” and soon they were dancing to the
relaxing rendition.
“Have you ever recorded this?” David
asked.
She frowned, “No, my last vision was an
all Gershwin album,” she said.
“One of the greatest ever,” David said.
“And,” she teased, “the greatest female
jazz vocalist?”
“Ahhhhhh, Miss Ella, without a doubt,” he
answered.
They looked at each other and started
laughing and then collapsed onto the sofa.
“Shot?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said picking up the salt,
sprinkling, then readied the lime.
He poured two shots and they tilted their
heads back and threw the fire water down their throats and then bit into the
lime and its juices sprayed their mouths, taste buds refreshing themselves
after the heavy taste of the molten tequila.
They laughed some more and David said,
“Do you want to dance?” he asked her.
“I’ll put a cd on,” he said, when she
nodded yes.’
Soon a cd of dance tunes came on and
David bowed in front of her and pretended to take and fill her dance
program.
A tango came on and they played with the
song improvising their own love dance to the tango and then came a waltz and a
samba. They danced well together
enjoying the mood and movement of the dances.
A phone rang and Nadia said, “It’s not
mine,” she said and twirled off so he could take his call.
David found his phone on the ottoman and
took the call, “Hi Warren, what’s up?” he asked.
“They did?” David asked.
“The phone’s been rather busy here this
evening too, both Anders Sr. and Anders’ mother called,” David said.
Nadia had come and sat next to David
listening.
“Listen Warren, we’re going to call our
attorney’s tomorrow and ask for no more personal contact until this lawsuit is
off the books,” David said.
“Yes, unless you want their calls, I
think you should do the same.
“Warren, Nadia wants to say hello. What? No, I’m in Berkeley,” David said.
While Warren and Nadia talked David fixed
two pasta bowls of paella from the microwave and warm sour dough bread along
with romaine, strawberry salads and put it all on two trays and carried it in
to the big ottoman. He lighted a candle
on the occasional table and sat on the floor while Warren and Nadia finished
talking.
They sat on the floor enjoying every morsal
of the dinner Nadia had prepared and then they carried the dishes back into the dish washer.
Later, in the night David woke up and it
was getting cold. He untangled himself
from Nadia but she hugged him closer.
“Sweetie, let me up so I can start a fire,”
David said to her.
“It’s heavenly warm with you here, baby.”
“It won’t be come morning,” David said.
“Oh, all right,” she said. “Do we have any paella left?” she asked.
“You hungry, baby girl?” he asked.
“For just a taste,” she said.
He put a plate in the microwave to warm while
he put wood into the fireplace and it caught flame from the embers so the room
would soon be warm and cozy again.
When he got back to the bed she was asleep so
he put the plate down and relit the joint.
He was about to put it out when her hand reached up for a toke. She took a deep drag and handed it back to
him.
Ummmmm, what happened to the music?” she
asked.
He got up and put a cd on and got under the
covers again. She cuddled up close and
warm and soon one thing led to another.
They made love again and had more paella and strawberry, romaine salad
and then slept in the next morning.
She was already up when he woke up so he got
up and showered and then went to the kitchen for tea.
“Good morning, love,” she said, “Our black
cat does live here and she looks like she’s nursing,” Nadia reported.
“Where is ‘our’ cat?” he asked.
“She has the babies hidden,” Nadia answered.
“Then,” he said, “This house is blessed,” he
said.
“Good,” she said, “Is that is what it means?”
she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “We’ll have to leave something open in case
it’s too cold outside,” David said.
“O.K.,” she said, agreeable to almost
anything.
David went to San Francisco that afternoon to
pick up clothes. Nadia decided she
needed some quiet time and stayed home but called him every hour or so.
When he got home late that afternoon Nadia
bounced to the door, “Shush, she said, we have guests and the babies need their
sleep,” she said, “And Mama’s not too friendly yet.”
“Where are they,” he asked her quietly.
“In the office area behind the kitchen,” she
said, “I caught her carrying the last kitten in after a long bubble bath.”
“You or the cat?” he asked, joking.
She rolled her eyes at him, “I took the bubble
bath while she moved her babies,” Nadia said.
“Groceries,” he said, “What should we
do?” he asked.
“I’ll take them,” Nadia said, “She’s used to
me puttering around.”
He kissed her cheek and said, “O.K., I have
one more load,” he said and went back down to the car.
When she came back into the living room from
the kitchen with a pot of tea there were several wrapped gifts on the table. She carefully set the tea down and looked at
the presents.
“For you, Songbird,” he said.
She unwrapped the first present and found a
brand new Polaroid camera with tons of film.
She ran and got her easel and paint mixing kit and filled the case with the
camera and film.
“Thank you, David, I’m all set now,” she said
kissing him on the mouth.
She smiled down at him, “And what else did
you get?” she asked.
“Just things I noticed that you need,” he
said.
She opened the packages and found warm
caftans, hostess gowns and footwear to wear in the evening and early morning so
she wouldn’t catch cold. A few of the
more intimate garments made her eyes sparkle.
“They’re all so beautiful, David, thank you
so much.”
“They all have tags for return if they don’t
please, my lady,” David smiled, “You’ve been shivering too much,” he said.
“And you even remembered the cat,” she said.
He laughed and said, “You found the cat
food.”
“Yes, but she’s probably a hunter,” Nadia
said.
“I would think so too, but she’ll hesitate to
leave the babies now that their born,” he said. “Actually, I’m surprised she
brought them in except it’s been so cold,” he added.
“I left the window over the dish washer open
enough for her to get in and out. It
keeps the floor from getting so cold.
“We going out of staying in tonight?” he
asked.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said.
He told her he needed to put the things he
brought from home away and went into the bedroom while she finished putting
groceries away.
He finished his surprise in the bedroom and
took a quick shower and joined her in the small kitchen where he opened
champagne.
“Just what are were celebrating tonight?” she
asked him.
“Come see he told her,” and she followed him
into the bedroom.
David had gotten the correct hardware for the
bed and had set it up and made it with clean sheets and flowers
everywhere. He also set up a small
dinner table for two in front of the patio doors with two tall candles and he
ushered her to one of the seats and poured her champagne and then he lit the
fire in the fireplace and the candles on the table and presented her with a
beautiful, perfect, rose in the flickering, romantic light.
“David, it’s all so perfect,” she said softly
as happy tears came to her eyes. David
sent a prayer of thanksgiving
to God for this second love he had been given; pleased he would no longer be a
lone wolf in the night howling at the moon.© August 2013 Karen MacEanruig
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