Happily Ever After
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Happily Ever After? Chapter 8 free porn video
Chapter 8
Love And Memories
It almost seemed silly driving over to the Ryan Inn. It was only four
blocks away and a block closer to the beach. The windows on the ground
floor were boarded up. We parked the car in the tiny lot in back. The lot
looked like it held about fifteen cars and its state of disrepair matched
the surroundings. I shook my head from side to side as I opened my door
and almost tripped over a few weeds forcing their way through the bits of
crumbling macadam.
What had once been a majestic old building now looked more like a haunted
house than anything else. Sam shook his head from side to side and asked
just what the hell we were doing there. I began wondering the same thing
myself. The exterior of the building suggested that the kindest thing
anyone could do for it would be to bring in the bulldozers. Mom and Aunt
Mel followed us as we made our way to the front door. I found myself
feeling bad for the building. How could anyone allow it to fall into such
a state of disrepair?
Mom began regaling us with stories of her first visit to the Ryan Inn.
Apparently she and my father stayed there when they were shopping for our
current home. She smiled sadly as we made our way inside. We strolled
through the area which had once housed a very modest eatery and up to the
section that had once served as the front desk. It didn't look like
anyone had been inside in years. I was surprised to find that the
electricity actually worked.
I turned on every light in the house and began examining the ground
floor. First up, a small dining area with seating for about twenty five.
A compact kitchen with the bare necessities. The check-in area and two
guest rooms with baths completed the first floor. The second and third
floors had six rooms each with two communal baths on each floor. The
original plan had been to provide affordable vacation space for those in
need. In this area in the high-season such places were scarce.
My mind drew a blank as I attempted to come up with some kind of
reasonable estimate. The amount of work required was staggering. There
was sanding that needed to be done, holes in need of spackle, and walls
that needed a coat of primer-sealer before a top coat of paint could be
applied. My mind was in a whirl as I attempted to do the calculations. A
best guess had me thinking in the three thousand dollar range. And, that
was for the inside alone. The exterior of the building was also in need
of some serious paint. In fact, the exterior was in more immediate need
of attention than the interior. I began doing more calculations in my
notebook. Paint would just be the beginning of what this building needed.
Some of the ceilings on the third floor were in need of serious repair. I
wasn't sure whether they were even repairable. I hoped that the new
owners knew what the hell they were doing. Hell, I wasn't a building
contractor. Just a kid who knew how to paint a room efficiently. Still,
being in charge of this renovation sent my blood surging. That would be
another question for Mr. Hospin. Who would I have to answer to with
regard to the overall work? Were the owners themselves in charge, or had
they hired a general contractor to run things for them?
I had absolutely no idea how much to charge for exterior painting. I
didn't have the ladders and other equipment that would be required to do
such a job. I wanted to do it all. Well, all of the painting at least. I
had no idea just how much it would cost to refurbish the building, but if
I had to guess it would probably be somewhere around a hundred thousand
dollars worth of work. That is, if the money was spent frugally. The
hours I'd spent watching "This Old House" might just pay off I thought
and laughed to myself.
Mom and Aunt Melissa remained quiet as I surveyed the rest of the
building. The job did seem a bit overwhelming. I began to wonder if Sam
would be interested in helping out. There was only one way to find out.
"Sam, would you like a job?" He looked at me like I'd lost my tenuous
grip on reality. "Sam, I can do this job, but I'm going to need some
help. Are you up for earning some real money?" I asked again. He didn't
know how to respond. My last statement was enough of a challenge that I
could tell he was weakening.
"Joan, there's only two weeks left before school starts," he began.
"There's an awful lot of work here to be done."
"I agree. That's why we need to get started now." He smiled at me and
hugged me tight. He told me that if I was sure I wanted to tackle such a
project that he'd help in any way he could. He also told me that he
wanted to be paid. I laughed at his mention of money. I'd worry about how
to divvy up the profits if and when there were any. Still, I did promise
him eight dollars an hour for his time. This was to be my folly. If
anyone got hurt here (financially) it was going to be me.
On further examination of the property we discovered a small cellar. It
contained the central heating unit, water heaters, and enough ladders and
other equipment to provide what would be needed to do the job. If only I
knew how to figure out an estimate for the exterior of the building. I
really did want to do it all.. Maybe Mr. Hospin would give me a day to
actually work on the building before providing him with a price. I
laughed aloud at my own thoughts. Still, he knew that I wouldn't
overcharge for the work and maybe we could figure it out somehow.
"Mom, Aunt Mel, do you guys have any ideas about colors for this place?"
I asked generously.
"It's your job Joan, just be sure not to choose anything too bold. I'd
stick with some nice pastels and vary the colors enough to give each room
an individual atmosphere of its own." I liked Mom's decorating ideas. I'd
actually been thinking along the same lines myself. This wasn't just
going to be a job. This was going to be fun. In on the ground floor, so
to speak. Still, I had no idea where to begin.
We locked the front door, got back in the car, and took the longest four
block drive in history. I thought I'd do a web search and try to figure
out just how much to charge for the exterior painting. There were plenty
of sites available, but none that would help me specifically. Finally, I
decided that my best bet would be to go back and talk to Mr. Hospin
directly. He wouldn't steer me wrong. I left the others at the kitchen
table and pedaled my way to the store.
"Joan! You're back already," he said with a smile on his face. "So, what
did you think of the place? Is it a job you'd be interested in?" My smile
matched his own except mine was tainted with a touch of perplexity.
"Mr. Hospin, it looks like a challenge I'd be more than happy to attempt.
To be honest though, I haven't a clue with regards to an estimate. This
is no simple 'room painting' job." He laughed loud and long at my
characterization of the building.
"Yes, it's a building in need of a lot of tender loving care, but do you
see the possibilities? Do you get the feeling that taking this on would
be more than just a mere paint job? Does the prospect of taking it on
light a fire within you?" He'd never spoken to me this way before. I
found myself wanting to say "yes" to each and every one of his
pronouncements. My skepticism and what little wisdom I'd acquired along
the way allowed me to keep my feet on the floor, my mouth closed, and the
cards I was playing from being revealed.
He seemed to know exactly what I was doing. Despite my best efforts he
knew that I wanted the job. "Joan, I can tell you want this job. I also
know that you'd be heartbroken if someone else walked away with the
contract."
"But, Mr. Hospin," I countered, "the exterior of the building is in more
desperate need of paint than the interior! How can I possibly come up
with an estimate? I'm simply out of my depth."
"Joan, I have a very personal relationship with the new owners. They've
actually seen some of your work and requested you specifically. They're
aware of your age and inexperience. When they came in asking about you, I
told them it was probably beyond your capabilities. Not that I don't have
faith in you, I do! It's just that this is the kind of job that generally
goes to a professional contractor with a serious crew and lots of
equipment. They went on to inform me that they'd obtained several
estimates from such contractors and that they simply couldn't afford
them. So you see, they need you as much as you need them."
I stood there still wanting the job. I wasn't the least upset by Mr. H's
revelation to me. Was I biting off more than I could chew? I began
shaking my head from side to side and he read it wrong. "You don't want
the job?" he asked incredulously.
I realized that he'd misread my facial expressions. "Mr. Hospin, there's
no assignment that I'd rather have. I know this sounds crazy, but do you
think they'd hire me on faith? I simply can't provide you with even a
guesstimate as to the overall cost.." My eyes revealed hopelessness and
bewilderment. He studied my face carefully and thought for a few minutes
before continuing.
"Do you have any ideas about the exterior color that you'd choose?" he
asked when he finally deigned to speak. My heart leapt with joy as I
realized that somehow, this was going to work. His head nodded
appreciatively as I made my suggestions. He seemed impressed that I was
taking the overall look of the neighborhood into consideration with
regards to my proposed color scheme. He went on to tell me that the job
was indeed mine if I wanted it. He also told me not to worry about the
cost. We'd work that out later.
I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I was so anxious to get that
contract that I'd have considered doing it for free. I wasn't sure why it
had become so important to me. My best guess would have been the pride
that I'd feel each time I walked past that building knowing that I'd
played a major part in its renovation. Mr. Hospin told me to keep the
key, to come back with my mother's car and he'd give me enough paint to
keep me busy for awhile. We said our goodbyes and I flew home.
"Mom! I got the job!" I screamed as I ran in the front door. Shandy began
barking and running in circles as I sidestepped her and made my way into
the kitchen. Sure, I liked painting rooms, but this was something else
entirely. The three of them were still seated at the kitchen table.
"Well Sam, are you ready to go to work?" I asked him laughingly. I
figured that getting him involved with something like this would take his
mind off of baseball. There was a lot he could do without putting the
twins at risk. All of the high ladder work would be mine.
"For eight dollars an hour, I'm ready," he said and laughed.
"Done!" I replied and hugged him fiercely. I'm not really sure why I said
what I did next, but I was glad that I did. "So, Aunt Melissa, does this
mean you're going to be staying with us for awhile?" Other than asking
her if she'd be staying, I wasn't really sure what I meant. Weird!
"Are you offering me a job then, Joan?" she asked and began laughing
herself. I'd never considered doing that, but it made perfect sense. The
more the merrier!
"Eight dollars an hour good enough for you?" I asked her and it was my
turn to laugh.
"Errr, no," she replied, "but we'll talk about that later."
This was really going to happen! I was so excited I was about to burst.
Mom sat at the table quietly sipping her coffee. Her eyes danced about as
we began discussing the upcoming project.
"Mom, we need to get down to Hospin's to pick up enough paint to get
started."
"Shouldn't you be asking your employee to help you?" she said and
laughed. I turned to Aunt Melissa and looked at her expectantly.
"Come on kiddo, let's go pick up some paint," she said and rose from the
table. Mom and Sam remained sitting at the table as we made our exit. I
wanted to ask Sam to come, but I figured it would be best if he stayed
behind and kept Mom company.
"You know, I'm a bit of a painter myself," she said as we began making
the trip.
"Maybe it's in the blood then," I said without seeking further
explanation.
She laughed aloud before continuing. "Well Joan, all the painting I've
done up to this point in my life has been on canvas. Still, I haven't
done that in years either. Maybe it's time I purchased some supplies and
started in again."
We arrived back at Hospin's and I introduced Aunt Melissa to Mr. Hospin.
They seemed to know each other already, but I put that off as being due
to an over active imagination. We loaded ten gallons of "sky blue" into
the trunk of Mom's car. I selected some fine bristle brushes and some
scraping tools as well. Before long we were back on our way to the Ryan
Inn. I didn't have to ask Aunt Mel for help as we began unloading the
car.
Suddenly the building seemed full of potential. I saw beyond the cracked
paint and washed out walls. In my mind's eye I saw the building as it
once had been and how it would be again. I felt like a kid on Christmas
morning and began running through the house shouting inanities at the top
of my lungs. Aunt Melissa finally reigned me in and told me it was time
to go home. Someone had to make dinner and she could just tell that I
wasn't up to the task.
I locked the place up and we made our way back to the Johnson residence.
Aunt Melissa started right in on dinner preparations. It seemed to be a
new beginning for all of us. Sam had gone home to take a nap. I didn't
begrudge him his need for sleep. I gave my apologies to Aunt Mel and told
her I'd be back for dinner. She laughed at that and asked me if she was
still on the clock.
Though there were signs of improvement at the Peters' home, things still
weren't up to par. Sam had taken to putting his dirty clothes in the
hamper, so that was something at least. I gathered up a load of laundry
put it in the machine, then made my way back up to our bedroom. I watched
him sleeping peacefully for a few moments and then crawled in bed beside
him. It was my turn to hug him protectively and possessively. I did and
soon fell asleep with my arm wrapped around his shoulder.
That evening, after dinner I began laying out the ground rules for the
remainder of the week. Sam seemed a bit irked that I wasn't going to
allow him near any ladders. I attempted to avoid the issue entirely, but
he kept bringing it up till all I could do was put my foot down firmly
and tell him, no!
We made love for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep. I
smiled in amazement as I realized that a good deal of my happiness had to
do with tomorrow's project. Sleep was blissful. Tuesday morning arrived
and I was out of bed with the sunrise. Sam, as usual, was dead to the
world. I kissed him gently on the forehead and made myself ready for the
day. A bit of silent cleaning up around the first floor and I was off to
see if Aunt Melissa was up yet and ready to go.
She greeted me at the front door with a smile and a hug. I was then
ushered into the kitchen where breakfast was in progress. "With all of
the work ahead of you today, you'd better eat a hearty breakfast, Missy,"
she said and smiled. I appreciated the food and the smile, but I would
have appreciated it more if she'd said "us" instead of "you." It was
closing in on eight o'clock and I knew that too much of the day would be
wasted if I waited for Sam. I sat at our kitchen table and wrote him a
note telling him that Aunt Melissa and I were headed off to the Inn and
he could find us there when he was ready for work.
By eight thirty we had the extension ladders out in front of the
building, and we were ready to go. I asked Auntie M how she wanted to
proceed and she simply smiled at me and told me I was the boss. I decided
it would be best if we tackled the job one side at a time. We started at
opposite ends of the building. I felt somewhat nervous standing on top of
the ladder, thirty plus feet above the ground. Aunt Melissa scaled it as
if she'd been doing it all her life. I followed her lead and forgot about
the distance to the ground.
The painting went faster than I expected. The oil based paint that Mr.
Hospin recommended gave much better coverage than the latex paints I was
used to. While Auntie M had no fear of being up on a ladder, she was a
bit on the slow side with regard to painting. I put any thoughts of
recriminations aside and concentrated on the task in front of me.
Noon time rolled around and Sam showed up with an apology and lunch in
hand. Cleanup was a lot more difficult as I prepared to eat my sandwich.
No matter how hard I tried I couldn't remove the smell of turpentine from
my skin. I finally gave up and ate my sandwich. After lunch the three of
us started back in. I relented and let Sam use a small step ladder so
that he could paint at least one of the three floors. It only took a few
minutes before he decided that he was going to start on another side of
the building. He didn't like being spattered with bits of paint from
above.
The work day ended and the clean up process began all over again. I
decided to stop at the drug store on the way home and pick up some
disposable surgical gloves. Clean up with the oil based paint was simply
a bitch. I knew neither Aunt Melissa nor myself was in any shape to
prepare dinner. I figured we'd simply order a pizza when we arrived home.
It was seven o'clock when we walked through the front door. Mom and Aunt
Alice had the dining room table all set and dinner waiting. The three of
us were given a heroes' welcome. I gave them both hugs and thanked them
for taking the time to put this all together. Mom laughed and told me not
to thank her too soon. There was tons of cleanup to do and I was
scheduled to do it at dinner's end.
We spent the mealtime talking about the old Inn and how lucky the new
owners were to have it. Aunt Mel and I managed to get quite a bit of
painting done and I reasoned that by end of business tomorrow, the front
of the building would be finished. It had already taken on a new sparkle
and sheen in my mind's eye. My arms were feeling heavy. It got to the
point where I was having a hard time lifting my fork up to my mouth. I
laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all.
Sam and Aunt Melissa looked worse than I did. I insisted they remain
seated as I began the cleanup procedure. Everything put away and I was
ready to collapse from total exhaustion. Sam seemed happy to sit there
for awhile. The ladies had adjourned to the backyard to smoke and drink
some tea. I didn't even have to ask them not to smoke inside in Sam's
presence. I began to wonder whether Mom had smoked when she was pregnant
with me. It didn't matter at this point, and put such thoughts away.
I told Aunt Mel that I'd be back at seven thirty tomorrow morning and
bade them all goodnight. I left Sam playing with Shandy in the backyard.
I made my way back to Chez Peters and got ready for bed. With Josam
clutched tightly in my arms I fell asleep.
The morning was quick in coming. It seemed I no longer needed an alarm
clock to assist me in waking up. I got dressed and walked over to greet
Shandy and Aunt Melissa. She asked me if I was up for another day of fun
and games. I smiled at her and told her that I couldn't wait to get
started. As we'd done yesterday, we made the short walk to the Inn. By
eight thirty we were well under way. The work began to go more smoothly.
We soon fell into a comfortable routine. As he'd done yesterday Sam
arrived with lunch right around noon.
By day's end the front of the building was finished. Sam despite only
working limited hours had done half of the building's first floor. I
reasoned that if we worked through the weekend that we'd be able to
finish the main painting by late Sunday. We locked everything inside and
made the short walk home. The surgical gloves made cleanup a lot easier.
I felt better about the job with each passing day.
We were treated to dinner by Aunt Alice that evening. No, she didn't
cook, but she had a ton of chinese food to choose from when we all sat
down to dinner. I smiled happily as I realized that the Johnson house was
the meeting place of choice. With dinner completed and the cleanup done,
I decided it was time to give Darla a call. Yes, I was tired in the
evenings and odds were that I would be for the foreseeable future. Still,
I wasn't going to let the band slip through my fingers.
We made plans, reluctantly on my part, to have a practice session on late
Saturday afternoon. Darla wanted to have it earlier, but I was determined
to make as much of the summer vacation as I could. I figured that Aunt
Mel and I could work till early afternoon and Sam could have the day off
to do whatever he wanted.
The rest of the work week simply slipped away. Saturday came and we made
an early start. Aunt Melissa and I wrapped up painting for the day right
around one o'clock. I was kind of tired, but I was anxious to strap a
guitar onto my shoulder and get down to a serious practice session.
I was distressed to hear from Aunt Alice that Sam had gone to watch the
Waves play that afternoon. I wasn't so sure that it was a good idea.
Still, to simply remove himself with no further contact with his friends
would have been too cruel. I only hoped he didn't start in again on his
desire to play. I decided not to worry about Sam for the rest of the
afternoon, went to clean myself up, gathered up my Martin in my soft
shell case, slung it over my shoulder and made my way to Darla's.
It was a lot easier for me to practice at Darla's then it was to make the
trek to Fred's. I could tell that Aunt Vivian was happier with this
arrangement as well. I walked down into the basement and it seemed the
two of them had been busy. I recognized a lot of Fred's equipment all set
up in performance fashion. I got myself set up when Darla put a song on
the stereo.
I quickly recognized O.A.R.'s "Love and Memories." It was a pretty song
and totally suited for Fred's voice. The three of us harmonized perfectly
together. It felt good to work on something from the twenty-first
century. It didn't take us too long to nail it down. After two hours of
serious practice on the tune, we went over the Fleetwood Mac stuff and
rehearsed our 1-4-5 progression songs for the rest of the afternoon. By
the time we were done, we had over an hour's worth of material ready.
"So, are you ready for that battle of the bands contest, Joan?" Fred
asked me. I thought back to performing at Melissa's wedding. I was indeed
ready for the rush of performing live in front of an audience again.
"It's two weeks from tonight, by the way." I smiled at him confidently in
answer. I didn't need two weeks. I was ready to go right now and told him
so. He laughed at my reply and told me he appreciated my attitude.
We took a break and I sat there feeling a bit awkward as Fred sat across
from me with his arm wrapped around Darla's shoulder and continued to
talk nonchalantly about our upcoming performance. Finally, we called it a
day and made plans to practice again in the middle of the week. I left
them in close embrace and made my way home. 'Home,' I thought?finally!
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