Covet

The cell phone rang at a most inopportune time as I studied the project I was working on. I took it out of my pocket and did not recognize the number. Fearing that I would soon be subjected to a telephone solicitor I answered the call. It was much worse.

"May I speak to Mark Mallon?" the officious voice enquired. I assured the person that she was speaking to Mark Mallon. "Please hold for Ms. Peterson" the voice ordered.

Instead I went ahead and terminated the call. As I suspected within a minute I received another call. "Mr. Mallon, I'm sorry we were cut off. Please hold for Ms. Peterson." Again, I terminated the call.

Once more the phone began to ring and once again I answered. An exasperated tone came from my unknown caller. She began to explain how this scenario was suppose to work. I interrupted her mid-sentence.

"Please inform Ms. Peterson that I have no inclination to talk to her today or any other day." Again I hung up and tried to focus on my work. Within five minutes the phone began to ring again. I studied the number and recognized it from the previous two calls, I decided to let it go to voice mail.

Soon the icon appeared that I had a message. I didn't feel any need to find out what the message was. By now I had decided on my course of action concerning my task and began placing the items in place.

The telephone again interrupted the tranquility and I chose to turn the damn thing off. One of the first lessons I ever learned about power tools was to concentrate on what you are doing. Not only did it help maintain safety, but, it also allowed the time to pass by quickly.

Now I focused in placing the 2 x 4 x 10 feet pine boards into a vertical parallel pattern with 16 inches intervals between the studs. Then came the horizontal 2 x 4 x 10's; one on top, the other two on bottom. Using my measuring tape I determined it was square and went to each stud driving nails from the power hammer securing the studs into the frame.

I stopped to examine my work and decided it was acceptable and lifted the frame upright and braced it against the unfinished basement wall. Leaning against the frame I quickly found one of the pre-drilled holes I had made in the horizontal bottom board and grabbed the second air hammer and drove the long concrete nails all along the bottom.

A quick cursory look with my level showed me it was ok and then I went back to the first air hammer and quickly had the top braced. Another check to make sure it had remained squared and I stepped back to observe the result.

By itself, it didn't appear much in the stark empty basement, but, I had made the frame and had it up within 15 minutes. So at four frames an hour; I should be able to complete the entire framing this evening and be one step closer to completion.

I was glad that the earlier projects of running the conduit lines and electrical wiring and the HVAC ductwork had worked out well. Thank God, the plumbing had already been installed, so that was one headache I wouldn't have to worry about.

So this evening I would finish the framing. Saturday, put up the insulation and paneling and Sunday lay down the wood parquet tiles. That would certainly justify my weekend reward of the six pack of beer icing down in my ice cooler. Hard to believe that in a few short weeks I would be able to check off the entire basement project.

Hard to believe that I now limited my drinking to a single six pack of beer per weekend. Two beers a day after all the daily tasks were completed. It hadn't been that long ago that a six pack would serve as a warm up for some serious drinking. Thanks to Ms. Peterson; Ms. Denise fucking Peterson; Ms. Denise fucking ex wife Peterson.

I shook my head at the animosity I felt for Denise now. How could a woman I was so totally committed in love with turn out to be such a bitch? I forced myself to focus back onto my framing. The more I worked; the less time I would have to think; the sooner I would get through, so I could jump into a hot shower and then knock down the two longnecks. Then off to bed and if I was lucky there would be no dreams.

That was the crux of my existence nowadays. Find a way to stay busy that way there wouldn't be any time for the pain. It was a helluva way to live, but, it beats dying every day, I thought. With that last final thought I began preparing the boards for the second frame, and the third, and the fourth, and so on down the line. I staggered upstairs for my libations and for a hot shower before bed.

When I woke up I remembered to turn on my cell phone again. Twenty frigging calls and voice mail messages and all from the same source as yesterday. I dumped all the calls without bothering to listening to whatever demands Denise's secretary thought were necessary.

As I dressed I was cheered by the fact that I wouldn't be bothered for the weekend. I went to my computer and checked on a few pressing business situations. I sent out several e-mails on how to deal with the situations and went downstairs.

A quick trip to the kitchen provided me with my bowl of Wheaties and I munched down my Breakfast of Champions. With a sigh, I trudged back downstairs to the basement and put on my mask and started installing the rolls of insulation to the frames. I had a portable radio tuned to a classic rock station and so I whiled away the hours interspersing the songs with the noise of my labors and the occasional profanity slipping from me.

By mid afternoon, I had completed the installation and went upstairs to fix a sandwich. As I ate the turkey sandwich I stared outside to the gloomy, rainy November day. It reminded me of another rainy November day from last year.

*******************

I remembered how I stood drenched outside my in laws' house after I landed in Chicago on Thanksgiving morning. This would be a surprise visit as I certainly didn't get an invitation to attend from either my wife, or children, or my parents in laws. When the door swung open I saw the surprised look on my brother in law's face. Before he could come up with some lame excuse I managed to walk by him into the happy bustle in the house.

My appearance brought an instant silence to the joyous occasion. My 14-year-old son, Brian, looked down at the floor. Susan, my 17-year-old daughter hurriedly excused herself from the room.

My wife, Denise, extracted herself from the lap of the stranger who was holding her so familiarly. Even in her shame she sought to mitigate the damage by introducing me to Paul Starling. The stranger arose out of the chair and held out his hand for me to shake. I just stood there and stared at him until he finally dropped his hand.

Meanwhile, my dear Mother-in-law scurried into the room to assist in making sure nothing dramatic would happen. I thought, at least I was getting her carpet wet as the raindrops continued to drip off my trenchcoat.

"Why, Mark, we were not expecting you! When did you arrive?" I heard the bitch say.

I ignored her as I tried to catch my wife's face, but, she apparently found something very interesting on her mother's wall and would not turn and face me. I went back to the front door and walked outside and pulled out my cellphone and called the taxi service. With any luck I could catch the cab that had dropped me off before he got too far away.

No one from inside the house came out to persuade me to stay.

************************

I sighed as the painful memory came to an end. I went back down to the basement to begin installing the sheets of paneling. The job went by quickly as the sheets; while bulky, also covered a large area as I used the paneling nails to drive into the studs with my claw hammer.

Lucky for me the paneling that had cutouts for electrical wall outlets and heating/air vents all fitted perfectly. Now, I could use the heating unit, but, I found out that I quickly worked up a sweat so there wasn't much of a need for heat.

I was pleased that I had planned so carefully as I only had a few boards and a couple of sheets of spare paneling left over. I carried them to the garage and stowed them away until I had a chance to get them into the workshop.

I installed the electrical outlets and completed the wiring sequence for each one. Since I used the traditional color coding; there was no way to mess up a ground wire to a hot wire. Then hooking up the system to a circuit breaker into the breaker box; I determined that I had power to each new outlet and adequate circulation to the HVAC system.

In the great scheme of things it wasn't that big a deal, but, I screwed in the outlet's covers and the ducts' covers. Then I swept down the floor several times with the ShopVac to get the floor ready for the adhesive I would be applying in the morning. But now I had a shower calling for me.

The hot water soothed the aching muscles and I luxuriated in the steamy water. What a contrast to the bone chilling cold I felt going back to O'Hare Airport that past Thanksgiving. I was numbed physically and mentally as I negotiated for a ticket back home, damn the cost. I knew my marriage was dead; I just didn't know when the funeral would take place.

I toweled off and decided to go on to bed. Tomorrow would be another long and hopefully rewarding day. Almost immediately I went to sleep.

Sunday morning I woke to the sound of a thunderstorm brewing outside. I slipped on my Levi's and work boots and T shirt and trudged downstairs. I only hope we wouldn't lose power during the day. I turned the radio to a sports station so I could catch the game.

I began to liberally apply the adhesive to the basement floor and smoothed it even throughout the entire surface area. I had considered making a custom oak parquet floor for the basement, but, decided it would not be cost efficient. So I had boxes of premade parquet tiles waiting by the stairs.

I waited for the adhesive to set for its optimal time before starting to set the tiles down. I went back upstairs and mentally took notes on how to proceed for the next big project; sanding down the floors, and staining and varnishing them in the most expedient manner.

I made a list of the tools I would have to rent; a floor sander, and a floor buffer were the two most important. The other tools; small sanders, pry bars, hammers, brushes, rollers I already had in the work shop.

I would have to be extra careful not to crack or break the vintage baseboards or the moldings. I would also have to catalogue each individual piece so I would be able to fit each piece to the room it belonged in.

I went into the kitchen and brewed up a pot of coffee. I looked around the improved kitchen I had finished a month ago. Bright fluorescent light lit up the entire kitchen area, the new state of the art appliances sparkled, I sat in the breakfast nook adjacent to the new food preparation island I had built. The new Mexican glazed tiles added a colorful atmosphere to the island.

All I had to do was to knock out a non load-bearing wall to a room that was previously a small servant dining area to vastly extend the entire kitchen. Even expanding the shelves and the pantry still made the room too big. I finally built in a brick pizza oven that set off the final touch to the kitchen.

The thought of pizza brought to mind how I had met Denise and I drifted off back in time.

*************************

It was at a freshman mixer at a local pizza parlor at my university. I really didn't want to go, but, my roommate insisted. I stood there nursing down my illicit underage beer when I saw a tall brunette nearby.

She was athletic looking, long muscular legs, pert breasts, and a taut ass. And she was being harassed by some drunken lout. I couldn't hear what he said, but whatever it was earned him a slap across his face.

Before he could react I intervened and was between them so he could not assault her. That did not deter his rage as he tried to get to her. I managed to remain between them as he jostled me every way he could think of. Finally the bouncers showed up and escorted the guy out.

I turned around and stared right into the loveliest set of green eyes I think I've ever seen. She introduced herself as Denise and I told her I was Mark. We sat and talked for a while then she excused herself and I thought I would never see her again.

A month later I was walking across campus and I heard someone yelling at me. This crazed female dressed in a Raggedy Ann getup with Greek letters emblazed across the bib ran up to me.

"Hi, do you have a condom?"

The stunned look on my face led her to explain that she was pledging a sorority and needed to get a condom from a student on campus to complete her last task before getting accepted.

I could only nod and blush as I opened my wallet and handed her the Trojan I had kept since I was in the 9th grade. She screamed in delight and grabbed it and ran off to her sorority house.

I just watched as that lovely ass disappeared from view.

Another month passed and the campus prepared for Homecoming. I was walking back to my dorm when this person started walking besides me. I looked and tried to recognize where I had seen this girl before.

"Hi, are you ready to rescue me for the third time?"

I responded, "I beg your pardon?"

She stopped and that forced me to stop and she repeated, "Are you ready to rescue me for the third time? You saved me at the pizza parlor and when I needed to pledge my sorority; now, I need you to save me again."

Puzzled, I asked, "How am I suppose to rescue you?"

She explained, "I'm supposed to go to Homecoming with a guy from our brother fraternity, but, the guy is a real jackass. The only way I can get out of going is to have a date with someone else."

I sarcastically said, "Well, that works wonders for my ego! How could I refuse such a gracious offer?"

I don't think she realized that I was putting her on. She told me what sorority house she lived at and what time to be there. I walked off wondering what the hell had just happened. I went back to my room and told my roommate what had transpired.

He urged me to go on the date since otherwise I would just spend the evening like ever other Saturday night studying. He reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a condom and told me I might just get lucky.

In fact I did not get lucky. I did spend the entire date getting acquainted with Denise as we both ignored our inept football team and conversed throughout the game. After we left the stadium we decided to go to a small coffee house to continue our talk.

We were so animated that before we knew it they were closing the place down. We walked back to her house and I stalled trying to decide whether to try for a kiss. Denise decided for me as she told me goodnight and walked away without even a peck on the cheek.

I took that to mean that I didn't really make the grade as I walked back to my room. When I got in, my roommate was gone; I had grown accustomed to not expecting him to appear back before Sunday evening. I laid on my bed and fell asleep thinking of those green eyes.

All next month I tried to call Denise only to be told she was "unavailable." Word got back to me that she had started dating some other fellow. I was sad that I had lost out before I even had a chance to get into the game.

***************************

A clap of thunder shook me out of my reverie of Denise and I went back to the basement and laying down the tiles in the tongue and groove set on the sides of the tiles. I halfway listened to the game and only stopped to go retrieve a new box of tiles.

When I got to the end of the floor I stood and looked at the floor and was pleased as how they complimented the paneling. Not wanting to stop, I nailed down the miter baseboards, and voila, it was finished!

Now, all I had to do was to install the track lighting, and the crown molding and it would be done except for decorating the basement. But that was for another day; today, I would celebrate.

The business week would start in the morning and I would be able to focus solely on making money during those hours; perhaps in the evenings I would complete some piddling little jobs around the house that weren't worthy of wasting a weekend on. Then on Friday the cycle would repeat as I continued to stay busy working on the house.

That Friday, I went to the Home Depot and picked up the rented floor sander and buffer in my work pickup truck. I also purchased enough coarse, medium, and fine grade sandpaper pads to complete both floors of my house.

Throughout the week I had spent the evenings carefully prying up the molding and base boards through all the rooms. I had catalogued each piece and had already sanded them down. All I would have to do would be to sand down the areas using the sander. Since the baseboard and molding would conceal the area close to the walls I wouldn't have to sand exactly to the walls.

My phone rang and I looked at yet another call from Denise's office. Sporadically through the past week I had received calls from her, so much so, I finally put the number on speed dial so I could instantly recognize it.

That got me thinking of a Friday phone call a long time ago.

****************************

I was studying when the dorm phone rang. I figured it was for my roommate since he was the only one to get calls, but, he had already left. So I answered and was ready to take a message for him.

"Where the hell are you?" the voice screamed at me.

Taken aback I said, "Who is this?"

"What do you mean, 'Who is this?' This is Denise, now where the hell are you?"

Pissed off, I said, "Well you called me, where the hell do you think I am?"

"Look, just get your ass over here, pronto!"

I debated not going, but, the enticement of seeing her was too persuasive so I wound up at her sorority house. I gave my name and waited. Soon I saw Denise in the hallway apparently arguing with some guy. The conversation was quite animated as she pointed at me which earned a look of loathing from the guy.

She stormed outside and said, "We got to go!" and started leading me away.

After a distance I stopped and said, "Can you tell me what the hell this is about?"

She looked angrily at me and said, "That fraternity creep was bothering me again."

"And, how is that my fault?" I asked.

"I needed help!" she yelled.

"Why didn't you call your boyfriend?" I turned and walked away.

I wound up back at the coffee house where we had went on our Homecoming date. She came in and sat down beside me. She started talking and before I knew it I was over being pissed off. Then she told me she wanted to see me, but, with one small caveat.

"Look, I'm attracted to you, but, I'm not ready to be tied down to one guy. So, I want to date you as well as others and if this is meant to be then we will both know it. Can you handle that?"

I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of sharing her with anyone. Then she leaned over and kissed me and I knew I was a lost soul even then. Some weekends, I was lucky enough to get a date with her and other weekends I would languish back in my room torturing myself with the thoughts of her with someone else. After four months, I finally had sex with her in her car and I was even more smitten. Try as I could to convince her, she still refused to stop dating others. That convoluted merry go round went on for the next two years until one day she came up to me.

"I'm pregnant."

The Earth stood still.

She continued to look at me and said it was mine and I knew what she expected me to do. Mentally, I was screaming inside; I had one more year to get my BA in business then I would go and get my MBA and go collect a large salary. Then I would be in a position to propose to Denise. Now was way too soon.

Denise's plan was to get her degree in history and apply to law school. That meant three more years for her as well.