Blind Love, Reunited

That pissed me off, I said a little too angrily, "Hey, I'm right here you know."

Eva snapped back, "Oh, shut up. You made me participate in your plan against my will and now I'm done coddling you. My kids grew up, but you never did, bro. And don't blame your blindness on it either."

Just then Alice stormed into the kitchen, "Mommy! Mr. Paul doesn't even have a TV. Not in the whole house!"

Polly scolded her back, "Alice, you can't just go snooping into someone else's home."

"Well don't you think that's kinda weird, Mommy?"

I was feeling a little light headed. I walked to the slider at the back of the kitchen and grabbed a cane that I kept there though I didn't need it where I was going. "I'm going to get some air on the patio while you ladies talk about me." I could feel them stare at my back as I walked out.

* O~>

My apartment was small, and now and again I would get a whiff of stale smoke from renters in the past, but the one thing it had going for it was a great patio. It had a slice of shade close to the back of the apartment where I had a small table and some comfortable chairs where I'd listen to books on tape or read using braille, but the rest was a nice size and got sun all year round. In that space I had Eva's husband, Rick, help me install three rows of raised bed planters. On the left side row I grew vegetables, on the right side row I had a few dwarf fruit trees, and down the center, it was all lavender. I sat on the shallow wall with the lavender and felt the warm sun on my skin.

Suddenly there was a presence near me. A squeaky little voice said, "You can't see, huh?"

"Nope," I replied. Then she didn't say anything, but I knew something was up. "Not even when you wave your arms around and make faces."

"Hey, you said you couldn't see."

That made me laugh. "My sister's daughter, my niece, was 6 years old once, and she did the same thing to me."

"Hey, how did you know I'm 6?"

"Maybe it was a lucky guess, maybe I have super powers, you figure it out."

"How old are you?"

I replied honestly, "I'm 34."

"Oh," she said, "That's a lot. My mommy is 28, that's a lot too but not as much." That made me laugh again as I knew she was 33.

"How old is your daddy," I asked.

"I don't know," I could picture a little version of Polly shrugging her shoulders, "I don't know him very good."

That made me curious, but I let it drop. I asked if she liked vegetables and motioned to that side of my garden. "Eww," she responded, "vegetables are yucky."

The way she said it made me laugh at her inflection. So much like her mother.

"What about potatoes? Do you like those?" I asked, baiting her.

"Nope. Yucky."

I laughed again. "Potatoes are my favorite vegetable. That's what French fries are made from." OK, technically only marginally true that it's a vegie, but that's what I used to tell my mother when I was a kid.

"Reeeally? I love French fries." I wish I could see her expression, I bet it was priceless.

I brought her over to a certain patch in my garden and felt around. When I got to the base of one of my potato plants, I made an X in the dirt with my finger just next to it and told her to dig around with her hands. I had actually just recently harvested it but I knew there were some little ones that I had left behind, and that the soil was soft from my digging around there. She dug down and a few minutes later pulled out a little potato that she described to me after a shriek of delight.

I went for the mother load after that. "Alice, what about tomatoes? Do you like them?"

"Ewww. No way."

"Do you like ketchup on your French fries?" I drew out the words.

"Yes!"

"Do you like spaghetti?" What kid doesn't like spaghetti, right?

"Yes!"

"Spaghetti sauce and ketchup are made from tomatoes, even pizza sauce is," I said. I took her over to where my cherry tomatoes were strung up high, in the Southern California environment I have a long growing season. I felt around until I found one about the right size and asked Alice what color it was and she confirmed it was red. I pulled it off, wiped it clean with my shirt, and handed it to her.

"Just try it. It's so sweet it's almost like candy. I promise you this is what ketchup and spaghetti sauce are made of." I could almost hear her hesitation.

She asked, "Can I spit it out if I don't like it?"

"Sure. You can even spit it in my hand if you want to."

"Ooooookaaaaaay." I didn't hear anything, waiting to feel an ABC mushy mess get spat into my open hand until she excitedly said, "That was good, can I have another one?"

That made me laugh again. With her help finding the red ones, we spent some time together harvesting and she ate about every third one. We put the rest into a basket I kept nearby.

She told me the only joke she knew, something that only a 6 year old would find funny, but the silliness of it made me laugh harder than I had for a long time. Alice then said, "Mommy, want a tomato? These are amaaaaazing. Can we bring some home?" Oh shit, I had been laughing so hard I didn't hear Polly enter the patio and I wondered how long she had been there.

"Don't tell me you fed my daughter a tomato, Paul." I couldn't tell if Polly was mad or not.

"Oh no, is she allergic?!" I asked with alarm.

Now Polly laughed, "No, not literally. But your new little friend, Miss Picky here, refuses to eat them for me. And every other vegetable."

I stood up and slapped my hands against my pants, not that I had as much dirt and tomato juice on them as Alice must have had, but to hide my nerves.

Someone approached me and started fixing my collar and I knew it was Eva when she spoke in a motherly tone, "It was nice to see you laughing again, little brother."

She stepped back and said, "Um, we decided that Pauline and Alice would take you shopping today. I'm actually going to get my nails done for the first time in forever while Rick thinks I'm taking care of you."

That sunk in and the reality of what would happen shook me, "No! Sis, no! You don't remember what a stinker Polly is. Instead of Chef Boyardee, I'll get a can of green beans. Please. Don't do this to me."

I heard Pauline chuckling somewhere behind Eva. Then she said, "Oh, come on Paul. You can always run it by Alice if you don't trust me, and your sister can use a break."

Even one of these women was a force to reckon with, but two of them? I wasn't going to win.

Eva said, "Don't forget, Paul. Rick Jr. is picking you up tomorrow at seven to go surfing. He's excited for you to try a new wax out. He was getting the boards ready this morning when I left."

I grumbled something and then Eva said her goodbyes to Polly and Alice, promising they'd do lunch real soon. Then she left and I was alone with my pantry executioner and her daughter.

* O~>

Polly strapped Alice into her car seat in the backseat of a huge pickup truck. Polly had to help me find the running board and a handle inside of the passenger seat in order to lift myself up into this beast. I asked her what she did with her old beater Ford F150 and she told me she drove it into the ground. Her current truck was part of her divorce. She always did like a pickup.

In an uncharacteristic move that I thought was strange, she turned the radio off right after starting the engine but I didn't say anything about that.

Shopping with these two females turned out to be a hoot. Pauline's silly nature really comes out when she's in a mood and when she communicates with her daughter. Alice sat in the shopping cart seat and Pauline zig zagged her around the grocery store. I had a difficult time keeping up with them.

At the canned food aisle, I asked for 5 cans of Chef Boyardee, specifically the mini ravioli. I heard Alice giggle then scold her mother as cans went into the cart. "Mo-omie. Those cans are green beans." Polly gasped dramatically and declared her daughter a traitor, while I begged Alice to keep her mother honest. From there it got ridiculous, Polly punking me with almost every grocery item while Alice was giggling in fits before giving me the rundown of what was really placed in the cart. Then I'd fish out the offending item from the cart and Alice would help me find shit I would actually eat.

I had almost forgotten how off the wall and silly that Pauline could be. My mom used to say that about me and one time at a barbecue with the family, while Pauline and I were keeping each other in stitches using dumb puns and bad one liners, Mom declared that we were indeed made for each other. She said, "You two need to get married because neither of you will find another soul that could make each other laugh at such silliness." At the time, we both knew she was right. I really missed that much laughter in my life. Any laughter, actually.

That noticeably changed my mood and Pauline knew it. She elbowed me in the ribs and snapped me out of it by putting a can of anchovies in the cart. "Mo-omie! Ewww. Mr. Paul, she put little fish in a can in the cart. Dead fish!"

The whole shopping experience, which would have taken 20 minutes with my sister, took us an hour. Back at the apartment, the two helped me with the groceries, putting away things that I knew would be all mixed up in my pantry, making the next two weeks of meals a mystery.

Polly declared that she and Alice should go but asked if I would play a song for her and Alice on the guitar first. I brought out my guitar and asked if she would sing. Alice squealed encouragement at the idea and clapped her hands.

Pauline hesitated before saying, "I don't sing anymore."

"Aww, really? That makes me sad, you had such a beautiful voice." Then a thought occurred to me, "Hey, Alice, does your mom still sing along with the radio in the car?"

Alice responded with enthusiasm, "Yes! With almost every song. She knows the words to everything!"

I laughed at that, remembering. "C'mon, Polly. Sing for us."

"Pleeeeeeze, Mommy," Alice begged.

Polly sighed and gave in, "Fine, one song and I get to pick it."

I plopped onto my chair with guitar ready, glad that I had tuned it earlier. "Lay it on me."

"Al Green's Let's Stay Together." Ooh, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Was she telling me something? Well, maybe not, she had sung this to my guitar countless times when we were younger. We were always big fans of oldies, but I understood the message she was trying to tell me in the lyrics.

After the final note, I didn't even realize that a tear had escaped my eye until I felt her wipe it away with her thumb. Alice was going nuts in the background, cheering her mother's performance. All I could get out was, "Still the voice of an angel."

She chuckled and said, "I don't know about that, but we really have to go now."

She held my shoulders and kissed my cheek. Being really close and with a low voice, she said, "I would smell your toothpaste real carefully before you use it. I might have thrown some Preparation H in with your groceries and the tube is about the same size as a tube of toothpaste. Good luck with that." I could picture Pauline grinning ear to ear and then she chuckled after the face I made. Damn that woman.

I felt Alice hug my legs and she informed me that she was taking the extra tomatoes she harvested, thanking me for those. Polly pulled me in for a hug too then rose onto her toes and with her lips near my ear said, "Do you still surf at Swami's in Encinitas?" The closeness made me forget myself, so I just mumbled that I did. She just replied, "Hmmm," and let go.

They left and I went into my bathroom and felt around for any tube of anything I could find and removed the caps to give a sniff. Lotions and toothpastes, nothing like Preparation H. Whew. What a stinker that woman was.

* O~>

Ricky picked me up in his father's truck Sunday morning. He was all piss and vinegar when I got in the cab, he couldn't wait to get out on a wave, and he was excited for us to try this new board wax he had been hearing about. I really liked this kid, he was fun to be around while growing up, whenever he got into something, his enthusiasm was contagious. I just wish I had been the one that taught him how to surf.

In the back seat of the 4-door pickup was his sister, Lauren. She was never interested in surfing though I was able to talk her into getting on a board a few times when she was about 12, paddling out with me and her brother but she said she never got over her fear of sharks so couldn't get into it. Still, at 15 now, two years younger than her brother, she sometimes liked to go to the beach with us and watch. Ricky told me that the real reason she'd go with us was because the boys on the beach would talk her up and she liked their attention. If she looked anything like my sister looked at 15, then I'm sure she got lots of it.

We were almost at the beach when Laruen spoke up, "Mom says that an old flame of yours has been hanging around you lately. Mom showed me a picture of her when you two were an item. She was hot, Uncle Paul."

I mumbled back, "Yeah, she was hot, but don't get any ideas. Too much water under the bridge."

"An ex-girlfriend?" Ricky was processing what his sister had said and then excitedly, "O.M.G. Please tell me that she's talking about Pauline." He didn't wait for anyone to answer, "Uncle Paul, do you remember when you and her took us to Disneyland? That was so fun. Pauline made sure you kept us full of ice cream and popcorn all day and made sure we went on every ride we could. I had such a crush on her. And I didn't even like girls back then. Do you remember that, sis?"

Lauren replied humbly, "Kinda. I looked at the picture though and didn't really recognize her. She sure was gorgeous though." After a pause in the conversation, Lauren added, "Mom thinks you two should get back together."

Ricky, Mr. Enthusiasm, agreed, "You got to, Uncle Paul! Got to! It's about time you got a piece of ass."

I scolded back, "Ricky! You are better than that. I know for a fact that your folks taught you to respect women, and thinking of them as a 'piece of ass' is not respectful."

"OK, OK, Uncle Paul," Ricky defended himself, "let me put it this way. You could use a nice, respectful woman to hold at night. Don't tell me you're not lonely in that empty apartment of yours."

I could hear Lauren lean forward in her seat, "Uncle Paul, I actually agree with my stupid brother for once. You deserve someone special. Mom said that you've run and hidden from being happy ever since you went blind. Don't blow this chance."

Fortunately, the conversation ended as we turned onto CA-101, also known as the Pacific Coast Highway, as we were mulling what had been said, mostly lost in our own thoughts while Ricky had to concentrate on finding a parking space. I could smell the salty sea air through the open window. I loved that smell. Made me almost forget how pissed I was that my sister brought the subject up with the kids.

* O~>

I was on my surfboard just beyond the break, even with my wetsuit on to keep me warm, the cold slowly started creeping in. The cold might not have even been from the Pacific, but of my own doing. In my mind I could not stop thinking of what the kids had said. They were good kids, better than most teenagers. My sister and brother in law had done a good job with them, and I hoped I had some influence over the years I lived and sat for them while their folks were working.

I just could not stop retracing my past, specifically the years I spent with Pauline. They were good years. We had some excellent times. I don't remember a single fight. I'm sure we did from time to time, but I couldn't remember even once. We had such trust in one another, we respected one another, we laughed at all kinds of such stupid jokes that no one else seemed to find funny.

There were times that it would have been easy to be unfaithful, but I never was. Not once. I loved her so completely that I could never hurt her for any reason. Or at least so I thought, until I lied about loving someone else.

Likewise, I think ultimately, she was always faithful to me too, even when it would have been easy for her to not have been. When she walked into a crowded room, she got attention from men and they would hit on her, even right in front of me. She dismissed them so completely that I believed she did that even when I wasn't around. What we had together was just so much better than any other offers that came our way.

I had forgotten that when we were dating, and even when we were living together, that my niece and nephew were so little but yet always seemed to be around. I was overjoyed that Ricky remembered us taking him and his sister to Disneyland when their folks needed a break. I'll never forget how much fun we had at the amusement park just an hour up I-5 from where we lived. Pauline was just like a big kid and made it even more special for the little ones. I remember all of them fast asleep on the car ride home, reflecting on a great day, looking into the future when Pauline and I were talking about taking our own children to Disneyland someday. It seemed like a sure thing.

I was broken from my twisted reverie when Ricky paddled up nearby and shouted out my name. We had a routine, I would sit on my board beyond the break for a while and Ricky would catch a few. Then he would signal to the local surfers nearby and they would give me a wave freely and keep their distance while I took it. They were good guys. We were a little south of where the serious, aggressive surfers would have never given a good wave up to a blind guy, which is why we surfed at our regular spot though the break provided much milder wave action. It was what I needed in actuality.

"How'd you do on that last one Ricky?" I asked, "It sounded like a monster."

He laughed and said, "Not really, Uncle Paul, but I crushed it like it was one." I nodded and smiled, he said, "Hey, I made the signal and got the thumbs up from all around. This next one's yours. Count to ten and then start paddling like a bat out of hell. They're breaking harder to your left."

I felt the swell lift me up and then by the time I got to ten, I was at the bottom and ready. I paddled with all of my might, bearing to the left, intending on keeping ahead of it. My last two outings had not finished well, my body getting pounded like a rag doll, I was determined to catch this wave and own it this time. I got an enormous push from behind from the surge, I could hear the wave starting to break and my velocity increased as I leaned into the left of it. I managed to stand into a crouch with my feet rooted to the board into position. Feeling the velocity increase even more, I leaned into it and went even faster. I was going to thank Ricky for the new wax, I hadn't ever felt so securely glued to the board before. I felt myself slowing down and knew the ride was about over, so I bounced up and down a few times trying to keep some velocity. I then slipped off the board, probably earlier than the surfers who had eyesight would, it was just that I had had enough of getting my face scraped off from the abrasive California sand.

It felt so good to catch and run out a wave. As I carried my board up to the dry sand to wait out Ricky, I was feeling good about myself, made even better with one of the locals coming over and saying, "Dude, that was awesome."

Next thing I knew, there were lips on mine, just briefly. A familiar voice said, "Damn, you look so sexy on a surfboard. I've missed watching you do that. Looked good out there."

"Polly...?" I stammered.

I heard Ricky shout out, "Miss Pauline! Remember me? Wow you still look exactly like I remember you. Did you see Uncle Paul out there?"

She responded, "Wow, look at you, Ricky. All grown up. Oh my gosh, you look just like your father."

He laughed, "I'd hug you but I'm all wet and gross."