The Devil's Bargain Ch. 09

Lisa came. Hard.

I didn't, but I held her close, and lifted her back onto the bed. That's when I noticed that the street was dark. The power had gone out.

- "Stay here." I said.

I fumbled about in the dark, while the rain pelted down, and the lightning and thunder continued (but not so close). I got downstairs without tripping, and found my flashlight. Freya was cowering beside the couch in the basement. I reassured her as best I could, and then brought her back upstairs with me.

I found some candles, and lit a couple. Lisa came out to join us, and took Freya into her arms. All three of us went to the front window.

It was an incredible sight. The whole street was in darkness, but the rain was coming down in torrents. It was like being under a waterfall. The storm sewers simply couldn't handle the volume; it looked like the water was knee deep just in front of the neighbour's house.

Freya calmed down, partially from being with us, but mainly because the thunder had moved on. The booms and rumbles were less frequent, and farther away.

Lisa was still excited, though. And so was I; I hadn't come in the bedroom. We were both nude, in the darkness. Lisa moaned as her fingers closed around my erection. Who knows? Maybe the storm was turning me on, as well.

My girlfriend dropped to her knees, and took me in her mouth, right there in front of the window.

That was the highlight of that incredible night.

The lowlight came at 2 A.M., when my phone rang. Honestly, nobody called me at night, except scammers, pollsters... and Mom.

- "Daniel?" she said.

- "Mom? What are you doing up?"

- "The power is out. There's no light. And there's water in the basement."

- "Oh, no. How much?"

- "I don't know. It's like a big puddle."

- "Mom - I can't come over now. But I'll be there first thing in the morning. Go back to bed, okay? I'll be there in the morning."

Of course, I had to go downstairs, and check on my basement.

I shouldn't have. The flashlight revealed at least four inches of water.

***

If you've ever had a flooded basement - or maybe some other major household disaster, like a fire, or a tree falling on your roof - then you have some idea of what I was in for.

First, the phone call to the insurance company, who were literally swamped, because mine and Mom's were only two of the 600 or so houses that were flooded. Every house on my side of the street had been hit. Fortunately, George and Anna hadn't been flooded. The insurers promised to have somebody come by in three days. They were bringing claims adjusters from other towns and cities all over southern Ontario to help with the unprecedented number of calls.

The sewers simply couldn't handle the volume of water, and backed up, we were told. I was also given the good news: the water probably wasn't contaminated. I went to Mom's house first.

I rented a shop vac, to clean up what was left of the water. Then I got to inspect the damage. Mom's baseboards were wet, and the bottom of the drywall all around her basement was thoroughly soaked. The floor was tiled, but the rugs were a mess. They couldn't be cleaned and disinfected. The couch was a write-off. The crawlspace was a nightmare: there had to be fifty cardboard boxes back there, all wet.             

My house wasn't much better. We had panelling, rather than drywall, but they were all soaked at the bottom. The wall-to-wall carpet Connie had wanted (mainly for Freya's benefit) was in horrible shape: I cut up a piece, and found that the padding underneath was one huge, dirty sponge. The dog's bed and many of her toys had to go, too.

Lisa worked miracles. She took care of Freya, all day long, so that I was free to go to Mom's. She offered to prepare meals for me, but Mom was taking care of that. Most important of all, Lisa was there to support me when I got home.

Carrying wet chunks of carpet up the stairs and into the backyard was no picnic. It had to be done, though. The water might not have been contaminated, but it wasn't clean, either. I had to get rid of the water, wash the bare floor with detergent, and then wash it again with bleach.

Alright - that's enough of that. It was tiring, disheartening work. So was dealing with the insurance company. Doing everything twice over... well, you get the picture.

It was also tough to handle Mom. She couldn't understand why I wasn't at her house 24 hours a day. She also couldn't resist looking over my shoulder as I worked, and offering (un)helpful suggestions. When I finally got started on her crawlspace, she insisted on seeing everything in those soggy boxes before letting me throw anything away.

I'd been right: she didn't know what was in half of them. Two of them contained her father's (Connie's grandfather's) old junk. I'd bought a bunch of new boxes, and some heavy-duty garbage bags. In my opinion, most of that stuff should have gone straight to the curb.

- "Oh, look at this!" she would say.

- "Don't touch it, Mom. It's filthy!"

- "I can wash it."

To make a long story short(er), the flood was a learning experience. I discovered the limits of my patience, and realized that we probably all have homicidal thoughts from time to time. I learned that George didn't have a grudge against me for dating his daughter; he cut my grass for me while I was over at Mom's.

Most of all, though, I realized that Lisa was an angel. She had some kind of sixth sense, so that she knew when to make love to me, and when to simply hold me as I fell asleep. She also knew when a swim in the pool (which she had kept clean) would refresh me. Lisa cheered me up, without appearing to be trying to do just that.

- "You're a marvel." I told her.

- "You'd do the same for me." she said. "Does Burton's Lake ring a bell?"

- "It's not a competition. Just accept the compliment, and know that I love you."

Oops. I hadn't meant to say that. It felt right, though.

- "I love you too, Dan." she said. "But you already knew that."

- "You've been showing me - every day."

She took my hand. "Are you feeling energetic enough to make love to me? That would be a perfect way to end the day."

***

In September, Lisa started her Masters program. She had only a few classes, and her hours outside of class were very flexible. She did have a major paper to write, but she was already ahead of schedule, with all the reading she'd done over the summer.

She was organized and super-productive. I was pleased that she made me her sounding board for some of her ideas, and coerced me into proofreading her papers and assignments.

We found time to go out, and she spent about half of her nights sleeping at my house.

She also asked me a question I should have considered long before.

- "Have you ever thought of living with your mother-in-law?"

I did a double take. "Say what now?"

- "Two floods. Two lawns. Two pools."

- "I know, but..."

- "But?"

- "Honestly? She would drive me crazy."

- "She drives you crazy as it is. And you have to drive over there four or five times a week. There - you'd save on gas, too."

It sounded crazy. And yet...

"You wouldn't even have to sell one of the houses. You could rent the second place."

She planted the idea in my head, and let it take root. She gave it a little water, some sunlight... and time.

- "It's not a bad idea." I conceded, at the beginning of October.

- "I saw what you went through with the flooding. You don't ever want to experience something like that again."

No, I didn't. And I'd been thinking about things that Lisa had brought to my attention. The master bedroom, which I never used. Mom's trouble with stairs - which would only get worse. The financial aspects, and my travel to and fro.

I applied engineer's logic to the situation. There was only one item on the negative side of the ledger: could I live with Connie's mother?

Meanwhile, I'd been thinking about what might happen if she fell again. If she couldn't get to the phone (her landline), I might not know about it for two days.

The next step, obviously, was to try the idea out on her. I cut Mom's grass, and cleaned her pool. She fed me, of course. And I asked her what she thought about the idea of sharing a house with me.

She blinked. "Well, I suppose it could work." she said. "You could have one of the bedrooms upstairs."

- "Actually, Mom, I was thinking about you moving in with me. You could have the master bedroom, and the ensuite bathroom. Everything you need would be on the same floor. One-floor living; no need to go up and down the stairs."

- "That makes no sense." she said. "Your house is small. Where would I put all my things?"

- "What things?"

- "My furniture. My pictures. Everything."

- "Mom. Those are just... things. You don't need all of them. Remember the crawlspace? There were boxes full of junk that you hadn't laid eyes on in twenty years."

- "Junk? There were important memories in those boxes. I'm glad that I was able to save them. You would have thrown them all away."

Mom was religious. Not a lunatic, like my parents, but she believed that some part of her husband was still present at his grave site. She expected to go to heaven, and she knew that she couldn't take all of her 'stuff' with her, but she was determined to hang onto it until the last possible moment.

- "Mom - you're having trouble with the stairs. It's not going to get better. It will get worse. And I worry about you, when I'm not there."

I then outlined every argument I could think of that supported the idea that we would both be better off if we lived in together.

- "I understand, Daniel." she said. "But I'm not leaving my house. You can move in here."

***

I confessed my failure to Lisa.

- "Was it a failure, though?" she asked. "It sounds like your Mom wasn't entirely averse to the idea."

- "What?" There was absolutely no way that I would feel comfortable making love to Lisa in the room right next to Mom's bedroom. The same applied to the room across from Mom's bedroom.

Lisa laughed. "You said she was deaf, didn't you? I could be as loud as I wanted to."

- "Right." I said. Lisa wasn't loud at all. Passionate, yes - but not vocal.

- "Oh, Dan! Oh! OH!"

- "Not funny, Leece."

- "It's a little bit funny."

- "Alright. A little."

***

She'd put a bug in my ear. At odd times, I found myself thinking about whether it would be possible to live with Mom. What if there was a way for us to have separate spaces? Or if I could arrange things so that she could live on the main floor, and not have to deal with the stairs...

I took a closer look at every room in her house. I got some ideas, and made a few drawings. I showed them to Lisa. Eventually, I brought her over to Mom's house, to see for herself.

They'd met before, at our house, but that was years ago. I had to remind Mom that Lisa was my neighbour. I didn't say anything about her being my girlfriend.

- "George and Anna's daughter. You remember George and Anna?"

- "Yes. Your neighbours. But... why is she here?"

- "Lisa had excellent taste, Mom. I'm getting her opinion on what we might be able to do with your house."

- "Why? What are you going to do to my house?"

- "Nothing, yet. We're just looking at what sort of renovations might be possible."

- "It doesn't need renovations, Daniel."

Mom was upset. I could tell, because she made coffee, but didn't offer to feed us. I took Lisa upstairs. I took photos of every room.

- "Three bedrooms could become two and a den. Or you could knock out a wall, and have a super-sized bedroom. Or you could use part of one room to expand the bathroom."

She was even more enthousiastic about the possibilities on the main floor.

"The living room is huge - it's like a soccer field."

It was. Connie's Mom was of that generation who kept their living room absolutely spotless, and never used it. If she had company, Mom would entertain them in the kitchen, or in the TV room towards the back of the house.

"Let me guess." said Lisa. "She never uses the office here, does she?"

- "It was her husband's. Everything on the shelves was his. She keeps envelopes and stamps in the desk, but she pays the bills at her kitchen table."

- "Wow."

We had coffee with Mom, who was still a little grumpy. I told her that I wasn't going to change anything unless she approved, which mollified her a bit.

In the car on the way home, Lisa shared a few more ideas.

- "That den could be expanded. It's right next to the living room. You could make it into a sizeable bedroom, with lots of closet space. Then the powder room could be made into a full shower - ensuite, if you wanted."

- "So Mom could live on the main floor, and you could have the upstairs. You could do whatever you wanted up there. And Freya would be pretty happy downstairs, once you get some new rugs in."

I bought Lisa dinner as a thank you, and then took her home for a full body massage - with oil. She took that as another way of me saying thank you, but I knew full well how selfish a gift it really was.

***

I worked out a rough estimate of what it would take (and what it might cost) to renovate Mom's main floor. I could do a lot of the work myself, and I had a couple of friends at work who could help. George's brother was an electrician; he was prepared to do me a favour for a small sum (under the table, of course).

In December, I broached the idea to Mom: transform the den into a bedroom for her, add a shower (plus some bells and whistles) to an expanded bathroom.

She was stunned.

- "Why would you want to change my house?"

In her view, it was perfect just the way it was. There was a spare bedroom upstairs that I could have. The concept of privacy, or the idea that I might want to bring a few things from my house simply never occurred to her.

***

It wasn't the end of the world.

Lisa was... wonderful.

Our sex life was all I could've asked for. She was a generous lover, who pursued her own pleasure, but never forgot mine. She initiated sex as often as I did, if not slightly more. But we were intimate, as well as active, and I truly loved waking up next to her in the morning.

I also enjoyed her company, without wondering if it was going to lead to sex. She talked about books, and music, and personalities, and introduced me to authors and artists that I was not familiar with. In many respects, she was the teacher, and I was the student.

Time passes. Some of the greatest times of our lives flit by, the months changing so rapidly that they march by almost unnoticed. Time does seem to speed up as you get older.

- "I love you." she reminded me, in late October.

Then it was Christmas, and I brought her with me to Mom's house, where I re-introduced her as my good friend.

When I'd made the bargain with Tansa, I'd wanted to have sex with women - with a woman. Lisa was simultaneously more than I'd expected, and more than I deserved. I knew that there was a time limit on our relationship, but I rarely worried about it. It seemed... so far away.

***

In early March, I proofread the first 40 pages of Lisa's research paper. She was well ahead of schedule. I can't say that I understood everything she was driving at, but it was well written, and well supported.

In early April, Mom fell on her stairs. She broke her wrist again, and gave herself a concussion.

***

I spent most of the months of April and May with Mom, feeding her, helping her up the stairs, and performing dozens more tasks that she couldn't do for herself. She began to realize that she needed help (never mind the assistance that I'd been providing for the past five years).

In an uncharacteristic moment of openness, she asked me to re-explain my renovation plan for her main floor.

The powder room would become a full bathroom, with shower, her late husband's office/den would become a bedroom, with extensive closet space, provided at the expense of her largely unused living room.

- "Alright." she said. "Let's do that."

- "Are you sure?"

- "Yes. Let's do it."

***

Lisa finished her course work in May.

- "What about your research paper?" I asked.

- "I could push hard, and submit it in June, or July. But there's no rush."

- "No rush?"

- "Are you happy, Dan?"

- "With you? You know I am." It had been perhaps the best year of my life - the flooding and Mom included.

- "So am I. Why would I put my nose to the grindstone, just so I can finish my academic work before it's ready? I can go to Victoria in January."

- "Lisa - are you putting it off so that you can stay here longer?"

- "Yes, Dan. And... no, at the same time."

She explained it to me. Lisa couldn't start her PhD in September, because the result of her research paper wouldn't be known. Universities move at one of two speeds: slow, and glacial. But she was fine with that. She could use the summer and fall to apply for scholarships and fellowships, and have them begin in January. She stood to make even more money than she was now.

"Instead of rushing my research paper, I take my time, and do a thorough job. Maybe have it published. That way, when I arrive in Victoria, my reputation can precede me, a little. I won't waste any time; I can start research for my PhD thesis in January, and pick up the course load the following September."

- "And that way you spend more time with me."

- "I promise: I'm not sacrificing anything by delaying the start of my program a little bit. And yes - the prospect of a few more months with you is very appealing. It wasn't the deciding factor, but it was a major consideration. Is that fair?"

How could I argue with that?

Two young engineers from work helped me out at Mom's. I had always helped the rookies - mentored them, if you will - because somebody older had helped me through my first year. 'Sink or swim' is a shitty way to start. Somebody helped me; I paid it forward.

Josh was a stereotypical nerd, but he was very willing. Pete was a homely fellow who lacked social skills, but I liked him - and he could handle plumbing. Yes, I paid them, but I suspect that they might have done it for pizza and beer alone.

- "You guys are amazing." Lisa told them - and you could see their hearts swell. They were like me at 22: inexperienced, naive, and idealistic, with no idea of how to approach women.

I spent quite a few hours with Josh and Pete, and learned a lot about them. They learned about me, too.

- "She's your girlfriend?" said Pete.

- "Lisa? Yes."

- "Fuuuck...."

Knocking out a wall was no big deal. Installing closets and cupboards went well, too. The bathroom caused complications, but Josh and Pete and I bonded over that summer. We ate a ton of pizza, drank quite a few beers, and talked about life, as well as technical issues.

I was immensely grateful to them for their largely underpaid labour, and they seemed happy to be there, and to hang out with me - for whatever reason.

Mom wasn't thrilled with the mess on her main floor, but the guys worked fairly quickly, and they were very polite. When she saw the shape of her new bedroom and bathroom begin to emerge, Mom perked up a bit. She even baked a couple of pies for Josh and Pete, as a thank you.

In September, the job was done; Mom could now live on the main floor, without ever having to go upstairs at all. But there was still a ton of work for me to do. Most everything in Mom's upstairs bedroom had to be taken downstairs.

Her former bedroom I turned into a guest bedroom, should we ever need one. I took one of the other bedrooms for myself, and the third room became a den, or office space. Most of the contents of those rooms went to the Goodwill store, though I gave a few pieces of furniture to Pete (his own apartment was a little Spartan).