He was doing the carpeting when his legs started to hurt alittle. He wasn't used to being on his feet so long in heels. Itwasn't bad and he felt good doing the cleaning. He was enjoyinghimself. When he finished she told him he could hand wash and dry thedishes. There were the dishes from breakfast and from supper thenight before. She was going to do them later, then decided to havehim do them. She was amazed at how fast he got started on them. He was busy when she saw a car pull into the driveway. It was hersister. She opened the door for her and invited her in. Tori asked, "How come you aren't at the salon? I thought youworked every Saturday?" Tricia, her sister, said, "I had a special job to do. Mrs.Jennings down the street fell and broke her leg. She can't getaround real good and as she is a regular good customer we agreed todo her up at home." Tori said, "That's really nice that you would do something likethat. I never realized you did home visits." "We don't do a lot. Fifteen years of guilt and anguish eating athis soul. Until the clench of pain had caused him to fold in half andturn white as a dead fish as the stab hit his gut. Tests, indignity uponindignity. Then a verdict. Passionless and direct. Cancer. Inoperable.Options... all refused. And now pain was a constant, but probably notfor long. She glanced at him then, watched his face as a small smile crossed overthe tired features. A sudden grimace and then eyes still closed, thesmile returned. "So. Ma bella, how do you come to be as you are? Alone and insecure. Awoman who is not and yet is, more than some born to it." He did not move or open his eyes as he lay on the rug seemingly at peaceas her thoughts ran rampant. How dare he. Get off my rug and go back towhere... Yet she said nothing. After some minutes she started to talk. Aconvoluted tale of pain and longing. Baffled indecision and gradualsubmersion as reality took hold. Marriage, disillusionment. Loss andsolitude, leading to... a.
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