start remodeling, then I unknowingly hired an architect who was the estranged ex-husband of the woman who issues building permits, then my sheetrocker decided to go to Florida to pick up some work after hurricane season, then I managed to order the only carpet in the store that was backordered for a month, not that anyone thought to tell me this at the time! And then, just as a little extra bonus, my painter won sixty-three thousand dollars in the lottery and decided to give up painting and go to law school!”
“Oh, you know Tommy?” the plumber asked brightly. “Yeah, wasn’t that something? First time he ever bought a lottery ticket, and it turns out to be a winner. You know, I said to him…” He stopped and looked at me. “Oh. Sorry. Yeah, you’ve had a run of bad luck, that’s for sure.”
I nodded grimly. “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”
He grinned. “Is that one of those Texas sayings? My cousin’s wife is from there, and she’s always saying stuff like that. Like when Tommy won the lottery, she said he was so lucky he could sit on a fence and the birds would feed him .” He laughed.
“Of course, it wasn’t true. Tommy was real sick with Lyme disease year before last, and then, when he finally got well, a guy ran into him and totaled his truck. The insurance company didn’t want to pay but half of what it was worth. That’s why Tommy decided he wanted to go to law school, so I was real happy for him when he won that money, you know? He was due.”
I bit my lip and decided not to comment.
“What it all comes down to,” I continued, “is that, as of last week, I had to start paying rent on a shop I’ve spent twenty thousand dollars fixing up but has yet to make its first dollar or welcome its first customer.”
“Well,” the plumber observed, “at least you’ve been able to live rent free for six months. That’s worth something. And it’s a nice place you’ve got here. Small. But nice.”
I looked around at the apartment and sighed. “Small” was the word, all right—just one bedroom and bath with a tiny closet, and this room, the living-sewing-dining-kitchen area. But it had a real wood-burning fireplace, which I’d always wanted but never had, exposed brick walls, the perfect backdrop to display my favorite quilts, and two tall windows that let in plenty of sunlight and looked out onto the cobbled courtyard. There was just enough room for everything I needed: my sofa, the easy chair with my standing quilt hoop, a scarred oak table and four chairs I’d found in one of the antique stores, and, most importantly, my sewing machine and cutting table, tucked neatly into a well-lit corner. He was right. It was a nice apartment, and, up until last week, it hadn’t cost me a thing to live here.
“Thanks. I like it, too,” I said, standing up and taking three strides to get from living-sewing to dining-kitchen. “Coffee’s ready. Would you still like a cup?”
“Sure. That’d be great.”
I opened the cupboard and took out two coffee mugs. “You said cream and sugar?”
“No. Just cream. If you’ve got it. Otherwise black is fine.”
“No problem,” I assured him as I opened the refrigerator door, “I just bought some yesterday, and—oh no!” I cried and then turned my face to the ceiling again. “I suppose you think this is funny!” I called out, my voice cracking.
Concern creased the plumber’s brow, and he stepped up behind me, gingerly.
“Lady, you okay? What is it? Oh jeez. That’s a shame,” he said as he peered into the open refrigerator. “All your food is spoiled. The leak must have shorted out the power to your fridge. Well, at least you still got power everywhere else. But it don’t smell too good, that’s for sure.”
“No,” I echoed softly, “it sure don’t.”
“Hey, lady. Cheer up. It’s not that bad. You’re not going to cry or anything are you?” I shook my head silently. The plumber looked relieved.
“Oh, you know Tommy?” the plumber asked brightly. “Yeah, wasn’t that something? First time he ever bought a lottery ticket, and it turns out to be a winner. You know, I said to him…” He stopped and looked at me. “Oh. Sorry. Yeah, you’ve had a run of bad luck, that’s for sure.”
I nodded grimly. “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”
He grinned. “Is that one of those Texas sayings? My cousin’s wife is from there, and she’s always saying stuff like that. Like when Tommy won the lottery, she said he was so lucky he could sit on a fence and the birds would feed him .” He laughed.
“Of course, it wasn’t true. Tommy was real sick with Lyme disease year before last, and then, when he finally got well, a guy ran into him and totaled his truck. The insurance company didn’t want to pay but half of what it was worth. That’s why Tommy decided he wanted to go to law school, so I was real happy for him when he won that money, you know? He was due.”
I bit my lip and decided not to comment.
“What it all comes down to,” I continued, “is that, as of last week, I had to start paying rent on a shop I’ve spent twenty thousand dollars fixing up but has yet to make its first dollar or welcome its first customer.”
“Well,” the plumber observed, “at least you’ve been able to live rent free for six months. That’s worth something. And it’s a nice place you’ve got here. Small. But nice.”
I looked around at the apartment and sighed. “Small” was the word, all right—just one bedroom and bath with a tiny closet, and this room, the living-sewing-dining-kitchen area. But it had a real wood-burning fireplace, which I’d always wanted but never had, exposed brick walls, the perfect backdrop to display my favorite quilts, and two tall windows that let in plenty of sunlight and looked out onto the cobbled courtyard. There was just enough room for everything I needed: my sofa, the easy chair with my standing quilt hoop, a scarred oak table and four chairs I’d found in one of the antique stores, and, most importantly, my sewing machine and cutting table, tucked neatly into a well-lit corner. He was right. It was a nice apartment, and, up until last week, it hadn’t cost me a thing to live here.
“Thanks. I like it, too,” I said, standing up and taking three strides to get from living-sewing to dining-kitchen. “Coffee’s ready. Would you still like a cup?”
“Sure. That’d be great.”
I opened the cupboard and took out two coffee mugs. “You said cream and sugar?”
“No. Just cream. If you’ve got it. Otherwise black is fine.”
“No problem,” I assured him as I opened the refrigerator door, “I just bought some yesterday, and—oh no!” I cried and then turned my face to the ceiling again. “I suppose you think this is funny!” I called out, my voice cracking.
Concern creased the plumber’s brow, and he stepped up behind me, gingerly.
“Lady, you okay? What is it? Oh jeez. That’s a shame,” he said as he peered into the open refrigerator. “All your food is spoiled. The leak must have shorted out the power to your fridge. Well, at least you still got power everywhere else. But it don’t smell too good, that’s for sure.”
“No,” I echoed softly, “it sure don’t.”
“Hey, lady. Cheer up. It’s not that bad. You’re not going to cry or anything are you?” I shook my head silently. The plumber looked relieved.
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