John began.
“Why don’t you bring that girlfriend of yours to dinner sometime? What was her name? Kalie?” Helen passed me the basket of warm bread, keeping her eyes on my face. She could read me better than anyone.
“Kelly. And she’s not my girlfriend. We’re not seeing each other anymore. Turns out she’s more married than divorced.”
With a soft expression of pity I hated, she gave me an extra piece of eggplant. Feed the feelings was the motto in this family. “Well, she doesn’t know what she’s missing if she can’t see what a good man you are.”
My uncle broke into the conversation and spouted on about fish in the sea and baiting your hook with the right lure. This time I was pretty certain he wasn’t talking about fishing, but with him you could never tell.
“What about your neighbor? She’s a nice lady.” She didn’t let the subject of my bachelorhood drop easily.
“Maggie? She’s living in Portland with her new guy … well, old guy. He showed up last summer and they picked back up again after all that time. Meant to be I guess.” I stuffed a piece of bread in my mouth to shut myself up.
“Anyone living in her cabin?” Peter asked.
“Yep. She’s rented it out to some woman from back east. Seems like a real city girl. Didn’t know to open the flue for the wood stove.”
“Oh, dear. She could have burnt the place down. Can you imagine?” My aunt held her hand over her pink sweater covered heart at the horror.
“Good thing I was home to help her. She appears to have gotten the hang of things. Steve hooked her up with a car.”
“Sounds like you’re keeping an eye on her. Is she single?”
“Helen, enough,” my uncle chastised her. “Leave the poor man alone.”
“The ‘poor man’ being alone is exactly my concern. His folks are down in Arizona. He has us and that’s it. A person needs a family of their own. I worry. I’m allowed to worry.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m okay. I work, I have friends, stuff to do, and in case you’re worried, my health.” I patted my toned stomach, despite her best efforts to fatten me up. I might have been single, but I wasn’t letting myself go. “I like being single. Women are too much work.”
“Hard work is what life’s about, John,” Peter said. He had been a logger same as me, but spent his years in the woods working the saws and loading trucks. From him I knew what it meant to work hard and break your back doing it.
“I work hard. I’ve known hard work all my life. Nothing was ever handed to me. Taken away, yes. Handed to me on a silver platter, no.”
He nodded. “You’re one of the best workers I know. And you don’t have to tell me about loss. I’ve got the eight and half fingers to show for it.” He wiggled the remaining fingers on his left hand. Scars, missing fingers, a missing leg, and even death were hazards of working in timber.
“My wedding ring saved the rest of my finger. That says something about things being worth the hard work.”
Pretty sure that was a metaphor.
My aunt gave him a sweet smile. “We want you to be happy, honey. You deserve to be loved and happy. Have a family. Have someone to come home to every night. If it didn’t work out with Kelly, there’s someone else out there.”
I found myself deep in dangerous territory. I missed the chattering, gossiping, giggling girlfriends, wives, and cousins. This almost felt like an ambush.
Sweeping the last piece of bread through the pool of sauce on my plate bought me some time. “I think I’ve heard this speech before. I get it. You know, there are lots of men out there who are lifelong bachelors or settle down later in life. Thirty-two is not so old that you need to worry.”
“Some of those bachelors are homosexuals.”
My uncle’s words startled me and I laughed. “I’m not gay. Trust me on that one. I love tits as much as the next guy.”
“Never said you were. I’m just saying some of those bachelors are
“Why don’t you bring that girlfriend of yours to dinner sometime? What was her name? Kalie?” Helen passed me the basket of warm bread, keeping her eyes on my face. She could read me better than anyone.
“Kelly. And she’s not my girlfriend. We’re not seeing each other anymore. Turns out she’s more married than divorced.”
With a soft expression of pity I hated, she gave me an extra piece of eggplant. Feed the feelings was the motto in this family. “Well, she doesn’t know what she’s missing if she can’t see what a good man you are.”
My uncle broke into the conversation and spouted on about fish in the sea and baiting your hook with the right lure. This time I was pretty certain he wasn’t talking about fishing, but with him you could never tell.
“What about your neighbor? She’s a nice lady.” She didn’t let the subject of my bachelorhood drop easily.
“Maggie? She’s living in Portland with her new guy … well, old guy. He showed up last summer and they picked back up again after all that time. Meant to be I guess.” I stuffed a piece of bread in my mouth to shut myself up.
“Anyone living in her cabin?” Peter asked.
“Yep. She’s rented it out to some woman from back east. Seems like a real city girl. Didn’t know to open the flue for the wood stove.”
“Oh, dear. She could have burnt the place down. Can you imagine?” My aunt held her hand over her pink sweater covered heart at the horror.
“Good thing I was home to help her. She appears to have gotten the hang of things. Steve hooked her up with a car.”
“Sounds like you’re keeping an eye on her. Is she single?”
“Helen, enough,” my uncle chastised her. “Leave the poor man alone.”
“The ‘poor man’ being alone is exactly my concern. His folks are down in Arizona. He has us and that’s it. A person needs a family of their own. I worry. I’m allowed to worry.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m okay. I work, I have friends, stuff to do, and in case you’re worried, my health.” I patted my toned stomach, despite her best efforts to fatten me up. I might have been single, but I wasn’t letting myself go. “I like being single. Women are too much work.”
“Hard work is what life’s about, John,” Peter said. He had been a logger same as me, but spent his years in the woods working the saws and loading trucks. From him I knew what it meant to work hard and break your back doing it.
“I work hard. I’ve known hard work all my life. Nothing was ever handed to me. Taken away, yes. Handed to me on a silver platter, no.”
He nodded. “You’re one of the best workers I know. And you don’t have to tell me about loss. I’ve got the eight and half fingers to show for it.” He wiggled the remaining fingers on his left hand. Scars, missing fingers, a missing leg, and even death were hazards of working in timber.
“My wedding ring saved the rest of my finger. That says something about things being worth the hard work.”
Pretty sure that was a metaphor.
My aunt gave him a sweet smile. “We want you to be happy, honey. You deserve to be loved and happy. Have a family. Have someone to come home to every night. If it didn’t work out with Kelly, there’s someone else out there.”
I found myself deep in dangerous territory. I missed the chattering, gossiping, giggling girlfriends, wives, and cousins. This almost felt like an ambush.
Sweeping the last piece of bread through the pool of sauce on my plate bought me some time. “I think I’ve heard this speech before. I get it. You know, there are lots of men out there who are lifelong bachelors or settle down later in life. Thirty-two is not so old that you need to worry.”
“Some of those bachelors are homosexuals.”
My uncle’s words startled me and I laughed. “I’m not gay. Trust me on that one. I love tits as much as the next guy.”
“Never said you were. I’m just saying some of those bachelors are
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