Wednesday, December 13, 2017

It's temporary

Eve and Paul leave tomorrow to visit their daughter out of state. I’m going to stay at their house to take care of their three-month-old puppy, Izzy. Eve asked me to come by for dinner tonight so Izzy could reacquaint herself with me before I suddenly show up in her world tomorrow.

I stopped at home after work to change into unsnaggable clothes, then went over. Eve answered the door with, “Thank God you’re here. You have to help me talk some sense into these men.”

Their house is two levels. Upstairs there’s a loft that overlooks the downstairs living room. The open wall of the loft is a pretty feature and allows great light to filter through the house, but it has become a safety concern now that Izzy is growing. They’re afraid their adorable little puppy may take to the air one day and sail out of the loft right down to the living room. When this first came up I sent Eve links to companies that make parachutes for dogs. Apparently, she and Paul decided to go another way.

I closed the front door behind me, gave a dancing Izzy a hello petting, and looked in the direction of Eve’s pointing finger. Paul leaned through the loft opening and said hello. Another voice, hidden by a...structure...also said hello. I returned the greetings.

“Look what Paul and Blaine have put together to keep Izzy from jumping out of the loft.” Eve said it as if she were presenting Exhibit A in their trial.

From what I could tell they had taken five slender PVC pipes, stood them on end and attached them to a section of plastic garden lattice using zip ties.

“It’s temporary, Eve.” Paul defended.

“We’re having Christmas here. We’ll have company. We cannot have that sitting there.” Still out of sight, Blaine suggested that he and Paul string Christmas lights through the lattice. “Oh, thanks BLAINE,” Eve responded. “That’ll be enough out of you.”

“I have a large wreath if you want to borrow it,” I said unhelpfully. I managed to offer a never-used red bow too before Eve hit me with “the look.” I couldn’t help myself. “Or how about some lighted snowflakes. That could be nice, look as if they’re falling…” Blaine laughed and Paul said he liked it. Eve pretended to shove me.

I did sympathize with Eve. This is exactly the sort of thing my dad and brother would have come up with. “It’s functional,” I said diplomatically. “But it’s probably better for the outdoors.”

“It isn’t going out there either.” Eve stated.

“It’s temporary, Eve,” Paul tried again. “In six months it will be gone.” I winced. That “six months” was going to cost him.

“Try six minutes.”

“We’re leaving it for the weekend. You’ll get used to it. C’mon, Blaine. Let’s have some supper.”

Blaine followed Paul down the stairs to where Eve and I were still standing. When Paul looked up and saw the plastic white barricade in all its glory, I caught the beginning of a smile form but he quickly squelched it. I suspected this was one of those ideas that had looked better to his mind’s eye but now he was defending the principle. Blaine looked at it and chuckled. He gave me a wink behind the backs of the other two as if we were in on a joke.

For dinner we had homemade Italian wedding soup. Eve served it with warm crusty, rustic bread and wine. I passed on the wine since my stomach isn’t quite back to 100 percent, but the soup and the bread hit the spot.

The company hit the spot too. I always like spending time around Eve and Paul. They’ve been married over 30 years and it’s obvious that those years have been happy ones. I get an infusion of optimism each time we get together.

Blaine has been part of their lives for most of their marriage. Eve told me that she and Blaine’s late wife had worked together early in their careers. They had become instant best friends, and then Paul and Blaine did too. Sadly, Blaine’s wife died of cancer rather quickly a number of years ago.

After dinner Eve showed me Izzy’s routine, how to work the remote for their insanely nice television, and where to find everything I might need. Izzy followed us as if she were absorbing the information too. She’s too adorable. I’m looking forward to hanging out with her through the weekend.

I’m going to try to keep up here but I’m not sure how well it will work to update using my iPad.

1 comment:

  1. My dad was like Paul. He'd come up with a crazy solution and then my mom would heave a sigh. More often than not, those crazy solutions worked!


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