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Metamorphosis
Walking into the kitchen the next morning, Tad saw Spider sitting at the small round table, a plate of eggs in front of him and a cup of coffee sitting nearby. Holding up his hand, Tad grunted at his brother,
“Don’t ask.”
Spider grinned. “What? Another successful applicant?”
With his head shaking, Tad busied himself at the stove making some toast and an egg while Spider, between bites and sips, scrolled through his phone. When Tad had completed his breakfast preparations, he grabbed his own cup of coffee then sat down at the table.
“Let me guess. Another woman?”
“Seriously, Spider. What part of ‘don’t ask’ don’t you get?”
Spider leaned forward on his elbows, “Remember all those times you pestered me for one thing or another? Paybacks are hell, little brother. Besides, since I”ve always been the responsible one, I want to make sure everything’s squared up before I move out.”
“At this rate, nothing will be set squared up.”
Spider took a sip of his coffee. “Tell me about the latest fiasco.”
Tad nodded and took a deep breath. “The applicant was a bodybuilder by the name of Franco who wanted to turn the living room into his own private weight room complete with a spotter, aka, me.”
Spider’s eyes twinkled as he cleared his throat. “No kidding! But don’t get upset. You’d make a great spotter.”
Tad glared at his brother as he shoveled a forkful of egg into his mouth.
“Besides that, what made this applicant so bad?”
Tad set down his fork. “I wasn’t in my office when he came looking for me, but Trixie was. And that idiot thought she was me and she couldn’t take her eyes off him and he kept ogling her and Trixie never told him that he was talking to the wrong person.”
Guffawing, Spider set down his coffee mug. “So, the shoe was on the other foot, huh?”
“Even she didn’t like that guy. But I told her we were now even.”
“What’d Trixie say to that?”
Tad looked up from his plate of food and rolled his eyes. “She said, and I quote, ‘Not even close.’”
Spider roared again while a glaring Tad put his half eaten egg on his toast, folded the bread over and stuffed the entire thing into his mouth.
Later that morning, Tad reviewed the messages he had received in response to his ad. With a weary sigh, he sent a reply message to an applicant that he again thought had potential.
“I don’t even know why I bother. This guy will probably turn out to be the Grim Reaper.”
As with the other applicants, Tad scheduled the meeting in his office at seven o’clock. He made sure he was behind his desk and ready ten minutes before the hour so he wouldn’t get caught off guard. As he monitored the front door, he saw a young man enter the premises, stop at the front counter then turn and head towards Tad’s office.
“He’s not a woman and he certainly isn’t a bodybuilder,” assessed Tad. “So far, so good.”
As the man approached, Tad stood up. Hesitating, the young man stopped at the doorway.
“Are you Tad Webster?” he asked.
Tad nodded and offered his hand. “Yes.”
“I’m Brett Ford.”
Brett appeared to be in his early twenties. He wore baggy, ragged jeans and an old Army sweatshirt. His reddish hair was uncombed and a scant smattering of whiskers covered his chin and upper lip region. On his feet were a pair of worn tennis shoes, their laces dragging on the tiled floor of the Community Center.
Tad motioned the young man into his office, offered him the chair, then reclaimed his own seat.
“So, tell me about yourself, Brett.” Tad picked up a rubber band and began twisting it around his fingers.
“Well, let’s see. I’m working on my GED and…”
“You’re working on your GED? How old are you?”
“24”
Tad ever so slightly rolled his eyes. “Of course. Go on.”
“Well, I need a place to live.”
“Where are you living now?”
Brett wrinkled his nose. “I’m living in my parents’ basement and I just have to get out. They’re threatening to take away all my games just because I don’t want to get my stupid GED. Plus, they think I should get some kind of a job.”
“You don’t have a job?”
Brett shook his head. “No. Most jobs are a waste of time. Besides, if I had to work everyday, how would I have time to play my games?”
“Let me get this straight: by playing games, do you mean video games, like xbox or something?”
Brett stared at Tad in disbelief. “Yeah, what else would I mean?”
Tad shrugged. “I guess I’ve never met a gamer before.”
Brett continued. “I have a huge network of players and we meet every night.”
“Here in Sleepyside? I’ve never heard of those meetings.” Leaning forward, Tad placed his elbows on his desk.
Brett rolled his eyes. “Of course not. We meet in chat rooms and lay out our strategy for our games. You’re not very high-tech, are you?”
Tad’s upper lip curled slightly in disgust. “So, Brett, if you don’t have a job, how are you able to pay the rent?”
“My mom will write you a check. That’s how desperate she is to get me out on my own.”
“I can see that. But there’s more to sharing an apartment than just paying rent. There’s cooking and cleaning and….” Tad stopped abruptly “And these are the exact same things my brother told me over and over.”
Brett waved his hand through the air. “Don’t worry about any of that stuff. All I eat are Froot Loops and beef jerky so I won’t be messing up the kitchen. And I can get my mom to do my laundry. I bet she’d even clean the place if I asked her. I could beg real hard. She usually gives in when I beg.”
“So, let me get this straight.” Tad shifted in his chair. “You want to share my apartment but plan to do nothing but play video games. You won’t be cooking anything and you’ll have your mom do your laundry. Is that right?”
Brett nodded then stretched out and propped his dirty sneakers on the edge of the desk. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You won’t care if I play all night, will you?”
“Actually, I usually work in the mornings so….”
“See, that’s perfect. When you get up, I’ll be getting ready to go to bed. We’ll never even see each other or get in each other’s way”
Tad leaned back and stacked his hands on the top of his head. “You know, Brett, I have a few more people to talk to. Can I get back to you?”
Brett stood up and shoved his hands into the front pockest of his jeans. “Sure. You can leave a message with my mom.”
“Of course I can,” muttered Tad.
“Well,” Brett shuffled toward the door. “I guess I’ll see you or something.” Then he turned and disappeared through the front door of the Community Center.
Tad dropped heavily into his chair then laid his head on his desk. “Three up, three down. At this rate I’ll be an old man by the time I find a roommate.”
Short phone conversations with other applicants proved to be futile. Then, for the next two weeks, Tad anxiously checked his messages to see if there were any other potential applicants. But the roommate pool seemed to have dried up. Back at the apartment, Spider had almost completed his packing for his move. His bedroom, as well as his closet, stood bare and empty. And even though it had seen better days, Spider wanted the sagging recliner that sat in the living room. Tad countered that request for two reasons: he wanted the comfortable chair for himself and he also wanted it because it reminded him so keenly of his brother. The two went back and forth until Spider pointed out that he might need a comfortable chair if he ended up having to sit up all night with a cranky baby. Tad, not having a good argument to that, gave in and let Spider have the chair.
“Have you gotten any more inquiries about this place?” asked Spider as the two sat in front of a large kitchen cabinet sorting out pots and pans and other miscellaneous cookware.
Tad shook his head. “I haven’t even seen anybody check out my ad. Maybe I should put something on Craigslist.”
Spider paused. “You know, Tad, that can be a risky thing to do.”
“I know. And Trixie would hand me my head on a platter if I did that. Especially after all the grief everybody’s given her about safety. You’re going to be gone in a few days and this place, the utilities, the whole enchilada will be my responsibility.”
“I suppose I could stay here another month,” said Spider slowly.
“No. You’ve been taking care of me since Mom and Dad died, but now there’s somebody else who really needs you.”
Spider frowned. “I think Tracy’s a very independent, capable woman. She’s done quite well on her own.”
“I meant the baby!” Tad tossed an old, dented saucepan toward Spider, who caught it and threw it back.
“Keep the pan. Tracy has much nicer cookware than we do.”
“Then why are we sitting here on the floor dividing it up?”
Spider shrugged. “She doesn’t have everything. Besides, I do some of my best cooking with these pots and pans.”
Tad snorted. “Best cooking? You mean tacos and fajitas, don’t you?”
“I don’t recall you complaining too much about the food I put on the table.”
“Hey, I never look a gift horse in its mouth, especially where food is concerned.”
“Seriously, Tad, do you want me to stay?”
“No. I want you and Tracy to start your life together and give me an adorable niece or nephew that I can spoil so badly that you’ll be begging me to take the little tyke off your hands so you can have a few moments of peace and quiet.”
Spider hung his head. “And after all I’ve done for you. This is how you’re going to thank me? By spoiling my kid rotten?”
Tad grinned. “Yep!”
“Good. Let’s finish up the kitchen and go to Wimpy’s. I’m starving for a good hamburger. Besides, tomorrow’s moving day so we need to carb up tonight.”
“Excellent idea!”
After the two had finished sorting through the kitchen cabinets, plus the gadget drawer, Spider packed up the items he wanted then stacked the boxes by the door. With a loud beckoning whistle to Tad, he opened the door and the two took off into the fading light of the day.
**********
Leaning back in his office chair, Mart stretched his arms overhead, yawned, then rubbed his eyes. “I’m beat,” he said aloud. “I can’t wait to go home, eat dinner, take a nice long hot shower then crawl into bed.”
After logging off the company computer, Mart shut out the lights and locked up his small office. Outside, under the glare of the security lights, he secured the gate to the outdoor nursery, then climbed into his car to go home. As he was pulling out of the parking lot, his cell phone vibrated in his back pocket.
“Hello, Imogene,” he said when the name of his business partner appeared on the caller ID.
“Mart, are you by chance with your sister?”
“No. I’m just leaving the garden center. Why?”
“I’ve been trying to reach her but her phone keeps going to voicemail. She’s probably at the Community Center with Tad.” Imogene paused briefly. “Now that I think about it, I think she said they were going to work out together tonight.”
“Do you need her? Is anything wrong?”
“No. It’s just the security company serviced our system this evening and suggested I change the code. I wanted to give Trixie the new one so she didn’t set off any alarms in the morning.”
“Why don’t you just text it to her?”
Imogene sighed. “I don’t like putting that kind of information in a text. Say, if I give it to you, can you track down your sister and relay the message?”
“Sure. I go past the Community Center on my way home anyway. I’ll just pop in, find Trixie then head home.”
“Thank you, Mart.”
Imogene provided the new security code then rang off. Mart, muttering under his breath, tossed his phone onto the seat next to him. “Just one small detour then I can get home.” He steered his car into the crowded parking lot of the Community Center, hopped out and went inside. After stopping briefly at the front desk to verify Trixie’s whereabouts, Mart made his way past the various rooms that were abuzz with activity and people until he located his sister.
“Psst, Trixie,” whispered Mart from the open doorway of the room Trixie and Tad were in.
“Huh?” Trixie, holding an inverted yoga pose, looked up at her brother in annoyance. “What do you want?”
“I have a message for you from Imogene.”
Trixie quickly excused herself from the class and followed Mart into the hallway. After a brief discussion, she returned and Mart wound his way back through the center, stopping occasionally to peek into an activity session or to check out the workout equipment. As he passed by the front desk, he nodded to the young woman then paused briefly to study the various postings on the bulletin board.
As Mart was getting into his car for a second time that evening, his phone rang again.
“Hi, Moms,” he said, seeing her name on the caller ID.
“Mart, where are you? I was beginning to worry. I thought you’d be home half an hour ago. ”
“I needed to run an errand for Imogene.”
“An errand for Imogene? But, honey, you work such long hours as it is. I don’t want to see you getting run down.”
“Moms….” Mart started to explain but his mother cut him off.
“I just want you to know your dinner is plated and in the oven.”
“Thanks, Moms.”
“By the way, your father wants you to help Bobby with his math homework tonight. He tried to work with him last night but couldn’t make any sense of it.” She paused and Mart heard her open the refrigerator door. “Oh, dear. I forgot to get milk today. Could you pick up a gallon? I think Lytell’s will still be open if you hurry.”
“Okay.” Mart sighed. “But I have some paperwork to get through tonight so I won’t be able to spend a lot of time with Bobby.”
“If you help Bobby right when you get home, then the rest of the night will be yours. How does that sound?”
Mart exhaled loudly. “Okay.”
“And don’t forget the milk.”
“Right.”
Mart clicked off the call and turned down the dark road that led to the general store. After apologizing to a cranky Mr. Lytell for the late night stop, Mart drove home. Pulling into the long driveway of Crabapple Farm, he hopped out and checked the mailbox.
“Empty as usual. I should have known somebody else would have gotten the mail,” he muttered as he got back into the car and drove to his space next to the garage.
In the warm, homey kitchen, Mart retrieved his plate of food from the oven then sat down at the kitchen table. He had barely taken a few bites when Bobby, his short blond curls in complete disarray, bounded into the room.
“You ready to help me?” he asked.
Mart swallowed his food. “I thought I’d eat my dinner first. Is that all right with you?”
Bobby dropped his math book on the table. “Look, Mart, I’ve got a lot of other homework to do. I prefer I’d get this out of the way. Do you mind?”
“Does it matter?” muttered Mart. Then, with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, Mart shoved his plate aside and motioned Bobby to sit down. For the next 45 minutes, the two worked through the algebra assignment. When they were done, Bobby grabbed the book and bolted from the room.
“You’re welcome,” growled Mart as he reached for his plate of food that was now cold.
After dinner, Mart retreated to his room. He logged onto his computer and reviewed the transactions that had occurred that day at the garden center and updated his orders for supplies and merchandise. With that task complete, Mart shut down his computer and headed to the bathroom for a hot shower, But before he could reach the doorway, Bobby darted into the room ahead of him.
“Hey, I was going to take a shower. I need to get to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” Mart tried to grab his brother and yank him out of his way.
“Too late!” Bobby slammed the door and clicked the lock. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow too.”
“I thought you had other homework,” yelled Mart through the door.
“I do. Gonna finish it after my shower.”
Mart heard the pipes clank when Bobby turned on the shower. With one last feeble slap against the door, he wandered back into his room and stretched out on his bed. Within a few minutes, he was asleep, the day’s dirt still caked under his fingernails and his work clothes still on his body.
The next morning, Mart was up bright and early. He took a shower, grabbed a quick breakfast, then was out the door. As he was driving through Sleepyside, he made a sudden turn and headed for the Community Center. With a quiet swoosh, the front doors slid open and Mart entered the facility. Tad’s office was dark as were many of the other areas but the workout rooms were abuzz with activity as the early morning workouts were in full force. Ignoring the pulsing music, Mart lingered in the lobby just long enough to grab some information off the bulletin board then he jogged back to his car and went on to work.
**********
When Tad arrived at the Community Center that morning, he found he had several tasks that needed his attention. When he finally sat down at his desk, his stomach was rumbling. He grabbed an energy bar from the small cafe then returned to his desk where he booted up his computer. He quickly scanned through his email, frowning when he noted that again he had no replies to his ad. Spider had already moved out and Tad had had to pay the full rent for the next month. He knew the utilities would be due the second week and the amount in his checking account was shrinking faster than he was accustomed to.
“How hard can it be to find a roommate?” he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.
“Hey, Tad,” another manager popped his head into Tad’s office.
“Yeah?”
“You’re needed in the conference room, something about the little league teams this spring.”
“Right!” Tad jumped up and tore out of his office, temporarily forgetting his increasingly urgent situation to find a roommate.
By the end of the day, Tad hurried from the Community Center , eager to get to Trixie where he could finally relax. Settling on her couch, he laid his head back against the soft quilt that hung on the back of Trixie’s couch and sighed loudly.
“What was that for?” demanded Trixie
Tad shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Oh, so now you can see inside my head?” argued Tad.
Trixie nodded. “Yes and I know something’s really bugging you. Now what is it?”
Tad inhaled. “I’m just sitting here looking around your place and it all looks so, I don’t know, homey and cozy.”
“And that has you in a funk?”
Shrugging, Tad stacked his feet on the ottoman and stretched out.
“Come on.” Trixie pulled Tad up and into the kitchen where she began slathering pieces of bread with butter before dropping them into a hot skillet. She added several pieces of cheese to the bread, some mustard, a few pickles then added the remaining bread slices.
“Now, continue with your funky mood explanation.”
Tad paced the small kitchen, pointing out observations as he passed them.
“Look at your collection of tools and gadgets. And you have that old copper bowl hanging on the wall. Then in the living room, you have the furniture that we refinished together. Then you have this wall full of pictures of your friends and family.”
“And is that good or bad?” asked Trixie as she ladled out bowls of creamy tomato soup.
Tad carried the bowls to the table while Trixie brought in their grilled cheese sandwiches.
“It’s good.” He plopped down in his chair.
“And that has you all bummed out?”
“It’s just….” Tad looked past Trixie’s small dining room to her living room.
“It’s just what?”
“Your place. It’s so you. It’s inviting and warm and says ‘Trixie’ as soon as you walk in the door.”
“And?” Trixie put a spoonful of hot soup in her mouth.
“And my place is so…”
“So…”?
“Empty. I’ve never been there without Spider. All his stuff is gone and it feels so empty.”
Trixie took Tad’s hand. “I know Spider’s always been there for you. But maybe you should think of this as a chance to see what you like.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Do what makes you happy?”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Look,” Trixie set down her spoon. “When I moved here I was so excited to finally be on my own. I could leave it a mess or not, eat whatever I wanted and when and surround myself with whatever pleased me. It took me a few weeks to start figuring some things out.”
“Like what?” Tad slurped at his soup.
“Like, I really do like my place to be relatively clean. And, I can make a quick dinner that doesn’t require me to spend all day in the kitchen. And frozen pizzas aren’t a bad option either.”
Finishing his sandwich, Tad’s eyes never left Trixie’s.
Swallowing a spoonful of soup, Trixie continued, “After a few weeks, I started to figure out what I wanted my place to look like and feel like. I love it that I can sit on my couch and see all the pictures of the people who are so important to me. I love that I have a cutting board that Moms used to use. And in my bathroom, I have the old cup that we kept our toothbrushes in when I was little. Those things make me happy when I look at them and they make my apartment feel like home.”
Tad scraped his soup bowl clean. “Okay, I see that.”
“So now, you get to figure those things out for yourself.” Trixie squirmed in her chair. “I know what we can do. Let’s get copies of the family pictures that Spider took then we’ll get some frames and create your own memory wall.”
“Is that what it’s called?”
Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know. That just came to my mind and I thought it sounded good. And, we can move you into Spider’s old room. It’s bigger and has its own bathroom. We can even paint it this weekend.”
Shaking his head, Tad sighed and took another bite of his sandwich. “That sounds pricey and I’ve got to be careful since I don’t have a roommate.”
“Oh, pooh. We’re not going to spend a million dollars. Besides, a little bit of paint and a new bedspread and some pillows won’t cost a lot. Maybe you could even get a neat picture or something to hang over the bed.” Trixie’s eyes gleamed as she envisioned the new room.
“Whoa!! You’re going to do all that in one weekend?”
Trixie nodded. “Why not? Spider’s got some new digs. You should too.”
“New digs? Memory wall?” Tad raised his eyebrows at Trixie. “Nice lingo!”
“I think so. ” Trixie shoved her plate aside. “I know we can get this all done in one weekend.”
Tad winced slightly. “I’m not sure.”
“Of course we can. We’re a team.” She stopped suddenly. “Ooh, wait a minute.” Grabbing her phone, she tapped several times, then held it out to him. “Look at this. It’s a collection of all the major league baseball stadiums in the country. Wouldn’t it be fun to make your own collection?”
Tad studied the image as if picturing where such a collection could go in the now bare apartment.
“Yeah, I like that.”
“This will be fun. I see what I can dig up at the antique shop and you can keep working on that roommate thing.” Trixie finished her soup, then bit into her sandwich. “But I think I should warn you; I’m a terrible painter so I may end up supervising a lot.”
Tad rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“Tad, my vision has to count for something. Consider it my contribution to the project.”
Tad nodded. “Okay. And I swear, no matter what, the next applicant gets the job of roommate. I can’t stand this uncertainty.”
“Unless it’s Tawny,” giggled Trixie.
“Or Franco,” grinned Tad.
**********
Later the next afternoon, Tad was logging off his computer and preparing to leave for the day when he heard a tapping at his office door.
“Oh. Hi, Mart,” said Tad as he looked up from behind his desk.
“You got a minute?” Mart stepped into the small office.
Tad glanced at his watch. “Yeah. Trixie’s picking up dinner from The Hideaway. She won’t be looking for me yet.”
“Ah, something from The Hideaway.” Mart’s eyes took on a glazed look. “Imogene certainly did a wonderful service when she installed that eating establishment adjacent to the antique shop.”
“She certainly did. And hiring Ian as the chef really put that place at the top of the list. It definitely has good food.”
“I concur. On what will you be dining on this evening?”
“BLTs. Ian’s are the best. Trixie swears he puts an entire pound of bacon on each sandwich.”
Mart licked his lips. “I concur. For once, I think my female sibling’s assessment is accurate.”
“Mart, you didn’t stop in to talk about food. Or did you?”
Mart shook his head. “No. I wanted to discuss something else with you.”
Tad nodded his head toward the empty chair across from him. Mart sat down.
“Yes…” prodded Tad.
“See, it’s like this. I’m interested in rationing out your monthly obligations such as rent and utilities.”
Tad’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?””
Mart rolled his eyes. “I’m interested in sharing your apartment.”
“You want to be my roommate?”
“Yeah. I’m earning good money and I’m tired of going home to the farm where I still feel like I’m 14. If I’m late, Moms worry. If I have a day off, she lines up chores for me. I lived on my own when I was teaching and I miss that independence. And now I’m finally in a position where I can afford to move out of Crabapple Farm and still contribute to my half of the business.”
Tad sat silently and stared at Mart.
“Tad? You okay?” Mart waved his hand across Tad’s face.
“Uh, yeah. It’s just I never expected you to be one of the applicants. A serial killer, yes. But a normal, working guy….no.”
Mart’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tad raked his hands through his dark hair. “Nothing.”
“So...what do you think?”
Tad stood up and slid his hands into his pockets. He paced back and forth in the small office. “It has potential. We get along. We both like baseball. And my girlfriend won’t have to run some kind of thorough background check on you. It’s just, there might be a small problem.”
Mart nodded. “The problem is the aforementioned girlfriend.”
Tad nodded. “I think I’d want to run this by her first. You understand, right?”
After chatting for a few minutes more, Mart stood to leave. “Why don’t you two discuss it tonight and let me know.”
“We’ll do that. Thanks for stopping by.”
“See ya later.” Mart exited the Community Center while Tad snagged his coat from the back of his chair.
“Well, Trixie,” Tad said to himself as he tidied his desk.,“You told me to resolve the roommate thing and I just may have well done that. But I bet this isn’t what you had in mind.”
Turning out his light, Tad left the Community Center, humming a slight tune under his breath and smiling ever so slightly as he crossed the crowded parking lot.
Arriving at Trixie’s apartment before she did, Tad let himself in, went to the kitchen and gathered the plates and silverware then set the table. He poured Trixie a shimmering glass of wine then opened a beer for himself. After settling on the couch, he turned on the tv and was soon lost in the recap of the day’s sports’ news. When Trixie arrived fifteen minutes later, he jumped up and grabbed the bag from her hands.
“I’ll take that. I’ve got the table all ready.”
“Thanks.” Trixie shrugged out of her jacket and hung it in the closet then disappeared into her room. When she came out a few minutes later, she had changed into a comfortable pair of slouchy drawstring pants and an old t-shirt. “The Hideaway’s BLT’s are a perfect end to a long day. Hey!” she spotted the glass of wine by her plate. “What's the occasion?”
“I talked with another applicant today,” replied Tad. He and Trixie sat down and the two dug into the thick sandwiches.
“Consider taking him, whoever he is,” ordered Trixie. “He might not be perfect, but who cares? You hang out here most of the time anyway.” Trixie took another large bite from her sandwich.
Tad went into the kitchen and returned with a big bag of potato chips. “I thought you might want some input regarding this new applicant.”
Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “Input? Regarding this new applicant? You sound like Mart.”
Tad offered a weak smile. “Funny you should say that.”
“Say what?” Trixie grabbed a handful of chips and put them on her plate.
“That I sound like Mart.”
“Why is that funny?”
“Because he stopped in to see me today.”
Trixie, a big bite of food in her mouth, finished chewing before asking,
“He stopped in to see you? Why?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Tad, his brows raised, grinned at his girlfriend.
“Wait! No!”
Tad nodded. “Yes. He’s interested in sharing the apartment with me.”
“You mean my brother, Mart, the one with the ridiculous vocabulary and equally ridiculous obsession with food wants to live with you?”
Tad nodded.
“No!”
“Yes,” replied Tad.
“No!” echoed Trixie.
“Yes.”
“What’d you say?”
“I told him I needed to discuss it with you.”
“I see.” Trixie shoved a potato chip into her mouth, then took a generous gulp or two of her wine.
“So?”
Trixie carefully set her wine glass on the table. “The way I see this is that it has some issues. For example, it’s Mart. He’s my brother and he can be annoying. Another thing, I don’t want to hang around with him when I’m at your place. And when I’m at your place, I don’t want my brother giving you or me the evil eye because he thinks we shouldn’t be messing around. On the other hand, I do know everything about him and will be able to sleep at night knowing you’re not rooming with a homicidal maniac who might want to chop you into little pieces and store you in the freezer.”
Tad sputtered as he took a long draw from his beer. “You worry about that?”
“No, at least not often.” Trixie grinned. “I really need to think about this. Also, if he does room with you, then we need to set out some ground rules and get some things straight before he moves in.” She paused. “I wonder why he wants to room with you?”
“He says he’s tired of feeling like a teenager when he goes home to Crabapple Farm. He said something about chores and worried phone calls from your mom.”
Trixie nodded. “I do understand that and can see why he’d want to get out.”
“And he says he’s now in a financial position to be able to move out.”
“Gleeps! I guess that’s what we get for Mart being so successful.”
Tad relaxed. “So, you’re okay with him moving in?”
“Let’s all get together with him tomorrow and see what we can work out.”
“I think that’s a good idea. But, to be honest, I’m surprised you weren’t more upset.”
Trixie wrinkled her nose. “Let me put it this way. He’s not Tawny or Franco. Two things in his favor! And I know more about him than I could ever want to.”
“True.” Tad held out his beer bottle and Trixie tapped it with her wine glass.
Trixie took a sip then set her glass down. “You know, this might work. We are at my place a lot plus Mart works really long hours. And, he likes to spend time with Diana. He could turn out to be the perfect roommate in that he pays half the expenses but is rarely around.”
Tad laughed. “Way to put a positive spin on the situation.”
“I’ve had a lifetime of putting a positive spin on anything connected to Mart,” giggled Trixie.
After a delicious dinner followed by an evening snuggled in front of the tv, Tad returned to the lonely apartment, hoping that things would work out all right and still wishing he’d find Spider sitting in the comfortable recliner, watching the television through closed eyelids.
The next morning, Mart popped into Ingram’s Antiques on his way to his own shop.
“I got a message from Tad saying he wants us all to get together tonight,” he said as he leaned against the old, wooden front counter where Trixie sat and worked.
Trixie, her eyes focused on the computer in front of her, nodded. “Yep.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she entered several items into the inventory.
“So you’re okay with me living with Tad?” Mart nervously fiddled with a pile of old greeting cards that were in a nearby basket.
“Depends on your answers tonight.” Trixie’s eyes flickered upward.
Holding up his hands, Mart backed away. “Okay. I get it. You’re not thrilled with this prospect. Why don’t I grab some burgers from Wimpy’s and we can talk over dinner.”
“Sounds good to me. Throw in an extra large order of onion rings and you’ll be off to a good start.”
“Consider your reasonable yet delectable request honored.” Mart bowed slightly, then turned and exited the shop, the bell over the door tinkling behind him.
Trixie sighed. “But the overuse of big words just cost you a point or two, almost twin.”
Hopping off her stool, Trixie sent a quick text to Tad informing him of Mart’s dinner offer then got to work around the shop. Periodically, she rushed to the front counter where she wrote down questions and issues that she wanted discussed that evening. By the end of the day, her paper was filled while new issues continued to crop up in her mind.
When Trixie arrived at Tad’s apartment that evening, she found him setting plates on the kitchen table.
“Hey, this place looks pretty clean,” she remarked.
Tad added napkins at the sides of the plates. “I did come home and tidy it up a bit. No point in scaring off Mart before we even have any discussion.”
Trixie snorted. “Have you seen what lurks beneath his bed at home?”
Tad, his hands on his hips, replied. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen what’s under Mart’s bed or anything else in his room. In fact, I don't think I’ve ever seen his room.”
“People say I’m a pack rat. But let me tell you; he has every spelling test he’s ever taken in his entire life. When he was a kid, he’d always want his perfect spelling test placed right in the center of the refrigerator. But then he’d start to get nervous if he thought Moms was going to throw it away while he was at school. I swear, one time, she moved it a little bit and he jumped out of his chair, grabbed it and hid it under his bed.” Trixie tossed her curls back. “Trust me! I never had such worries.”
Tad’s face took on an odd look.
“What’s wrong?” asked Trixie quickly.
Tad grimaced. “I used to make Spider put all the write-ups of my baseball games on the refrigerator.”
Trixie’s mouth fell open. “You and Mart! It’s a match made in Heaven!”
Before she could start laughing, Tad grabbed her and kissed her.”
A pounding of Tad’s door interrupted the two. Untangling themselves from each other, Tad went to the door while Trixie retrieved glasses from the cupboard. Mart came in and deposited a large sack onto the table.
“Dinner is ready for your consumption!” he declared dramatically.
Ignoring the groans from Tad and Trixie, Mart unpacked several boxes, then tossed the bag onto the kitchen counter. Tad got their drinks, plus a collection of condiments while Trixie gathered napkins and silverware.
Before sitting down, Trixie grabbed her lengthy list then joined Tad and Mart. Sniffing appreciatively at the aromas that were rising from their meals, they enthusiastically dug into their favorite burgers.
“So,” began Mart. “Let’s get down to business. Is my request a ‘yay’ or a ‘nay?’”
“We need to clarify some things and lay out a few ground rules,” answered Tad.
“Yeah,” echoed Trixie as she smoothed out her list with the sides of her hands.
Mart frowned at his sister. “A lengthy enumeration? Really?” Then he took another bite of his hot, juicy sandwich. “Proceed.”
Tad swallowed his onion ring. “Well, first Trixie and I are ...um….um...”
Mart swallowed. “If you’re going to tell me that you two are dating or going steady or whatever it is, I already know it.”
“And you’re going to have to respect that,” demanded Trixie.
“I do!” protested Mart.
“Really?” argued his sister.
“Yes,” answered Mart wearily. He laid down his hamburger. “Look, I was surprised when you and Tad started dating. And I’ll admit, at first I was a bit sceptical. But now, I see how well you two fit together.”
“So you won’t be giving Tad any grief about us?”
“Nope.” Mart picked up a french fry and dragged it through the puddle of ketchup on his plate.
“And you won’t throw a fit if I spend a lot of time here or he spends a lot of time at my place?” continued Trixie.
“Hey, timeout!” interrupted Tad, making the traditional signal with his hands. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking the questions?”
“Carry on.” Trixie grabbed another onion ring and stuffed it into her mouth.
“Mart, I think what Trixie is trying to say is that sometimes she’ll be here...all night. Or I’ll be at her place all night.”
Mart met two sets of questioning eyes and shrugged. “I would certainly expect that consensual activities are a significant part of the relationship.”
Tad and Trixie looked at each other. “What’d he say?” Trixie whispered.
Tad leaned over to her. “He’s okay with whatever we do.”
“Hey! I didn’t say that but…” Shrugging, Mart took another bite of his sandwich.
“And sometimes, we like to eat together alone, just the two of us. But at other times, we may ask you to join us,” said Tad.
“That sounds reasonable .”
“And you’ll be expected to contribute to half the household, both financially as well as physically, you know, as in cooking and cleaning.”
“Okay.”
Tad looked at Trixie. “Am I forgetting anything?”
“Yes.” She pointed her finger at Mart. “No big, obnoxious words.”
Mart bowed his head. “Ah, younger sibling, you are actually requesting that I leave an important and unique part of my personality back at the family homestead.”
Trixie glared. “Yeah, stuff like that.”
Mart placed his hand over his heart. “Alas, I can’t fathom myself doing that.”
“Try!” demanded Trixie. “Try really hard.”
“Hey!” interrupted Tad. “Who's asking the questions here?”
Scowling at Tad, Trixie took a bite of an onion ring and was going to say more but was interrupted by Mart’s throat clearing.
“If my younger and less eloquent sibling is through, I have a few conditions too.”
“Let's hear them,” replied Tad.
“I just might want to spend an evening with a certain dark haired beauty. If that’s the case, are you willing to spend time at Trixie’s?”
“Do you really need to ask?” deadpanned Tad.
“And a towel on my bedroom door knob means….” continued Mart.
“Mart!” yelled Trixie. “Just stop it! We get your point.”
Mart held up his hands. “We’ve got to put it all out there, no pun intended.” He paused and, stroking his chin, looked up at the ceiling. “Or maybe it was.”
Beside him, Trixie wrinkled her nose. “We agree that we all have a right to expect some privacy in our personal lives. Done!”
After 45 minutes of back and forth haggling, punctuated by loud sighs and eye rolling from Trixie, Mart looked at Tad. “So, we’re good?”
Tad nodded. “I think so. Trixie?”
“Let’s see. No big words, no snide remarks, no put-downs, no stealing Tad’s food, no stealing my food.” She slapped at Mart’s hand that inched toward one of Trixie’s onion rings.
“Anything else?” Mart’s annoyed sigh reverberated through the room.
“I think that’s it,” replied Trixie after studying her list.
“Okay.” Tad pounded the table with his fist. “So it’s decided that Mart will be my new roommate. When do you want to move in?”
Mart pulled out his phone and checked his schedule. “I can move in Sunday.”
“Perfect. We’re painting Spider’s old room Saturday.” Tad licked his fingers, then picked up any remaining crumbs from his hamburger.
Mart pulled a blank check out of his wallet. “And I’m ready to write a check for the first month’s rent.”
Tad accepted the check and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “Thank you, Mart.” He shot Trixie an impish grin. “I guess I’ll have to call Tawny and tell her the apartment’s been taken.”
“Okay,” said Trixie brightly. “You call Tawny and I’ll call Franco.”
Tad looked at Trixie. “Touche, Belden.”
Trixie giggled. “Yep.” She reached across her plate and grabbed one of Tad’s onion rings and popped it in her mouth. “Yum!”
Mart attempted the same maneuver but his Tad grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “No you don’t, buddy. I only share with Trixie.”
“Yeah, Mart,” taunted Trixie.
“You’re not the boss of me, Trixie.”
Tad dropped his head into his hands and moaned softly. “What have I done? What have I done?”
“Easy,” answered Mart. “You have procured the ultimate flatmate that one could possibly possess the expectation for.”
Trixie stuffed the last of her burger into her mouth. “And for that, dear brother, you have the honor of doing the dishes.”
“Oh yeah? Why do you get to decide that?”
“Fine,” shrugged Trixie. “We’ll vote. All in favor of Mart doing the dishes, raise your hand.”
Tad and Trixie quickly raised their hands, then high-fived each other. With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Mart stood up, gathered the plates and began loading the dishwasher while Tad and Trixie wandered into the living room where they snuggled together on the couch and enjoyed the sounds of clinking dishware and running water from the kitchen.
“I guess we wrapped this little mystery up,” murmured Tad into Trixie’s ear.
Trixie sat up. “Mystery? What was the mystery”
“Who my next roommate was going to be.”
“Oh, yeah.” Trixie snuggled back down into Tad’s arms. “Now all we have to figure out is whether Spider and Tracy’s baby is a boy or a girl.”
‘I’m pretty sure that’s already been determined.”
“Yes, but what if they know and they’re not telling? I’m going to watch those two very carefully in case they let something slip.”
“You do that, Belden. And I'll just watch you.”
“Go with your strengths, Webster.”
“I always do.”
Pulling Trixie closer, the two continued to talk, their voices low and soft. Their fingers entwined while they shared anecdotes about their day.
Finally, Tad glanced over his shoulder. “You do realize that Mart’s hovering in the kitchen doorway.”
Trixie giggled. “You did a good job with the rules. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mart fall in line like this. He must really want to move out of Crabapple Farm.”
Tad called over Trixie’s head. “It’s all right. You can come in, Mart.”
“Just respecting your privacy,” said Mart as he hurried into the room and sat at the other end of the couch and looked around. “You don’t have a lot of furniture in here. You really could use another chair, say a nice massaging recliner. Mine will look great against that wall.”
“Massaging recliner?” Tad sat up straight, causing Trixie to fall over in a heap.
Mart nodded.
“All right!” Tad clicked on the tv and the three, after several minutes of debate, finally agreed on a show that they all wanted to watch.
“Oh, yeah,” remarked Mart. “My chair will be a much welcome addition to the room. Sitting three on a couch is no fun.” He propped his feet on the coffee table in front of him.
“You can say that again,” muttered Trixie. “But,” she held up a warning finger, “please don’t.”
Mart nodded before quietly whispering, “But next time…”
Trixie, engrossed in the movie, either didn’t hear or pretended not to, which led to a peaceful evening for all three.
Word Count - 7653
Author’s notes: I claim no ownership of Trixie, Tad and the rest of the gang. I big thank you to my sister, Judith, for her editing and encouragement and to my DD for her final editing. Picture by me! Background by Vivian.
Froot Loops - a sweetened, fruit flavored breakfast cereal produced by Kellogg’s.
Craigslist - a classified advertisements website.