Commune
Copyright© 2021 by Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 22
Claire was seated at the table in the community house looking irritated. She said, “My daughter and her husband want to spend Thanksgiving with me.”
“My children want to do the same thing,” Liz said. She was kind of ambivalent about the idea of spending the day with them.
“Mine, too,” Bev said rolling her eyes. She doesn’t hear from them except for phone calls on holidays and all of sudden they went to come for a visit.
“I can’t afford to put out a Thanksgiving dinner for them,” Claire said. It would be even harder if the grandchildren came as well.
“Same here,” Liz said. A turkey alone was ten dollars and that didn’t include all of the other fixings.
Feeling that she was being used by her children, Bev said, “They are going to ask that I sell my house and move in with them. Of course, they’ll expect me to turn over some of my money to them.”
“I didn’t even think of that,” Liz said wondering if her children were planning on making a similar proposition to her.
Having heard hints of financial trouble from her daughter, Claire said, “I expect my daughter to ask for a loan.”
“Where were they when we were eating noodle soup for half a month?” Liz said getting a little angry.
“They were probably dealing with their own financial problems,” Bev said, knowing that the current economy was hard on everyone. There were a few people who were doing well, but she didn’t know them.
“Still, they are adults, now,” Liz said. Despite all that she had gone through over the past two years, she felt that there was a time when people had to stand up on their own two feet. Her children were too old to run to her for money. She was on a fixed income and any money she had, needed to last her for the rest of her life.
“They have mortgage payments and we have equity. You know that they are thinking that if we sell our houses and give them the money to pay off their mortgages that they’ll be in a position to take care of us,” Claire said putting her thoughts on the matter in plain words.
“They’ll hate every penny they have to spend on us,” Bev said shaking her head.
They’d be real appreciative at first, but with time her kids would view her as a drain on their income. People didn’t have much of a memory when it came to remembering past help. The sad thing was that the offer would have been attractive at one time.
Liz said, “Before we started the commune, I would have probably jumped at the chance.”
“I know what you mean,” Bev said thinking that it was a little hypocritical of her to feel so angry now that her quality of life had improved a bit.
“So what should we do?” Claire asked happy that she wasn’t facing this situation alone.
“I can’t afford a big Thanksgiving dinner,” Liz said.
“Neither can I,” Bev said.
Knowing Jack would probably die if he were to hear what she was about to say, Claire said, “I wish Jack wasn’t at work. He’d have an idea.”
“He’s pretty good at coming up with good ideas,” Bev said.
Considering the kinds of things that Jack suggested, Liz said, “He’d probably say to invite them to have dinner here. We cook one extra turkey for all of the guests without killing our budget and without ending up with a bunch of leftovers.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly what he would recommend,” Claire said shaking her head.
“He’d probably be right. Besides, it might help lay to rest any concerns they have about us,” Bev said.
“It is not a bad idea,” Liz said thinking about it.
“We’ll have to thank him for the idea,” Bev said and then realized he had not suggested the idea. She grinned and said, “He’s not even here.”
Realizing how ridiculous the conversation had become, Claire laughed and said, “Right. I guess our thanks would confuse him.”
“He’d probably think we’re going senile,” Bev said laughing.
“I don’t know where I’m going to put the kids,” Liz said thinking about the other problems of having visitors.
“I doubt Mary would appreciate being kicked out of the house,” Claire said realizing that she no longer had a guest room.
Bev said, “I was going to insist they stay at a hotel.”
“Why? You have room,” Claire said.
“It’s the principle of the thing. They ignore me all year and then invite themselves over for the holidays without even asking me what I thought of the idea. To tell the truth, I’m a little angry at them. Three months ago I could have used a little help and where were they?” Bev answered. Her son had basically said that he was coming for the holiday. He didn’t even entertain the idea that she had a choice in the matter.
“What do you want to bet that a dozen more houses go up for sale over the next three months?” Liz said thinking that all of the people in the neighborhood were going to get visits from their children over the holidays.
“I wouldn’t take that bet,” Claire said knowing that it was probably what was going to happen. She shook her head and said, “They’ll be saying that they are concerned about their parents. They’ll probably even mean it.”
After a moment of silence, Liz said, “You know that what they are trying to do is a family version of our commune. It is a way of bringing the family back together and getting everyone to contribute for the good of the family. It isn’t that bad of an idea.”
“Well, my family was too late,” Bev said with a bit of finality to her voice.
With a twinkle in her eye, Claire said, “I just might suggest to my daughter that she have her kids move in with her. I bet that would go over like a lead balloon.”
At the image that provoked, Bev laughed and said, “That’s a great idea.”
“Do you think Jack would invite his parents to move in with him?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about them much,” Liz said wondering about the relationship between Jack and his parents.
“He calls them on occasion. At least that is what Abby tells me,” Claire said. Jack usually borrowed Abby’s cell phone to make calls.
“That’s good,” Liz said.
“I think his parents are doing okay financially,” Claire said.
At work, Abby’s telephone rang. She was going to answer it until she saw the expression on her boss’s face. Rather than get into an argument, she let it go over to voice mail wondering who was calling her at work. When her first break came around, she listened to the voicemail. She called back, “Hello, Mrs. Dunne.”
“Hello, Abby. How are you doing?” Jack’s mother answered. She wondered why Jack didn’t talk about his girlfriend that often, but she was open minded and would give her the benefit of a doubt.
Pleased to hear his mother ask about her, Abby answered, “I’m doing all right.”
“That’s nice. Is Jack around?”
“He’s at work,” Abby answered. Jack’s mother still forgot that Jack now had a regular job with real work hours.
“That’s right. He’s working at the college now, isn’t he?” Mrs. Dunne said. She hoped that he got a cell phone soon. It was such a pain relaying messages through Abby.
“Right. I’ll let him know that you called,” Abby said. She looked down at her tray of tacos thinking that she’d have to cut the call short.
“I just wanted to invite you and Jack over for Thanksgiving,” Mrs. Dunne said.
“Thank you,” Abby said surprised by the invitation. She didn’t know if she was going to have to work that day. Thinking about it, she realized that it was highly likely she would have to work. The high school kids would all want the holiday off and as the ‘peon’ she would be stuck there for most of the day.
“Talk it over with Jack and let me know what you decide,” Mrs. Dunne said. She was hoping to meet Abby and the upcoming holidays seemed like the perfect opportunity.
Pretty sure that Jack would accept the invitation, Abby said, “I’ll be sure to tell him. He’ll call you tonight.”
“Great,” Mrs. Dunne said.
Abby returned to work after her break thinking about Jack and his family. She knew that he thought very highly of his father. His mother tended to worry about him and Jack was careful not to give her more to worry about. She was sure that they would have helped him out with a little money, but Jack was a little too proud to accept it. She wondered if he was afraid of losing his father’s respect.
Sometimes Jack puzzled her. He was an odd mix of modern man and old fashioned gentleman. He rose when a woman came to the table. At the same time, he could back off and let a modern woman be self-sufficient.
She said, “He’s eating his way into my mind.”
Her boss asked, “What?”
“I was just talking to myself,” Abby said realizing that she had said that last bit aloud.
“Well, clean up the dining area before the next rush,” her manager said.
“Yes, Sir,” Abby said looking across the dining area. There were times when she felt that people were real pigs. Taco wrappers were scattered on the floor. The tables were filthy and half of them had trays left on them. She hated this job, but it was better than working at the nursing home.
Jack entered the office and looked at the carpet. There was a large tear just inside the door. The movers had torn it while moving a filing cabinet into the room. The woman at her desk looked up at him and asked, “What do you need?”
“I’m here to check out the carpet,” Jack answered squatting down. He could patch it, but it wouldn’t last.
“Good. I trip over it every time I enter my office,” the woman said.
Looking up at her, Jack said, “Well, I can patch it or I can replace it. If I patch it, it won’t last long. If I replace it, you’ll have to move everything out of the office.”
“Patch it,” the woman said thinking that she didn’t want to go through the hassles of moving everything out of the office. She added, “Fix it during the summer.”
“I’ll talk to my boss about it,” Jack said understanding her decision.
“Do I need to leave while you make the repair?” she asked.
“I’ll do my best not to disturb you,” Jack said.
“Thank you,” she said turning back to her work.
A little carpet tape would patch the problem for the time being. It was a simple tear and didn’t require him to replace any of the carpet. He bent down and started to work on it. He looked up when he heard the woman say, “Guten Tag, Herr Frederick.”
Smiling he went back to work while she exchanged small talk with the person on the other end of the telephone. After a few minutes, the conversation changed to a more serious topic that outstripped his understanding of German. He caught a few words now and then, but had no idea what she was discussing. He finished the job a few minutes after she had hung up the phone.
Rising from the carpet, he said, “Es ist ordentlich befestigt.”
“Sie sprechen Deutsch?” she asked, surprised.
“Ein wenig,” Jack answered with a smile. Knowing that his German wasn’t up to explaining how he had come to speak the language, he switched to English and said, “There’s an elderly German woman who doesn’t speak English in my neighborhood. I talk to her on occasion. The only reason that I know how to say that it is fixed is because I occasionally repair things around her house.”
“You learned German to talk to one old lady?” the woman asked very surprised by his comment.
“I guess you could say that,” Jack said picking up his tools. “She doesn’t have anyone else to talk with except her daughter-in-law.”
“That’s nice of you,” the woman said thinking he was a jewel in the rough. With a little education he could turn out quite nicely.
Deciding that he had imposed too long, Jack said, “Well, I’ll let you get back to work.”
“What is your name?” the woman asked before he had a chance to leave.
“Jack Dunne.”
“I’m Melissa Franks.”
“It is nice to meet you Frau Doktor Franks,” Jack said remembering a little about how to address people based on their title.
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