Joan completes the planned renovations, but will Mom be pleased, angry, or simply annoyed with her?

Chapter 4

Whistle While You Work

Friday morning finally arrived. It was closing in on eight o’clock as I made my way downstairs. Mom wouldn’t be down for some time yet, so I put a pot of coffee on. It was a glorious day outside. A perfect day for painting! While the coffee perked, I ran down to the basement to assemble everything I was going to need. The ladder, drop cloths and such were gathered at the foot of the stairs. I hoped that Mom had no reason to enter the basement this morning.

I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in hand. I began to carefully map out my day. Sam! I had forgotten about him. I quickly dialed his number and hoped that it wasn’t too early.

"Hello?" he said suspiciously into the phone.

"Sam! It’s great to hear your voice. You are coming over to help out this afternoon, aren’t you?"

"Anything for you Joan. I’ve got practice till two o’clock. I should be able to make it over there by three. Is that all right?"

"Well, I guess it’ll have to be," I said dejectedly. I knew I wasn’t being fair. Baseball was the most important thing in Sam’s life and I should be happy for him. I tried again.

"Sam, that’s fantastic! I’m sure we’ll be able to get the job finished before Mom gets home from work." I didn’t go into details explaining that by the time he got there Darla and I would have most of the work completed. Still there would be some heavy lifting to do. That would be the perfect way to utilize Sam’s talents, I thought to myself and laughed.

"Have a great day at practice sweetheart. I’ll see you when you get here." I didn’t tell him that Darla would be here when he arrived. I doubted that he’d be crazy about the idea. We said our goodbyes and I got back into planning mode.

It was almost eight thirty and I still hadn’t heard any rumblings from Mom. I ran up stairs to make sure she was awake. She was generally out of the house by nine fifteen.

I knocked on her door gently while yelling out "Mom, are you awake?" Hearing no response, I made my way inside. I shook her gently.

"Wake up sleepyhead. It’s time to go to work." As Mom began to squirm under the covers, a sudden surge of panic swept through me. Was she planning on staying home today? Oh No!

"What time is it?" she asked as she attempted to open her eyes.

"It’s almost eight thirty Mom. You’d better hurry or you’re going to be late" I added hopefully. She began moving at a rapid pace. I’d never seen her awaken so fast.

"Thanks Joan," was all she said as she ran for the shower. Whew! Now I just had to hope that Darla didn’t show up early. Knowing her as I did, I doubted that she’d show up unexpectedly. I went back downstairs and decided to scramble a few eggs for Mom. I couldn’t believe it. Mom showed up fully dressed and made up just twenty minutes later. How was that possible?

"I made you some breakfast," I told her as I poured her coffee.

"Joan, I don’t usually eat breakfast," she scolded.

"Well today, you’re eating breakfast," I said with total determination. I scraped her eggs onto her plate, got the toast out of the toaster and ran to grab the butter and jam.

"Aren’t you going to eat anything this morning?" she asked me. I lied and told her that I’d already eaten. Her smile told me that she knew I wasn’t telling the truth.

"So, what are you going to do today?" She asked me. I told her my cover story. Darla was coming over and then we were going to spend the day at the beach. Mom accepted this lie as the truth. I guess the tone of my voice was more convincing? Today was going to be more fun that a day at the beach, I thought as I cleared away her plates.

"Well sweetheart, it’s almost quarter after. I’d better get going. Oh, I forgot to put anything up for this evenings menu. Why don’t we have some pizza? This time it’s my treat." I hugged her and considered my allowance which I would no longer be receiving. Her treat indeed.

"That’ll be great Mom. This way I won’t have to worry about dinner and Darla and I will be able to have a bit more fun." OK, so I was reaching with that last bit. Still, she bought it. She bade my goodbye and was off to work.

I waited five minutes to make sure she was really gone and then began bringing everything up from the basement. From having watched my father in the past, I knew the proper order of things. The ceiling would be painted first. I opened the windows to air the room out and began laying down the drop cloths. Ah! I’d forgotten a screw driver to open the paint cans. I ran back down the stairs and came up with the biggest one I could find.

I still had about twenty minutes before Darla was due to arrive. I was just so excited! I poured myself another cup of coffee and sat there waiting expectantly for Darla to arrive. Prompt as always, Darla showed up at ten sharp. She hadn’t come alone. Aunt Viv knocked tentatively on the front door and I told them to just come on in.

"Would you ladies like a cup of coffee before we get to work?" I asked.

"Wait a minute Joan. I’m not here to work," said Aunt Vivian. "I’m just the chauffeur."

I laughed at that and told her that I wasn’t expecting her help. She then asked to see the room we’d be working in.

"Oh, this is lovely! OK girls, I’ve got things to do. Darla, I’ll be back at five forty five this evening. If you need anything well, you have my phone number and your legs are in perfect working order. Oh, you almost forgot: The paintings!"

Darla dragged me outside with her and she popped open the trunk. On top were the two pictures that I’d selected. She also brought two more.

"What are those for?" I asked her as I examined the soft blues of the complimenting ocean scenes.

"Consider them an early birthday present," she said and hefted them out of the trunk.

"Oh Darla, Aunt Viv! I can’t thank you enough." Fortunately, I didn’t break down and cry though I certainly felt like doing just that. Darla also carried a small brown paper bag.

"What’s in the bag?" I asked.

"Never mind Joan, you’ll see later." With that she placed the bag on the kitchen table. I eyed it curiously.

"No peeking!" She admonished. Aunt Viv gave us both quick hugs and was on her way.

"Are you ready to get started?" I asked her.

"I am if you are." With the two of us doing the job the work should go a lot faster. I opened the can of ceiling white and was greatly relieved that there would be more than enough to do the job. The paint thoroughly stirred not shaken (ha ha) I gathered up the rolling pan and edger.

"OK Darla, I’m going to get started on the ceiling. There really isn’t much you can do while I’m doing that unless? How are you with a paint brush?" I asked her. A look of confusion swept over her face. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here at this moment.

"Hmmm? How about if you clean up some of the stuff we’re going to put in the room when the job’s done?"

"I can do that!" She said as a smile made its way to her face for the first time that morning. I went upstairs and retrieved Mom’s sewing machine from the back of the closet. The damned thing was heavy. Where was Sam when you needed him? I then brought Darla into the basement and showed her the table and the mannequin which would also need a good going over with a rag.

I got her a bucket and some rags and told her I should be done in about half an hour. That was a total guess on my part. It turned out to be a good one. Painting with a roller was indeed the easiest thing in the world. I was totally amazed at how fast the work went. Hell, it took longer to do the edging than to paint the actual ceiling. I finished with the ceiling and headed into the basement in search of Darla. She was knee deep in dust.

"You’re doing all the fun stuff," she whined.

"Trust me Darla, there’s plenty of painting for you to do. Why don’t you get cleaned up a bit and we’ll start on the walls. She practically ran upstairs into the kitchen. She washed her hands and arms and poured herself a cup of coffee. I decided to join her.

"So, are you going to tell me what’s in the bag yet?"

She simply giggled and said, "No!"

Break time over, it was time to open the cans of pink! I opened the first can and noticed that the color appeared evenly mixed already. Still, I got a clean stick and worked the color into a whirl. Thank God for drop cloths!

"Just give me a few minutes and then you can do some serious painting, all right?" I asked her. She wanted to know why the delay. I told her that I had to do the cutting in first. I got the edging tools and laid a neat pink boundary on the wall against the ceiling. I gulped hard as I saw the dramatic color take hold. Had I made a mistake? Was it too much? I then thought that if Mom hated it, more than one coat of whatever else she wanted would be required to cover this over.

"Oh Joan! It’s the perfect color for a sewing room," Darla said with some authority. Her reaction calmed me down. I wondered for a moment if she just said that so she could get her hands on a paint roller. I filled up a pan for her. I put a clean roller on the handle and told her how to apply the paint. Not too heavy, I warned. As she began rolling the walls I finished the rest of the edge work. There was still a ton of painting left to do. The trim would take the longest.

My friend never seemed happier than when she was covering those white walls with the vivid pink. I smiled at her as I watched her work. By one o’clock we finished with the main painting. The color contrasts between the walls and the ceiling and trim were shocking. If nothing else, this room made a statement.

"Why don’t we take a break and then get started on the trim?"

"You’re quite the little slave driver aren’t you Joan?" She teased.

We took turns at the kitchen sink washing and peeling the latex paint from our skin. The clean up process was beyond easy.

"Do you like turkey?" I asked her hoping that there’d be enough for both of us to have a sandwich.

"Turkey’s fine Joan," was all she said. "But I want mine with lettuce and mayo. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make lunch. I was starting to feel a bit tired. I took her up on her offer. Well, after I got out the sodas and a bag of chips. We ate slowly. Feelings of accomplishment showed on both of our faces. Of course, the most difficult part of the job remained. Painting the trim was a tedious task.

"Joan, I know this sounds crazy, but I really need a nap."

She did indeed look worn out. We finished eating and cleaning up and I led her up to my bedroom. Her mouth fell open as she saw the two teddy bears sitting atop my pillow. I was unsure how to handle this situation. I decided to make a joke of it.

"Darla, I’d like you to meet Teddy and Teddy Too." I did the quick name change thinking Darla wouldn’t appreciate "Josam’s" real name. Instead of becoming angry, she seemed happy to find them there. She picked them both up and squeezed them tight in the same way Sam had done last weekend..

"We really are sisters, aren’t we?" she asked.
"You’re the best sister a girl ever had," I assured her. I thought for a moment that she was going to ask me to join her on the bed. I’m glad she didn’t cause that wasn’t going to happen. I loved her very much. But, I loved her as a sister, not a suitor.

"You sleep as long as you need to. I’m going to go and get started on the trim." She smiled at my dedication and I made my way quickly back downstairs. The trim white was a high gloss and a bit more difficult to work with. Fortunately, I’d worked with it before and knew how to handle it. Sam arrived promptly at three as I was in the middle of the job.

"Door’s open. Come on in!" I shouted.

Sam came softly down the hall and into the office.

"Oh Joan! I can’t believe it! The room is absolutely beautiful." The former exclaimed and the latter whispered softly. I was overcome with emotion. I ran to give him a hug and my eyes carefully swept over the room. The ghosts were gone. My grin grew so wide it hurt.

"Do you really like it Sam?" I asked in need of further reassurance.

"Yes!" was all he said.

"Sam, I really need to get this finished. There’s not really anything you can do to help at the moment. Could you come back in about an hour and help me get the room set up?" I asked hopefully. He shuffled his feet briefly. I could tell he was half tempted to offer to help me paint the windows.

Finally he simply said, "I’ll see you in an hour."

I gave him a quick kiss and continued with my task. I was grateful that Darla hadn’t come down the stairs while we were talking. Sam might have gotten the wrong idea. I’d have to make sure she was up and out of my room by the time he returned. By three forty five, the painting was finished. Now it was time to do the clean up. I sealed up the paint cans. For awhile I was hoping that only one gallon of salmon would do the trick. It turned out that we dipped half way into the second can.

I made my way up into my room. I couldn’t believe that Darla was still sleeping. She really looked like an angel. I watched her for a few moments before softly awakening her. She awoke with a start. I could tell that she had no idea where she was.

"Darla, it’s all right. You’re in my room, remember?" She smiled up at me and made her way to the bathroom.

"I’m going to go and start cleaning up. Oh, and Sam’s going to be here in a few minutes." I didn’t tell her that I hoped she’d be downstairs when he arrived. That just seemed rude somehow.

I carried the ladder and paint cans back to the basement. With everything properly put away, I surveyed the room again. I was beyond glad that I’d done the job. We had only to get Mom’s sewing tools in the room and arrange it all in an orderly manner. Darla came down the stairs just as Sam entered the front door.

"Hi Sam," Darla said disarmingly.

I could sense that Sam was poised for a fight as I watched the scene unfold before my eyes. In fact, the last time these two had spoken blood was spilled. Unfortunately, that blood had been mine. For some reason that thought made me giggle. I was indeed losing my mind. It must be the paint fumes, I surmised.

"Hi Darla," Sam said cautiously. I was glad that he hadn’t gone into combat mode.

"Sam! Thanks for being here. The painting is all done and now we just have to assemble the room" I said in an attempt to change the subject. We began gathering everything together. Sam and Darla actually worked cooperatively to bring up the table and mannequin. I just knew Mom was going to love it The beige Berber carpet which I’d found rolled up in a corner of the basement set the whole room off perfectly.

"OK Joan, now you can open the bag," Darla announced.

I’d completely forgotten about her secret little brown bag. I opened it and a smile broke out all over my face. "Yes!" I exclaimed knowing exactly what the bits of wire and hooks were for. Sam eyed it all inquisitively. I got the two pictures and displayed them at various points throughout the room. The large rectangular forest scene was going to go over the sewing table. Thankfully, both frames had already been wired. We’d only need to place the hooks in the proper spot.

"How did you afford those?" Sam asked.

There was nothing to do but tell him of the deal I’d struck with Darla’s mother.

"They really make the room," he said honestly.

I ran to him and hugged him with all my might. I could tell that he wasn’t completely comfortable with the situation, but he was as sweet as he could be. And, just for me! The room was now just as I’d envisioned it. We left the door and the windows open to help air it out. In fact, I went and got a floor fan to help remove the odors of fresh paint. It was closing in on five o’clock when Sam hung the final picture.

"How’s your baseball practice going Sam?" Darla asked.

I could tell she was trying. She was doing it for me. I wondered if I could be as generous for her about Sarah. I honestly wasn’t sure.

Sam’s voice boomed as he told us about his day. And, he had some news. It seemed Sam had been selected to be the opening day pitcher. That was an honor bestowed on the best a team had to offer. Darla and I congratulated him on his success. I was still a tad jealous, but those feelings were slowly fading away. I got us all some cokes and we made our way into the backyard and wondered aloud as to Mom’s potential reaction to the sewing room. Darla thought she couldn’t help but love it. Sam wasn’t so sure but overall seemed cautiously optimistic.

I knew the room was perfect, but I have to admit I was also assailed by doubts. Oh well, it was too late to do anything about it now. Darla and Shandy got on like long lost friends. I could tell that Sam was a bit jealous of the developing relationship. Shandy usually ran straight to Sam and stayed with him until he’d had enough. I smiled as I considered, now he knows what it feels like to be passed over
.
Off in the distance I heard a faint knocking sound. Ah! Aunt Viv had finally arrived. I looked forward to her unbiased opinion of our work that day.

"Come on guys," I said as I made my way to the front door. Sam and Darla followed close behind. I opened the door and she beamed at the three of us.

"Hi girls! And who’s this strapping young man you’ve got here with you?" She’d never met Sam before. I made the introductions and Sam stood there blushing and gushing.

"So, let me see the damage you’ve wreaked before your mother gets home. If it’s a total disaster maybe I can help smooth things over for you. After all, it’s the thought that counts."

Her comments were intended to be humorous. They only succeeded in creating a series of tiny knots deep in the pit of my stomach.

"Oh Joan! Don’t be such a worry wart. I’m sure the room is perfect."

She followed as I led the procession down the hall and into the sewing room.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed. "This can’t be the same room I was in early this morning, can it?" Mom’s sewing table gleamed from the coat of polish that Darla had applied. The sewing machine cover was off. With the guiding light on, it was ready for use.

"You girls have really outdone yourselves. Joan, your mother is going to love this. And, I have to admit seeing those paintings on the wall almost makes me wish I’d never parted with them. Who knew that all they needed was a pink wall to be displayed upon?" She laughed as she said it.

"OK, now I want the three of you over here in the corner. Sam, you get behind Joan and Darla. Put your arms around their shoulders. Come on!"

We all shuffled into position as Aunt Vivian pulled out her digital camera. Three sheepish grins were tattooed to our faces. Aunt Viv took several shots of us in various poses. Her picture taking lightened the mood.

Before I knew it a familiar voice greeted me. "Joan, I’m home! What’s Vivian’s car doing in the driveway?" she asked.

We stood there quietly. Mom sought us out quickly like a heat seeking missile.

"Oh My God!" She exclaimed as she entered the room. The moment of truth had arrived.

"What have you done?" It was impossible from the tone of her voice to know whether she was angry, sad, or ecstatically happy. I hoped it was the latter.

Her eyes ran over and over the walls, the paintings, and the furniture. We were invisible to her. I stood there about to burst into tears. I still didn’t know if she liked what I’d done. Aunt Viv, noticing my distress took control of the situation.

"Come on everyone. Let’s adjourn to the kitchen." We made our way out of the room. The kitchen table was only capable of accommodating four. I grabbed a chair from the dining room and sat off to the side between Sam and Darla.

"What ever possessed you to do such a thing?" Mom began. I couldn’t take it anymore. The tears began flowing and I had no way of stopping them.

"I was hoping you’d teach me how to sew," I said. I didn’t dare admit that my real reason was to remove any traces of my bastard father. This wasn’t going at all like I’d planned.

Aunt Vivian had remained quiet up to this time. "Where’s your liquor cabinet?" She asked at last. Grateful for something to do, I wiped my eyes and escorted her to the dry sink. She eyed the contents carefully and finally selected the bottle of Absolut.

She smiled at me and assured me that everything was going to be all right. We went back into the kitchen where everyone was sitting stone faced.

"Why don’t you guys go play in the backyard for a bit?" Aunt Viv made the suggestion which was anything but.

We rose as one and made our way silently into the backyard. Sam’s face conveyed a message of, "I told you so." Darla came over and wrapped her arms around me, assuring me that it was going to be fine. Sam just stood off to the side staring at his sneakers as if he expected them to begin moving of their own accord.

We sat there for what seemed like forever. Several attempts were made at conversation but none of them yielded anything but short, terse replies. I could tell that Sam was really uncomfortable. His gaze continually fell upon the gate as he silently planned his escape.

"It’s all right Sam, you can go if you want," I said not wanting to keep him there against his will. A hopeful look swept over his face.

"Are you sure?" He asked. That told me everything. Yes, I was sure I didn’t want him here if he didn’t want to be here. Why was I suddenly angry with Sam? He’d done nothing wrong. I calmed myself down.

"I’ll call you later and let you know how it all turned out," I said and laughed cynically.

"Joan, I’ll stay if you really want me to?" he tried.

"It’s all right Sam, really. Just give me a hug and I’ll talk to you later."

He didn’t need any further prodding. He did something though that made me proud before he left.

"Darla, I’m really sorry about the way I treated you."

She smiled at him and assured him it was OK. I thought hopefully for a moment that maybe these two unlikely characters could indeed get along. It was funny in a way. Here we were the three of us. Three transgendered teens together in one location for no specific reason other than honest friendship. What were the odds?

Sam left and Darla and I sat at the table a while longer. It was easier now somehow with Sam gone. For some reason I felt my thoughts were in betrayal of him. I know that wasn’t the case, but it did make me feel a bit uneasy.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to go back inside.

"I’m going in Darla," I told her in a voice which suggested that we were indeed going to take that hill and casualties be damned!

Darla followed close behind as I made my way cautiously into the kitchen. There were no signs of life. Was that a good thing or a bad one? I had no idea. Suddenly, I heard voices. I knew where they were. They were in the sewing room. A surge of joy swept over me as Darla and I nearly tripped over one another in the attempt to be the first one inside. Mom sat at her table and was showing Aunt Vivian some of the machine’s capabilities.

Before I could say anything Mom blurted out, "Oh Joan, I’m so sorry! The room is absolutely perfect. But it must have cost a fortune! Painters don’t work cheap,." she said at last. It was her last statement that had me over the moon.

"And these paintings, why they’re just breath taking!" She jumped up from her chair and ran over to me. She hugged me tight as the tears began flowing in harmony down our cheeks. Aunt Viv shot me a look which suggested I remain mum about the origin of the art work.

"We’re going to make such beautiful clothes!" She continued. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. This was the reaction I’d hoped for from the beginning. Aunt Vivian sure was one helluva miracle worker. Darla and her mother stood side by side simply watching us.

"Thank you," we both began at once and burst into giggles. The thanks were to the incredible Raspberrys. We gathered in the middle of the room for a group hug.

"Mom, as to the expense," I began. I could hear her teeth beginning to grind.

"What I mean is, Darla and I did all the work. The only cost was the paint." I half expected her to offer me reimbursement. No such offer was forthcoming.

"Well, you girls did a fantastic job! She beamed at both of us. She seemed to come alive in a way that I’d not seen for a long, long time.

"Wait a minute. I want to go and get my camera." She said as she smiled proudly at all of us.

"No need," Aunt Viv replied as she removed her own from her purse.

"Why don’t you three go stand in the corner?" She suggested yet again. There was no need to discuss our arrangement. Mom instinctively stood behind us and put her arms around our shoulders.

"Say cheese," she laughed as she began snapping away. The mere mention of cheese had my stomach grumbling. I was starving! The photograph process was repeated until we’d all been photographed together. One last group shot of the four of us. The camera expertly perched on the sewing table as we all crouched down to get in the picture.

"Mom? Where’s that pizza you promised?" I asked sincerely.

She laughed and asked me what I wanted on it. I deferred to Darla and Aunt Viv hoping that my offer would entice them to stay. It was the first time I’d ever had a pizza covered in broccoli and mushrooms. Oh well, I reasoned that the company was more important than the food and I could get my favorite, peppers and onions, any time I wanted it. It was just a short walk away…