A Friend's Last Gift

Copyright © 2011 Tracy E Whipple

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-3456-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-3457-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011906312

Printed in the United States of America

Balboa Press rev. date: 06/20/2011

Sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness. ~ Galway Kinnell

To my wonderful parents, Gene & Sheilia, my brother, Lance, my sister-in-law, Wanda, and my nieces and nephew, Kayla, Amanda and Eric, for all your love and your support of my imagination. I love you all.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 1

Maggie sighed as she put the key in the lock. She could swear those stairs were getting harder to climb every day. The lock resisted, again. She had called the landlord twice, and it still wasn’t fixed. Maggie let out an extremely heavy sigh, and the lock finally clicked open. She made a mental note to look up the repair steps on the internet. Maggie was uncomfortable badgering him to fix it and too impatient to wait for him to do it in his own time. The landlord knew that if he ignored her longer enough, she would figure out a way to fix it herself. She found the situation very irritating but felt powerless to change it.

The apartment was dark. Maybe she should have one of those timer lights. She thought about how wonderful it would be to come home to a lit apartment. It would be even better to come home to someone. A timer light would give her the illusion that someone was there. Sometimes illusionary thinking was all that stood between her and the funny farm, or at least it felt that way. Maggie sighed even louder this time, placing her purse and bag next to the entry table. It always came back to her love life. That is why the stairs seemed such a challenge tonight. The speed dating had been a fiasco.

The day had started with such promise. When the alarm rang, she had actually been ready and willing to get up. The work day had gone quickly, and she had actually gotten more done than she’d planned. Maggie had chosen to believe that these were all signs that Mr. Right was waiting for her at the speed dating event. Why had she let Paula talk her into it? For two hours, she had smiled and talked about her interests, asking questions she thought would make the men comfortable. Of the thirty guys she had met, she found five intriguing enough to pursue. By the end of the evening, she had really gotten her hopes up. As she and Paula eagerly waited to hear of any matches, visions of dinners and movie dates danced through her mind. However, her dreams for the night were not meant to be. None of her choices were interested in her. In fact, not one of the thirty men she had spoken with expressed interest in her. Paula, on the other hand, had two matches and left the event with one of them. Maggie grimaced as she thought of it. Paula had taken that guy’s arm and never looked back. Maggie felt rejected and used. She had to get a better class of friend.

Maggie hung her keys on the peg by the door and locked up. Kicking off her shoes, she sank into the recliner. The more she thought of the evening, the more she realized that she needed to make some changes in her life. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in years, and the last one had been a felon. Tonight, the only men she attracted were three homeless guys looking for booze money. Was it possible that she would be alone forever? How had this happened? How was she going to get herself out of it? What a way to start the weekend.

Her living room was comfortably decorated in shades of grey with pops of purple in the curtains and sofa pillows. The furnishings were simple, light grey carpet and walls, a dark grey sofa, a dark grey recliner and a dark walnut entertainment center. The curtains were a simple pattern of purple and grey. Some people commented that the colors were depressing, but Maggie found them calming. It was the only place in the apartment where she felt she could think.

She sat there for what felt like an eternity. No ideas came. Well, she thought, this is productive. Maybe if I started on the chores, that big great idea would come. She reluctantly hoisted herself from the chair and went to the bedroom, removing clothes as she went. Maggie turned the light on in her closet. It was a nice sized walk-in closet and the main reason that she stayed in this apartment. She grabbed her weekend uniform of a baggy t-shirt and jeans, threw her work clothes in the laundry basket, and carried the basket to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, the detergent box fell out, narrowly missing her head. She had been meaning to organize that cabinet. What else had she neglected to do? She reached for the bag of quarters only to find it was not in its regular place. Where had she put it? She couldn’t remember, and the bag eluded her. It took 45 minutes and a full re-organization of the cupboard to find it. Heading for the laundry room, she instinctually grabbed her keys and then, at the last minute, decided not to lock the apartment. Why intentionally increase her irritation factor?

The laundry room was three flights down from her apartment. Maggie kicked herself for picking a building with no elevator. Oh yeah, the decision had made sense at the time. It had been a misguided attempt at getting more exercise. In the end, all it turned out to be was irritating.

The one positive thing about not dating was that she always had the laundry room to herself on Friday nights. She loaded all her clothes into the machines and let them go. Good thing she’d grabbed her keys, might as well get the mail. Walking up a flight, she opened box 33 removing the contents.

Good evening

Startled Maggie dropped everything. The mail fluttered about her feet, and her keys bounced toward the front door. She turned to see Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. Okay, he was more like the average guy next door but still, that wasn’t bad. Hello she squeaked. He extended his hand towards hers.

Pleasure to meet a neighbor. I’m Clark Handy. New to the building. I’m moving into apartment 34. Maggie grasped his hand and shook it. He had a strong grip and beautiful blue eyes.

Maggie Worth, apartment 33, welcome to the building. She knelt to pick up her mail and reached for her keys.

You’re the first person I’ve seen. Is it always this quiet he asked as he knelt to help her.

It is on Friday nights. It is a great time to do laundry; although, you’ll have to fight me for the machines.

No fear, I take all my stuff to the cleaners so the machines are all yours.

Thanks, Maggie replied. Pity, she thought. He’d make a great companion on laundry night. Clark handed the mail back to her and said good night. She watched him walk out the door into the night. Well, that was the first positive surprise of the night. Maybe her evening was looking up.

Maggie tucked the mail under her arm and headed back to the laundry room. She would read until it was time to put the clothes into the dryer. As soon as she stepped into the room, the positive feeling of meeting Clark evaporated. She set the mail on top of a dryer as she stepped down into the laundry room. Her slippers began to squish, and the problem became uncomfortably clear. One of the washers was gushing water like Niagara Falls. The wet floor wasn’t the only bad part of this scenario. The overflowing washer contained her delicates. Bras and panties were floating all over the floor. As Maggie rushed to turn off the washer, she slipped on a pair of granny panties and fell squarely on her ass. The water soaked into her jeans. That was the last straw. The tears came in a flood of emotion. Tsunami waves of feelings washed over her. Maggie could not believe this was happening to her. Only one thing could make this situation any worse.

Need help?

Maggie turned her head to see Clark, standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. Yep, this was indeed the worst day of her life. No, she thought, that was a lie. It was just another in a long string of crappy days. She tried to respond but only cried harder. Clark took off his shoes and made his way to the washer turning off the water with no effort at all. He extended a strong arm and helped Maggie from the floor. Without a word, he moved her to the chair and picked up all her wet clothes and put them in her laundry basket.

Is there a broom around here?

Maggie could only point to the dark corner. Clark found not only a broom but a squeegee. It gave Clark the impression that this had apparently happened before. In no time, he had the water pushed down the floor drain.

Thank you, whispered Maggie. Today has been a challenge, and this was the last straw.

I figured as much. The standing water is gone so you should be safe to use the other machines. He hopped up and sat on the broken machine. Does this happen often?

Well, I have seen ‘machine broken’ signs every now and then but have never been down here when one acted up. I hope I’m not here the next time it happens. She was beginning to relax.

So, what else should I know about this place? he asked.

Maggie took a deep breath. Should she really tell him the truth? He might move right out of the building, and then she’d never have a chance to get to know him. They say honesty is the best policy so she’d just assume that he could handle it. The landlord is slow to respond to requests. I’ve been waiting forever, well actually a few weeks, for him to fix the lock to my door. The garbage chute always clogs at the end and beginning of the month. Don’t use the garbage disposal in your unit as the line to the building is narrowing, and the owner doesn’t want to spend the money to clean the line. A gal on the fourth floor used hers and flooded all the units below her. Don’t worry if you hear a fight in unit 22. They aren’t really fighting. Harold is losing his hearing and refuses to get a hearing aid. Gladys has to scream at him to get his attention.

Wow, you have your finger on the pulse of this place. He chuckled. Maggie noticed that his blue eyes twinkled when he laughed. The washers that were working stopped, and she threw the clothes into the dryer loading the waterlogged underwear into the empty machine. Maggie sat back down in the chair. I don’t know about having my finger on any pulse, but I am pretty observant. Thank you for helping me.

You’re welcome. Just call me Superman, my friends do. I always seem to be rescuing damsels in distress. He laughed a full body laugh. Maggie liked the sound of his laugh. It was like a warm blanket on a cold night. Well, it looks like you have everything under control now. I’ve got a date, and she’ll never let me forget it if I am late. See you around Maggie. Clark hopped off the washer and headed upstairs.

Of course he has a date, Maggie thought. Everyone in this town has a date except me. Maggie grabbed an envelope and began to open her mail. Nothing but bills, she sighed again. She stashed the mail and pulled out her book. It was the only consistent date she had ever had. As she began to read, she prayed that all the surprises were over for a while.

Maggie woke with a start. The dryer buzzed and she found herself alone in the laundry room. She folded her laundry, collected her things, and headed back to her apartment. Tomorrow has to be a better day, doesn’t it?

Chapter 2

A pesky ray of sunshine peeked around the blinds and woke Maggie. She stretched and rubbed the sand from her eyes. Boy, had yesterday worn her out. She was optimistic that today would be better. Maggie began to shuffle around the bed when she stubbed her toe on the laundry basket she had failed to put away last night. She sighed and put the clothes away.

Still yawning, she lumbered into the kitchen to make scrambled eggs and sausage. Maggie opened the fridge to discover no eggs. Of course there were no eggs; she had forgotten to stop at the store last night. Oh well, she thought, I guess I eat out. She showered, dressed and walked down to the local coffee shop. Mel’s served the best food in the neighborhood, and his breakfast menu was the stuff of legends. The building was a simple brick construction built in 1921 according to the date chiseled above the door. The interior was decorated in warmly stained wood paneling with mission-styled wood tables and stained glass lights. Upon opening the restaurant door, her nose was tickled by wonderful aromas. Maggie loved the smell of Mel’s fresh brewed coffee. She took in a deep breath.

Forgot to shop again, eh Maggie?

Maggie laughed, Yes Mel, I did.

You want the usual, scrambled eggs and sausage?

Yes please, Mel. Your coffee smells particularly wonderful today, Maggie purred.

Surprise me and have some?

No thank you Mel. You know I only like to breathe it in. Maggie took in another deep breath. Mel’s coffee was one of the few aromas that could always bring a smile to her face.

You sure are pretty when you smile. You might try it more often.

I save it for you, Mel. Maggie sang as she made her way to her seat.

Maggie stopped short at the bulletin board. How long had she been coming here and never noticed it before? The flyer for a local yoga class beckoned to her. Why? She took the flyer from the board, folded it and placed it in her pocket. She’d figure out what it meant later. Now was the time to read and relax. Maggie took the only open table near the window. She loved to people watch on Saturday mornings. There was the old couple walking hand in hand, the young mother pushing the stroller, and the trio of Goth girls heckling the skateboarders. They all seemed to be connected to life. It suddenly occurred to Maggie that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t connected. Could that be why things never worked out? She pulled the flyer from her pocket.

Connect with the world through Yoga. First class free. Try us and see how you feel.

Could it really be that simple? Learn yoga and be happy? Nah, there had to be a catch. Maggie put the flyer back in her pocket and opened her book. She smiled at the waitress delivering her eggs. Maggie ate in silence.

Clark could see Maggie from the kitchen. What’s her story? he asked Mel.

"Who? Maggie? Well, she’s single and lives not far from here. She has a great sense of humor. Her laugh is like sunshine. She used to laugh a lot. She’s been a bit lost since her best friend died a few years ago. They used to meet here every Saturday.