Alone and Waiting

There were always many things that needed attention around an old house.

She was a widow, and all this was new to her.

She learned that things that had been replaced or repaired long ago needed ministering to again. Hot water heaters, garage door openers, and things of this sort all had finite life spans. These issues could be handled, at a price. One had to research appropriate repair or replacement experts, make contacts, and deal with the representatives that were sent out. Then the work itself, if it commenced, had to be paid for.

And of course, the outdoor aspect of owning a house was a startling reality. 

Early one morning she saw that a pine tree at the very back of the property had fallen during a storm during the night. The land sloped gradually downhill towards the back. During heavy rains or storms, the rainwater ran in rivulets towards the woods at the very far back. The pine tree appeared to have been uprooted and lay across the ground with it's still-vibrant green branches splayed. The ground must have been so sodden, she thought, that the pine tree lost it's grip on the earth.

The tree would have to be cut up and shredded or burned. This could wait. She knew what to accept --- what could wait and what could not. As a widow, she had learned to be alone and to wait.

In her solitude, she decided that living creatures should not have to wait. She tended carefully to herself and to her cat. Friends were emailed and called to keep in touch. She perused dating websites and studied the faces of the men. Were they like her, alone and waiting?

Her daughter, Lila, had recently divorced. To be a widow or divorcee, she decided, was very much the same. You had to learn to be alone. Although Lila was a strong and independent person, she was her child, still. She texted Lila every day. Texting was the best, as it seemed as she never knew when Lila would be busy, distracted, or on the way out the door. Often her message was only to say hello, to ask "how was work" or comment on the weather. 

There had been no antipathy in her daughter's divorce. Lila was a kind and loving woman. The former son-in-law, Chris, was big, amiable kind of guy. She had always enjoyed his company with his affability and humor. Apparently, she concluded, the marriage simply ended. Lila and Chris were still young enough and just went their separate ways. 

Even after the separation and ultimate divorce, Chris still would come by the house every now and then. There were no hard feelings. She would hear his pick-up truck out front, usually in the morning. Chris would come ambling up the driveway and come around the back. He would knock on the door to the kitchen and open it a crack. "Anybody home?" he would call. "I'm on my way to work and thought I would stop by and check on you." 

They would sit down at the kitchen table, and she would pour them each a mug of coffee. It was always good to see his familiar smile. He was strong and healthy and wholesome.

The cat would jump up on the table and try to put her head under Chris's hand. He would tease her and play with her like he was resisting. The cat would persist. So he would stroke her with long and slow motions, and the cat would purr. Then he would stop and gently nudge her down. 

"Go on," he would say. "Get a life."

 "This coffee is the best," he said one day. "It jump starts my whole day."

"Well just stop by any morning," she answered, a bit flustered. "I always make a big pot of coffee, just out of habit I guess."

It was nice to have anyone appreciate anything that she did. It was nice to have anyone to please and to do something for. It was nice to watch Chris and wait for his easy smile.

So the morning coffee klatch became a daily ritual. Chris started to come by earlier, and they would linger at the table with their mugs.  She would get up a few times to refill them, and Chris would watch her moving about. They would chat about the news and the weather, and Chris would tell her about his job.  

 "Where's my cat?" he would ask. The cat would jump up, and she would watch his hands stroking and caressing.

She had her hair cut and would shampoo it in the shower early each day. Then she bustled about the kitchen, setting out the mugs and Chris's sugar cubes.

She waited for the sound of his truck and his quick rap on the door, and she didn't feel so alone anymore.  

The morning after the storm and the fallen tree, she heard Chris's truck out front as always. She tucked her hair behind her ears and smoothed out her blouse and thought about the tree.

Of course the tree could wait. But Chris always asked, "Need any help? Can I do anything?" Maybe she should mention it. He always asked if he could do anything.

"A big old tree came down out back last night," she said when he came in the kitchen door.

"Oh? Let's go look and see what happened."

So they walked together out in the muddy yard towards the back. She stumbled and leaned in towards Chris for balance. His arm grabbed her and steadied her. He held her upright. She looked up in his eyes, and she felt flushed and short of breath.

"That just happened last night during the storm," she explained. "Maybe I need to call a tree service or something?"

"No, no," he said, thinking, seeming to ponder. "But, Jesus, I'm going to have to bring my chain saw over to get to this." 

They went back into the kitchen for their coffee. Chris was quiet and then left for work.

Early the next morning, she heard the whining and buzzing noise of a chain saw. This was strange in the quiet of the early day. It was usually totally silent around the house at that time of the morning. Out front, Chris's truck was parked in the driveway. She had not heard it while she was in the shower.

Looking out the kitchen window, she saw green pine branches piling up at one side of the yard and Chris's strong back hovering over the remains of the tree trunk.

What on earth? Didn't he have to go to work?

She slipped on her boots and ventured out into the yard. Tripping and trudging through the slippery yard, she approached the far back.  

"Chris, your coffee," she called.  "Aren't you going to be late for work?"

Chris stood upright and set the chain saw on the ground beside him. He motioned her to where he was working. She tiptoed as gracefully as she could manage on dry patches to him.

He grabbed her and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Nah, I'm taking a day off today."  

Not letting go, he motioned with his free arm at the pine tree's trunk and the the pile of of branches.

"I've got a tree and a cat and a woman that can't wait."