Chapter 8: Passion Returns

It was Saturday and the driveway was filled with stuff from the house. Greg walked around looking at all of the stuff his wife had put out to sell. He couldn’t believe how much she had taken out of the house. All of the exercise equipment that had been sitting idle in the basement was lined up along the edge of the driveway. Knickknacks from the shelves in the formal living room and the family room filled three tables. There was furniture and other huge items that had been tucked away here and there in the house.

He went over to her chair and looked around. Even though he had helped carry everything out, he was amazed. He said, “Wow. Where did all this stuff come from?”

“From just about every room in the house,” she answered. She looked over at the furniture knowing that no one had sat in those particular pieces in five years. She was the only one who ever looked at the knickknacks and that was when she dusted them every week. Every item in the driveway required her to do something every week and she had come to hate them.

“What about that all that bedroom furniture?”

“That used to be the guest room,” she said. She laughed and said, “In all the years we’ve lived here we’ve only had guests three times and that was when my parents came during the Christmas holidays.”

“What are you going to do with the guest room?”

“I’ll close the door and never go in it again,” she answered.

“What if we have guests?”

“I’ll vacuum the floor and put in an inflatable bed,” she answered while making a cutting motion through the air with her hand. Every week she had gone in that room and vacuumed the floor and dusted the furniture. It had been a waste of her time and she was done wasting her time on that house.

“Or you could turn it into a love dungeon,” he joked.

“Don’t say that too loud, you’ll give Harry ideas.”

A guy driving an old beat up pickup truck pulled up in front of the house. He got out and wandered around for ten minutes. Sharon watched him for a minute and then turned to Greg.

She said, “I don’t know how much of this stuff we’ll sell, but I plan to get rid of it today. Anything that isn’t sold is going to the Goodwill.”

“Okay,” Greg said. He didn’t care about any of that junk anyway. Selling it, giving it to charity, or throwing it away was all the same to him.

The man wandered over to the tables with knickknacks. He picked up a few items and examined them carefully. After a few minutes, he came over to Sharon.

“You’ve got all of this stuff under priced. I’ll give you a thousand for everything on the tables. I’d feel guilty giving you any less.”

Stunned, Sharon stared at the guy. She had figured that if she sold everything on the tables she’d get a hundred dollars. She looked at Greg and then back at the guy.

She said, “Okay.”

The guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. He pulled out ten one hundred dollar bills and handed them to her. He wasn’t going to tell her that he’d probably get twenty times that for the goods.

He handed her a card and said, “If you decide to do this again, I suggest that you bring it by my auction house. You’ll get a fair market price for your goods less the ten percent auction fee.”

She accepted the cash and the card. Feeling a little ridiculous, she put the cash in the little cash box. Looking over the card, she said, “Thank you. I do have more stuff that I want to get rid of.”

“Whatever you don’t sell today, bring it by Thursday, and we’ll put it up for auction,” he said. Looking over at the tables, he asked, “Do you have any boxes and newspaper?”

“Sure,” she said.

“I’ll go get it,” Greg said and ran off to the garage. He returned with boxes and newspapers.

Sharon and Greg helped the man wrap up each individual item and pack it away in a box. The man worked slowly and methodically. With each item, he took a moment to examine it before wrapping it in newspaper. He carried the boxes over to the truck and put them in the back with care.

After the man had driven off, Sharon pulled the bills out of the box and handed them over to Greg. She said, “That’s the down payment on a car for Harry. Why don’t you get him and go look at some cars?”

“Are you sure?” Greg asked. He had been waiting for the perfect time to talk with her about getting Harry a car.

“Yes, I’m sure. Get him a nice used car,” she said. Looking over at the items scattered across the driveway, she said, “I don’t care what it takes to get him a good car, just do it. I feel so guilty.”

“I know what you mean,” Greg said, “I felt like I had been stabbed in the stomach when he told me. I couldn’t believe it. I never gave him a chance to tell us for two whole months. We should have taken him out for a celebration dinner the day he got his learner’s permit.”

“I know.”

“I bought my VW Bug the day I got my permit and fixed it up so that I could take my driver’s test in it,” Greg said. Shaking his head, he said, “I really loved that car.”

“The famous Lady Bug.”

“Yeah.”

She looked at him for a minute and then said, “I’ve never heard you talk about the BMW with that same longing in your voice.”

“It was my first car.”

“Go get your son his first car,” Sharon said with a smile.

Greg knocked on the door. Inside his bedroom, Harry stared at the door wondering who would knock on it. Usually, if someone wanted him they just bellowed. He went over and opened it. Surprised to find his father at the door, he asked, “What?’

Smiling at the surprised reaction of his son, Greg said, “Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go look for a car?”

“A car?” Harry asked.

“Yes. I figure we have enough time before your date to find a good car for you,” Greg said. He turned away and then turned back, “I’ll be waiting in the den.”

Harry nearly tripped over the clothes on the floor as he raced to his closet to find a clean shirt. He paused and gave a little boxer’s punch to the air while he shouted, “Yeah!”

Curious, Cathy stuck her head in his door and asked, “What was all that about?”

“He’s taking me to buy a car!”

“No shit?”

“No shit!” He pulled a shirt out of the closet and started to put it on.

“Wow!” Cathy said. She looked down the hall and said, “Things are changing around here.”

“I know what you mean,” he said. He looked in his closet and then down at the floor of his room. He realized that he was going to have to wash clothes tomorrow or he’d be going to school wearing dirty clothes.

“If I don’t see you later, good luck on your date.”

Harry paused buttoning his shirt and said, “Thanks.”

“I imagine that Mom is going to need some help with the garage sale,” Cathy said. She took a deep breath and while shrugging her shoulders said, “I guess I’ll go out there for a while.”

Harry knocked on the door feeling his stomach in his throat. His father had warned to expect anything when meeting the parents and not to let them rattle him. That didn’t make him any less nervous. He was pleased when Lisa answered the door. She was wearing a nice blue dress. He didn’t know that it was the dress she usually wore to church on Sundays.

Nervous about her first date, she said, “Hello, Harry. My parents want to meet you and then we can go.”

“Hello, Lisa. I’m more than happy to meet your parents,” Harry said trying not to act too nervous. His father had given him advice on how to deal with her parents. He was to address them as Mr. and Mrs. McCullum. He should shake the father’s hand while looking him in the eye. He should take the mother’s hand and bend slightly over it rather than shake it.

Lisa led him to their family room and almost turned around as soon as she saw what her father was doing. Her father, wearing some sort of military jacket, was watching a hunting show.

Standing up, he turned to Harry and asked, “Do you like hunting?”

“I’ve never been hunting, Sir,” he answered.

“I love hunting. There’s nothing like taking aim and watching the beast drop to the ground after you’ve pulled the trigger,” he said smiling at Harry.

Lisa looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. She was convinced that her father hated her.

Swallowing, Harry said, “I’m sure there’s nothing like doing that, Sir.”

The man held out his hand and said, “I’m Jack McCullum.”

“I’m Harry Anders, Sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCullum,” he said accepting the hand and looking her father in the eye. He tried not to flinch while images of being hunted by the big man flashed through his mind.

An older version of Lisa entered the room. She looked at her husband and wondered why he was wearing that old jacket. Terrified by what appeared to be a plot to chase away Harry, Lisa said, “This is my mother, June. Mom, this is Harry.”

Harry accepted her mother’s hand and said, “Hello, Mrs. McCullum. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her mother looked over Harry and smiled. He was a charming young man and she wasn’t sure that was entirely a good thing.

She said, “Thank you, young man. I assume that you’re taking her to the mall.”

“No, Ma’am. I’ve planned a date that should allow us a little entertainment and a chance to talk. I hope to show your daughter a very good time.”