Follow your Dreams chapter 3

Follow your Dreams chapter 3



"Camilla, there are privacy concerns here," the doctor stated clearly. I assumed I had just put her job at risk. Now I was fucking up a whole family.

This what you no can control? Mama yelled, ignoring the doctor and pointing at the 'Hospice' sign on his door. I saw her eyes straining, a mix of anger and fear.

"Camilla, we don't..." I cut off the doctor. I was in so deep I might as well pull the dirt on top of me.

"Lucia's mother," I informed the doctor quietly. His eyes went wide and I saw a mixture of concern and compassion as he shifted his look between Mama and me.

Use my office, the doctor judiciously offered. He held the door open and I entered, praying Mama wouldn't follow. God didn't listen and I heard the door close. Painfully, I turned to face Mama. There were tears streaming down her cheeks.

She love you, Mama choked out, she know you maybe not stay, but she not know why. Mama held back a sob. She think she change her mind. This tears her heart away Mama fell apart in front of me. I did the only thing I could do; I held her and tried to remain strong. It was hopeless.

"I'm sorry," I quietly apologized, "I wasn't strong enough to stop it. I kept putting it off and it only got worse. I wish I never walked into that club." Mama broke out of my arms.

"No," Mama stated firmly, "she not dance no more." It was firm in Mama's mind, something that would never change. She not owes that lady money. You did that. Never take back. Mama wiped her eyes. She better off even if God call you she was nodding her head as she wrapped her mind around the problem. She rose up on her toes and kissed my cheek. You tell her...today or I am. It wasn't a threat it was a mother protecting her child. I responded the only way I could.

Yes, Mama, I answered. My stomach was already doing flip flops in response to the task.

Go, Mama instructed, I have office to clean and I think better when I clean. It was an awful ride home incredibly too short.

One time, at fourteen, my parents had left me home alone for the weekend. Like a typical young man, I tried to impress a girl by taking her for a ride in my mother's car. Inevitably, I smashed in the front quarter panel while attempting to park. No license and no way to explain how I knew where they hid the keys. Until this day, I had thought waiting for them to get home was the worst moment in my life. I knew now, that episode was a cake walk.

Lucia was humming to herself as she repaired the plaster in what would become the family room. We were working from room to room, repairing the necessary damage done by the new wiring and plumbing. I hated that she was so happy. I was breathing heavily as I entered the room. My pulse was through the roof.

"Have fun at the bank?" Lucia asked naively. The lies were done; only pain was left.

I lied, I didn't go to the bank, I responded, trying to remain calm and level. I thought I might throw up. Lucia paused her plastering for a moment, not looking at me.

Oh? Lucia responded after a second. She returned to her repairs. I sensed she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear more. I guess I wasn't as calm and level as I thought.

I saw your mama at the hospital, I said, inching forward. I was stalling again and hated myself for it.

You visited Mama? Lucia asked. She still wasn't looking at me and the plastering was getting quicker and sloppier. I sucked it up, and out it came.

"I have a tumor," I stated bluntly, "I've known for a while. It's incurable, six months maybe a year." I no longer wanted to vomit. I wanted to shoot myself. Lucia just kept plastering, never turning to look at me. She was plastering over what was already done. Lucia? I pleaded.

When Lucia turned I thought I would die. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She dropped her trowel, the mud pan and ran. I didn't have the heart to chase after. I heard her pickup start and leave at a high speed. I closed my eyes and prayed she would find her way safely to Mama. I no longer wanted the house or my six months. I called Mama.

She left I said quickly, I don't think she's coming back.

I sorry, Todd, Mama said, I so sorry. I knew what she meant. She was sorry for everything I had just lost. I hung up the phone, never saying goodbye. I was back to knowing no one. I could always pay Doctor Collins for another hour. I could talk end-of-life at a hundred dollars an hour.

Fuck me! I yelled at the world. I returned to a dream I no longer cared about. At least it had an end game. Tasks that needed doing something is better than nothing. I picked up the trowel, mud pan and went to work. I didn't sleep that night, but all the rooms were repaired.

My heart was hurting when the sun came up. I packed away the plaster and cleaned the tools. Everywhere I went in the house, I kept expecting to see Lucia humming away. I distracted myself by calling a window company. The leech was at the house two hours later. I had a friend until I handed him the check. It was pitiful how I hemmed and hawed and stalled about models and quantities. I ended up picking the wood framed, double hung windows. What did I care about long term maintenance? They looked the best and went with the character of the house. My new buddy, Frank, went around measuring. He promised that all except the bathroom windows would be replaced on Monday. The bathroom windows were an odd dimension and required special milling.

I handed Frank my check and away went my newest friend. I spent the day painting the porch. I decided (Actually it was Lucia's suggestion.) the uprights needed a lighter color than the rest of the exterior. When I was done, I realized I had added even more of her to the house. She was right, more character and more charming. God, I missed her.

I spent Sunday tearing out the old kitchen floor. Someone, long ago, had installed some type of linoleum, that had long-since yellowed, and they had used copious amounts of glue. I ended up replacing the plywood flooring. Strangely, I couldn't match the thickness of the old boards so none of them could be saved. I put the tile sample that Lucia had picked on the floor. I measured the floor and decided to pick up the tiles on Tuesday. Lucia would own the kitchen as well. I slept that night.

It was the pounding that woke me the next morning. I looked at my phone. It was almost 10:00. Damn, I had overslept again. I realized the window company installers must be frantic. I quickly dressed and headed to the door. I was surprised to see them already in the house one guy was pounding on a shim while checking a level, while another window was being hoisted in place by another worker. I thought I must have left the door unlocked. The workers nodded at me, but basically ignored my confused look. I headed out the door, looking for the supervisor.

The supervisor was at the back of his truck, arguing with prettiest sight in the world. I stood stunned as Lucia refused two of the windows. The seals had already been compromised and there was no way they were going in the house. I stared as the supervisor gave in and placed them back on the truck, promising new ones when the bathroom windows came in at the end of the week. Lucia saw me then, standing on her porch. Her face was questioning. I smiled and the world lit up with hers. She walked up to me as I stood stupidly, trying to figure out what it meant for her to be here. I want the year, Lucia said. I closed the distance and pulled her to me.

It's already yours, I said. We kissed under a deluge of whistles from the installers. They would never understand what Lucia had given me. Her heart was more valuable than a hundred homes, more precious than a full life. She was my happiness and I prayed I could be hers.

I need to speak with Doctor Collins, Lucia said softly, combing her fingers through my hair. I loved her touch. I loved her just being here. He won't talk to me without your permission.

I'll tell you anything you want to know, I said hesitantly. I was not enamored with the idea, but I couldn't hide anything any more. She smiled at me. I would jump off a cliff for that smile.

I need to know everything, even the bad parts you won't tell me, Lucia said carefully. I felt like the supervisor putting the windows back on the truck. It was a one-sided negotiation and the only way to win was to surrender. I conceded. I sat down on the steps and called Doctor Collins' office.

Lucia was a designer possessed. For an ex-stripper, she had a commanding sense of style. If I had my way, I would have painted the whole interior one neutral color. I thought back to that first night at the Pleasure Palace, when I desired one thing and she slowly turned it into what I really needed. Why this woman wasn't commanding armies of thralls, I had no idea. I simply followed her around the house as she chose colors. I nodded my agreement, writing down her decisions and taping small paper paint samples to the text. There was little doubt she would own every room.


To be continued