"I'm not even kidding."

Monday, December 6, 2004

Sunday had passed quickly. After teaching Sunday School with OLeif, practicing with the choir for the hanging of the greens, and then singing in church, Collette took off with Mom for a house tour down in the city with Grandma Combs, Aunt Petunia, and Lucia. It would be in Shaw neighborhood, a total of thirteen old homes and bungalows, refurbished and ready to be toured.

The skies were darker and the wind was biting cold as they set out and met the others at the YWCA off of Kingshighway where Lucia had just finished her synchronized swimming competition. She had received a bronze in the singles event for forms. Not bad after having had a bit of a break from practice.

Colette liked the look of the YWCA building inside – small cropped hallways, little green plants, soda machines here and there, and a big glass outlook high above the pool where there was a candy machine of large fruit-shaped sour balls.

Then it was on to the tour. They discussed many things, such as how Lucia would want her wedding one day after she was wealthy from her own design company, and being on the screen, after saving the world through medicine as a pediatrician.

“So what kind of flowers would you have?” Collette asked her, referring to the wedding.

“I don’t even know. But I don’t really like roses… And the reception would be on a glass-bottomed boat by the beach, so everyone can see what’s going on down there.”

She went on to say that it would be awesome to have the wedding in a tropical garden, or Japanese, or even better – on the beach.

And then it was on to discussing how they both loved cheese and bread, and which kinds.

“Oh, Colby,” Lucia truly gushed, “and mozzarella.”

“Yes,” Collette agreed, “oh, and provolone. That’s the best.”

“Yes. And American – only on sandwiches.” Lucia went on, “You know what, I just want cheese and black olives for my birthday. I’m not even kidding.”

“OK, Collette, you know what to get her for Christmas now,” Aunt Petunia laughed as she turned around.

“I’ll remember that,” Collette agreed.

She would too – and tie a red bow around a package of Colby, a can of black olives, and a baguette maybe.

And so back to the tour… at the first building, a lovely Victorian-style piece with a stone tower… they met a little bird on the lawn, puffed into a ball, and sleeping.

“I’m gonna chase it!” Lucia started toward the plump little lump on the wet lawn.

“No you don’t, Lucia. Leave the poor bird alone,” Aunt Petnuia called after her.

“Lucia, you always chase the birds,” Collette laughed at her.

“Yes, she does,” Aunt Petunia agreed. “She’s such a goofball.”

All the homes turned out to be lovely. In one, a large picture of lily-pads and white lilies hung above a couch downstairs.

“I love those lily-pads; they’re so happy,” Lucia thought aloud, clutching her program up to her chin.

“Never met an angry one in my life,” Mom laughed.

“No…” Lucia agreed, “I want to see all the little froggies jumping on them… Oh!”

And something else had caught her eye.

It really was quite splendid – the old, old neighborhoods with tall ancient trees, and one with an old ginko, as Grandma pointed out. Many mewing cats walked the sidewalks and the old Spanish tiles and Victorian staircases, Christmas decorations, and old Gothic styled ceilings were all marvelous.

Of course, Lucia’s favorite boasted an electric orange hall upstairs with pale, pale lavender squares painted in sequence down the side. At the end lay a room painted lime green and in the other sat a screeching parrot that nearly snapped off Lucia’s finger through the cage. Below, the young owner in a burgundy silk shirt and sandy-blonde fohawk proudly displayed his grand piano from the Philadelphia Philharmonic, as well as the flatware on his dining room table from the “2001 Space Odyssey.” Very modern and contemporary, but unique…

The other unconventional part of the tour was in another home’s basement, walls and floors and ceiling of flat white mottled marble, sharp and clean, with tight halls, a sauna, jacuzzi, and a sink of glittering gold/bronze glass.

However, the others were quite period, and dressed in toille, flowers, Renaissance pieces, grand fireplaces, meticulous woodwork in cherry and walnut on doors and walls, and the wonderful must of an old home, mixed with the smell of chocolate oatmeal cookies and hot chocolate from house to house.

The ladies were enthralled and kept taking notes on the the particularly inspiring ideas. One fabulous staircase lined with poinsettias branched off and met at the top where an octagonal hall wrapped around the top of the stair case where eight doors stood. One was open to what was once a small conservatory. Another might have been a library at one time. And above the staircase itself was a stained glass skylight in roses and cherubs, over one hundred years old. It was all quite fantastic.

In the final house, a foreign couple owned the site, the man a little hobbit-like fellow with penny loafers, baggy gray pants, a bright red shirt, and a gold chain around his neck. His wife was a head taller and thin in all black and a heavy laughing accent. Perhaps they were Bulgarian.

And as the rains came and evening approached, they leaned against the pillars of that final home, waiting for their shuttle. Then it was on to the St. Louis Bread Company for soup and sandwiches; sadly, to Lucia’s and Collette’s dismay, they were clean out of bread bowls. Naturally on a cold rainy night, soup would be a popular item.

While there, they heard from Grandma of the disastrous wedding that she attended in Kentucky, of the ceremony by the lake and a dead tree, of the tuna fish sandwiches for the reception, and how Grandma and her friend prepared the rest by dashing to Wal-Mart for white table cloths, summer sausage and canned ham to be sliced on Grandma’s cosmetic case for a cutting board, and served, and “Oh!” Grandma rolled her eyes – of the different shades of hunter green all the groomsmen wore, and of that poor girl who had only her maid of honor in the end, after the three other attendants dropped out, and of the one redeeming quality (the homemade wedding gown of lace that was all in all, satisfactory). It truly was a sad, almost comic story.

On the way back on Kingshighway, they passed old shops from the early days with living quarters above, little stores still around from the 40’s and much earlier… old diners, and a highly popular old restaurant, dark and brick and wood – Uncle Bill’s Pancakes. Grandma and Aunt Petunia began commenting on how good it was.

“Yeah,” Lucia was saying, “they have something called Alaskan pancakes, or something, and they take like five pancakes and stack them on top of each other with whipped cream and chocolate chips…”

“And ice cream,” Aunt Petunia chimed in.

They would clearly have to try it out sometime – perhaps on their next outing.

Then the evening over, and back home it was to the Bible study that was just ending, with kids running around with plastic swords and heavy-duty plastic machine guns for their army. And then she and OLeif finally left for the apartment with one of the deadly but fresh and beautiful poinsettias from church.

Monday brought a heavier cold than Sunday, and Collette did not feel much like rising out of bed at first, from the groggy cloud around her. Yet as the morning progressed, she began to feel slightly better, only moving more slowly and readying herself for the details of the day.

There would be a good solid several hours of work with Joe and Rose on their term papers and math, as they were approaching their December holidays. Then there would be college considerations with Carrie-Bri, as well as the Spanish. But it was good to give suggestions and think things through with all of them. She liked watching them become inspired with new ideas that they often snatched out of the blue.

OLeif, meanwhile, was excited by what he had heard in church and youth group and Bible study the previous morning. He was encouraged by what he heard.

“You know,” he was saying on the way home that night, “I start to understand what Paul means when he talks about ‘buffeting his body’ – I want to study more, and exercise, eat well, learn and get together another Bible study. I want to do everything I can for the edification of the spirit.”

He would talk often like this, rambling on and on about things of that nature and so many others. Collette liked to hear him talk about what was on his mind. It was good to know that he thought about such things often and enjoyed discussing them with her. As with everything, there were times he talked a trifle long, and Collette began to zone her thoughts away to other things, unconsciously. But his intentions were always good, and she knew it.