The Minnesota Candidate (5 page)

Forty minutes later, Shari hung up the phone.
She laughed to herself; had she really thought she would just pick
up the phone and actually speak to a celebrity like Ty Pendleton?
That had been a childlike fantasy and totally unrealistic. Still,
she had struck gold and she was brimming with excitement. Yes, it
could be done. Better yet, Mr. Pendleton’s assistant had supplied
her with a wealth of information, from the city and state offices
that she would need to contact, all the way down to the builders
and contractors that the show had used when they were filming in
Minnesota. Best of all, the man had even given Shari an email
address and telephone number for an experienced coordinator, Chona
Nederski, and he assured Shari that she could handle the job.

Once again, Shari began making lists and placing
phone calls. Every few hours, Tom would call and give her an update
on how his day was going. Supposedly, they were finished with the
legalities. The insurance adjustor had seemed to know what he was
doing and as they filed the claim, the fire inspector arrived and
probed what was left of the house; which admittedly, wasn’t much.
Somehow, he had been able to confirm that the fire had started on
the stove and he told Tom’s mother that she was lucky to be alive.
There were more tears, but Tom said that his mom seemed to be much
better today. During his last call, Tom sounded apprehensive on the
phone. They were out buying necessities and he was worried that his
mom might be going overboard. “That’s impossible,” assured Shari.
“You buy that poor woman anything she needs; do you hear me? This
is an important step and it’ll show her how much we love her.”

“Oh honey,” said Tom, “do you really mean that?
I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel. She’s buying a lot of
stuff. I just don’t want you having a heart attack when I show you
the receipts.”

Shari laughed at that, but inside she was filled
with trepidation. “Don’t worry about it. In fact, I want you to
make a day of it. Things here are going full-speed ahead. I’m so
excited. I just need some time to finishing tying this all
together.”

“Tying it all together; you’re so
punny
.”

Shari laughed at that. She hadn’t meant to make
the pun, but it had fit and it made her appear to be wittier than
she actually felt. “Can we plan on having dinner at five? Do you
think that will give you two enough time?”

Tom assured Shari that they would have more than
enough time. He went on to say that he understood that she was
working on something very important. He and his mom would stay out
of her hair. She hung up, feeling good about their conversation.
After putting her list together, Shari called her attorney and
filled him in on what she was up against. Her attorney, Stan
Menkowitz, also twice divorced, was very sympathetic to her plight
and promised to move mountains to make this project happen. Shari
thanked him and forwarded him all of her information by email. At
1:30 that afternoon, Stan called her back to say that all of the
pieces were in place. Demolition of Doris Picacello’s house would
begin in two days at precisely 8:00. He also said that Chona
Nederski was at that very moment, in her car and driving out to the
lake with house plans for Shari to consider.

Shari hung up the telephone, feeling
overwhelmed, but proud of her accomplishments. She had taken Doris’
bull by the horns and had wrestled it to the ground. She ate a late
lunch, a frozen dinner she cooked up in the microwave, and had a
glass of Asti Spumante to celebrate.

Chona Nederski arrived and hit the ground
running. She was short in stature with what Shari thought were
beautiful Polynesian features, from her big brown eyes to her long,
silky black hair. She talked so fast that Shari had to stop her,
several times, and ask her to slow down. “You don’t understand,”
said Chona, “time is a luxury that we don’t have. Try and keep up,
okay?”

At first, Shari was put off by Chona’s brusque
attitude, but she slowly began to understand that the woman knew
exactly what she was doing. There were decisions to make, hundreds
of them, and they had to be made before they could begin
construction. There were materials to order, crews to contract,
variances to be obtained, and even a few palms to grease. Shari
found herself trying to crawl inside Doris’ head, something she
loathed doing, trying to think what her mother in-law might like
when it came to floor plans, countertops, bathroom fixtures, color
schemes. Everything needed to be hammered out before Chona walked
out that door. Even then, second and third choices needed to be
decided upon, in case something was out of stock or they couldn’t
find an installer.

“I think my head is about to explode,” said
Shari, pouring herself another glass of Asti. “Would you like a
glass?”

“I’d like an entire bottle,” said Chona, “and
I’ll take one just as soon as we finish the final walk through.
We’ve got work to do, Shari. Keep your eye on the prize.”

That was when Shari finally understood what she
was up against. She gave up trying to decide what Doris would like,
for it was quite possible that she was going to hate everything
about her new home. Shari made decisions and called the shots
according to her own tastes and preferences, which turbocharged the
process. Chona was thrilled at her transformation, unaware that her
comments had spurred the change in Shari.

They plowed ahead, discussing landscaping
options and windows and doors and siding and roofing. Shari stabbed
her finger at her choices. “This one, that one, that one, this
one,” she spat, becoming almost automated. Chona began to laugh.
“You have no idea what a breath of fresh air you are,” she said, as
they drew down to the final phases. “I only wish my other clients
had as much taste and were as easy going as you are. You’ve made my
job so much easier.”

Twenty minutes later, Chona was driving through
the gate. Shari smiled, feeling better than she had felt in years.
She poured herself another glass of wine and took it outside to
enjoy. The late afternoon sun was hidden by a blanket of clouds,
but it was warm outside and the bay was filled with fishing boats,
jostling for position to catch the evening bite. Shari watched
them, still smiling, wishing she were out on the water. She loved
to fish and she realized that she and Tom had never even talked
about that. There was so much she still didn’t know about him, and
he of her, and she was excited for them to be able to resume their
relationship. The sound of the gate buzzer startled her. She
checked her watch, it read 4:45. She chuckled as she ran up to the
house to buzz Tom inside. The day had gotten away from her, but she
had accomplished much and she felt pride in that.

She walked back out the patio door and watched
as the Mercedes appeared at the crest of the hill. Behind that, a
large moving van appeared, which was followed by another, and
another after that. The big trucks were like moving billboards,
advertising what stores they hailed from. Shari now understood what
Tom had been getting at on the telephone. She swallowed back her
anger, watching the big trucks as they lumbered down the driveway.
Shari finished her glass of Asti and held it up in the air. “Bring
it,” she said.

Chapter 4

Doris motioned to the big house as they topped
the hill. “I can’t wait for you to be living inside that grand
house,” she said. “You must be very excited.”

Tom groaned. “Ma, would you knock it off? That
decision isn’t up to me. You know what I told you, Shari has had
the place locked up since her folks were killed.” Tom’s cellphone
began to chirp and he fished it out of his pocket and checked the
number. “Dang it, Ma, it’s Lumpy again. This is the tenth time he’s
called since you gave him my number. What am I supposed to say to
him?”

“I have no idea, Tommy. He is your cousin.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s your cousin, Ma. He’s also a
jerk.”

“Oh, but look at that glorious house. I would be
just dying to get in there, if I was you. Just imagine what’s
inside there.”

Tom dropped his cellphone back into his pocket
and looked up at the big house. His mother was right; he was dying
to get inside of that place. Still, he didn’t want her to know that
and he didn’t reply. Shari would allow him inside when she felt the
time was right. He would just have to bide his time and that was
all there was to it. He checked his rearview mirrors and watched
the trucks. He hoped Shari wouldn’t think they were all full to the
back. She had told him to let his mom buy what she thought she
needed. If she was mad, she would only have herself to blame. At
least, he hoped she would feel that way.

“Look at me, Tommy We need to talk.”

“We’ve been talking all day, Ma.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t want to live
under the same roof as the two of you. I know how newlyweds are and
it hasn’t been that long that I’ve forgotten what newlyweds do. I
didn’t just fall off the back of a truck. You know that I’m a light
sleeper.”

“Ma, I get your point. Can we just talk about
something else? This is creepin’ me out.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? My God,
Tommy, think about it. Do you want me in the next room when you and
Shari go to bed?”

“Stop it, Ma,” said Tom. “No, you don’t have to
spell it out for me. I read you loud and clear. I’ll talk to Shari
about it, okay?”

“I think the sooner the better. Maybe I should
wait out here while you go inside and talk to her. Newlyweds should
have their privacy. I’ve always said that and you know that I have.
And if push comes to shove, I mean if she doesn’t want to leave her
home, you can tell Shari that I would be fine in that big house,
all by myself. All I would need is a few rooms.”

Tom sighed and parked the Mercedes in the
driveway. He then pressed the garage door opener and the big door
began to lift. “Come on, Ma,” he said. “We have to figure out what
to do with all of your stuff.”

Doris stepped out of the SUV and she closed the
door. She met Tom at the back of the vehicle and they both began
gathering up shopping bags. Tom waved at the truck drivers and
helpers and pointed to the open garage. Doris glowered at them.
“Those men had better be careful with my things. I hope they know
how much it cost.”

“I’m sure they do, Ma. You did buy it from the
places they work at.”

Shari walked out to greet them and after
exchanging a quick kiss with Tom, one that drew a sour face from
Doris, Shari offered to help with the bags. “I didn’t know you were
going to finish your shopping in one day,” she said. “Good
job.”

“Oh, but I’m not finished,” said Doris, staring
up at the twin turrets of the big house. “Ever since I was a little
girl, I’ve always wanted to live in a house with turrets.”

“Ya know,” said Shari, conversationally, “I used
to have that same dream. I really did, but when it actually came
true it was no big deal.”

“Maybe not to you, it wasn’t, but to me it would
be like the highpoint of my life.”

Tom led the way and the three of them began
carrying Doris’ purchases into the house. He could feel his cheeks
growing red and he wished his mother would stop dropping hints. She
was about as subtle as an earthquake.

“Well, it won’t happen in that house,” said
Shari. “Not while I’m still alive. Nope, that was my parent’s house
and it’ll always be my parent’s house. I’m kind of funny like
that.”

Doris frowned and gave Tom a hard look. “I’ve
heard of people like you,” she said. “I guess they’ve come a long
way in treating your condition.”

“Stop it, Ma,” said Tom, knowing this train had
already jumped the tracks.

“I didn’t know they started calling respect a
condition,” said Shari. “I guess I need to start watching more
television.”

Tom was just about to scream when he saw a
familiar face at the back of one of the trucks. “Hey Ma,” he said,
motioning toward the truck with a pair of white shopping bags.
“Doesn’t that guy look like Shifty Sam?”

Doris and Shari both stopped to look and the
figure began waving at them. “Why, that is Sam,” said Doris. “I
didn’t know he worked for Slumberland.”

“I didn’t know it, either,” replied Tom,
watching his mother’s cousin as he jogged over to them. Despite his
past, or perhaps because of it, Shifty Sam was still in the prime
of his life. Exceedingly fit, he had once confessed to spending six
hours a day at the gym. He wore a tight white t-shirt shirt over a
pair of blue jeans, and with his slicked-back pompadour, sculpted
sideburns and pencil-thin moustache, he looked like a time traveler
from the 1950’s.

Doris smacked her lips. “You know, Sam and I
aren’t actually blood relatives,” she said.

Tom wasn’t about to comment on that. He was
confused. The Slumberland driver and helper were already carrying a
box spring into the garage. He and Shari exchanged a wary look as
Shifty Sam began to slow up. “Hey Fat Tommy,” he said, taking a
toothpick out of his mouth and pointing it at Tom. “How are you’?”
Nice day we’re having, huh?”

Tom shrugged. “I’m good, Sam.” he said. “What
are you doing out here?”

“I’m getting to that part,” said Shifty Sam.
“Excuse me, Shari, Doris, it’s certainly a nice day we’re having,
isn’t it? Here, let me help you with those. They look heavy.”

“Sam,” said Tom, “you didn’t answer my
question.”

Sam hung his head. “My car broke down on the
freeway. I’m flat broke, Tommy, what was I supposed to do? I’m
sorry, you want me to leave?”

“We’ll get your car towed to a shop and have it
repaired,” said Shari, nodding her head. “In the meantime, we’re
about to have dinner. Are you hungry?”

Sam rubbed his stomach and smiled. “That would
be very nice of you,” he said, “but I wouldn’t want to put you
out.”