There were too many people there. They were getting in the way of each other. Still, it was amazing how much work was getting done. There were little cliques of people everywhere, speaking among themselves. I know there must have been over 40 adults there, and at least a dozen kids. There was an entire contingent working just on the property, mowing, cutting brush, gathering up bottles and cans from the yard.
For the kids it was a festival. There were snacks, and games, and a huge yard to run around in. I was still amazed to find that Beth and Debbie were sticking together running the kid show. It kind of made a sick sense. It kept them away from the cattiness near the carport; they both loved kids, and I’m sure it was a big distraction for them. It also kept them away from the lustful gazes of most of the men, heading off a lot of trouble before it ever happened.
Let me say once and for all, that I was pretty useless. The Howard gang, Joe and his family, were in control, and seemed to coordinate most of the actual work being done. Whatever else, they did a wonderful thing for me that weekend, beyond anything I had earned or could hope to repay.
I did almost no work. I had little say in how things were done. I went from group to group, nominally supervising, in reality being told what they were doing. Numerous trips were made to the store, and I passed out cash like water. Twice I sent out my bank machine card on trips, until I’d withdrawn my limit.
Plumbing, wiring, framing, drywall, cleaning, replacing windows, installing fixtures, there was an incredible transformation going on under that roof. I felt like a cross between an Amish barn raising and the video of the world’s fastest house building.
It was mid-morning when Joe’s mom finally took mercy on me, and pulled me to one side. She was sort of the matriarch of the whole women’s contingent, and when she had my ear, everyone else stayed out of the way.
“Jack, Jack, Jack. What are we going to do with you? Hmmm?” She shook her head, looking at me like some kid who had been caught in a fib.
I tried out my boyish charm, and sheepish grin. No luck. It earned me a cuff on the head.
“None of that. I’ve had eight boys of my own pulling that crap for over 20 years now. Now how did you picture this whole scenario working out, Jack?”
“I, uh, guess I didn’t really think it out. I just thought we’d live together, sort of as friends with, well, certain side benefits. We’d solve some problems for each other, and keep it pretty private. So I guess that part didn’t work out too well, huh?”
“Did you really expect no emotional attachment to those women? What about the kids? You thought you could live with them and not grow close to them? And how were they supposed to view you? Damn it, Jack, you can’t let your pants do your thinking for you.
“Listen to me. Right now you have a couple of situations you need to deal with. First, you’ve got to reel in your friend Karen over there. She’s really not helping the situation at all, and if you want this to die down, you’ve got to get her under control. Second, you need to talk to Cathy, and work out whatever’s eating her. She feels especially hurt for some reason, which has some people wondering, in and of itself. You’re not doing anything with her, are you?”
That question hit me from out of left field. “God! Of course not! Joe is probably my best friend. I wouldn’t do that. I love that whole family.”
“Well, thank heavens for that. No matter. You’ve still got to talk to her. You don’t want to be on her bad side, she will hold a grudge forever, and can be pretty spiteful and vindictive. I love her, but you don’t want her mad at you. Finally, you’ve really been unfair to Beth over there, and you need to fix that. She’s just a kid, and doesn’t deserve any of this.” She caught her breath. I guessed she was looking for a response.
“I know. I’ve been stupid. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just wasn’t thinking it all through.”
Mrs. Howard stood up to leave, then leaned over and whispered to me. “You might also try to keep your dick in your pants today. We don’t need any more stunts like yesterday, Ok?” She gave my cheek a motherly pinch. I swear she could crack walnuts with that grip. I hoped I wasn’t bleeding.
I’m sure I blushed a nice deep crimson, as I nodded my assent.
Ok, first things first. I hadn’t said more than a dozen words to Karen in the last two days, and it appeared that she was definitely firmly ensconced in the eye of this hurricane.
I managed to peel her away from everyone else, and convinced her to take a walk with me. She was adamant she was doing nothing wrong, but after 10 minutes of heart-to-heart, I convinced her to at least try to stop antagonizing Cathy, whose family was the key to getting our home into a livable condition. She saw the reasoning in that, and promised to do her best. Whatever that was. It took a great deal of effort for me to get her to agree to leave the meal plans to Cathy, and work with the yard people for a while.
Buoyed by my success, I decided to attack what I perceived as the most challenging prospect, soothing the ruffled feathers of my once-good-friend Cathy. I approached Joe for any insight into how I might go about this, and if he knew what was the biggest problem. He just laughed at me and wished me good luck.
Even Cathy wasn’t prepared for the turnout we had that day, and she was busy directing efforts to prepare a lunch and dinner for a troop this size. My idea to order in pizza was met with cold disdain, and I decided to stay away from any more suggestions. They decided to stick with their idea of cold cuts and sandwiches for lunch, and to just fortify their supplies. Through insistence and near begging, I convinced Cathy to allow me to drive her to get the stuff. She’d pick it out, and I’d charge it all, since I was running a little low on cash (at least that was the excuse I used.) We used her truck, since my car wasn’t good for carrying much more than two people.
The atmosphere in that truck was absolutely frigid. I’ve been in warmer freezers. Every attempt at conversation on the way to the supermarket was ignored or parried. We did manage to get to the store and make the purchases without any bloodshed.
On the return trip, I decided to take an even more direct approach.
“Cathy. Please talk to me. I hate this. You must know how much I love you and your family. I don’t understand why you hate me now.” I tried to keep the whining out of my voice.
“Fuck you, you pig.”
I wasn’t prepared for the vehemence in her tone. I pulled over, and turned to address her directly.
“Ok, maybe I am a pig. And maybe I’m stupid, and making some bad decisions. But why are you so angry with me? Why?”
“Yes, you are stupid, and I guess that only your dick is doing any thinking for you,” she sneered.