Appliances Included
Mark Souza
Copyright 2011 by Mark Souza
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Story
Appliances Included Tidbits
About the Author
Upcoming Titles
Find Me Online
“Cupid’s Maze” Excerpt
Appliances Included
By Mark Souza
Mary Givens struggled to keep the excitement off her face so she could maintain the air of a skeptical buyer. She and her husband, Lou, followed the realtor room to room nodding and dwelling over every flaw. Whenever Mary made eye contact with Lou, he’d arch an eyebrow and give a shrewd frown as a reminder of their powwow in the car. Outside the brownstone beforehand he'd warned, “The happier we look, the more the price will go up. Keep your game face on.”
The real estate agent looked trim and professional in her red blazer and black slacks. Her smile came easily though it seemed overly rehearsed and never quite reached her eyes. She had a knack for knowing how long to spend in each room and when to back off so Mary and Lou could talk.
The tour ended in the laundry room. It was spacious with high ceilings and ample built-in cabinets. A large washer and dryer sat opposite a window looking out on the alley. The agent turned and extended an arm to draw their attention to the machines like a game show model. “All appliances are included with the house.”
“How old are they?” Mary asked.
The realtor’s smile faded a bit. “I’m not quite sure. But they are industrial quality and have been impeccably maintained.”
She swung open the dryer door for Mary’s inspection. Mary bent down and peered inside. The stainless steel drum sparkled. Her face reflected off the mirror-like surface at the back. Mary furrowed her brow. “I do worry about the energy rating of such old machines. In fact, I have concerns about the plumbing and electrical in general. Older buildings have a habit of turning into a homeowner’s nightmare. How old is this place and what’s its history?”
The agent smiled and seemed eager to answer. “The building was erected in the middle of the nineteenth century and has housed a variety of businesses. About ten years ago, it was converted into a residential dwelling. It was gutted down to the brick and built back up. All the systems, windows and insulation are modern and up to code.” Her eyes darted back and forth between Mary and Lou. “Why don’t I give you two a little time to discuss? I’ll be in the kitchen.”
As soon as the door closed and they were alone, Lou broke into a grin. Keeping his voice low he asked, “What do you think?”
Mary tried to restrain her glee. “It’s incredible, but it’s way more house than we need.”
“Yeah, but it’s half the price of places half the size. We can grow into it and we'll make a fortune once we sell.”
“Grow into it? Are you saying we can have more kids?”
Lou nodded. “Do you want the house?”
“Are you kidding?” she said. “Yes.”
Mary loaded plates and dishes from boxes into the kitchen cupboards still in disbelief that this was their new home. Hank, her four-year-old, played with Taffy on the floor. The boy ran in circles dragging a small truck on a string and the orange tabby chased behind. Hank burst into giggles whenever the cat pounced on the truck. The cat would gaze at its prize confused that it was no longer alive. It was Taffy’s confusion that tickled Hank.
Laughter came easily to her son, something she was sure he inherited from his father. The resemblance was remarkable, the dark curly hair, the olive complexion, the dimples. He was daddy’s little boy. The only parts of herself she saw in him were his blue eyes and quick, German temper.
Hank ran out of the kitchen and the cat darted after him swatting at the truck.
“Stay away from those stairs, little man,” she called.
Lou walked into the room proudly twirling a hammer on his finger like a classic movie gunslinger. He caught the hammer head in his hand and pointed the handle at her like a pistol. “Don't you fret pretty lady, he’ll be okay. I got yonder kid gate installed.” He leaned in and pecked her on the lips.
Mary wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled his body tight to hers. “You can do better, Sheriff.”
“How much better do you want?”
“I don’t know, something passionate and maybe illegal in Alabama.”
Lou gave her a crooked smile. He laced his fingers in her hair and drew her close. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Lou's stubble singed her chin as he pressed his mouth to hers. He playfully tugged at her lips with his teeth and delicately probed with his tongue. Her weight settled into his arms and it felt as though she was floating. When he pulled away she gasped for air. “Better?” he asked.
Mary opened her eyes. “Uh-huh. In fact, if you don’t follow up on that tonight, I’ll be awfully disappointed.”
She felt a tug at her jeans. A small voice called, “Mom? Mom?”
She smiled ruefully. “Are you sure you want another one?”
“Mom, Taffy's gone.”
“It's okay, she’s just hiding. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”
Hank jerked at her pant leg again. His voice rose in pitch and had an edge that usually signaling the onset of a tantrum. “Taffy's gone.”
She shot a look at Lou that was almost pleading. “Do you want to take this one? If I don’t get all this put away, we don’t get dinner.
Lou shrugged. “No problem.” He tousled his son’s hair. “So what’s up, sport?”
“Taffy dist-appeared.”
“I got that part. Why don’t you show me?” Lou reached out and Hank wrapped his hand around one of Lou’s fingers. Mary watched as the boy towed his father out of the room.
Lou returned a few minutes later carrying Hank. The boy clutched onto his father like a starfish, his face buried in Lou’s chest while he sobbed.
“I can’t find the cat,” Lou said.
“It’s here someplace,” Mary assured. “The place is a mess. It probably found someplace quiet to hole up for a while.” She searched through the boxes. “It's been a long stressful day for everyone,” she said. She found what she was looking for and handed the can of cat food to Lou in exchange for her son. “She hasn’t eaten yet. Open that and see what happens.”
Lou searched for the can opener while Mary soothed Hank and stroked his hair.
While doing laundry the next morning, Mary noticed the cat food was untouched and the litter box unmarked. She didn’t start to worry until that afternoon. It felt silly to bother Lou at work but she did.
“You don’t think Taffy might have found a way outside do you?”
“She’s still missing?”
“Yes. Could you do me a favor? Stop by our old place just in case. Sometimes cats return to their old haunts if they get the chance. I don’t know how she could have gotten outside, but it’s worth a shot. Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
When Lou came home, Mary met him with expectant eyes. He subtly wagged his head at her unspoken question hoping Hank wouldn’t catch on. He did and began to wail. “I want Taffy.”
Mary picked up her son and sat with him on the sofa. She tried to comfort him. She assured they'd find his cat and rocked him until he fell asleep.
After dropping Hank off at preschool the next morning, Mary hit the street with an armful of posters featuring Taffy's picture and an offer of fifty dollars for her return. Paper notices already sheathed neighborhood telephone poles like a calico layer of bark. They advertised local rock band appearances, painting and cleaning services, pleas for information on missing persons, and reward offers for lost pets. Nailing up Taffy’s poster meant covering someone else’s. The first went up over a carpet cleaning service.
Further up the block, a restaurant and grocery let Mary tape posters to their doors. At the corner she chose to cover a poster for a band named Pins and Needles. Maybe by spreading the pain, no one would get too angry. She didn’t need anyone ripping down all of Taffy’s posters in retribution.
An old woman on an electric scooter wheeled up and eyed the poster. A cigarette dangled from her livery lips. Red ringed eyes shifted from Taffy’s photo to Mary.
“Your cat?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn't put it there. Kids in the neighborhood really love that band. Cover Binky instead, the schnauzer. They found him on the parkway last week. Not a happy ending if you know what I mean.”
Mary ripped down the poster covering Pins and Needles and stapled a new one up over Binky. When she turned, she noticed a clear tube under the woman's nose and the green tank mounted to the back of her scooter. “Is it safe to smoke on oxygen?”
The old woman cackled. “I'm ninety-two. At my age it's not safe to do