A Place to Call Home - Part I

Alexandra Mays was a wanderer. Like in the song of old, she roamed from town to town, never staying in one place for very long, never setting down roots. After finishing her first year of college, Alex as she liked to be called, came to the realization that she needed something more in her life than three more years of academia. So she packed up what there was of her personal possessions, tossed them in the van that her Uncle had bought her, and hit the road. Her Uncle John had raised Alex after the death of her parents when she was seven. John Mays was a life long bachelor, ill prepared for the needs of a growing girl. Still, the master contractor did what he could, giving her all the love in his heart and teaching her all that he knew. By the time Alex had graduated high school, she had learned every aspect of her Uncle's business. Starting at the bottom of the ladder, she'd worked as a carpenter, a painter, a landscaper, plumber, and an electrician. Two months before the end of that first year of college, John Mays suffered a heart attack. It had been the fifty-nine year olds third and had been followed a few weeks later by a fourth and final coronary. Alex lost any interest in school after that, deciding to hit the road for a while and find herself. Her inheritance from her Uncle's estate, coupled with what she made working as a Jill of all trades was enough for her to get by. There would be plenty of time to go back and get the education her Uncle wanted her to get, she told herself. That had been five years ago.

The sign off the county road had said the town was called Danversville. Named no doubt, the twenty-four year old brunette thought, after some long ago founding family. At first glance, it seemed no different than any of the half dozen towns she'd already visited this year. A sleepy Main Street with a pharmacy, movie theater, a small library and other assorted infrastructure. There was no particular reason why she picked this town to drive through. There never was. Life was more of an adventure that way. Halfway down Main Street just before the Police Station and Courthouse that dominated the small town square, Alex spotted what she was looking for. Past experience had taught her that the local hardware store was usually the best place to get a line on any possible jobs in the area. Sure enough, there was a large cork bulletin board near the counter, upon which were a small number of help wanted notes.

Alex moved up to the counter where the clerk was busy doing her nails. It took her a few tries to get the bleached blonde's attention. She finally looked up from the magazine she was reading at the same time and asked if she could help the brunette. "I was wondering if you knew of any contractor jobs in the area?" Alex said with a smile as she leaned over and took note of the magazine the girl had been reading. She wasn't surprised to find it was the usual tabloid trash. "Contractor jobs?" the girl in the low cut sun dress repeated. "You know, electrical work, carpentry, painting, that sort of thing." Alex went on to explain. "Well I don't know," she said as she looked over Alex, her face making no secret of her disapproval of Alex's short haircut and unisex dress. The older girl just shrugged it off. When you spent as much time traveling as she did, you learned to dress as comfortably as possible. "You have to look and see what's up on the board. I think that Mike... I mean Mr. Zalman put up something new there yesterday. Not sure what it was about, but I think I saw old lady Crawford's name on it. She bought the old Gallagher place last year and that always needs some kind of work done on it." "Thanks, you've been a big help." Alex said with a touch of sarcasm as she turned her attention to the board. She was sure it was lost on the girl who was already back at her magazine. With only a half dozen notices, Alex quickly found the one in question. She had just finished reading it when she felt someone approach behind her. She turned to find a slightly overweight man in his late forties standing behind her. "Hello, I'm Mitchell Zalman." he said as he also took stock of the young woman. "My wife and I own this store. Wendy, that's our cashier over there, said that you were interested in any contractor work hereabouts." "That's right." Alex said, all too aware of his eyes on her breasts.

"She said something about a Ms. Crawford need some help." "Don't get many women in these parts doing that sort of work." Mr. Zalman said, trying to get a better look down her blouse. "Well I'm not exactly from these parts, Mr. Zalman." Alex said as she reached back and pulled the notice off the wall. "And trust me, there are few contracting jobs that I can't handle." She went on to list a few of her qualifications and references. The store owner couldn't help but be impressed. "Please call me Mike," he said with a friendly smile. "Everyone does. I can't really tell you what the job would cover. Marilyn Crawford is a pretty private person. Way I reckon, she really wasn't too happy about posting the ad to begin with." Noting that there wasn't any number or address on the notice, Alex asked if Mr. Zalman had the information. A little reluctantly, he pulled a small piece of paper from out of his wallet. Ms. Crawford had asked him to give it to any qualified respondents. Holding the address and phone with the original ad, Alex asked for directions to the old Gallagher place. She thanked the hardware man, and started to leave. Alex was almost out the door when Mike called out after her. "If you don't get the job, you just come back and see old Mike here." he said. "I'm sure I could find a place for someone of your skills." Alex smiled and again thanked Mr. Zalman. From the furious glances from the helpful girl behind the counter, she could imagine the kind of skills Mike Zalman looked for in the hired help. She imagined that Mrs. Zalman didn't come down to the store much.

Climbing back into her ten year old land rover, Alex smiled at the little episode back in the store. The twenty four year old was used to being the object of attention of both men and women. She stood just a shade under five six and her chosen profession the last half decade had left her with a trim, muscular build. Coupled with her short sun-streaked brown hair, it produced a striking look. As she drove through town, following the directions she'd been given, Alex wondered what this prospective job might entail. Also what her prospective employer might be like as well. From what had been painted so far by Mike and Wendy, Ms. Crawford was undoubtedly some eccentric little old lady who valued her privacy. Every town seemed to have at least one. Living in an old house, she must have at least a half dozen little jobs that needed doing. At least Alex hoped so. Turning down the street, she spotted the house at the end of the block. It reminded her of a similar one she'd worked on a few years back. That had belonged to a married couple in their sixties. Nice people she remembered, she had worked for them for almost a month.

When she pulled up front, Alex saw that the house was larger than it had first appeared. Larger, and a lot older. If she had to guess, she would put it as early 1900's. One thing did seem out of place on the Victorian era house were the two satellite dishes mounted on the roof. There also seemed to be some additional power lines run into the second floor as well. "I guess some people just can't live without their HBO." Alex mused as she started up the long walk. She pressed the doorbell and waited. After getting no response, she tried the old door knocker instead. It made a loud booming sound. "Guess the doorbell is one of the things that needs fixing." she thought as she waited. A few moments later, the sound of footsteps behind the door became loud enough to hear.

When the door swung open, Alex found that her assumptions about Ms. Crawford were way off the mark. Assuming of course that this was the owner of the house standing in the doorway. A full figured woman who stood half a head taller than Alex, she had a bust that drew immediate attention. Raven black hair with just a trace of gray streamed down her back. Alex would put her age in her mid thirties but would later be surprised that Ms. Crawford was two months shy of forty-three. Even in the plain sweatsuit she was wearing, the woman exuded a sense of poise and elegance.

"Good morning," the older woman said with a smile that if anything, made her seem even younger. "Can I help you?"

"I think that was supposed to be my line," Alex replied with an equally warm smile. "My name is Alex May and I'm here about the ad you posted in the hardware store." "Well that was quick," she said as her face seemed to beam even brighter. Please come in. I'll have to ask you to excuse the mess, I really wasn't expecting anyone today. No, that's really not true, the house would probably be just as messy if I knew you were coming. I'm Marilyn Crawford, by the way, but I'm sure you've already figured that out for yourself." As Alex followed Marilyn into a large cluttered living room, she had to admit their introduction had gone pretty well. No comments about how surprising it was to have a young woman applying for the position. More often than not, Alex spent much of an introduction just convincing people that she was serious. Marilyn cleared some of the books piled on the sofa so that she and Alex could sit down.

"I tend to take books off the shelf and forget to put them back," Marilyn apologized as she sat next to the younger woman. "Anyway, down to business. I'm sure you want to know what the jobs all about." Alex nodded in response. She quickly decided she liked this woman. She listened intently as Marilyn explained what she was looking for. "I moved here about year ago to get away from the insane asylum were I used to work." She began. "Most people seem to grow up in small towns and can't wait to move to the big city. I was the reverse. Grew up in probably the busiest city in the world and against all the odds wound up in the top of my field. Made a lot of money, but it was 24/7 existence. Not much time for a personal life or anything else." Marilyn paused for a breath as a far away look filled her face for a moment. She seemed to be thinking of someplace, or someone else. "Then one day my world seemed to come crashing down. I had a friend, an associate actually. No, make that a friend, she deserves to be remembered that way. Anyway, one day the pressure got to be too much and she stepped in front of a cross-town bus. I've never been able to decide if she was just too tired or preoccupied to know what she was doing, or if she just lost it and didn't care anymore. Either way, if I didn't take that as a wakeup call, I don't know what else would be." Marilyn paused a second time, noting that she was going on and on and had totally forgotten her manners. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked.

"No I'm fine." Alex responded. "Well to get to the point," she went on. "I needed to make a change in my life, a big change or else one of these days I might be the one under a bus." "How did you wind up here, if I might ask?" "Well most of the people around here think I'm the crazy city lady who was stupid enough to buy the old Gallagher place," Marilyn grinned. "Truth is, I'm a Gallagher on my mother's side and the house belongs to a cousin. He's been trying to sell it for years and was happy to practically give it to me. I had the major work the place needed done by some big contractors, enough to make the place livable at least. That and a few modifications to let me continue the work I used to do, at least on a smaller scale." "I noticed the satellite dishes and the extra power line outside. What kind of work do you do Ms. Crawford, if I might ask?" Of course you might, it's nothing clandestine or anything like that." she laughed. "I'm what's called a freelance market analyst. I do demographic and psychographic studies for companies, as well as acquisitions analysis. The latter part usually consists of identifying where good markets are and if any small suppliers exist that are ripe for purchase." "I have no idea what any of that means," Alex said. "So I guess I'll just take your word that you're good at what you do."

"Well I was good enough for a great many of my clients to still want to have me work for them, even if I'm no longer close enough to actually meet with any of them. That's the wonder of this age of telecommunications. I can do my job just as easily a thousand miles away as I could when my office was just a few blocks away. Of course I've scaled down my workload somewhat. I make less, but now I find I have time for other interests. All in all, I think it's a fair trade off." "Not that I haven't found all of this very interesting, Ms. Crawford," Alex said as politely as she could. "But I'm still not exactly sure what you might want to hire me for." "You're right, I have been rambling on, haven't I?" she laughed. "l really don't have a lot of visitors out here and I guess I just got carried away a little. I like my solitude, but sometimes I miss having a real person to talk to. At least one not on a computer screen. Not many of the locals are interested in what I do, but judging from your accent you're not exactly a local yourself are you?" "No, I'm not a local." Alex replied. "Well, what I'm looking for is someone who can fix some of the little things around here, as well as help restore some of the beauty of this old house. I could have some big outfit come in, but I really don't want to turn this place into a work zone. I'd much rather have the work done a little more slowly and still maintain my privacy. Do you think you could handle that?" "I'm sure I could," Alex said as she reached into the small red backpack she had been carrying when she came in. "I have a few letters of recommendation and a list of ..." "I've always considered myself a pretty good judge of people," Marilyn interrupted. "You can hold onto those. What say we try it for a week and see how it goes?" "Sounds fine to me," Alex said. "But I should tell you that I really don't usually stay in one place too long. I'm the type of person who likes to stay on the move." "Well, like I said, lets give it a week and see how it goes. Then we'll take it a week at a time if everything works out. That sound fair to you?" "I think we have a deal."

Alex smiled and reached out her hand. "One thing though," the older woman said. "My mother was Ms. Crawford, I'd rather you call me Marilyn." "Okay, Marilyn." Alex replied. "Have you found a place to stay in town yet?" Marilyn asked. "Well as long as the weather stays nice, I usually just camp out in my van." the younger woman said. "Well we can forget about that," Marilyn said. "Not while I have four empty bedrooms. We'll just considered it one of the perks of the job." "You won't get any argument from me." Alex said, thinking how nice it would be to sleep in a real bed for a change. "Well it looks like all we have to decide is where you should start." Marilyn said. "Might I suggest the doorbell?" Alex said. Marilyn laughed. "I knew I was making the right decision in hiring you."

Early the next morning, Alex again showed up at Zalman's Hardware. She had been able to repair the doorbell with the materials at hand, but for some of the larger jobs she was going to need some supplies. As she was the day before, Wendy was behind the counter, wearing a dress just as revealing as the one yesterday. "Good morning." Alex said as she walked up to the counter. "Oh, its you." The long haired blond said in a disappointed tone as she looked up and saw Alex standing in front of her. This time she didn't seem to notice the denim blouse and jeans Alex was wearing, instead diverting all of her brain power to the idea that she might have come back to take Mike up on his offer. "I'm going to need some supplies," Alex smiled after waiting a few beats to let Wendy think what she willed. "I've typed it all out on this list. Would you have it all in stock or do you have to order it?" The nineteen year old looked at the long list that Alex had handed her, a look of confusion quickly filling her face. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what some of these things are," Wendy said. 'I'll have to check with Mr. Zalman and he hasn't come in to work yet this morning." "I'll bet if I'd put knee pads on the list you'd know what they were." Alex thought as she considered that she wasn't going to get to start any of the projects today as she planned. "Do you know what time you might expect him?" she asked instead. "Well on Friday's he usually doesn't come in until the afternoon." she admitted. "Great." Alex said under her breath, thinking now that it might be Monday before she got any of her supplies.

"Is there a problem, Wendy?" said a feminine voice from behind the counter divider. Alex looked past the teenager to see a tall buxom redhead step from an office behind the checkout counter. The woman looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. She was wearing a rather plain dress that covered her impressive bust yet at the same time, drew attention to it. "I'm Gloria Zalman, can I be of any help?" she said as she reached the edge of the counter. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Zalman," Alex said, wondering if Mr. Zalman had a woman that looked like this sharing his bed, why in the world would he need the airhead blond. "My name is Alex May and I'm going to be working in town for a while, doing some renovation work on what I guess you know as the Gallagher house. I was hoping that I could pick up some supplies this morning to get started but your salesclerk here informs me that I'd have to wait until your husband comes in this afternoon to see if you have any of it in stock." "Oh, so you're the contractor that Marilyn hired." Gloria said with a beaming smile.

"She called me not twenty minutes ago to say that she'd hired the most delightful young woman to do some work on her house and would I be so kind as to set up a line of credit for anything you might need for the repairs." The bright smile quickly faded to one of dissatisfaction as she turned her attention to Wendy and took the long list out of her hand. Gloria took a moment to run her finger down the paper, nodding her head as checked off certain items. "We have most of this in stock," she said as she looked up, her smile reappearing. "What we don't I'm sure we can get for you by Monday or Tuesday." "That would be fine." Alex said with relief. "Wendy, why don't you take this list back to Billy John and ask him to get together the things I checked off and have them delivered this afternoon to Ms. Crawford's." "Yes, Mrs. Zalman." Wendy said as she quickly went off into the lumber yard behind the store in search of Billy John.

"I do apologize for Wendy," Gloria said as she came out from behind the counter. "I know she'd not the brightest, but most of the customers that come in here are men and my husband seems to feel that they do more business when they see her behind the counter. And I have to admit, she does seem to draw them with the assets that she does have." 'I guess so." Alex agreed, wondering why she got the impression that Mrs. Zalman, or Gloria as she insisted she call her, knew exactly what if anything might be going on with Wendy and her husband. More so, she didn't seem to care. "Can I offer you a cup of coffee?" Gloria said as she reached for the decanter resting beneath the Mr. Coffee. "That would be fine." Alex said.

As the two women drank their coffee and made small talk, Wendy returned to the counter. A gruff bearded man in his fifties came in and bought some paint supplies. As he paid for them, Wendy leaned over the counter asking if he needed anything else. Her posture gave the man a clear view down her dress and the braless breasts within. When the gentleman realized he'd spent too much time admiring the view, he acting as if he'd been considering the question and ordered two more things. Suppressing a laugh, Alex had to admit that as a sales technique, it worked. After the man left with his purchase and Wendy went back to her reading, Alex thanked Gloria for the cup of coffee and said she had to be going. "Well it was nice meeting you and I hope we get the chance to chat a little more." Gloria said as the younger woman left. Seeing as she would undoubtedly need things other than she had ordered, Alex was sure that they would.



After running a few more errands, Alex made her way back to Marilyn's house. The market analyst had just finished her day's work and insisted that Alex join her for lunch. The older woman was really going out of her way to make her newly hired help feel welcome. "So what's the story with the Zalman's and that girl Wendy?" Alex asked halfway through lunch. Marilyn stopped eating and put down her folk on the table. She thought about the question for a moment then said. "Gloria Zalman is the best friend I have in this town." "Oh I'm sorry," Alex quickly apologized, wondering if she might have just tossed away her new job. "It's really none of my business. I had no call asking anything like that." "It's okay," Marilyn answered, "Someone as perceptive as yourself couldn't help but notice that there was something there. Since you'll have a lot of contact with the Zalman's while you're here you might as well know."

Alex put down her own folk to give Marilyn her full attention. "You might not think it to look at him now, but Mike Zalman was quite the jock in his high school days, a star halfback on the football team during his senior year." she began. "Gloria was on the cheerleader squad. And as such things have a way of happening, Gloria and Mike became intimate, maybe getting just a little too careless one night. A wedding soon followed and seven months later a daughter as well. She's married herself now, with one baby and another on the way." She paused to take a sip of her tea. "And as happens to many couples who marry way too young, they changed and drifted apart. They have a child and grandchild in common, as well as their business. For them it's enough. As long as Mike doesn't flaunt his dalliances, Gloria is willing to let well enough alone. " "I can't imagine myself in that position," Alex remarked. "Having your husband screwing around while you live a celibate life." "I never said that." Marilyn laughed as she popped the last forkful into her mouth. "Gloria is a vital woman, with a woman's needs. She is quite capable of taking care of them on her own." That statement made Alex wonder for a moment what Marilyn did about her own needs. Then she answered her own question thinking to herself that the woman on the other side of the table was more than capable as well.

The trial week passed quickly, as did the week after that. A third and fourth went just as fast as Alex occupied her time with one project after another.

"I can't believe how much you've gotten done in a month," Marilyn said as she stepped into the freshly painted room. "This place looks like you've had a small army working in here every day." A paint splattered Alex, clad in a T-shirt and shorts dropped off the ladder on to the tarp she had spread on the wooden floor. She dropped the roller in her hand into the paint pan, then ran a blue spotted hand through her short hair. "I'm glad you're happy with the job I'm doing." she smiled. "Oh I'm more than happy," Marilyn said as she held out a cold glass of juice for Alex. "In fact, I'm beginning to dread the day you decide you've had enough of this place and take off. I'm going to have to hire a dozen people to take your place." "Well I'm not at that point yet," Alex said, talking a long taste of the offering. "It's been a lot of fun working on this old house. It seems like I've barely been working on it a week." "Well it's been four weeks," the older woman said. "More specifically, 28 days that you've worked almost non-stop." "Well I get like that," she replied as she drained the glass. "I tend to get wrapped up in what I'm doing." "I know that feeling all too well." Marilyn agreed. "So well that I think you should take a break from all this." "And do what?" Alex said as she continued to clean up.

"Well there is a dance in town tonight at the VFW hall," Marilyn suggested. "I'm told they are a lot of fun." "A VFW dance?" Alex repeated. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass." "Are you sure?" Marilyn said. "Gloria told me that young man in her store, what was his name again, Billy Jack or ..." "Billy John." Alex corrected. "So you have noticed him." Marilyn smiled. Billy John Fisher was the young man who had been delivering the supplies to the Crawford house. He wasn't that much brighter than his co-worker Wendy, but like her he hadn't been hired for his brains. The twenty-five year old had the body of a body-builder and was as cute as could be. "Well, as I was saying, Gloria said that Billy John was going to the dance and had asked her if she knew if you were going as well. She then asked me and I said I would ask you." "I sense a conspiracy here." Alex grinned. "Just a desire to see you have a little fun." Marilyn countered. Alex though about it a few moments. It had been a long time since she had actually gone out and had some fun. Taking a break and letting her hair down a little seemed like a pretty good idea. "All right, you've talked me into it." Alex relented. "I'll go with you." "That's great, but I'm not going," the black haired woman laughed. "The dance is for the under thirty crowd." "I think I've been shanghaied." Alex laughed as well. "Just enjoy the dance, sweetheart, the house will still be waiting for you tomorrow."