“You’re way too kind.” Snorting, Gretchen turned on the kitchen light. “I’ll make decaf. I don’t like the herbal stuff.”
Thelma perused the living room while the kettle was put on the stove, and Gretchen searched for two clean mugs in her cupboards. A crocheted blanket was thrown over the back of a well-worn couch in front of the big TV hung on the wall above the fireplace. Work boots of all shapes and dark colors were strewn along the wall by the front door. Pictures of old family, of scenic settings around California, dotted the dark gray wall lined with a baseboard heater. Thelma’s fingers ran atop a big, comfortable-looking armchair that lightly rocked from her touch. It was only then that she realized an old cat looked up at her.
“That’s Barry,” Gretchen said. “He’s an old man. Doesn’t do much and takes care of himself while I’m at work.”
Thelma said hello to Barry, the fluffy black cat who yawned, stretched, and went back to sleep on top of a pullover sweater. “I’m guessing he’s the real reason you didn’t want Fiddles messing with your stuff.”
“Barry likes people just fine.” Gretchen poured hot water into two mismatched mugs. “It’s other cats he despises.”
Thelma joined her in the kitchen, hanging her purse over the back of a dining chair before helping herself to the cleanest side of the table. It wasn’t that Gretchen’s place wasdirty,but it was cluttered, with old breakfast dishes still stacked on the other end as if she had been in a hurry to get out the door earlier. The kitchen counter was likewise a hodgepodge of canned goods, sealed snack bags, and stacks of more dishes that barely left a trail to the microwave, toaster, and stove. Yet the sink was suspiciously empty and wiped clean. And the little succulents lining the kitchen window above the sink were well cared for.
There was dust on the ceiling and probably on top of the cupboards. The attentive housewife in Thelma wondered when the last time the floors were mopped and the carpets vacuumed.Megan was so embarrassed when I started doing both twice a week.Robbie hadn’t noticed how disgusting his carpets were. Did it really kill these people to turn on the vacuum at least once a week?
But this wasn’t Thelma’s house. She had been in worse. She knew what it was like to visit friends and family in two-room “shacks” with dirt floors and blankets for glass windows. Most of those wives were often too tired after working, cooking, and taking care of children to clean much.“Always count your blessings,”Thelma’s mother used to say before they returned to their modest home in the middle of town.“Next time you whine about your creaky bed, think about your friends who share a bed with all their siblings.”
“Oh, thank you.” Thelma was snapped out of her memories when Gretchen brought back a mug of tea and offered some sugar and cream. Thelma helped herself to a little cream. “Do you really live here by yourself?”
Gretchen sank into the chair next to Thelma’s, mouth slightly open. “Uh, yeah. If you don’t count Barry, I mean. And I mostly adopted him because one of my friends works at a cat shelter and needed to get his fat assout.She made it sound like life and death.” She stirred some sugar into her tea. “You ask me, it washerdeath on the line because she couldn’t stand him.”
Thelma giggled. “It’s a lot of house for one person.”
“That’s what my extended family says. They want me to sell while the real estate is boiling hot. And, to be fair, I’m getting cooked by the property taxes every year. But the location can’t be beat, the mortgage is paid off, and I’m handy enough to take care of most of the problems myself. Or I know guys in the industry who will give me a break if I give them breaks on stuff I know. Like Isuckat electrical. Don’t ask me to fix your electricity. We will all die.”
“I’ve never learned how to fix things. Never was a tinkerer.” Thelma avoided the string from the tea bag as she sipped. “Spent my whole life… cleaning, I guess. I’m good at cleaning.”
Gretchen glanced around her kitchen after hearing that.
“Don’t worry. I’m not thinking about it.”
“Good news for me, then. So, what’s in the bag?”
Thelma held the tote bag of printouts closer. “Just my history reading. I take classes near West Hollywood.”
“Oh, really? I’ve got friends in West Hollywood. I’m down that way all the time.”
“It’s a lot… gayer than I remember.”
Gretchen stared at her, big hazel eyes boring a hole right into Thelma’s soul. “Gayer?” she gasped through a drink of tea.
“You know. Homosexual couples. Especially men.”
“Yeah, I know what gay is.”
Did I say the wrong thing?“Do you know what all of the rainbow stuff is for? It wasn’t there a couple of weeks ago, and now it’s everywhere! Little rainbow flags on the businesses, and all these banners hanging from the light posts. It’s very pretty, but I don’t know much about it.”
Gretchen continued to stare at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” Thelma powered through that prolonged eye contact as she drank more tea. “Why would I be kidding? I like colors. I just don’t know why…”
“For Pride. It starts next week.”
“Pride?”
“Uh, you know…” Gretchen prompted her, but Thelma had nothing. “Pride.LGBT Pride.”
“LGBT?”
“Holy shit, how isolated were you?”
