“So you’re going to have a new tenant?” My daughter smiled as she handed me a cup of coffee.
“Am I? Who? And when?” I inquired. It was no surprise that I was being told instead of asked. My offspring has been doing this to me since they were teenagers... with my blessing, I must add. More than one kid has spent a few nights in my spare room or on my couch for one reason or another. It was safer trying to fix problems from there than out in the street.
Names were shifting for position in my head. It couldn’t be my daughter herself; she had rented a beautiful apartment not long ago and I knew she loved both the place and the neighborhood.
There was my granddaughter – during her summer vacation she was working nights in the town closest to me. Her dad had moved into the city, and it was at least a 40 minute drive to her mom’s. I had offered my room upstairs at the time, but she had opted to stay either at her boyfriend’s place or up at her Dad’s cottage, both within easy hailing distance of her job.
My sons seemed quite happy in their relationships at the moment, so....
“Are you going to tell me now, or do I find out when they show up at the door?” I grinned at her. She was laughing when she answered me...
“Fred’s girlfriend came to supper last night. She told me she was moving in with Fred when he gets back from Alberta next week.”
Surprised? A little.
Since Fred had rented the apartment downstairs, I had only heard him mention one girl. It was obvious that he was smitten, but for the first year she never came around the house, and I suspected it was pretty much one-sided. Then last May, while home from Alberta for his 10 day break, I hardly saw the lad. He would come in and pick up some clean clothes, then be away again. When questioned, he told me he was staying at Marie’s place.
Ah – First Love! I smiled as I watched my oldest grandson swim blindly in the throes of it. He was totally oblivious to anything else. I don’t think he took out the garbage once the whole 10 days, nor do any other of the tasks expected of him. He showed up with only minutes to spare before his flight back to work out west. My daughter, who was here waiting to drive him to the airport, was not at all pleased.
“You don’t remember your First Love?” I laughed. “It’s the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but you become a zombie.”
“Okay,” she grumbled. “He’s had his 10 days of zombie-ness – now it’s back to real life.”
I guess she talked to him – we never discussed it, but I have noticed a change in his behaviour since his arrival last week. He’s back to being our Fred. His apartment is tidier, he’s in every night, and yesterday he spent a good 3 hours cutting my grass without being asked. I know his girlfriend is here too, although I’ve only glimpsed her coming and going. Then again, I’m still helping with the rug rats, and Suzie is here from Detroit, so I am in and out often myself; we kind of wave to each other in passing, LOL.
“Is Marie staying here when Fred goes back to Alberta next Tuesday?” My daughter answered my question with “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” Of course!
But I don’t think I need to question – when I stopped at the mailbox yesterday, I found among others an envelope addressed to our little Marie, at this address obviously. It looks like I do have a new tenant.
And the thought makes me SMILE. Sending you all your share, folks!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec
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