Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise Read Free Page B

them the washer and dryer; all of the furniture except a Tiffany lamp, the beds, my lovely flowery sofa, and two chests of drawers; and various and sundry kitchen items like pots and pans, utensils, and my pie tins. I wanted to leave them Herman's La-Z-Boy. Jorge liked it.
    "Look at this, Livie," he said as he settled the chair into its full reclining position. "I can rest here after work."
    Olivia smiled. "Don't go thinking you'll be doing much resting, Jorge." She patted her bulging belly.
    But no dice. Lucky wouldn't have it. He snarled and grabbed Jorge's pant leg and tried to pull him off the chair.
    "Oh, my goodness gracious. I am so sorry." I rushed over and grabbed the dog by the collar. "Lucky likes the chair."
    "No problem, Mrs. Figg. He didn't hurt me or nothin'," Jorge said. "I'll get a new one."
    I smiled and handed him a set of house keys. "I'll leave the second set on the kitchen counter. And I also made a note with the names and numbers of the plumber, the electrician, the man who fixes my—um—your washer and dryer. Trash comes on Tuesday and Friday, and the mail is delivered by noon. If the heater goes off, just call Simon. He'll come right out. The man can fix anything, even if it's not broken. Every so often the shutters on the attic window bang against the house in a high wind, so don't get frightened and . . . " I stopped talking.
    It was at that moment that I saw the reality of home ownership strike terror into the hearts of the nice young couple. Their eyes bugged out like cartoon characters.
    "It is an old house," I said. "But she's a good house. And oh, I left you a pie—blueberry. And whipped cream in the fridge."Once I had gotten the agreement of sale, my baking desires returned. "And, Jorge, make sure you check the freezer gasket. It might need replacing."
    Olivia reached out and pulled me close for a hug. It surprised me a little. "Thank you, Mrs. Figg. Good luck in Paradise," she said. "I think it's wonderful, a woman your age doing such a thing."
    "Why, thank you, young lady." And that was when I was suddenly filled with a sense of my own mortality, of time shifting, of the world belonging to the young. It gave me a funny feeling in my gut. There had to be something more waiting for me in Paradise. There just had to be.
    That evening after supper—a TV dinner of Salisbury steak with French fries and a tiny peach cobbler—I called my mother.
    "I sold the house and I'm moving to Paradise." I said the words fast because it was easier that way.
    She fell silent for a good long time until she finally said, "Is this you, Charlotte?"
    "Yes, Mother. It's me."
    "Well, I just don't understand what the dickens you are talking about. Are you trying to tell me you're joining Herman in Paradise? Who believes that rat is even in Paradise. And—"
    "Mother. Don't be ridiculous. I mean Paradise Trailer Park. I bought one."
    "One what?"
    "Trailer. They call it a double-wide."
    She dropped the phone.
    "Are you there?" I asked. "Are you all right?"
    A minute later I heard her breathing again. "Yes, I'm here. I thought I heard you say the word double-wide. But you must have said, filled with pride, dear. You're just filled with pride over something."
    "No, Mother. I said I bought a double-wide trailer."
    "Oh, Charlotte. I cannot believe my ears."
    And she hung up.

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    I naturally inherited Herman's Ford Galaxy convertible— candy apple red with whitewall tires. The paint shimmered in the sunlight like a bright ruby ring. He spent hours washing and polishing the thing like it truly was a precious jewel.
    That nice James Deeter from the insurance company came over with two of his buddies, and they helped lug the heavy stuff and boxes to the short utility trailer named The Little Tough Guy I rented from Skip Cozy at the Texaco station. Skip told me to return it to any other Texaco close to my destination. I packed it with my most precious belongings, including two tall trophies I had stored in the