Elvira and Reginald - Part 2

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“Mr. Reginald, the yard’s finished,” Patrick popped his head through the back door, his white and mud shirt slick with sweat. He held his hand through the crack of the door for his five dollar bill like he always did after mowing Reginald’s yard.

Whippersnapper, Reginald rolled his eyes. “Come here, Patrick, if you know what’s best for you.”

Reginald waited for the boy to hesitate before moving the door wide enough to slide through.

“Yes, Mr. Reginald?”

“How old are you?” Mr. Reginald asked as he thumbed through his newspaper until he reached the section with the crossword puzzle.

“Fourteen.”

Reginald put down his newspaper and turned to get a better look at Patrick. He had to scrutinize a while before accepting the boy’s answer as the truth. Fatty and Lump began pawing at the window. Reginald growled under his breath, and for some reason Patrick believed he was supposed to open the window for them. When he opened the window the cats lurched towards him, skimming his shoulders and landing on the kitchen tile, sauntering off to chase shadows in the hall.

“Did you need anything else Mr. Reginald?” Patrick asked, standing by the open window with his hands behind his back.

“Yes,” Reginald said quietly, and with great difficulty, stood from his chair. The strain on his face was not because he was old with aches and pains, but because of what he was about to say next. “I saw your mother the other day when we went to pick up the mail. She said you had a girlfriend.”

Patrick’s eyes widened even more than Reginald thought possible, and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times. No words came out. He did manage to confirm the news with a nod of his head.

“Good. Do you like her?”

“I… yes I do, sir, very much.”

“Why?”

Patrick seemed to have more difficulty with this question, and Reginald offered him a glass of homemade lemonade and a seat at the table.

“Well, sir, she has this way of talking that makes everyone important to her. She has the brownest eyes too, and she smiles without worrying about what others might think of her.” Patrick would have continued, but Reginald was laughing.

“I haven’t even seen her smile,” Reginald said to himself. Patrick sat staring at Reginald, trying to figure out whom he was talking about. When he looked out the window he realized the answer immediately as he caught a glimpse of someone coming down from the upstairs apartment. 

“Just a moment, sir,” and Patrick flashed a knowing grin as he turned to run out the door. All Reginald noticed was the door he had left open. 

A moment later Reginald, who had turned back to his lemonade and crossword, heard voices speaking at the front room. One voice belonged to Patrick and the other was a husky female voice.

“He’s here?” the female voice said with uncertainty.

Reginald stood abruptly from his chair and smoothed the wrinkles from his collared shirt. He turned to face the entryway as confidently as he could, but he could not help but be taken aback by the creature before him. Dressed in a lavender blouse in the pattern of lilacs, Elvira, the woman of apartment #203 walked toward him with eyes sparkling and a warm smile. She reached to shake his hand; her nails lavender like her shirt. Although Reginald was none the wiser, Elvira’s cheeks had gathered color. Fortunately, Patrick was aware.

“So you can help me, then?” Her penciled-in eyebrows lifted beautifully, and Reginald had to remind himself to answer her question.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good, then could you come by at three tomorrow?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

And like a dream fit for a senior like himself, the beauty drifted out the door, the scent of lilacs left in her wake.

“…Reginald? Reginald?” Patrick’s voice pulled his eyes away from the door.

“Yes boy,” Reginald said gruffly. “What just happened? Have I got a…date?” He almost swallowed the word before it came out.

“Do you know how to fix garbage disposals?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason in particular.”

Reginald scowled, certain Patrick was hiding something from him.

“Well old man, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Why? You don’t need to mow again until at least three more weeks.”

“To hear about that date, sir,” and he clapped Reginald’s back. “I want to know how it goes.”

Patrick left, and Reginald wondered why he had looked concerned as he closed the door behind him.