The Path To Love

Tuesday morning she rushed back from work to do another quick cleaning. She stood in the middle of the small room and turned in a slow circle to make sure she had scrubbed or swept or polished every square inch.

Not that the little place took all that much time, but she did want it sparkling and immaculate because it would never be spacious and beautiful or even attractive.

After straightening one of the glorious paintings that covered the dingy wallpaper, she moved back to survey the room. It was the best she could do, she thought as she squared the yellow tablecloth and tugged the quilt that covered the worn back of the sofa bed.

She wished she could hide the burned place on the linoleum, but short of putting a piece of furniture in the middle of the floor, there was nothing she could do.

She took a deep sniff and could still smell the roach killer she’d used to get rid of the horrible crawly creatures. She knew from experience they wouldn’t stay away long. The next time one of her neighbors fumigated, they’d be back and she’d have to fumigate again.

To get rid of as much of the odor as possible, she threw the window open, then checked the weather. It was always dark in the alley but she could see clear sky if she leaned out way too far and looked up.

She switched on the floor fan in the corner which began to move the air around. That should be okay for now. It was morning and not all that hot yet although the forecast for that afternoon was ninety degrees.

Forcing herself to admit she’d done everything she could to brighten the apartment, Francie washed her hands, changed her T-shirt and combed her hair. That completed, Francie took three steps to the center of the apartment and began to pace.

Francie was not a patient person. That was something she had to work on. After all, it was the fourth fruit of the spirit. She would work on patience soon, but not now, not yet. She was way too nervous for that.

She made herself sit and relax on the sofa as she thought about church and how friendly and welcoming the members were.

The barbecue on Sunday afternoon had been wonderful. Cynthia was lovely—pretty and pleasant. Her family had welcomed Francie, fed her a delicious meal with ribs and potato salad. They’d even driven her back to her apartment in the late afternoon and hadn’t commented on the terrible area of town Francie lived in. Once there, they’d waited until she got inside the building before driving off.

Francie could tell how Mike felt about Cynthia, hovering around her, gently touching her hand or her back, bringing her a soft drink when she needed one. Cynthia had gazed at Mike as if he was the most wonderful man in the world, as, of course, he was.

Wasn’t love great? Well, she didn’t really know. She’d never been in love. Oh, she’d dated, although not much and not recently. She’d never been in love before. Was that because of her problems or because the few times she’d dated she always picked losers? Must be another hereditary characteristic. She hoped her cousins had missed this one.

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