For Your Sake by Elayne Disano Page A

to do that, but with Cyndi and Marie manning the store, she didn’t have anyone else to bum a ride from.  Hopefully this ‘someone else’ wasn’t someone who looked as if they escaped Hades.  “That’ll be great, thanks.”
     
                  He swept an arm in front of him and bowed.  “Your wish is my command.”
     
                  Oh, he was quite a charmer.  He had to be to compensate for those frightening looks.  She stood outside on the stoop as she watched him back the flatbed into her driveway before going inside to get her keys.  Going out the slider, she stepped onto the deck and handed them over the railing to Satan……er…..Taz who was waiting at the top of the driveway.  She then looked across the yard where Mrs. Bachman had stopped pouring birdseed into a feeder in order to check out what was going on.  Spotting Taz, her mouth practically hit her mulched beds. 
     
                  “Hello, Mrs. Bachman.” Eva waved, rubbing it in a bit.
     
                  Taz paused hooking up the jeep to mimick her. “Hello Mrs. Bachman,” he called out, waving a hand over his head.  The old biddie practically keeled over.  This Taz truly was a little devil.
     
                  Car successfully towed away, she went back inside to check the mural.  Taking a scraper, she inserted it in a corner and gently pushed.  It came off pretty easy, but she decided to spray one more coat for good measure.
     
                  While the second coat took, she decided to tackle the moving boxes.  In an hour she got all the kitchen boxes unpacked.  Putting everything away was a different story as the contents now littered her kitchen table, countertops, floor – hell, even the stove top.  She then got a step stool, set it up in front of the mural and began to slowly scrape away the ugly, melted goo.  Each sweep of the scraper revealed the clean wall below which would eventually have to be sanded and primed before she could paint.  She thought a nice, muted shade of Hunter green would work.
     
                  Two hours later the plastic tarp, as well as her shirt, were covered in the sticky remains of the mural, but the wall was finally clean and exposed.  Stepping back, she viewed her work, feeling quite proud of herself.  And suddenly ambitious.
     
                  With a couple more hours to kill, Eva made the best of them.  In the kitchen she took just the unpacked cookware, washed, dried and put it away.  By then, the coffee pot had automatically turned off, so she poured it into a glass with milk and sweetener then added ice.  Caffeine did not go to waste in her house.  She went upstairs to at least change out of her gooey t-shirt, but decided against it when she decided what to do next.  Before heading back down, she paused at the top of the stairs, looking at the small set which led to the third level.  To her most favorite room which she hadn’t a clue what to do with yet. 
     
                  Ascending them, she twisted the crystal doorknob and opened the door to the turret.  Her nose wrinkled at the staleness of the room, but wanted it closed off while in this state of flux.  She cracked open the two windows which led to the street below.  Ever since her dad bought the mailbox she picked out, this part of the house was her favorite.  Most six year old girls would envision being a trapped princess in that room, waiting for a prince to rescue her, but not Eva.  For her, she wanted that tiny room to be her escape, her sanctuary, a place she could play or read or even forget why a mother would willingly walk out on her husband and child.
     
                  Now, as an adult, she finally stood in the room she fantasized about, the feeling of loss and confusion not as bad, but still stung.  Like most of the house, it was white walls with oak bead board molding and built-in