Handyman

You live in an old house in a working-class neighborhood, there’s nothing charming about it, not from the inside. If you, a stranger, came in from outside on a dark night, and the foyer was lit only by quaint orange light casting the faux-chandelier in shadows, you might be charmed by the white-painted molding around the stained-glass window at the bottom of the stairs, the old-fashioned radiators recently covered with tasteful moss-green paint, a few minor antiques that we got from Joe after he went into the nursing home, a mahogany cabinet, a simple mirror in a matching mahogany frame, a few wooden chairs with wicker seats and backing. You wouldn’t see the black tar stains on the hardwood floors; they’re covered with a simple rug of Barbara’s classy eye for the good deal. In a better light the moldings are worn and the white paint reflects uneven bumps and knots. And in that same better light, though there might be a better word than "better," the stained-glass window, blue and yellow and clear swirls, at best is “unremarkable" and is in fact an ugly old thing.

It was a fixit house right from the start and whatever it was needing fixing, it was too little too late, always reacting to crisis, an upgrade in the electric power when the fuses refused to stop crashing, the new roof when the attic leaked, the moving of a refrigerator and a stove that provided some needed counter space for chopping vegetables, but never a room big enough to inspire gourmet cuisine or heated family conversation while dinner was prepared. It was a fixit house, all right, right from the start, and now we have a Mr. Fixit come when we can swing it, to paint the porches, and mend the old window in the attic, weed and spruce up around the front flower beds without flowers, just funny bushes whose names we don’t know, put up a railing at the top of the stairs for Barbara’s mother. It’s not easy to find a good Mr. Fixit in our small town without being ripped off; we’ve tried many strangers and have settled on Tony, who is everything you could hope for in a good fellow down a bit on his finances and his health, a handyman, affordable and trustworthy.