Slow Bleed?
By D.R.

Well, Babe, we really hit the jackpot this time,? my husband says as he hangs up the phone.?So I won?? I?m a contest addict, faithfully filling out forms, knowing someday I'm going to hit it big.'Yeah, WE won, to the tune of another thousand bucks.' For some reason he says this with a grimace tightening his face.

My heart is pounding, it?s difficult to breathe, and the kitchen begins swirling.

Guiding me to a chair, he sits me down. He keeps both hands on my shoulders until my breathing returns to normal.'What's it for this time?' Asking this question ties my stomach into a knot.'Aww, crap, I think I told them we had a dedicated line to the bathroom for the heated flooring, but with all the rewiring, the electrician had to install a new one. That's why it took so long the other day. And, of course the contractor isn't going to cover it,' he says shaking his head.

Remodeling is pretty much a crap shoot. You hear the jokes and see the eye rolls and knowing nods about remodeling projects all the time. Do-it-yourselfers struggle with technique, timing, and how to get the most for your money. Anyone who's ever done home improvement projects dreams of the day when you?ve got enough cash to afford a professional contractor. We certainly did.

By forgoing vacations, nice clothes, fancy dinners, gift-giving occasions, using coupons, and scrimping every possible way, we finally saved enough money. We hired a professional contractor to remodel our bathroom. It?s 70 years old.

'Three weeks, tops,' assures Big Red the project manager the morning demolition begins. He made that statement eight weeks ago. There have been a few hang ups. Water poured through the kitchen ceiling. Twice. The plumber nicked the wires that run the kitchen lights. The electrician sliced through the kitchen ceiling. The water main burst, so the basement flooded. Workers show up without tools, buckets, and lights two hours later than they are scheduled to come every day. The plaster is cracked in the hallway. The brown paper and something like bubble wrap, meant to protect the floors, is not doing the job.

The carpet is full of grit. Yesterday six men were in our eight by eight foot bathroom trying to figure out why nothing fits. My husband and I sit helplessly among boxes of fixtures and cabinet components in the living room. We freeze as the front door stands open. We dread skyrocketing heating bills.

At every turn, we get another phone call. It's a slow bleed: extra costs for plumbing, inspections, permits, and now electricity.

Look, the workers won't show up for another couple of hours. How about a walk to just get out of here?? my husband suggests.

I've regained my bearings. That sounds like a great idea. 'Sure, let me get my boots on.'

Our route is the same one every day; a mile out and a mile back. It winds through a working class neighborhood of aging Craftsman bungalows, cheap infill apartment buildings, and a marshy city park. After any rain shower the sidewalks are particularly puddle ridden, so I spend a lot of time looking down to avoid wet feet. Near the park entrance, I spot the dirty envelope poking out from under a soggy pile of leaves.

'Hey, wait?' bending down I use just my thumb and index finger to pull it free from the muck.

'Honey stop. STOP!?' Hearing the panic in my voice, my husband, now several steps ahead of me now, does a 180.?What?s wrong???Nothing's WRONG, but look what I FOUND!? I extend the envelope in his direction.

No name on the envelope. No return address. No nothing. A soggy stack of Ben Franklins peek from the opening. 'Yo-leven,' my husband whistles softly.

Some people would use this windfall to pay off a thousand dollar back charge.

Some folks would see this as divine intervention and 'Did I win'? I ask my husband. There's so much commotion going on around the craps table I'm not sure what's going on.

'Honey,' he says, giving me a big kiss, 'that's the BEST hundred bucks you?ve ever found.'Relieved, I smile. I'm no fool. I know it's beginners luck.

More relieved, I'm glad the other ten Franklins found their way tothe electrician.

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