The house is silent except for the clock on top of my bookcase. That clock has a story, medicine like most items that human beings feel the need to hold onto.
My husband and I had just moved into our new “house”. It was a pretty spectacular week. For the first month, store even, levitra we felt as if we were living in a hotel. We started getting our boxes unpacked. We cleaned up all of our moldy furniture and hoped that the mold would not grow back. We purchased a new bookcase that we set up and haphazardly placed our books in, just trying to make them all fit. We unpacked my husband’s starships and he placed them with care in our glass case. We put a clean mattress cover and new sheets on our bed and bought the brand new pillows we promised each other long before we moved to our place. It was heavenly.
This little “house”, while not actually being a house, was what we’d always wanted. We had our 2 floors. We had 2 bedrooms. We had a nice dining room and a small but sweet kitchen. The living room was big enough that we could place the couch halfway, and there was still plenty of space in front of it for exercising and behind it for Neylan’s play area.
With all the things that we had unpacked and purchased, there was one thing that we didn’t have– a clock. And we promised Neylan that we would get a clock because he wanted one.
We originally went to the mall to buy a TV from Best Buy. After looking and not finding anything that we wanted, we figured that we might as well go window shopping. My husband, who was in need of a hair cut, broke off from our little group to head to the second floor to dispose of what was becoming an afro. Neylan and I continued walking around, looking at everything.
After coming out of Claire’s, I decided that I wanted to take Ney to an antique shop that was on the first floor. I told him that this little shop had some really interesting trains and little wooden boats. The shop also had some wooden plaques, old shop signs, and beautifully carved wooden chests.
Walking into the shop you could see the variety of trinkets and doohickeys. There was something for everyone and definitely something for us. Neylan saw them at the same time I did– clocks. Clocks that could be wall mounted. Clocks that could make noise. Clocks with pendulums and roman numerals. Clocks and lots of them.
I beelined for the clocks. Neylan sat in his stroller staring up at the clocks while I looked at each one. The following things mattered to me at that moment: The price of the clock and what it looked like with our other furniture. After looking closely at all the clocks, I decided that I only liked two of the timepieces that were available.
The first clock was encased in wood with a mahogany finish. The clock was small and would have needed to be connected to the wall somehow. It had a golden pendulum that swung back and forth. The clock face was small and sweet with feminine looking hands. It did not make noise, except for what was caused by the rocking motion of the pendulum. I wanted it because it reminded me slightly of the grandfather clock my parents had when I was growing up.
The second clock had a gold colored metal exterior. The clock, while small in stature, had a face that was at least two times larger than the first. The face was stationed atop a small pedestal and would need to be placed on a flat surface. The clock’s hands looked as if they had spades attached at the end. With each “Tick. Tick. Tick.” the minute hand edged nearer to the next roman numeral.
And with each “tick. tick. tick.” I fell in love.
Excited about the clocks, Neylan and I left the store to find my husband as quickly as we could. We headed toward the hair salon, only to find that he was no longer there when we arrived. I decided to head to Best Buy, believing it was our best chance of finding him. He wasn’t there either.
Feeling frustrated, I started walking towards Macy’s when I heard a voice coming down from above.
“Hey! I was looking for you.”, he said.
“I was looking for you! I just left Best Buy. I figured you were playing with the Windows tablets or something.”
“I was looking around on the first floor then went to the book store to find you. Well, now that I know where you are, don’t move. I’ll be down in a minute.”
When he caught up to us outside Hollister, he said, “I have to show you something. I think you are really going to like it.”
“I have to show you something too. You seem very excited, so you go first.”
We followed him to, you guessed it, the antique store.
I chuckled out loud. “You have to be kidding me. This is where I was going to take you.”
As we entered the store, the manager said looked fairly amused. “I figured you two were together. You both went straight to the clocks.”
My husband went to the back wall and picked up the first clock that he wanted to show me. The first clock had a mahogany finish with a large rectangular base. It almost looked like the clockface was in the middle of a little hill the way that the wood elegantly curved up and around it. The face was rimmed with gold and the hands pointed to Roman numerals. It was a beautiful clock.
Except for one thing. It had a fake paper backing that I just couldn’t get over.
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, but I just don’t like it.” I said.
“Why not?” he asked.
“It looks like there’s a fake ‘green grainy wood’ paper background or whatever. I just don’t think that would add to the look of the house.”
“Oh. I didn’t even really see that. I still like the clock, but I know what you mean.”
I showed him the clock with the pendulum.
“Megan, we’d have to attach it to the wall. We aren’t supposed to attach anything to the wall. They’ll take that out of our security deposit.” My husband said, reminding me just how much we’d have to hook it to the wall.
“OK.” I said. “What was the other one that you liked?”
He reached over and chose a medium faced mantel clock with the word London above the hands and 1747 below them. I looked at him dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?” I asked, as my voice started to steadily climb in pitch. “That is the same one I was going to show you. I actually liked that one more.”
“Really?” He asked.
“Yeah. I thought it was perfect for the living room.”
“Well then, let’s get it!”
We brought the clock to the counter, allowed Neylan to pay for it, and excitedly talked and laughed about the story the entire way home.
The clock was a perfect fit for the top of our bookshelf and the story surrounding it is just one example of the perfect fit that we have with each other.
Megan A.K.A. “Mom”