The Makeover (19 page)

“Phoenix,”
Paulo ground out from a kind place that could only come from God, “I’m so sorry
you’ve had such a rough time.  I can only imagine what you’ve been going
through.  I am going to help you, alright?  It looks like you’re busy
with school work, so I am going to clean up your apartment while you
work.  Then I’m going to make you a nice, healthy meal and then we’re
going to talk.”

Phoenix was
startled at the kindness of his voice.  She was sure that Paulo’s disgust
would triple once he saw the rest of the apartment.  She had not cleaned
since that fateful night with Cedric.  Even the bedroom had broken glass
and plaster everywhere.  “Paulo, thank you for trying to help me but you
don’t have to all that.  I haven’t had the time…or the energy to do
anything besides work and school lately.  It’s a miracle I shower every
day at this point.  I know this place is disgusting, and I’m not usually
like this, but—”

Phoenix’s
tears, welling up in her throat, cut off the words she hoped would keep Paulo
from looking down at her any further. 

The words
helped and her tears broke his heart.  Clearly, she was depressed. 
He crossed over to where she sat surrounded by papers and textbooks on her
sofa.  He bent to his knee and grabbed her hand, feeling that this broken
women needed the soothing touch of another human being.  “
Shhh
, Sweetie.  I’m sorry for coming across so rough
earlier.  I was frustrated at you for not letting me help you, frustrated
that God wouldn’t let me give up on you, and frankly, quite surprised with what
I see going on here.  But I have no right to judge you.  I’ve been
right where you are.  I’ve been so depressed that I functioned on autopilot
and cared little about
how
I was living because I was struggling just to
live every day.   Sometimes—because it’s been so long since I hit my
rock bottom—I forget that.” Paulo stood.  “Actually, it was the Lord who
reminded me of my own tough times and how I survived only by His mercy. 
It’s my turn to show someone mercy.  Let me help you, okay?”  He
reached for Phoenix’s shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

Phoenix
searched her apartment, more disgusted by what she saw as her eyes processed
the filth she had been trying to function within for two months.  “How can
you help me?  More prayer?”

“Yeah, and by
cleaning up the mess.”

“I don’t know
how I got here, Paulo.  I really don’t,” Phoenix whispered.

“Phoenix, you
are
a psychologist.  You know that how you’re living on the outside—your
appearance, your home, this chaos—is a reflection of—”

“How I feel on
the inside,” Phoenix nodded.  “Yeah, I know.  But I don’t know how I
got
here.”

When she looked
up at him with her deep, sorrowful eyes so wide, so glistening, and
so…trusting, Paulo felt something inside of him twist and pull at the base of
his gut.  Paulo had to swallow and breathe to resist the urge to grab her
and pull her into a tight, strong hug.  He wanted to lay her head on his
shoulder and rub her back and let her cry.

But Paulo
worried, because he felt in his heart that Phoenix could not handle such
intimacy without quickly becoming dependent on it.  It wasn’t time for
Phoenix to depend solely on Paulo with God’s help.  It was time for
Phoenix to depend solely on God with Paulo’s help.  

Or was a hug an
extension of God’s help?

Paulo pondered
this dilemma as he patted her one last time on her shoulder and stood. 
“You concentrate on your work.  I’ll concentrate on this place.”

He turned and
walked to the kitchen, praying along the way that he would surrender to the
work God was leading him to do, without judgment, without grumbling, and
without pride.

But he did have
to call on the Lord several times when he opened the pot of rotting short ribs
and nearly passed out from the stench of the maggot-covered meat in the pot.

“Jesus! 
Please…” Paulo yelped as he tied the pots and pans in shopping bags, before
placing them in an industrial-sized garbage bag.

“Phoenix?”
Paulo called in a syrupy-sweet voice from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”
Phoenix’s voice quavered with the shame she felt the moment she heard Paulo
calling out to God for strength.

“I think you’re
going to need new pots, Hun.  There’s no cleaning these, okay?”

“You need help
in there?” Phoenix sighed.

“Uh, no. 
The only help that will help
me
is help from God, Sweetie!”

In spite of
herself, Phoenix giggled as she went back to her paper.

Chapter 12

Therefore,
since we have these promises, dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything
that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for
God  (2 Corinthians 7:1).

Four hours
after first storming into Phoenix’s apartment, Paulo brought out a tray. 
“It’s time for a break, Honey.”

Phoenix’s head
snapped up.  She looked around her, amazed before taking off her
glasses.  She rubbed her bleary eyes, before putting her glasses back on
to take another look.  “Wow.  You were so quiet working around me
that I barely noticed you were here.” 

She stood and
marveled at how neat her living room was, save for her small work area around
her place on the sofa.  “Oh my goodness.  I can’t believe you cleaned
up my apartment!  My floors are actually shining.  Thank you so
much!” 

“Yeah, well,
God is good, isn’t He?” Paulo grinned as he placed the tray of food on the
table.  “You’ve been so engrossed in your work that I couldn’t distract
you if I tried.  What are you working on anyway?”

“My
dissertation.  It’s called ‘Intergenerational transmission of self-hatred
in dysfunctional mother-daughter relationships.’”

Paulo
whistled.  “I guess the title speaks for itself.  I am glad you are
looking at it from a psychological standpoint.  Perhaps you can enhance
your findings by looking at from a spiritual standpoint as well.”

Phoenix
shrugged, surprised that she was not offended by his suggestion.  “It
can’t hurt, I guess.”

“Come over here
and eat with me.  I think we both deserve a break.”

The fresh scent
in her living room motivated Phoenix to do something first.  “Can you give
me a quick second?”

“Sure,” Paulo
said, as he walked back to the kitchen to retrieve utensils and drinks.

Phoenix rushed
into her sparkling bathroom to splash cold water on her face and to brush her
thick hair into a neater pony tail.  She ran back towards her bedroom to
find that everything had been put in a place in a neat and orderly fashion. 
All of the broken glass and plaster had been swept up.  Her perfumes were
lined up neatly on top of her freshly dusted dresser, while the bed Phoenix
refused to sleep in had been stripped of its soiled, dusty sheets and replaced
with fresh linens.  Even the piles of clothes all over the floor had been
placed in large garbage bags, ready to be laundered.  Phoenix went into
her drawers and found each of them had been organized.  She was stunned
because she had not even noticed that Paulo had gone into her bedroom. 
She didn’t know whether to be thankful or ashamed that a strange man had
rearranged her private things.  She giggled when she realized her drawer
full of undergarments remained untouched.  Still a part of her felt
mortified at what Paulo must think.

Shrugging off
the negative thoughts, Phoenix took off the old muumuu and stepped into a fresh
tee shirt and shorts.  She kicked off her ratty slippers and slipped into
closed-toe flat slides.  She wanted to wear flip flops but her toes had
not seen a nail shop in ages.

She came out
with a renewed smile.  “That’s better.”

“Yes,” Paulo
nodded as he held out a chair for her.  “You look much better now.”

Phoenix sat,
thanking him again for his politeness, and looked at the meal.  Because
the day was so hot, she was grateful that Paulo had made potato salad with
lettuce and tomatoes on pita bread.  He also cut up slices of apples,
oranges, kiwi, and green grapes for a simple fruit salad.

Phoenix shook
her head.  “I don’t know how to thank you, P.  This is the nicest
thing anyone has ever done for me and I don’t even know you…” her voice trailed
off as she stared at him.  A tear slipped down her cheek.

Before Paulo
could respond, the doorbell rang.  Phoenix jumped up to answer the
door.  When she opened it, a man in a blue uniform was standing there with
a huge cart.  “Laundry pickup?”

Phoenix
blinked, “Uh…um, what? I didn’t—”

“Hey,” Paulo
interrupted, appearing in the doorway with the large garbage bags that he
passed to the man.  “Here you go.  Please tell me, what time will
these be delivered?”

“Tomorrow
afternoon.” the man answered, looking at his sheet.  “Around four? 
Cash on delivery.”

“You guys are
to charge it to my account.  I told them already.  Here, let me
sign.”

After Paulo
signed the order form, he handed the guy a ten dollar tip.  “God bless
you, Man.”

Phoenix was
beside herself.   “You…you’re having my laundry done too?”

Paulo
grinned.  “I was thinking about running downstairs to just do it myself
while we ate, but I don’t think I’m supposed to handle your undergarments so—”

Phoenix was
shaking her head and fanning herself, as tears flooded her cheeks.  “I
can’t believe…”  she burst into more tears.  “Thank you,” she
whispered.

Good, keep
crying.  Keep letting it out,
Paulo thought as he reached over and
caught the tears on his index finger.   

 “No,
Sweetie, thank God.  I’m just doing what
He
told me to do.  I
can’t take credit for this at all, believe me.”  Paulo chuckled to himself
as he remembered just how desperately he
raged
against God’s plan for his new friend.  He grabbed her hand and led her
back to the dining table.  Once she was seated, he made her a plate.

“Still,
Paulo.  You came in here after I ducked and dodged you—like you said—for,
like, weeks, and actually cleaned up my apartment!  You’re paying for my
laundry to get done?  I mean, who does that?  Then you make me
food?  It’s too much. 
You’re
too much.”  Phoenix said,
her eyes wide and sparkling as her gratitude shifted into admiration…and
something else as they devoured every inch of his gorgeous face.

It was the
something else that caused Paulo’s eyes to swing away from hers as he began to
arrange his own plate.  “Uh, let us pray.”  He grabbed her
hand.  “Father, we thank You.  I thank You for using me and for
allowing us this time of fellowship.  Please bless our meal.  Please
continue to have Your way in Phoenix’s life and in mine.  Please draw us
both closer to You and lead us in this new…friendship, arrangement, or whatever
this will be in Your timing.  In Jesus’ Name we pray, thanking You,
Lord.  Amen.”

“
Hmmmm
…amen,” Phoenix echoed, reluctantly, before digging
in.

For a while
they ate silently until Phoenix said.  “This is good.  I’ve eaten
potato salad a thousand times.  But this is different.  It’s spicier
than I’ve had.”

“Yeah, I’m big
on spicy, Phoenix.  I’m Brazilian, remember?” He chuckled. 
“Actually, not all Brazilian foods are spicy but I am from the Northeast
region, known as Bahia, where our foods tend to be spicier.  This dish is
called
salada
de
batata
com
atum
. 
It’s basically a potato salad
mixed with tuna, very similar to potato salad recipes from here and around the
world.  I was going to make a plain tuna salad, but when I saw you had
potatoes, I decided to pull out my mom’s special recipe.”  He smiled then
took another forkful.  “I know the starch will give you energy as
well.  Starch is good…in moderation.”

“Hmmm, well
it’s perfect for today, thank you.  I love spicy foods too.  What’s
the spice in this?” Phoenix said, arranging the salad on a bed of lettuce
before taking another huge bite of the refreshing meal.  She took a bite
of the toasted, buttered whole grain pita bread next.

“Well, my
mãe
…
my mother, she uses jalapenos.  I
added a tiny touch of freshly grated ginger as well.”

Phoenix
wrinkled her nose.  “Hmmm, really?  Ginger?  I can feel its heat
but couldn’t make out the taste.  It’s good, but why
ginger?
”

Paulo
laughed.  “Ginger is a great remedy for so many ailments.  I use it
to cure everything from gas and bloating to fatigue and sluggishness. 
Sorry to say it, but you looked a bit…drained when I first got here.”

Phoenix looked
down. 
Of course I looked hideous.  I always do. 
She
continued to chew through her rapidly decreasing appetite.

“Phoenix?”

She kept
staring at her plate and chewing.

“Phoenix, look
at me!” Paulo commanded in a booming voice.

She looked up
but refused to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t say
you looked unattractive.  I said you looked…tired.”  Paulo grabbed
her hand.

“Uh-huh,”
Phoenix answered, tugging her hand away.  “I get it.” 

“So I thought
the ginger would give you a boost of energy, along with the fruit and my famous
iced
chá
mate
gelado
com
limão
.
”

“What’s that?”
Phoenix asked in a low voice.  “I’m mesmerized by the exotic name of the
drink.”

With a rueful
shrug and smirk, Paulo responded, “Iced tea with lemon.”  He lifted the
glass to Phoenix’s face and held her eyes with his own.  “Try it,” he
gently commanded.

Phoenix grabbed
the glass and sipped.  “Wow.  That is good.  It’s sweet.”