Broken Hearts On Boulevard Unirii novel Chapter 58

I told her that I was planning to come home in a few days.

I stood at the window of my apartment that overlooked the street, and observed all sorts of people walking to and fro. There were young couples walking together hand in hand, mothers with baby carriages and older people walking alone. The cafés were full of self-indulgent youngsters sitting and drinking beer, smoking and laughing and making comments to every girl that passed.

"Why could this not have happened when I was thirty, or forty?" I thought to myself. Today, now that I am over fifty, married, a father and grandfather, everything looked different. I knew the end is near and I am just trying to hang on a bit longer. I felt like a terminally ill patient who remained alive a while longer because of the treatment he received.

I called Oana. She didn't sound like herself, but rather formal. I suspected that she could not speak because she was with someone, but that was not the case. She told me that her father had died two days ago and that the funeral had already taken place. I told her how sorry I was to hear the news and asked her if there was anything I could do to help.

She asked if she could come to see me. I was very happy to hear that and told her I was waiting for her in my apartment.

After fifteen minutes, I decided to go down and wait for her in the street. When she didn't arrive, I crossed the street, went into a pub and took a seat from where I could watch the entrance of the building. After sitting for half an hour drinking beer and nibbling on roasted peanuts, I saw her coming. I got up, went outside and called her. As soon as she noticed me she ran over and hugged me.

"Come and sit down. What would you like to drink?" I asked.

"Beer, only if they have Effes beer," she said.

"What took you so long?"I asked.

"Those lousy busses," she replied.

"Why didn't you take a taxi?"I asked, surprised.

"I didn't have money for a taxi. I didn't even have money for bus fare. It was a good thing that the conductor didn't come around to inspect," she answered.

"How come you have no money?" I asked.

"I gave all my savings to my mother so that she could bury my father," she replied.

He asked her if there were any couplings and fittings in the pipes or were they one piece. She answered that, only when absolutely necessary, fittings were used. In the expense report she had submitted to me, it said that the all pipes were German-made PVC and all fittings were of copper.

I asked the plumber to remove some tiles and expose the pipes. I could not believe my eyes. One coupling followed by a second and a third was slowly revealed. Furthermore, on the pipes I could see the letters PRC (People's Republic of China) impressed on it. The pipes were made in China out of the cheapest materials and water was leaking from nearly every fitting.

Screaming at Dorina I said, "I warned you that there should be no fittings in the piping."

She didn't answer, just went out to the balcony and lit a cigarette. Angrily I followed her.

"They cheated me," she said. "They charged me for German-made piping and instead gave me Chinese junk that costs half the price."

I didn't believe her, "You're lying; it's in your blood to steal." I yelled at her.

I calmed down both my tenant and the neighbor, telling them that I would pay all the expenses for the repairs as well as any damages. I gave the plumber my phone number and told him to repair the damage as soon as possible, even if it meant replacing all the pipes.