Intellectually I knew that I was fooling myself--making excuses like I was some ethically-challenged politician. Emotionally -- well that's another story. I felt like I was being a combination award-winning psychiatrist and white knight at the same time, as I walked up the steps of the house that I had almost completely renovated.
****************
I had a comfortable marriage. My wife Evelyn Blanton is intelligent, kind, considerate, charitable, and attractive. I most often felt that she was too good for me, and that I was lucky to have married her. Our two kids were well-adjusted and fun. We made enough money so that we didn't have any financial worries except for saving for our kids' college educations if they wanted to go to the private schools Evelyn and I had gone to, Northwestern and Stanford.
The only -- and I mean only -- way that our life was less than optimum as far as I was concerned was the fact that at this stage my libido was much more intense than Evelyn's. We used to have sex four-six times a week almost without exception. In the last two years it was reduced to once or twice. While Evelyn is still loving and liked to cuddle and have body contact, her desire for balls out fucking -- or even gentle lovemaking -- had clearly diminished.
Things moved along smoothly as practical until Evelyn decided that we had not done enough outreach into our community. Although intellectually I was as charitable as Evelyn I hadn't really done many worthwhile things for people less fortunate; with Evelyn's prodding that was about to change. "Drake," she started out, "we really should give more back to the community because the need is great and we want to set a good example for our kids. This upcoming weekend, Drake, let's explore some options." So the next weekend the entire Blanton family started on our charitable quest in earnest.
One of the local charities that needed assistance, Bridge of Hope normally just referred to as "BOH," dealt with single mothers who had their own small house or apartment but were at or just above the poverty level. Evelyn decided that BOH was the charity where we could do the most good.
I'm handy around the house and with anything mechanical (such as gasoline powered vehicles -- any electrical one more complicated than a golf cart is out of my league however) so I did odd jobs for any client of BOH who needed help while Evelyn gave practical life or employment advice to the moms, and both of us helped out the client's kids sometimes with our kids assisting if the kids we helped out were about the same age as ours.
Things went along well in our work for BOH for about nine months. We usually spent about four-eight hours a week helping out, and it turned out to be more emotionally rewarding for me than I expected. The clients were universally grateful and there is no doubt that we had a positive effect on their lives.
After about the nine month period working for BOH and our reputation for effective helpers was established, Evelyn and I were asked to take a special interest in some specific mothers who were having a particularly hard time.
Evelyn was asked to help mothers named Benita and Jill while I was asked to help Charlene. In the past Evelyn and I often -- but not always -- worked together with clients, but the director said the need was so great for these three women she wondered if we could work apart for a while.
Charlene had both practical and emotional problems. She had been diagnosed with depression and except when interacting with her two children was just going through the motions of life. Her depression and other emotional problems had gone into overdrive when her worthless husband had left her about a year ago.
Charlene's major practical problem was lack of money, especially with rent for her rental house. She was two months behind on her rent and her landlord was talking eviction.
Charlene is a small woman -- probably five feet one inch tall, maybe 105 pounds -- who is of vague origin. If I guessed I would say that she is likely 75% Scottish or Irish heritage, with definite unspecified Asian and Native American mixes thrown in. I don't think that anyone would call her beautiful -- I certainly wouldn't -- but she also is not unattractive.
While Charlene appears to have innate intelligence she is one of less than 1% of American women who have a diagnosed autism spectrum disorder, although her case wasn't severe. She definitely is verbal and seems to have an inherent ability to take care of children. Her two kids, girls aged three and four, do not appear to have autism and are well taken care of by her.
Likely because of her autism, however, Charlene has a very difficult time doing anything around her rented house to maintain it and she is terrible with money.
Noticing the poor condition of her rental house and to try to lobby on her behalf to prevent eviction I went to see her landlord. Her landlord, Jeff Tipton, is an elderly gentleman who is well-meaning but has his own issues. He never does anything to maintain Charlene's small rental house because he can't do things himself and he is too cheap to hire anyone, and he was concerned about the missing rent checks even though he seems to have plenty of money so he wasn't going to lapse into poverty himself with Charlene's payments.
When I went to see Jeff I made it clear to him that his lack of attention to Charlene's house could pose significant legal problems for him. After his song and dance about no skills of his own to help and his own (fake) level of poverty I provided him with a solution.
"Look, Jeff, I have a proposal for you. I will fix up the house that Charlene rents and keep it in good working order without cost to you for labor or materials. In return you'll forgive her last two rent payments and will cut her future rent in half. The value that my work will add to the house will be at least three times what you will lose on the rent; and here's proof." After I said that I gave him a complete analysis of what I intended to do and what value that would add as projected by a real estate appraiser who was one of the other volunteers for BOH.
After fully reviewing my documentation it took Jeff about three minutes to agree; I presented him with a rental contract with those provisions for him to rent the house to Charlene for the next two years, extending month-to-month after that, and he signed on the dotted line.
Although I'm not sure that Charlene understood all of the details, she was very happy -- her first sincere smile since I met her was proof of that -- with it too since it meant that her meager earnings from working a part time job at home and her public assistance would insure no food insecurity for her family for the next two years, and she could even buy some clothes or appliances -- with my help in purchasing them, however, since as I said she was bad with money and had only a rudimentary understanding.
It took a little while for me to get used to what Charlene meant when she was talking since her thoughts weren't always particularly well organized (especially when she was excited), and except with her kids she had difficulties communicating. However, once I got used to her I found her to have a pleasant and humorous personality, not like I expected for someone on the autism spectrum. The social worker who helped her out told me that after I had worked with her for about three weeks Charlene's mood had dramatically improved and if she still had depression no one could tell by her demeanor and smile.
I read up on autism as I worked with Charlene and found that many functioning people with autism have one or two subjects on which they are an expert. Charlene never exhibited what subject or subjects she was an expert on (except child care) until I had gotten to know her for a couple of months.
