A Quiet Kind of Cool

A Quiet Kind of Cool ©

There is no sex in this story.

I hated the rain. I sat in the cab of the truck watching it hit the windshield and listening to it bang on the roof. It wasn't a nice soft summer rain; it was a gully washer. When the wind blew, I could see the sheets of water washing across the parking lot. It wasn't a hurricane, but it sure looked like the newscasts that you saw on TV. The AC unit on top of the Heritage Cottage Buffet would just have to wait until it stopped. There was no way that I was going to go up on the roof and work on anything until the weather cleared. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to be here. Wednesday was my day to work in Allentown. Of course this was an emergency, and I was the best-qualified man for the job. Actually nobody else wanted to drive this far for a service contract job.

The Heritage Cottage Buffet is part of the York Holiday House Motel. It was one of the older types with outside entrances, but that was offset by the cheap rates. I think more people used the restaurant than the motel. Right now most of the guests were checking out. The maids were staying under the outside canopy, close to the building to avoid the rain. It was a long boring wait, that is until the beige VW convertible pulled into one of the closer parking spots. I could not make out the license plate number from across the lot, but I swear it looked just like my wife's bug.

Amanda and I had been married for almost twenty years. We had two daughters; Colleen who was 18 years old and starting as a full-time student at Kutztown University in three months, and Brenda, who just turned 16 years old and was now in full-fledged Goth rebellion mode. Two perfect opposites.

Although Amanda and I went to High School together, I didn't really meet her until later, when she was working as a waitress at a local diner. My time in school was not the happiest of my life. I had a terrible stutter as long as I can remember and the teenage angst that came with it was awful. I became withdrawn and sullen. I spoke only when it was necessary and then, usually, in as few words as possible. My teachers were instructed never to call on me in class. I don't know if that made things easier for me or harder. Most of my classmates considered me to be slow. I never felt that way, because I had no points of reference. I always knew when I was being taken advantage of or baited in some way. On occasions, I had resorted to physical means to stop some type of harassment and it always seemed to work.

I was halfway through a technical course in air conditioning repair when I finally got to meet Amanda. Actually, the first time that she took my order at the diner was the only time I spoke to her. I hadn't dated in school, for obvious reasons, and I had absolutely no social skills to speak of. For over a month, all I did was order my meal, eat it and leave; with a generous tip of course.

Amanda was always polite and always pleasant. I felt comfortable being close to her. It took a lot of courage on my part, but I did eventually ask her out on a date, which she readily accepted. She didn't seem to mind that I let her do all of the talking. When I did say anything, I tried to keep it monosyllabic. She was well aware of my speech impediment but was careful not to purposely mention it in any manner.

We dated for several months before things got serious; by that I mean sexually. It was obvious the first time, that I had no experience at all, but she was very understanding and was able to get us through it without too much embarrassment. Although I never mentioned it, I got a distinct feeling that she had done it all before. I really felt that it was her business and that I had no need to know what she did before she met me.

We had a small civil ceremony right after I finished tech school. I had a full-time job waiting and the pay was better than I had expected. Amanda continued to work at the diner until she got pregnant with Colleen. From there on, she was a full-time wife and mom. We weren't rich, but we were comfortable. Life was good.

Just out of curiosity, I kept trying to see the tag number on the beetle, but the heavy rain made it impossible. A silver Mercedes parked aside from the bug and an umbrella got out with a man under it. I was impressed with the way he coordinated the move. He walked to the VW and opened the driver's door. I felt a knot in my stomach, as I watched Amanda get out of her car and join arms with the man. They half ran and half walked to the motel canopy. They were laughing as he closed the umbrella and got out a room key from his coat pocket.

I sat in the parking lot for over two hours. The rain had stopped, but I didn't care. I got out of the truck just long enough to go over to the Mercedes and remove the vehicle registration from the glove box.

They finally came out of the room and were still laughing as they walked back to their cars. Before Amanda got into the VW, she gave her gentleman friend a quick kiss on the cheek; the kind that a wife gives her husband, not her lover.

She never noticed my truck sitting across the lot. She seemed to be oblivious to everything except her companion. I was crying as I watched both of them leave the lot. I never fixed the air conditioner at the Heritage Cottage Buffet.

It took less than an hour to get back to the shop. The boss was upset that I hadn't completed the job, but that changed to utter disappointment when I informed him that I was quitting. He didn't argue with me or ask for an explanation. When I got to the bank I cashed my severance check and withdrew all but $6000 dollars out of the various bank accounts. The savings account was supposed to go for the new house and the money market account held the girl's college fund money. Now they were both empty.

While I was driving to Kutztown, I realized that Brenda was never going to be going to go to college. The only thing lower than her grades was her attitude. I couldn't figure out what I had done to turn her against me, and I was afraid to ask. Actually, she was just as surely with her mother as she was with me. Colleen and Brenda were both raised exactly alike but turned out totally different. I felt a small pang of guilt, which quickly passed, as I paid Colleen's college tuition ahead for the full 4 years. It was close enough to home that I did not have to worry about dorm fees and a meal plan.

Amanda was home when I arrived. I took my wet boots off at the front door as I always do. She came out of the kitchen to meet me.

"John. What are you doing home at this time? I thought that you were supposed to be in Allentown all day."

As I walked passed her towards the bedroom, I smiled and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, similar to the one she had given her lover, three hours earlier. She looked perplexed when I did not respond to her question.

I had the first bag half-packed when she entered the bedroom.

"John? What the hell is going on? What are you doing?"

She just stood there as I continued to pack. All that I was taking was underwear, shoes, and my Dickies work clothes.

"Are you going to answer me? What happened? Just because you had a bad day at work is no reason to be leaving. I assume that you are leaving, because you are packing. Answer me damn it. I am your wife. You are supposed to share this stuff with me."

I paused momentarily and looked her way. She knew not to interrupt me or try to hurry my speech.

"I did not work in Allentown today." There was no hesitation and no stammering. It was a simple sentence, but I delivered it perfectly.

Amanda stood there quietly waiting for me to continue.

I finished my packing, and I paused again.

"I worked in York today." It was another short, simple, phrase and it also came out perfectly; slow and cool.

As I was getting my shoes from the closet, I noticed my wife quietly leave the room. She didn't say anything. She was sitting on the living room couch as I walked towards the front door. It took only a moment for me to put my work boots back on. I glanced back one more time before leaving. Her eyes were wet, but she was not crying, as she watched me go out the door. She offered no explanation and no apology.

I was just outside of Hagerstown when my cell phone rang. Under the circumstances, I guess, I would have had an easier time communicating if I had learned to text, but just using the cell phone was an achievement for me. It was Colleen.

"Hi dad. Where are you?"

"H-H-Hagerstown."

"Mom told us that you left and I just wanted to make sure that you were all right."

"I'm fine."

"Dad, is there anything that you want me to do? Is there any way that I can help?"

"No." It is difficult to have a lot of dialog with someone when the words don't come smoothly. There were a million things that I wanted to say to my daughter but didn't feel up to it.

"Mom told Brenda and me what happened. She wasn't very specific, but we both knew for a while now. I am not pleased that it happened, but I am glad that you finally found out."

"You and B-B-Brenda knew about it?"

"For about three years now."

"I f-f-feel foolish."

"Don't dad. Don't do that to yourself. You are a good father and a good husband. Don't you ever think otherwise."

I didn't answer her. I didn't know what to say and I didn't want to talk any more. It was too much to take in at one time. My stomach was churning, but I wasn't hungry.

"Dad? Dad? Are you there? Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. By the way, I p-p-paid your tuition at s-s-school for you. You are all set to go."

"I don't care about that. I care about you."

"Thanks, honey. I have to go now." I turned my phone off without giving her a chance to say anything else.

000#000

I was having supper at the Cracker Barrel in Harrisonburg when I noticed a small ad for a facility maintenance manager, with emphasis on air conditioning

and heating. After a quick phone call, I had an interview for the next morning. I never actually had an interview for any type of job before so I was a bit anxious. My obvious speech impediment did not help my confidence. If I got it; fine. If not; nothing lost.

Oakbrook Meadows was a small church-affiliated retirement home. It was old and looked as if it had been added on to several times. There was no structure or organization for the entire facility. It was a hodge-podge of buildings that desperately needed help.

"Good Morning! You must be Mister Tyson. My name is Don Watson. Do you mind if I call you John?"

"T-T-That's fine." We shook hands and I sat down.

For the next thirty minutes Don Watson gave me a complete history lesson about Oakbrook Meadows and verified the complexity of the enterprise. My initial observation was right on the money. It was a non-profit operation and they were having money problems keeping open. Over one hundred retired old people lived there as long as they could remain functional. When they got too sick or old to take care of themselves they were relegated to a state-run facility by law. The expense of outsourcing all of the repairs and upkeep was taxing their budget to the point that they were considering closing the whole place. Hiring a full-time maintenance superintendent was a last-ditch effort. Up until now, they were not having too much luck.

The salary that they were offering was really bad. What made the difference was the use of a small apartment in the basement of the main building and meals in the community dining room. It took me three days to make the apartment livable. The meals were good and convenient. It looked like things were going to be okay. I was happy.

There was a fully equipped workshop with a pile of mixed manuals and spare parts. The air conditioning and heating did not look like a problem, but I had no experience with things like dishwashers, ranges, and walk-in refrigeration units. Plumbing difficulties baffled me, but I rallied though them. I spent a whole weekend reviewing the facility insurance policies.

Things started out pretty slow. After tackling a few things that needed immediate repair, I did a complete inventory of items that did or would require some sort of maintenance or servicing. I tried to balance things a bit so I could mix some easy jobs with some more complex ones. That would take a bit of pressure off the day to day operation. Of course critical problems took priority.

It only took a few weeks to get settled into a comfortable routine. During the day I took care of business and at night I took care of making my new habitat livable. I kept my cell phone charged but turned off. I had a facility phone for work and an old windows 7 computer which I set up to keep track of maintenance. Don was happy with my work and I was happy with the situation as a whole. Life was good.

It had been over three months since I left. I decided to call Colleen on her birthday. This was my first contact since I left. I was surprised that no one had tried to get in touch with me and depressed that no one cared enough to try. Of course, my phone was turned off almost all of that time.

"Colleen! It's Dad. H-h-happy B-b-birthday!"

"Dad! How great to hear from you. You had your phone turned off. Where are you and what are you doing? I was worried about you."

"Slow down. One question at a t-t-time. I'm fine. I got a j-j-job and a place to live in. I am m-m-more concerned with h-h-how you are doing."

"School is good. I am in a dorm room with two other girls. I went on the meal plan rather than going home to eat. I have a part-time job at a sandwich shop near the campus."

"Do you n-n-need anything?

"No I am fine."

"Is everything else okay?"

"No, not really. Mom, of course is very depressed. She told Brenda and me what happened. I don't think she is sorry about what she did, but she is sorry that she got caught. She got a job at Zinn's diner, but I don't think she is making enough to keep the house. She sold all of your tools and stuff from the garage and is selling off furniture. The last time I talked to her she said that she was going to go to the bank about the mortgage payments. I think she is going to let the house go back."

"That's a shame. It was a n-n-nice house."

"Oh, by the way, Brenda is gone. A few weeks after you left, Brenda and mom got into a big row. In case you didn't know, you are not Brenda's biological father. It is some guy from Gettysburg named Samuelson. I think it is the guy that she was meeting the day you found out. In any case, Brenda left and sent a postcard from San Francisco."

"It seems as if I am the c-c-cause of a l-l-lot of misery."

"No, you are not, Dad. Mom brought all of this on herself."

"Colleen, give me your a-a-address. I will send you a power of attorney so that it will be e-e-easier for your mother to get r-r-rid of the house."

"You don't have to do that, but it would make it easier for mom."

---000---

The employees did not eat with the Oakbrook Meadows residents. They had their meals a bit later and in a separate section of the dining room. By this time, I was friends with the other employees and several of the inmates. I don't know why I thought of them as inmates, but it seemed appropriate. Ivy James soon became a regular at my lunch table. Ivy was in charge of the facility laundry. In fact she was the facility laundry. Most of the residents did their own wash in the community laundry area, which I also had to maintain. If there was a way to screw up a washer or dryer, they quickly figured it out.

Ivy was about forty or so. She wasn't a raving beauty, but she wasn't a dog either. I found out that she was single and had never been married. She worked hard and was in pretty good shape, as far as I could tell. She lived with her parents and they dropped her off and picked her up from work. What set her apart from everyone else and endeared her to me, was that she was deaf.

In no time at all I found myself spending more and more time with Ivy. She had a small note pad on a strap around her neck and used it when it was necessary. Normally she could manage pretty good without it. She could read lips quite well and for some reason I didn't stutter when I was with her. I didn't even have to say the words, I could just mouth them. It was a bit comforting for me. She never made me feel self-conscious about my affliction.

Our relationship improved when she invited me to spend Thanksgiving with her family. Her parents and sister were not hearing impaired. Her mother and sister were both proficient in ASL. Her father was good-natured about it but relied on the two women to interpret for him. They quickly picked up on my stutter and were careful to steer the conversation so that I could minimize speaking but still feel included. All in all it was a good experience. Ivy and I grew closer.

The Virginia School for the Deaf was located thirty minutes away in Staunton. I had no trouble enrolling in an evening ASL class, even in the midterm. I didn't say anything to Ivy, but she figured out something was going on when I started to pay more attention to her signing at different times. When I finally told her, she was beaming and offered to stay late to help me with my homework. The school explained that it would probably take about two years to become accomplished enough to carry on a simple conversation, but I had to start somewhere, and I was motivated.

Work was good. I had a social life of sorts, but I was not really dating. Every day the pain I felt at the loss of my marriage diminished more and more.

Colleen called and told me that she was coming down for Christmas. She didn't ask me, she told me. How could I refuse? Oakbrook Meadows had a few guest rooms available, so I had no trouble reserving one for her. I was a little anxious about her meeting Ivy, but it was not necessary. As soon as Colleen realized that Ivy was deaf, she started signing. She wasn't really good at it, but good enough that the two of them could converse at great length without me. Colleen had taken two courses while she was still in high school and was able to get advanced placement when she started college. Of course dear old dad knew nothing about this. It seems that she had already decided to major in special education at Kutztown.

We ended up spending most of the Christmas vacation time with Ivy and her parents. Of course I still had maintenance to perform. Things seemed to keep breaking even though it was a holiday. Colleen didn't seem to mind that I had to leave her on occasion. I was a bit embarrassed when I got a mistletoe kiss from Ivy, but Colleen seemed to enjoy my discomfort.

Before leaving, Colleen happened to mention that she thought that Amanda was still in touch with Jeff Samuelson. It was not something she had said to Colleen, but just little hints and things that she accidentally said or made references too. Colleen got the feeling that she was planning for something to happen in the future and was looking forward to it.

Two weeks later, I was served. She didn't ask for a thing. She just wanted the divorce. I signed everything and sent it back to her lawyer. The was only one thing that bothered me; I was pissed off. She had used me and taken advantage of me and then felt that she could just discard me when she no longer needed me. That was not right. I know! I know! I left her and I opened that door. It still was not right and I was left wanting some sort of balance. I was happy with my new life and normally should have just accepted my good fortune and moved on. I couldn't do it!

Ivy did not gloat when I told her about the divorce, but it was obvious that her spirits perked up a bit. She was still her same old self, but better.

My nights were sleepless, as I kept dwelling on the fact that I was used and taken advantage of. My pride was destroyed. She screwed around and I was the one that was hurt. I know it is the normal way that things go, but I still didn't like it. I needed closure.