Birthday Surprise

Three days later Terry and Todd paid me a visit. The car recovery trip went perfectly, but they were not looking forward to any bus trips in the near future. They didn't have any information about Kelsey or about their mother. They brought me two cartons of cigarettes, even though I don't smoke. Todd said he thought they would be valuable for trading. He saw too many movies. Jocko however was overjoyed when I gave them to him. He said he needed to smoke to keep his weight down.

I had no trouble leaving the boys in the house alone, and apparently neither did anyone else. Todd left for school the week before I got out of jail. He took the minivan and left the jeep for Terry. Terry and I celebrated my homecoming by going to a Red Lobster. He was excited about starting his last year of high school. Unfortunately, he was going to have to struggle through it without me. I had other plans.

Margie couldn't believe her eyes went I walked past her desk the next morning. I winked at her and went straight into Kelsey's office again. Three hours later I was back on the bus to the county jail: six months this time. Terry thought it was funny and immediately called his brother at College Station. Jocko welcomed me back with open arms. Phew.

I did a better job on Kelsey this time. I actually think I broke something. Of course, I never got any type of feedback, so I can't know for sure. I got fired from my job: big surprise. There was enough money stashed away to make the house payments and cover living expenses. Terry took care of everything with no problem.

In addition to Terry, all the other members of my family stopped by to see me on a regular basis. Terry made sure that I always had cigarettes for Jocko. Darla's sisters both came to visit, and offered sympathy. Neither them, nor anyone else in the family, had heard from Darla. We actually had a family Thanksgiving and Christmas celebration at the jail. I still had a month to go when I lost Jocko. I didn't really lose him, as he just got released before I did. His wife and brother had left for Florida and he didn't have any idea what he was going to do. Terry thought it was cool to have Jocko for a houseguest until he could get settled. He offered to get him a job with the tree trimming company, but Jocko decided he was going to move south, where it was warmer. I was thinking Florida.

The night before Jocko left, Kelsey Ridgeway was found in a downtown alley, beat to a pulp. He told the police he was attacked by an ape. I thought it was funny, because I had an iron tight alibi.

After my release, I decided that I had enough flesh from Kelsey. In fact, he was no longer working in the area and I didn't feel like looking for him. I took a course to learn how to drive big rigs. It wasn't much harder than the dump trucks that I was used to. I had to kill a few months until Terry started at Auburn, so I spent the time fixing up the house. I wanted to sell it, but it was in both of our names, and I didn't want the hassle.

No one had heard a word from Darla since she left.

Terry took the Mustang with him to Alabama, because it was a chick magnet. Never did much for me, but I wasn't young and good looking like he was. I found a couple that was willing to buy the house with 'a cloud over it.' I wasn't sure what that meant, but they got a good deal on the price. Their lawyer assured them that Darla's signature was not necessary and I wasn't about to argue with them. I just wanted out of it, free and clear. I used the down payment to buy a rig with a sleeper. Before I knew it, I was on the road and free.

I never bothered to apply for a divorce from Darla, because I never saw the need. I wasn't interested in getting married again. You don't meet a lot of interesting women in jail and Jocko turned me off to the alternative. It appeared that Darla wasn't interested in divorcing me either, because I didn't get a surprise in the mail.

I didn't have any trouble getting work. I wasn't desperate for money, so I was able to be a little picky about my loads. I never carried anything frozen, alive, toxic, or explosive. I also avoided any trip north of the Mason Dixon line in the winter. It didn't take long to learn the tricks of the trade, and I was actually enjoying my new life.

Things got interesting while I was delivering a load of farm equipment in South Dakota. It was June, so the weather was no problem. I dropped off the load and was moving south, about five miles off of I 90,when I stopped at the Belly-Up diner. It was a hole in the wall, but the parking lot was full of big rigs and cars. The attraction turned out to be breakfast, all day long and over the top in size and taste. Most of the customers were locals, but it looked like a few long haul drivers had gone out of their way to stop there. I just told the waitress to bring the house favorite and coffee.

Three big screen TVs were showing three different programs that nobody was really watching. The one closest to me seemed to be running mostly political ads, and one of them caught my eye.

John Hemmingway was running for the U.S. House of Representatives. He was good looking and seemed to have a silver tongue. Standing aside of him, dressed like Jackie Kennedy, with a big smile on her face, was his new wife, Darla: my Darla. My reverie was disturbed when the biggest plate of hash I ever saw was plopped down before me.

"There you go, big boy. Do you need anything else?"

"Tabasco."

The hot sauce was hidden behind the peppershaker. My server, Betsy, giggled a little as she moved it from its secret place to my plate.

"Are you good now?"

"Almost. Who is that woman standing beside that slick talker?"

She gave a little snort. "That's Hemmingway's new arm candy. He needed a wife so he could run for office. There was a rumor going around that he was not straight, if you know what I mean."

I started dumping the Tabasco on the pile of hash. "She looks a little old to be arm candy."

"I guess you can't be too choosy when you are in a hurry. She is pretty, however, and I think older women make better lovers, don't you agree?"

She did look good. Her blonde hair was now auburn and looked liked it had been styled at a fancy salon. Her make-up was perfect and the dress fit her like a glove. It wasn't exactly a dress, more like a tailored suit.

I took my eyes away from the television and noticed that my waitress had gone back to work. The hash was great and it was easy to see why the parking lot was full. My coffee cup got filled twice, before I cleaned my plate. The pie looked good, but I didn't have any room left.

Betsy took my empty plate and slid the check in front of me.

"Is he going to win the election?"

"Not if we can help it. He has big money behind him from important people in Sioux Falls. None of the locals want anything to do with him, but we don't have the votes or the money to stop him."

I was snickering as I pulled out my money clip.

"You know something, don't you?"

"Are you sure they got married?"

"Yep. They actually did it on TV, like it was a reality show or something. No honeymoon though. They said they were waiting until after he was in office."

I was still smiling when I dropped the ten on the counter.

"Mister, you better tell me something before you walk out that door."

"I am not looking for trouble and I am not sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. I would like a favor however?"

"What's that?"

"Can I catch a couple hours of sleep out front before I hit the Interstate."

"No problem, but watch out for those coke whores. They sneak up here every now and then. They are dirty, nasty bitches."

I nodded my appreciation and I was still smiling as I walked out the door. Betsy was watching from the window as I climbed into the rig.

I was just starting to enjoy some well-deserved sleep when the banging started on the door. I ignored it for a few moments, but it didn't stop.

"Go away. They said it was Okay for me to park for a couple hours." Whoever it was did not leave, so I was forced to open the door.

"Betsy said I had to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?" It was dark and it was raining. All I could see was a hard looking woman in a poncho."

"I didn't break any laws. Leave me alone."

"Just give me ten minutes." She looked and sounded determined.

"Sorry lady. I am not interested. Go get one of the other guys."

"I am not a hooker, damn it! I need to talk to you about Hemmingway."

"I'll meet you inside in ten minutes." That seemed to placate her. She had half a smile on her face as she closed the door.

Maybe it would have been better to just let her get into the rig, even though she was soaked. I checked my watch as I pulled out the rain gear. I only got three hours of sleep.

The restaurant still had a decent crowd. There was an area by the door that held all the rainwear. In a couple of months, that would all be snow gear and boots. She was sitting in a booth, by the front window, with two cups of coffee. Her hair was straight, and shiny black, with a small white streak on one side. Judging by her complexion, she was an outdoor type of girl: well tanned and not soft. Actually, she was nowhere near to being a girl; she was at least thirty-five, maybe pushing forty. The whole image was rounded out with high cheekbones and no makeup.

I held out my hand as I sat down. "Brian. Brian Connors."

"Sally Wilmot. Do you want anything to eat?"

"No thanks, I just had the hash special: three hours ago. I don't think I will be eating for a while."

She responded with a polite smile. "Betsy said that you might know something about Darla Hemmingway. I wanted to talk to you, before you took off."

"What the hell is so important about Darla Hemmingway?"

"My brother, Franklin is running against him in the election."

"Oh, I see. This is a personal thing."

"Not really. Franklin represents the people in the area: the farmers, ranchers and Native Americans. Hemmingway is looking out for the Sioux Falls businessmen. We are not anti-business, but we don't feel that a lot of people will get a fair shake if Hemmingway gets elected."

"Okay, but I still don't see what his wife has to do with any of this."

"We don't either. All we know is that something is not right. Our election committee tried to do a background check on her and ended up with nothing. His campaign people are not releasing any information about her. This might all be nothing, but we are getting desperate and Betsy said she thought that you might know something."

"I guess I better not become a professional poker player, if a waitress can read me that easily."

She leaned back in her chair. "Ah hah. She was right. You do know something. Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"

I finished my coffee and grinned. I found her choice of words amusing. In fact it was downright funny. I waved my empty cup at Betsy and leaned forward. " I think I like the second option best."

I have no idea what possessed me to say that. It was not in my nature to be a wiseass or use innuendoes. I guess it was because I liked her demeanor. She was confident and straightforward. I got the feeling that she always knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. Betsy finished the refills and Sally Wilmot was staring at me.

"I am sorry. That was rude and impolite of me to say that. I'll answer any questions that you may have."

Sally covered her mouth and let out a little laugh. "It's Okay Mister Connors. I am not that damn sensitive and I thought your answer was cute. I never should have asked the question the way I did."

"Oh good. That means the second option is still open."

"No damn it. How do you know Darla Hemmingway?"

"She is my wife. We have been married over twenty years and never divorced. I haven't seen her for a few years, but unless she got a divorce somewhere that I don't know about, we are still married."

Sally seemed to be at a loss for words. She didn't say anything at all. She just sat there staring at me.

"What did she use as a maiden name when she got married?"

She stammered a few seconds before speaking. "Oh my gosh. Her maiden name was Connors. The bitch didn't even try to cover it up. Whoopee!"

Of course Betsy came running over and all the heads in the place were turned towards us. I was a little embarrassed at the attention, but Sally seemed elated.

Sally jumped up and kissed Betsy right on the lips. She walked over the foyer area and took out her cell phone. Betsy was blushing a little and leaned over toward me. "What the hell did you tell her? I haven't seen her this excited in five years."

The smart ass that was hidden inside me for many years was starting to emerge. I looked up at Betsy and said, "I told her that you are I were going to get married." She immediately realized that it was a joke and I was rewarded with a punch on the arm. "Are you going to tell me?"

"No, I'll let Sally tell you. I am going to go back to my rig and see if I can get back to work. It's been nice meeting you Betsy."

The rain had stopped, but I never made it to the rig. Sally had me by the arm before I was half way.

"You can't leave yet. You have to talk to Franklin. It won't take long, just a few minutes."

"I'd really like to drop this whole thing. I am sorry now that I said anything to Betsy. How long will it take for him to get here?"

"He is going to met us at my place. Do you want to ride with me or follow in your truck?"

"I'll follow you." I felt better not having to depend on somebody else for transportation.

The Jeep wagon that Sally was driving was at least ten years old, and probably older. After a couple miles of macadam, we ended up on a worn out gravel road leading to an equally worn out doublewide trailer. Somebody was there, because the place was well lit up. There was no lawn, just more gravel, and not much of that. I tried to stay out of the mud, but it was difficult. There were no other cars around, so I assumed that Franklin was still on the way.

Just inside the trailer door was an area for wet coats and boots. It looked like a good idea, especially because there were plenty of coats and boots there already. It was an interesting layout, mainly because it looked more like a classroom than a living room. Instead of end tables there were desks. Instead of table lamps there were computers, and staring right at me were three teenage boys.

"Hi guys. This is Brian. He is here to help Uncle Franklin." Sally walked right over to the kitchen and started making coffee. I gave my audience a small nod, instead of saying hello. I felt a little awkward under the circumstances. I looked around the room, but saw nothing to indicate the presence of a 'Mister Wilmot." Having two sons, it was easy for me to see that the boys were close in age: I was guessing sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen. There was no TV or music playing. All three of them seemed to be either on a computer or reading a book. The odd thing was that they did not look bookish or nerdy, but like normal, robust, and active kids.

"Brian. These are my sons. The older is Tracey, next is Tyler, and the youngest is Tanner." They each smiled and nodded to me in turn. I could not resist grinning, to the point where my amusement was obvious.

"I know. It is a little odd that we gave them names that all started with the letter 'T.'

"No. No. That's not why I am amused. It is just that I have two sons named Todd and Terry. I thought that that was a hell of a coincidence."

Tyler was the first of the boys to speak. "Where are your sons?"

The question got him a stern look from his mother, which he seemed to ignore.

"Todd is at Texas A&M and Terry is at Auburn." That simple statement lit up the whole room. All of a sudden Tracey came alive, as if the energizer bunny zapped him.

"I am leaving for College Station in August. How long has he been there? What is he studying?" Sally finally touched his shoulder. "Slow down, boy, slow down. I am sure that Mister Connors has time to answer all your questions."

As it turned out Tracey had a full football scholarship, and was already signed up for ROTC. Tyler had been accepted at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis and was leaving in a year. Sally's husband had been in the National Guard and was killed in the gulf, five years ago. She didn't offer any more details than that, and I didn't push for any. Tanner, the youngest of the boys hadn't decided what he wanted to do yet, but his mother was still making sure that he hit the books on a regular basis.

I had no idea what was holding Franklin up, but for the next hour I was busy talking to Sally's sons about anything and everything. Sally just stayed to the side and watched as I connected with them, just as I had connected to my own. Being with Sally's kids made me realize how much I missed my boys.

Franklin Honeycutt finally arrived with two associates. After the introductions, Sally put the boys back to work while the adults gathered around the kitchen table. There seemed to be some doubt about my claim to be Darla's husband and it was not important enough to me to get into an argument about it. As I got up to leave, I thanked Darla for the coffee and told the boys that it was nice to meet them. Sally would have no part of it.

"Damn it Brian, sit down." The rest of the faces around the table sat silently.

Sally took over the conversation as if she was the one running for office. "Brian, do you have a marriage license or something to prove that you are married to Darla Hemmingway?"

It only took a few seconds to pull a wedding picture from my wallet. She was older now and her hair was different, but you could still tell that it was Darla. I looked over at one of Franklin's flunkies that had a laptop in front of him. " Go to the Berks County, Pennsylvania office of records. You should be able to log on to marriage licenses from 1960 to 1990. Just do a search for my name: Brian William Connors."

Sally brought me a fresh cup of coffee and a small smile. She seemed glad that I didn't quit.

Flunky number one turned the laptop screen toward Franklin. "August 17th, 1979, is that right?" Franklin seemed a little happier now.

I nodded and sipped my fresh brew. "Good luck finding any kind of divorce record. As far as I know, or anyone else knows, I am still married. Feel free to investigate any of this as much as you would like. It makes no difference to me."

The conversation began to get a little redundant and a little boring. This time, no one stopped me as I got up.

"Do you mind if I catch a few Z's in your drive way, before I leave?"

"No. Not at all." Sally walked me to the door. I looked back to bid fair well to Franklin and his cronies, but they were deeply engrossed in whatever it is that politicians do. The boys each gave me a small wave or nod as I left.

An hour later, I heard Franklin and his group leave. I figured that I was all set for the night, finally, when I heard the rapping on the door again. Sally jumped into the cab with a flannel nightgown on. She put her finger up to her mouth, indicating that she didn't want me to speak. We were far enough away from the house that the boys couldn't hear anything, but I think she just didn't want any conversation. She spent at least an hour with me in the sleeper. It was passionate and loving, but a little uncomfortable. Rig berthing arrangements are great for sleeping, but that is about it. I did the best that I could under the circumstances. She left as quietly as she came. No words were spoken.

The sun was up when the door started making noises again. It was Tanner, telling me to come into the house for breakfast. Luckily, boys and men like the same kind of food, and Sally knew how to make it. I spent another hour chatting with the guys, and felt fairly comfortable: comfortable enough to ask Sally for permission to take a warm shower before leaving. An hour later I was finally on the road, but not for long.