Take A Chance!

"Wow," I said, "My own cup."

Arlene grinned, "You rate buddy." Then she unconsciously upped the ante, "You remember I always triple decker liked you!"

All those old memories swept back over me. Sure I remembered our high school break up, the memory of that first post-graduation Halloween, that guy Gary, and the sight of her big pregnant belly intruded slightly, but they were quickly swept away by all the good things the happy times, those wonderful occasions when we were a couple. I remembered how deeply and completely I once loved her.

Then I ruined it, "You have a child don't you Arlene?"

She instantly went on guard, "Yeah, I do."

I blindly pushed on, "Boy or girl?"

She tersely replied, "Boy."

I asked, "Really what's his name?"

Arlene murmured, "Calvin."

I was stopped cold; her child was named after me. I replied, 'Oh, well, got to go now, see you tomorrow." I left. I spent the rest of the day just thinking about Arlene, her boy, and the fact that she'd tagged him with my name. It didn't make sense.

Tongues a Wagging:

The average person can't fathom what it might be like living in a small town where too many older people have too much time on their hands. You get a situation like that and the gossips will go hog wild.

Everybody that grew up in their fair town knew at least some of the Calvin-Arlene story, and those that didn't were more than willing to fabricate something. But what really got the tongues a going was how the two former lovebirds acted once they were around each other each morning. Most everyone agreed the two youngsters probably didn't even know what they were doing, but everybody else sure did, all the old folks that is. Just a few little snippets of the gossip are enough to tell the tale.

There was old man Martin. He'd worked for the railroad for fifty years, and ran the station for most that time. Accustomed to being up before dawn as it was, he was a regular at Arlene's little shop. Willing ears all over town heard his observations.

There was his one Monday comment, "Do you see how Arlene waits till the McCabe boy gets to her place. Then just before he takes his seat she's at it unbuttoning the top three buttons on her blouse and a tucking it in so she can show him her cleavage. I tell she's trying to make an impression"

Not to be outdone Mrs. Wilkins, housewife and neighbor to the Browns, "You ought to see the way that girl works when young Cal shows up each morning. She just skips around there in her little mini-skirt just a making sure he gets the best seat at the counter so she can lean over and talk to him."

Mrs. McElroy always had a good one, "I think she rolls her mini-skirts up a notch or two just before Cal gets to her place."

Just listen to Mrs. Harkins; the widow from down the street, "My goodness, don't you love it the way she looks herself over in the mirror as soon as she sees his car pull up. My Lord she primps and pampers like a school girl so she can look just right when he walks in. I tell you, every hair in place, lipstick freshened, eye-shadow redone, hands all freshly washed so he can see her clear nail polish, and mascara done up just right."

Now don't get me wrong cited Ms. Owens the town old maid, "Don't you see how that young man frets over his hair, and adjusts his suspenders so they're just right before he walks in the diner. You'd think he was headed for a job interview!"

My lands piped in Mrs. Abernathy one morning, "That boy doesn't walk in into her little diner he makes a grand entrance. He sure wants to make that big morning impression. I think he practices his smiles just before he goes in the door, just so he can look his best."

Then old Mr. Clackenbush might have capped it off with something like, "I just don't know how long he's going to able to hold that marriage together with that young blond girl, what with our Arlene looking so pretty and sexy for him each morning."

+++++++++++++++++++++

Yes sir the gossips were out, and out in force, but they weren't talking about anything everybody didn't already know. Young Cal McCabe and that pretty little Arlene Brown were a couple that was meant to happen. Everybody'd known it ever since he'd chucked that first rock at that sweet little thing way back when they were in grammar school.

Time moves on:

Arlene went home that night and played with her little darling extra hard. Her little lad, her sweet lovable little man meant more than to her than anything. He'd become a little talker too.

Little Cal cried out, "Mommy you're playing too much with me now. You're squeezing me too tight. Stop now."

She picked him and held him so close, "Oh you're my little hero, my special little man, my oh so special little soldier. I love you so much I could just eat you up."

Then he asked her the question he asked every single night, "Mommy can I go to work with you tomorrow?"

Arlene tried to keep him away from the diner as much as she could. There were good reasons for that. First it was dangerous. He was a busy bee, and hard to keep up with. She was always afraid he might climb around on the furniture or maybe get caught or burned on the equipment. Then second, he always ended up becoming something of the center of attention. Everybody and his brother wanted to pick him up, but he was just too much her little boy for her to be comfortable with that. Third, it always drove people to speculation. She'd never let on who the father was, and whenever he showed up for any length of time people would start whispering, conjecturing, and conferring, and it always led them back to the fact he was born out of wedlock. She didn't want her mistake to interfere with his happiness. Then there were the men, the machos, the protectors. When little Cal was around there was always somebody ready to take her on, make her as they said 'an honest woman', some guy was always ready to be the 'stand up', the guy who'd say, "Arlene you need a man for that boy." She knew that, she just knew none of them fit the bill. Then last there was Big Cal; what if he saw her boy and realized how much alike they looked. He'd know then for sure! That was what really scared her.

"Mommy, take me to your diner. I want to see all the people."

She gave in, "OK, maybe later this week."

"What day mommy?"

"Maybe Thursday."

"OK, mommy, oh boy!"

Susan:

Susan checked her cell phone. There were two numbers. She punched in Devin's office phone, no answer. She tried his cell and left a text, "I'm bored, Susan."

Five minutes later her cell phone rattled away. She picked up, "Hello."

It was Devin, "Susan?"

She lost her composure for a split second, but recovered. Unconsciously she fixed her hair, "Oh Devin, you called back."

He commented, "You said you were bored."

She whispered, "It's terrible. There's nothing to do."

Devin felt a tightness in his loins. Susan always got to him. He hadn't been with anyone in three days. He reached down and scratched himself, "Want to get together?"

She replied, "Just to talk."

He offered, "How about that breakfast place in the north end of your town?

She answered, "Thursday?"

He completed her thought, "How about 1:00 p.m."

She sighed, "See you then." As she turned off her phone she said to herself it's just a meeting to talk. I'm not going to do anything. We'll just talk. She knew better.

Big Cal's First Dilemma:

I kept wondering, worrying, "Why did Arlene name her boy Calvin? I've got to look into this." I decided to take Thursday off. It was the best day; most people were out playing golf or something on Thursdays anyway. I'd go in early as usual. Check for any messages, any fast breaking activity. If there weren't any emergencies, then I could take the rest of the day, drive around town, and ask a few discreet questions. All night Wednesday I sat and made lists; who should I see, who would be most amenable to questions, who would be the most likely to keep my visit to themselves? I settled on a few older people. I'd ask them, and if I got up the nerve I'd go visit Arlene's parents.

That Thursday morning I didn't go inside the restaurant; I got my coffee and bagel at the drive through. I think Arlene noticed; I imagine she thought that was odd.

++++++++++++++++++++

Arlene watched Cal drive away. Damn she'd bought a new blouse and worn it this morning just to show off for him.

++++++++++++++++++++

I went in to my office, found nothing going on, left a note for my secretary, and left.

My first visit was to old Al Matthews. Al was nearly eighty years old and ran the barber shop. He was closed on Wednesdays, but l knew he was always open for business first thing on Thursday. I used to go to Al's for a cut. Al had one style. It didn't matter what you asked for, if it wasn't a child's buzz, it was an old fashioned G.I. whitewall. I wasn't going for a cut, but if it meant getting the sides of my head scraped clean I'd let Al do it.

When I got there four men were already lined up for 'the cut'. I sat down to politely wait my turn. Pretty soon I realized I didn't need to ask Al hardly any questions. The men were all older, they'd lived in town all their lives, and they seemed to have read my mind.

Old Mr. Benson owned the Tire Store. He glanced over at me and then back at one of the other patrons. I knew what Mr. Benson was about to say was indirectly aimed at me, but he looked at Jared Tucker, "You see Arlene's little boy lately?"

The other patron, Jared Tucker, the man who owned and who had run the meat market for nearly fifty years replied, "Yeah, the kids growing like a weed." Then Mr. Tucker looked directly at me, "Hey Cal, you seen Arlene's boy?"

I replied, "No sir, I haven't."

Jared Tucker replied, "You ought to check him out son."

Now Mr. Tucker was one of the older men in town who'd taken me and my brother and sister under his wing right after our dad died. I had great respect for Mr. Tucker; he was one of the good guys. I asked, "Why's that Mr. Tucker?"

Mr. Tucker was his usual laconic self, "Can't say son; just know you ought to look him over."

Then Mr. Barger, another older man and a regular at Al's gave me an enigmatic grin, "Why'd you marry that city gal?"

I started to feel a little uncomfortable. I suddenly realized I'd probably been the subject a not little discussion around the town since I got back with my new wife. I didn't quite know what to say so I just blathered, "Well I guess we met, fell in love, and decided to get married, that's all."

By then Al had finished Mr. Benson off. As the man left he glanced over at me, "Should've done the right thing first son."

That floored me. I looked at Mr. Benson incredulously; I wondered, what did he meant by that.

Things quieted down after that. Slowly but surely Al got all his heads done. He flapped his towel at me, "You're next."

I put up a hand, "No I just wanted to ask some questions."

Old Al slapped his chair with the towel, "You need a cut son."

I got up, for better or worse, I was about to get the sides of my head shaved. As I took my seat I asked, "Have you seen Arlene's boy?"

Al replied, "Gave him his first cut."

I asked, "What's he like?"

Al responded, "What do you mean?"

I knew I was stuck in a briar patch. Al wanted specific questions. He was the barber, he listened, others did all the talking, but I still had to ask, "Come on Al. She named her son Cal. Why'd she do that?"

Al didn't say anything. He just kept cutting away. I felt the hedge trimmers as they whiffed away all my hair. Finally, near the end of the cut Al opened his mouth, "A mom like Arlene's most likely to name her baby after his father."

I got up, paid Al his $8.00. I hope he didn't smell the shit stains in my pants.

My next visit was to Mrs. Hawthorne. Mrs. Hawthorne was a widow woman; her husband Nate had been a truck driver for one of the hatcheries, and later he drove a school bus for the Fletchers; the Fletchers owned several buses and contracted with the local school board to haul the kids. Mrs. Hawthorne was another of my favorites. She always liked me. I knew I'd get the straight dope from her. I pulled in her driveway just in time to see her walk out with a pile laundry. I walked over and started to help her pin the laundry to the clothes line. She didn't say anything; she knew as soon as I saw her with the basket I'd be helping her.

Once we got finished she asked, "Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee. I made a fresh apple pie last night. I could cut you a slice?"

I missed that sort of thing, and answered affirmatively, "I'd like that Mrs. Hawthorne."

We went in. She made a pot of coffee and cut me a big slice of pie. The pie was really good. I thought the coffee was a little weak, but didn't mention it.

Mrs. Hawthorne spoke first, "You're looking good Cal."

I answered, "Thanks Mrs. Hawthorne. How have you been?"

She answered, "Well my back bothers me some, and I don't see real well anymore, but other than that and a few more little things like my knees I'm pretty good. Then she hit me, "You're here about Arlene aren't you?"

She got me, "Mrs. Hawthorne what's the story with Arlene anyway. I mean I haven't seen or talked to her in four years. I expected she'd be married and have two or three more children by now."

Mrs. Hawthorne looked down at her coffee cup, "Kind of weak isn't it?"

I smiled, "It's all right. What about Arlene."

She kept her eyes focused on her coffee cup, "Well she had her baby."

I kept at her, "That's all?"

Mrs. Hawthorne looked up at me. I think it was the first time she really looked at me. I didn't like it. Something was real wrong, and I was afraid I knew what it was, "You and she were kind of a couple. When you left she didn't look for a replacement."

I needed answers, but I just wasn't sure what the questions were. Actually I knew exactly what the questions were; I was just too afraid to ask them, I went for it anyway, 'Did she ever say who the father was?"

Mrs. Hawthorne hesitated just long enough to make me wish I'd never come back home, "She named him after his father."

I wanted to run, but had to stand my ground, "Mrs. Hawthorne I'm not her child's daddy. OK, I'll admit it we did it one time, but that was way back in August just before I went away to college."

Mrs. Hawthorne studied my face. I knew I was about to get it, "Cal you say you and she had intercourse in August?"

That scared me. Mrs. Hawthorne used the 'big word' and that was something out of the ordinary for someone her age, I told her, "I'm not proud of it. I took advantage. We were both sorry we did it as soon as it was over. I remember it wasn't anything like I thought it would be."

Mrs. Hawthorne took her fingers and started to count, "You say August? Well let's see; September, October, November, December, January." She changed hands, "February, March, April, May. Nine months; that's about right. Little Cal got here in May the year right after you left."

I just sat there. Finally I stood up, "Thanks Mrs. Hawthorne."

She smiled and asked, "Where you headed now Cal?"

I answered, "I need to see Arlene."

Mrs. Hawthorne got up with me and walked me to her back door, "She's most likely still at her diner. Why don't you pay a visit to her mom and dad first?"

I stopped and turned back to look at Mrs. Hawthorne, "You know, you're right." I left right away and drove over to Arlene's mom and dad's. I had a lot I needed to find out. Actually there wasn't much to find out; I just needed to hear it again.

I got to Arlene's parents and checked my watch; It was close to 11:00 a.m. Arlene wouldn't be closing her restaurant for an hour or so; that gave me more than enough time to see her parents. I drove on over.

I got to her parents; pulled in their driveway, got out, and started for the door. By the time I got there Arlene's dad already had the door open for me. He smiled, "Mrs. Hawthorne called." He led me into their living room and pointed to the sofa.

I looked around. The place hadn't changed much since I'd been there. I sat back on the sofa. Arlene and I had spent a lot of time on this couch; it brought back memories, all of them good. I looked around. I bet I spent more time here than I did at my home that last year of high school. They had a big mantle; there were some pictures there I didn't remember.

I got up and walked to the mantle to check out the pictures. There were five of them, and I knew without a doubt I'd done something terribly wrong. By then Arlene's mom had come in. I turned around, "She never told me. Why didn't she say something?"

Her dad answered, "What would you have done if she did?"

"Why I'd have married her. I'd have gotten a job and I'd have taken care of her and my baby."

He walked over and stood beside me, "What about college? What would have happened to your future?"

That was the last thing I wanted to hear, "Aw come on, I don't want to hear that. She was having my baby. She needed me."

He put his hand on my shoulder, "She loved you son. She couldn't do that to you. You had your life. You were going to make something of yourself. She would have only been in the way."

I got mad, "That's bull shit!"

Arlene's mom answered that, "No it wasn't; not to her. I reckon she figured you'd eventually come back. I just don't think she figured you'd come back with a wife."

Damn it I thought; nothing like being caught between a rock and a hard place, "Why didn't she ever get married?"

Her mom replied, "Nobody ever caught her eye like you did."

I started to stalk their living room. I had no idea how I got into this mess. My life had been so tidy; everything had been so neatly arranged just a few weeks ago. Now everything was all unraveled. I was really starting to feel sorry for myself. Then like a ton of bricks it hit me! What about Arlene? What had her life been like? I asked, "What's it been like; I mean what's it been like for Arlene?"

Her mom answered, "Well you know this is a small town. She wouldn't name the daddy, but everyone sort of figured it out after a while. She wouldn't look at any of the other boys, and you know how tongues like to wag."

I was clueless about what to do next, "What, I guess Arlene is still at her diner. Where's the boy; I mean my boy."

Her dad answered both, "I'm sure she's at the diner, but Cal he's not your boy."

I was already headed for the door, "I have to go." I looked back, "Do me a favor. Please. I mean please don't call her and tell her I'm coming."

Her mom and dad looked at each other, then dad answered, "We'll let the two of you work it out." Then he frowned, "But remember that's our little girl, and he's our grandson."

I wanted to go back and reassure them both, but I just didn't know what to say so I said what was probably the stupidest thing I could've said, "Just don't call her." I was already down the steps of their porch headed for my car.

It really didn't matter if they called ahead. I should have known either Mrs. Hawthorne or one of the men from the barbershop would have beaten me.

At the Breakfast Diner:

Old Jared Tucker was sitting on a stool at the diner. Little Cal had come in just a while ago; he'd been brought to the diner by his grandmother just a little earlier. In fact she'd just barely beat Cal to her house when he had been knocking on her door. Tucker looked at Arlene as she scrambled his eggs, "Saw Cal McCabe this morning."

Arlene flipped the eggs around without looking up, "Yeah he passed the through the drive in and got his coffee and bagel a while ago on his way to work."

Tucker sipped his coffee, "Didn't go to work today. I saw him at Al's."

Arlene kept scrambling the eggs, "Al's?"

"Yeah he was getting a cut."

Arlene smiled as she continued to scramble, "I'll bet that'll look good."