Starting Over

Chapter 11

Chapter 11Janet took the extended napkin from Andy and wiped her eyes. She hadn't intended to give Andy the nickel tour of the last twenty years of her life, and she certainly hadn't intended to beg him for his help with Nate. Now that she had, she felt a strange sense of release mixed with a discomfort of being exposed to a man she barely knew. She wondered what was he thinking as he sat across from her, leaning back in his chair with legs out stretched and crossed in front of him.

At last, he said, “He doesn't tell me as much as you think, but sure, I'll do what I can. For what it's worth, I don't think his anger has anything to do with you not preparing him about his father.” He paused then said, “You mentioned earlier he's getting an apartment. Is he working?”

“No, not yet.” she said, balling the napkin up in her hand. She saw him c**k his head thoughtfully and wondered what he was thinking.

Finally, he leaned forward, set his coffee down and splayed his arms out on the tabletop. “Then, I assume you're footing the bill?”

“Well…yes. Why?”

“I have an idea. I need to fill a position here at the store and…” He hesitated then as if he was uncertain of what he was about to say, went on, “…and though I'm not sure how long it would last, how 'bout I offer it to him? It's part time, mind you, but it'd give him something to do. Take his mind off things a bit.”

She felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “You would do that?”

“Sure,” he said, kicking back. He looked at his watch and rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek. “I have to get back at it right now, but would you be opposed to grabbing a bite later on? Talk a little more about this?”

Her stomach fluttered. Finally, an ally! She drained her tea. “No, not at all. I have a project I have to get to tonight, but I have tomorrow free.”

“Tomorrow it is then, say for breakfast?”

“Okay. Where?”

“You pick,” he said, getting up.

Feeling hopeful about Andy, Janet left to meet him the next morning. A job wasn't exactly what she had in mind for Nate, but anything to take his mind off whatever was chewing him up inside was better than nothing. She pulled out of her driveway praying Nate would take Andy's offer when it came. But it was the unloading of her personal life to Andy that was foremost on her mind all last night. What had possessed her to open up like that to him? Had she said too much? She felt her gut tighten. Saying what she had said left her vulnerable to being pitied, and pity was the last thing she wanted or needed. As she turned onto Old Cypress Road, she wondered how he'd so easily disarmed her and then what he'd thought of her. Did it matter?

The thought that had hit her sideways last night was still there. Was there more than just her concern for her son roiling inside her? Sure, Andy was handsome, but was it more than that? He had a way of looking at her that left her feeling like she was listened to. Her husband had had the same manner, and that mattered!

She pulled into the lot of The Pompeii Café and parked. It was 8:45 AM and hopefully she wasn't too late. She'd told him 8:30, but a detour on the main road waylaid her coming in. Stepping out of her car into the cold December drizzle, she hoofed it to the warmth of the art deco coffee shop. Once inside, she searched the lavender painted dining room with its black and white checkerboard tile floors. Saw him sitting at a table opposite the old-fashioned soda-fountain bar.

The morning crowd huddling around their coffees and Danishes were regulars. A few of them she knew, like Ed and Harriet who lived down the road from her. A few of them looked up and smiled when they saw her. Most hid behind their morning papers ignoring her as she wove her way around them to Andy.

“Hi there,” he said, looking up through a pair of large aviator sunglasses. He shut the day planner he was writing in. “Have a seat. You hungry? I'm buying.”

“Tea would be great for right now,” she said, removing her jacket and laying it over the back of a nearby chair. She sat wondering if he was trying to make a statement with the shades. But from what she'd gleaned of him so far, he wasn't that kind of man. Obviously, he'd forgotten he still had them on.

He pulled a menu in front of him. “So, what do you recommend?”

She smiled. “Well, you could remove your sunglasses.”

“Oh, yeah. Joe cool, I guess I'm not.” He took his glasses off, shoved them in his shirt pocket and picked up the menu. As he read down it, his brow wrinkled.

“The Cubist is good,” she ventured watching tiny expressions of bewilderment wash over his ruddy face.

He pursed his lips and set the menu aside. “I don't suppose they have anything like an omelet?”

“I'm afraid not,” she said.

He took another look at his menu. “Okay, guess I'll take your suggestion and go with the rice and meat filled pastry thing.” He set his menu down, dug in his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial. He popped a couple caplets from it into his hand, looked up and said, “For my damned headaches…So, I've been thinking about Nate after we talked last night. Does he know you've talked to me?”

“No,” she said, “Why?”

“Good. The last thing you'll want is for him to think this is a set up. If he catches wind of it, he'll walk away.” He washed the pills down with a gulp of water. “Now, I could have him work the front counter, but what I really could use help with, is the computer.”

Her heart lit up. “That's perfect. He practically lived on that thing before he went in the Army.”

“Fantastic!” He smiled. As he did so, his deep blue eyes sparkled. “I'll give it a week or so and ask him.”

The waitress came over and they ordered. After the woman left, she reached over and laid her hand over his. “Thank you.”

He nodded, was quiet a moment then softly said, “It's the least I can do for another soldier. Our boys all need a leg up coming home. Too many of us end up falling through the cracks.”

Janet felt the conviction in his voice and realized that until now, she'd never considered the homecoming plight of men and women who'd put their lives on the line for their country. She eyed the man sitting across from her and saw his rigid jaw, the far away gaze coming back. He was a man of steeped depth and the urge to go hide from him coursed through her, but her legs wouldn't move. And even if they could, she'd remain. Finally, she said, “When you came back from Nam, what was it like?”

He shot her a sobering glance. “I pretty much kept my mouth shut about it when I came home and tried to blend back in.”

She sensed she was brushing up against a touchy subject. “So, you never talked to your parents about it?”

He looked off over the crowded room. “No, I didn't. There was nothing to say, really. I just got on with life.”

“Becoming a paramedic?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he replied, as the waitress brought their orders to the table. After she left them alone, he grabbed his fork and poked at his breakfast. He reached for the salt and pepper. “Actually, I started off as a fireman.”

She unwrapped the napkin around her silverware, intrigued. “If you don't mind, my asking, what got you interested in that?”

He chuckled. “You won't believe this, but ole dumb-dumb here got stuck in a tree when I was a kid. “

“Oh, my God,” she said, bursting out in laughter. She envisioned this six-foot-plus man in front of her stuck in a tree. It was a good thing she didn't have anything in her mouth otherwise it would've been all over the table. “Stuck in a tree?”

“Yeah, I was a regular Tarzan,” he said, grinning. “The higher the tree, the better. Then one day I turned my ankle fifty feet up a gnarled oak and couldn't get down.” He took a bite of his breakfast, wiped his mouth and shook his head. “So there I was out in the woods behind our house, screwed cause I couldn't put my weight on my foot. Fortunately, I was with my buds and they went running for help.

“Twenty minutes later, firemen show up, and before I know it I'm being rigged into a harness. As they lowered me down, I thought 'this is something I want to be'. After that, it was a done deal.” He paused. “And you? What interested you in photography?”

She c****d her head. “I think it was in my blood the minute I was born. Just didn't know it until one day a man came and lectured at my university.”

“An epiphany of sorts, huh? So what were you studying at the time?”

She sipped her tea. “Environmental Engineering, if you can believe it.”

“Really? Somehow, I can't see you doing that. What started you off down that road?”

“My father, I guess. He was a Mechanical Engineer, so it sort of rubbed off on me growing up.”

“I can understand that,” he said. “So what did this guy who came to your college say to change your mind?”

“He talked about sustainability, but in a different way. Said the best way to sustain things was to observe how nature sustains itself, and for that, all you needed to do was look and see. So I started taking my camera out into the field afterward, and the more I did, the more I realized what my real calling was. Taking pictures of nature doing its thing spoke to me in ways nothing ever did. By the way, the man you saved, Garrett Andersen: that was him.”

“Really?” He c****d his eye. “Small world isn't it? You never know how your paths are gonna cross. So, you shoot all digital or are you the last of the die-hards that sticks with film?”

She shook her head. You're right Andy, you never know what the universe has in store. “I'm pretty much digital now, but I have to confess, I prefer film. There's just something about getting in the dark room and doing your own developing. Makes you feel more in touch with the photo. My husband used to say the same thing about drawings. He hated the computer programs. 'Give me a sheet of paper and pencil!' He'd say all the time.” She paused and cleared her throat. “So, I'm curious, what got you out of the fire department and into the book selling business?”

He flinched at the unexpected question. “An accident. I'm disabled. I have a TBI. Ummm … traumatic brain–”

“Injury. Yes, I know what it is,” she said and instantly regretted the tone of it. “Sorry, I didn't mean that to come out like it did.”

“Like what?”

“Smart-ass, I guess you would say.”

“Didn't sound 'smart-ass' to me.” He finished the last of his breakfast, pushed his plate away and sat back.

An elderly man a few tables away stumbled and fell. As his cane clattered to the floor, the crack of a coffee cup reverberated around the room. Everyone looked up, but Andy sprang from his chair and bolted over to him.

She tossed her napkin on the table, shoved her chair back and followed along with a couple nearby waitresses. As they knelt down beside Andy, she heard Andy asking the man if anything hurt while looking him over from head to foot. The EMT in him was kicking in. You might be retired, but a paramedic you'll always be, she thought as he guided the man to his feet and over to a chair. Once he was satisfied the man was okay, he turned to the waitress. “Get him whatever he wants. His tab's on me.”

She smiled as she snatched a paper towel from one of the waitresses and dipped it in a water glass. What a sweet gesture. Who are you? She thought as she blotted the coffee stains on the old man's white shirt.

“I hope he'll be okay,” she said when they finally returned to their table.

He glanced in the direction of the old man who was looking back at them with an appreciative smile. “I think he'll be just fine,” he said, waving back at the man.

She leaned forward, “By the way, that was real nice; what you did back there.”

“It's what I do,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. He looked off over the crowded dining room and was quiet for a moment. Turning back to her, he said, “So, what we were talking about?”

“Which was? I don't remember.”

He frowned. “Damn, I hate it when I forget things I just talked about…Oh, hold on. I got it, your photography. Did you start out freelancing?”

She picked her mug up, tapped her nails against its ceramic side. “Sort of. I worked for a couple of small presses for a while. Meat and potato shoots mostly. I hated them–not the companies–the shoots. I wanted to be outside capturing mountains and rivers, not fundraisers and parades.”

“Have to start somewhere.” He took a gulp of coffee.

“I guess.”

They fell into an awkward silence for a moment. She didn't know what more to say and he appeared tongue tied as well. She glanced over at the elderly man they'd helped. “Well, I've errands to run.”

“Me, too,” he added. He tossed his napkin on his plate and walked her to the parking lot where they stood under a slate sky. There, in the cacophony of traffic motoring along the byway, they watched a flock of starlings settle into the barren trees across the lot.

Finally, she said, “Well thank-you again for all you're doing for Nate.”

“You're welcome.”

She smiled and put her hand out to him. “Drive safe.”

“I will.”

She felt his hand slip away and watched him turn toward his car. Suddenly, he turned around. “Hey, would you mind having dinner with me sometime?”

She c****d her head in surprise. “Umm … I–”

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have.”

“No, it's all right,” she said, and her thoughts went immediately to Nate. Will he resent me if I go, feel like he's a means to an end? I don't think so, but who knows. But it's just dinner. It's not like we'd be going out dancing and tearing up the night. She looked down. He wasn't wearing a ring, at least not that she could tell. And, I do like him. Oh, what the hell, what can it hurt? “Well, with the holidays coming up, a gala I'm working on and all, I'm gonna be real busy…but maybe after the first of the year?”