Looking For An Honest Man-Chapters 13 & 14

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Chapter 13

Olivia poured a glass of wine after she’d finished cleaning the dinner dishes. This had not been a typical Monday. First, she had the dream, called the hotline and then Samantha wore her out. She couldn’t understand why Samantha had to be so nosy and rebellious at the same time. Even as a small child, Samantha had been that independent, rebellious child who kept coming back to her mother for reassurance. Olivia didn’t understand why Samantha continued to need her, but at the same time made every attempt to show her independence.  On Samantha’s thirtieth birthday, Will commented that he wondered if this was the year that Samantha would finally leave the terrible twos. Diagnosed as Attention Deficit Disorder with Hyperactivity at an early age, Will and she had tried behavior modification and medication and were able to get Samantha through school - barely. College had been a different matter. If it hadn’t been for Wally coming back into her life, Olivia didn’t know what would’ve happened to Samantha. She’d always refused to take her medicine, but Wally had the ability to keep her grounded and focused. Samantha was such a bubblehead, always denying her feelings for Wally, which made Olivia sad.

Olivia wearily propped her feet up and reached for the glass of Cabernet on the end table beside her chair. The mantle clock struck nine; It was time to let the worries of the day drift away and relax. She reached back and unwound the rubber band that held her hair in a ponytail. Dropping the rubber band on the table, she grasped the arms of the chair and pushed it into a reclining position. She sighed as her head fell back and pushed against the soft-pillowed headrest. Thank God, Monday was coming to an end.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell shattered Olivia’s silent thoughts. She started, as no sooner had the sound stopped, whoever was at the door pushed it again and again. Pulling the chair upright with a moan, Olivia struggled to her feet and stepped over her shoes lying on the floor. At first, she thought of Samantha, but she had her own key to the house. She stopped to pick up her wine glass and take a large swig. Totally unladylike, she thought, but really needed. A quick look in the door peephole revealed Gretchen Silk. Gretchen had a finger on the doorbell button and looked very disgruntled. Olivia opened the door to her friend.

Gretchen Silk brushed past Olivia before she could say hello. Tonight, she wore red jeans and a bright yellow sweatshirt with a rose in the middle. Her short black hair accentuated a very red face.

“Hello, Gretchen. Is something the matter that you couldn’t keep from punching the doorbell?”

“Nothing is wrong with me dear girl. I’m here to save you.”

Olivia laughed as she followed her friend into the kitchen.

“Save me? I didn’t know I needed saving,” she said, placing her wine glass down on the table.

Gretchen ignored her remarks and pointed for Olivia to sit down.

“First, I need some wine.”

“I have a Cabernet opened—want some?” Olivia asked.

Not waiting for an answer, she pulled a wine glass from the cabinet and poured Gretchen a generous amount and handed it to her friend.

“Thanks,” Gretchen muttered, and proceeded to down the wine in one gulp. She held the glass out and said, “Hit me.”

The bottle emptied at half-a-glass.

“Open another bottle?” Olivia asked.

“Please,” Gretchen responded.

Olivia brought the new bottle to the table.

“Is something wrong, Gretchen?” she asked, refilling her own glass.

“I’m worried about you old friend.”

Olivia stared blankly at her friend.

“Worried about me? What ever for?”

Gretchen pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling as if reaching for the right words.

“It has been two years since Will left.”

“I know, Gretchen.”

“During that time you’ve done nothing to get on with life.”

Olivia sat up straight in her chair with her hands folded in her lap.

“That is not exactly true…”

“Oh, come on, Olivia. Basically, you’ve done nothing, and now I learn that you’re having visions!” Gretchen stopped to tilt her head back and kill what was left of her wine. “What is going on with you?”

Olivia bit her lip to fight back the tears. This was unusual for Gretchen. She was never one to hesitate to tell you what was on her mind, but this time there was a certain bite to her words that hurt.

“Nothing is going on with me,” Olivia said softly. “Why are you so concerned about a silly dream?”

“I heard on the news that they found the body of that missing girl. Did you have another dream?” Olivia hesitated and Gretchen eyed her suspiciously. “Did you call the hotline?”

“No, no I didn’t. I was just thinking that I’m glad they found her.”

Gretchen appeared relieved.

“I’m afraid if you start having dreams like this one, it will only make you isolate yourself even more.”

“Isolate myself? Whatever are you talking about, Gretchen? Do you mean get back into the dating scene?”

Gretchen raised her head and gave Olivia a smug look.

“Yes. You need to get out there and get your mind off of things instead of having silly dreams.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get out there.”

“You’re going to become a shriveled-up old woman,” Gretchen snapped.

Olivia didn’t say anything. After fifty years, she was accustomed to Gretchen’s outbursts. In grade school, Olivia had been devastated by these outbursts so much that her mother banned Gretchen from the house for almost their entire third grade year at Visitation. Gretchen’s mother marched her daughter to confession every Saturday afternoon, but it didn’t appear to help.

Sitting across from each other, Gretchen continued. “You know how hard it is to find someone at our age?”

“We’ll be sixty next year,” Olivia snorted. “I don’t exactly call that over the hill.”

“You haven’t been out there, my dear,” Gretchen replied with a wave of the hand. “You’ll find out when it’s your turn.”

Gretchen reached for the wine and poured another glass. Olivia thought about what Gretchen had said.

“Let me guess. You thought you’d found Mr. Right, but it turned out he was Mr. Wrong.”

The wine was beginning to have its effect.

“That’s right,” Gretchen said with a slight slur.

“How many times has this happened to you?” Olivia asked.

“Three or four,” Gretchen said.

Gretchen’s head bobbed up and down as her eyes blinked to stay awake, but it was a losing battle. Silently, Olivia wondered how much Gretchen had consumed before she pushed the doorbell.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Let’s get you to bed.”

Olivia took Gretchen by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

“I’m fine,” Gretchen said as she sloshed wine down the front of her sweatshirt.

“I know,” Olivia said taking the wine glass from Gretchen’s hand.

Once she had Gretchen settled Olivia closed the bedroom door because Gretchen snored like a freight train, and returned to the kitchen. She tossed the empty wine bottles in the recycles, and rinsed out Gretchen’s wine glass. Returning to the living room, Olivia found Gretchen’s handbag in the middle of the living room floor with half of its contents scattered on the rug. So typical, she thought. She kneeled down and started to pick up when a bright yellow card caught her attention. She turned the card over in her hands and read Fish in the Sea, an exclusive online dating site for older women seeking younger men. Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth as she attempted to suppress a laugh. Gretchen was a cougar! The thought was ridiculous because no younger man would go for Gretchen. They’d have to have a strong stomach to get passed the Botox bumps. She sat down and reached for the case beside her chair and retrieved her iPad and Googled Fish in the Sea.

The home page flashed across the screen showing an older woman standing knee-deep in water and bent over backwards with a bent fishing pole in her hands. At the end of the fishing line were six men, each with his arms outstretched, attempting to be “hooked.” Olivia wondered how women could fall for such fluff. To one side of the woman sat a box where you could either join or log into your account. A blurb on the top left hand corner of the screen proclaimed that Fish in the Sea was the number one site for women over fifty and was the most successful in matching younger men and older women. Forgotten memories stirred in Olivia, and she could see how some women would be attracted to such sites. She started to join in hopes of finding out more information, but saw a message you had to be recommended. How strange, she thought. Maybe when Gretchen had sobered up she’d show Olivia her account.

Olivia returned the iPad to the case and leaned her head back. She knew she should go to bed, but she felt so relaxed and comfortable. She wondered what Samantha and Wally did after they’d left her condo. Wally was such a wonderful guy, but too gentle for Samantha. At one time, Olivia thought that Samantha would tear him apart. No more. Wally could take care of himself. Slowly Olivia’s thoughts became more disjointed as sleep started to overtake her.

Chapter 14

Samantha felt the warmth of the sun on her face as the first light of day stole in the windows of Wally’s loft. As she started to wake, a red glow appeared as the sun sneaked through her closed eyes. In the background, she could hear a scraping sound, the shuffle of feet, and running water. Samantha fought waking as long as she could, but the smell of fresh coffee drifted across her face and the thought of caffeine made her flutter her eyelids. She rolled over until her nose flattened against the bed sheets, and the smell was different. Her fingers gripped the bed sheets, and her eyes flew open at last. For a second, she thought the worst, and then realized that the smell was Wally’s. She rolled back over and pushed herself into a sitting position. Wally’s large frame hid the refrigerator as he opened the door to retrieve a carton of eggs and bacon.

 “Good morning,” she moaned, and managed a weak smile.

“Morning,” Wally answered with his back to her. “You might want to get dressed while I fix breakfast.”

Samantha frowned, letting her fingers pick at the oversized shirt of Wally’s she’d put on. She realized that underneath the shirt she was naked. A quick scan saw her cloths folded neatly over a nearby chair.

“Did you undress me?” she asked warily.

“Nope, you did that all by yourself around one o’clock after killing a bottle of wine,” he said.

Samantha didn’t know why, but she was disappointed for a second.

“Oh,” she said. “I forgot.”

“Well, breakfast is going to be ready in about ten minutes or less,” he said. “You’d better get up and get dressed.”

Samantha bounced out of bed, walked into the kitchen, and wrapped her arms around Wally’s warm body. She felt him tense for a second, and then he relaxed as she pushed her warm body against his.

“You’re so good to me,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah, now get dressed,” he said as he picked up the spatula. The bacon popped and crackled as he turned it over in the skillet. “Get me a paper towel for the bacon.”

“Sure.” Samantha handed the roll to Wally. The coffee smelled inviting, so she reached into the cabinet for a cup. “I’m going to drink a cup of coffee first.”

Wally turned to point the spatula at her.

 “I have an appointment at nine-thirty, so if you’re not ready to go by then, you’ll have to stay here. I can’t take you home.”

“Okay.”

Samantha sat at the table by the large picture window that overlooked the Missouri River. She saw a slow line of cars make their way across the Christopher Bond Bridge. The thought of being on a rigid time schedule for work didn’t appeal to Samantha: been there, done that. Selling real estate took long hours and a lot of work, but every day her schedule was different. She liked the idea she had to look her best, which allowed her closet to be filled with clothes. Now, she sold only lofts in the downtown-midtown area, and it had been very lucrative for her.

There was the clatter of plates on the granite counter.

“Breakfast is served.”

Samantha clapped her hands.

“Good, I’m starving.”

Wally set the plates down and went back for his coffee.

“You are always starving.”

Samantha’s eyes wandered around Wally’s loft. It was one large room, but the way Wally had arranged the furniture it didn’t feel like just one room. For the first time, she noticed the pillow and a balled up blanket on the sofa.

“You slept on the sofa last night? You could have gotten in bed with me,” she said taking a bite out of a piece of toast.

Wally sat down, unfolded a paper napkin, and placed it in his lap.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, waving a hand at him.

“I’m human, too, Samantha.”

Samantha giggled and took another bite out of her toast.

“I like your place better than mine,” she said.

Surprised, Wally asked, “You do? Why?”

Samantha shrugged her shoulders.

“Don’t know, just do.”

“Okay, I'll take your word, for it, but your place is bigger and fancier than mine. It actually has rooms.”

Samantha carefully picked the egg up with her fork and laid it atop the toast. Her teeth bit into the toast, and the egg yolk spurted yellow-orange yolk on her face. She giggled and immediately wiped her cheeks  I’m game. Why do you like hanging out with me?”

“You let me be me.  That’s why I like hanging out with you.” She took a sip of coffee and gave him a playful look. “You know why else?”

Wally wiped his mouth with his napkin and reached for the jar of strawberry jam.

“Why, Samantha?”

“Because when I get drunk, you undress me, and put me to bed…but you always keep my panties on.”

Wally’s arm froze in midair, and he frowned at her.

“You did that. You undressed yourself.”

Samantha giggled as she brought the coffee and held it under her nose.

 “What about my man Brent Mitchell?” she asked, changing the subject.

Inwardly, Wally heaved a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Mitchell? It appears that Mr. Mitchell is missing.”

Samantha sat up and slammed her coffee on the table.