by Linda Ellen
Vic smiled. It felt like old times.
“Thanks, Pal. See ya.”
With that, the two friends rang off and Vic sat in the chair a few minutes longer, mentally calculating if he had enough money for gas and expenses, since he hadn’t exactly been saving his pennies for an emergency. Briefly, he wondered what excuse he was going to give his boss in order to take off a few days.
Standing quickly, he reached into his pocket and tossed a quarter on the table to cover the cost of the call. Then he turned and bounded up the stairs two at a time.
He had preparations to make.
*
Several days later, Vic passed through Boonville on Route 40, about a half hour into his trip back to Louisville. His car, a dark blue ‘31 Buick Coupe – the kind skirted with running boards and a rumble seat in the back – had been his big purchase after he had finished his hitch in the C’s. He reached back just then to raise the shade and gave the rear window a crank for some air. Straightening up again as the refreshing breeze began to flow through, he reached over and gave the dashboard a pat, musing how good the little car ran, even if it did need a little sprucing up on the paint job. However, he had never taken it on a road trip, so he hoped the tires held out.
It being a Wednesday afternoon, there was very little traffic on the two-lane road. That left him with few distractions to occupy his mind. He tried to focus on Doc and Irene’s encouraging letters, reflecting that he kind of considered those two as surrogate parents and he unconsciously wanted to make them proud of him.
The three-hour trip to Louisville was something he had thought about doing for a long time…but now that it was happening, he found himself plagued with doubts and fears.
What will she say when she sees me? What should I say to her? And what about her little boy… I wonder what he’s like…if he’s a brat, or if he behaves…wonder what kind of a mother Louise is…
With every mile that drew him closer, the coil of nerves in his gut wound tighter and tighter…and tighter. Rolling down the driver’s side window, he allowed the air to flow over his face as he tried to clear the thoughts from his head, but they just wouldn’t cease.
Will she want to see me? What if I go to the door and she refuses to talk to me? Will she look different? She’s got to…she’s four years older…lots of things have happened to her, just like to me…she’s a woman now, not a little girl anymore… I wonder if she still thinks of me… I know she told Alec she did, but still…she had a life with him.
“Aaah,” he groused, swearing under his breath at himself. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he drew a cigarette out of the pack, and his lighter out of his pants pocket. Lighting up, he sucked in several deep drags, hoping the nicotine would help to uncoil the knot in his stomach.
But no such luck. Alone in the car with miles to go, his mind kept up its relentless torture.
But how do I feel about her now? She’s been with another man…she gave herself to him…she’s had a baby for him…she’s not the same girl that I knew four years ago.
Swearing again, he admitted to himself that it gnawed at his guts that he had not been her first. It tore at him, slicing him with vicious claws every time he thought about it. She’d been MY girl, but he had swept her away, the no good son of a… Many times over the years, Vic had pictured himself coming face to face with ‘T.J.’ and letting loose with all of the pent up jealousy and anger he had harbored since the moment he had found out. He’d imagined thrashing the other man bloody until somebody intervened. And now, to find out the jerk had been mistreating Louise – even been unfaithful to her! It was almost more than he could stand.
Yet…the thought that his Mary Louise had been with that guy still stuck in his craw like a rock in his shoe. He could still see the smirk on the jerk’s face as he had swept Louise out of his arms and onto the dance floor, making Vic feel like a clumsy twit. It was all one big ball of confusion in his head…and his heart.
Determinedly, he turned his mind away from his conflicting feelings and back to that morning, when he had approached his boss and asked for a few days off.
“I don’t know, Vic,” Ralph Harford, the shop manager for Diamond Dry Cleaners and Vic’s immediate supervisor, had answered as he rolled the ever-present cigar around in his mouth. He tipped his cap toward the back of his head and scratched the front edge of his hairline. It was the man’s unconscious habit each time he was faced with an unexpected problem.
“It should only be for a few days…” Vic had offered, although in reality, he had no idea how long he would need to be gone. Besides that, he knew he was essentially rushing into the unknown, with absolutely no idea as to the state of mind of the other party… After all, she might possibly change her mind again and go back to her husband… Mainly for that reason, he had taken care not to leave his bridges totally torched and beyond repair.
“That means Charlie’ll have to cover your stops if you aren’t back…”
“I know, sir. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important…”
Harford studied the young man for a few moments. Vic Matthews had been the best delivery driver he’d ever had – hard working, conscientious, reliable, and had never missed a day of work. He got along with everyone and caused no trouble. However, something about this situation didn’t sit right. Somehow, he felt that if Matthews went to Louisville for whatever this emergency was…he might not come back. The thought of that put the man in a bad mood. It would mean finding a replacement and training him to do the job – more work added to his already full schedule. Yet, he couldn’t think of a good reason to deny the request.
“Alright, you haven’t taken off any days since you’ve been here, I guess you’re entitled. You just be sure to be back here first thing Monday morning,” he added, pulling the wet cigar stub from his mouth and pointing it at Vic. “If not, I’ll have to find a replacement driver – and you know how many young bucks are out there wishing they had your spot!”
Vic nodded, thinking he knew that well, as he had been one of those bucks for too long. “I know, sir.”
Satisfied that he’d instilled fear into the young man, Harford dismissed him with a flick of his cigar.
“Go on then, get going. I got work to do,” he grumbled before shoving the unlit stub back in his mouth. He had watched as Vic inclined his head in the affirmative, placed his hat back on his head, and turned to go.
Vic had paused to glance over at the presser area, his eyes meeting Julie’s inquisitive gaze. At that moment, a strong wave of relief swept through him that he had listened to his gut and not taken her up on her offer. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was probably wondering why he had shown up to work out of uniform and seemed to be having a very intense conversation with the boss. However, he had no time to explain things, as he needed to get on the road. Now that he had made the decision to go, he couldn’t help feeling that time was of necessity. Something kept urging him to hurry.
With a brief lift of one hand aimed her way, and a nod to several other co-workers, he had turned and exited out the side door.
He hadn’t looked back.
Now, glancing down at the dials on his dashboard, Vic realized he was on the verge of running out of fuel. “Man, I wish this coupe had a bigger tank…” he grumbled aloud. Figuring he was about half way, he saw a sign for the tiny town of St. Meinrad, and running on not much more than fumes, he managed to make it to a small gas station.
In ten minutes, he was back on the road again, his mind unfortunately also back in the groove of going round and round the same old turf.
An hour later, he passed a sign that read, “Corydon 25 miles.” With an agitated sigh, he pulled another cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lit up, feeling as if he were about to explode from the tension.
Twenty-five miles. Thirty minutes.
But…what will happen once I get there…
*
“Been a long time, but I’d say you’re still the handsome devil you
always were,” Fleet teased as she pulled back from giving Vic a hug.
Vic grinned at the compliment, his eyes deliberately dropping to her considerable baby-belly filling the space between them. “I’d say you haven’t changed, Mrs. Alder, but…”
Fleet laughed and play-smacked his arm. “If you’re getting ready to say that I look like I’ve swallowed a basketball…”
Alec chimed in with a chuckle, both hands raised in warning, “Oh no, man, don’t do it. She can still move pretty quick, and she swings a mean rolling pin.”
The three laughed together in comfortable friendship, with each one asking the polite questions of how’ve you been, what’ve you been up to, and filling one another in on the particulars in their lives.
Eventually however, the mirth left Vic’s eyes, to be replaced by the shadows under the mountain of concern and turmoil roiling around in his head.
Unable to side step the reason for his visit any longer, they glanced at one another.
Fleet cleared her throat and placed a hand at the small of her back as she turned to waddle the few steps over to the couch, accepting her husband’s assistance to sit.
“Have you seen her yet?” she queried with any further preamble.
Vic shook his head and flopped down in an adjacent chair. “No…I came straight here. Just…not sure what I’m gonna say to her, or…” he paused and shrugged with a sigh, truly at a loss to explain his jumbled thoughts and emotions.
Husband and wife exchanged glances. This was an unexpected development. Fleet had envisioned something like a scene from a movie, where the ‘hero’ would come rushing to the door, the heroine would fling the portal open, and they would sail into one another’s arms. She watched Vic for a moment, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands rifling through his hair as if unconsciously trying to dislodge his thoughts, or at least comb them into order. For the first time, she was afraid that perhaps he had changed. Could it be that Vic no longer had the deep feelings for Louise he once had?
Fleet opened her mouth to question him, but at the last second caught her husband’s eye and slight shake of his head. Alec knew his friend, and he knew Vic had more than likely worried himself into a frazzle on the long, lonely trip back to Louisville.
Emitting his trademark snicker, Alec leaned over to give his friend’s shoulder a playful shove.
“Tell you what, Chief. The company’s got me on third shift right now so I’ve got some free time…how ‘bout you and me head on over to Vernon’s, bowl a few games, kinda hang out for awhile, hmm? Stretch your legs after all that drivin’.”
Vic contemplated that for a moment. Truth was, he despised himself for being double minded now that he was actually back in Louisville. He was ashamed to even admit to his ambivalent feelings.
With a tired sigh, he shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
Standing, he headed toward the door as Alec leaned down to give his wife a quick kiss.
“Be back in a little while, babe. You know where I’ll be if you need me.”
When he pulled back, their gazes met. No words needed to be said. It looked like their friends were going to need a bit of help – and this time, both Fleet and Alec were determined no stone would be left unturned.
Fleet watched the men leave the apartment, and closing the door behind them, she leaned against it for a moment. Pondering her best course of action, she chewed on her lips for a minute.
Then finally, she nodded to herself, grabbed her purse, and prepared to walk the three blocks to where her friend was staying.
‡
CHAPTER 32
The Emotional Reunion
“Is he asleep?” Louise asked as she reclined on the couch in Irene’s apartment.
“Yes. Your little Tommy is such an angel,” Irene murmured as she stepped out of her roommate, Betty’s, bedroom. Betty, who was away on an extended visit with her married daughter in Seattle, had given Irene permission to offer her room as temporary lodging for Louise and her son.
Glancing over at her young friend, Irene smiled as she thought back to the afternoon the two had arrived. Having just come back from the market, she had been putting groceries away when she heard a tentative knock on the door. Crossing to answer it, her mouth dropped open when she came face to face with the mother and child she had met on the bus those weeks ago – both of whom were red faced and sniffling.
“Goodness, child, what has happened? Come in, come in!” Irene had blustered, stepping back to usher in her two distraught visitors.
Little Tommy had hidden his face against his mother’s neck as Louise lowered herself down on the couch, quivering with residual nerves as she dried her tears with an already damp handkerchief.
“Miss Irene…I’m…I’m sorry to drop in on you like this, but…” Louise had begun, pausing to fight back another wave of tears. Confused and upset, Tommy had continued his huddling, clinging to Louise’s neck and whining softly.
“There, there, honey,” Irene had soothed. “Tell me what’s going on…”
Louise shook her head slowly from side to side, her life’s situation looking more hopeless than ever, and she was kicking herself for leaving Bowling Green with her despicable husband.
“Oh ma’am, so much has happened since we met on the bus…and just now I found the note you had written…I didn’t know where else to go…”
Reaching over to lay a gentle hand on Louise’s back, and to softly pat Tommy’s arm, Irene murmured, “Why don’t you start at the beginning…”
So, that’s what Louise did. Taking up the narrative from when the three had parted that day from the bus, she told the kind woman everything that had transpired, and the telling of it had brought back all of the hurt and heartache she had been dealt over the intervening weeks. By the time she finished, Irene was shaking her head in sympathetic amazement. Of course, she had immediately offered for Louise and Little Tommy to stay with her until Louise could get her life sorted out. Since then the three had grown quite close.
During that time, the two had discussed at length the fact that Louise had some very tough choices to make concerning her and her little boy’s future. Irene had given her some suggestions that might work, but the future had seemed so totally uncertain to the young mother.
Although Louise had not been looking forward to seeing her husband again after that nightmarish trip from Bowling Green, she had sent word to him that they had things to discuss. That encounter had occurred a week after the terrible fight. He had shown up at the door with yet another woman on his arm – a rather plain woman, a bit shorter than Louise, with dark hair and sad looking brown eyes. T.J. had introduced her as Alice, and had proceeded to tell Louise that he had made his final decision. He wanted a divorce.
The whole thing had been quite hurtful, embarrassing, and upsetting. Yet at the same time, it had given Louise an unexpected sense of freedom. She had been willing to reconcile, for little Tommy’s sake, but T.J. had taken the decision right out of her hands.
However, the problem of what she would do and how she would provide for herself and her son loomed large. T.J. had made a point of saying that he would ‘try’ to give her money for Tommy’s support…when he could.
Now, as Irene gazed down at her guest, a look of concern crossed her face. Watching as Louise gingerly sat up and removed the damp cloth from her forehead, the older woman thought she still looked pale and a bit fatigued.
“Are you feeling better, dear?”
Louise nodded. “Yes, much better. I don’t feel sick to my stomach anymore…and the pain went away. Maybe it was something I ate after all.”
The kind woman stepped close and gently pressed a soothingly cool hand against Louise’s head and cheeks. “No fever. I suppose it could have been, although we ate the same things…”
Louise shrugged. “I’ve been feeling funny for a couple of days…” she paused, knowing the probable cause of her distress.
Irene nodded, seeming to read her mind. “It cou
ld be that, too.”
Just then, they both heard a knock. When Irene opened the door Fleet bustled in and, without preamble, hurried over to Louise and reached out to grasp her hands. However, on second thought, she lowered herself down onto the couch next to her friend, as she was quite winded from her walk.
“Fleet, what in the world are you doing?”
Unable to contain her excitement, Fleet expounded between deep breaths, “Right now…my husband is… over at Vernon’s, bowling a few… friendly games and shooting the breeze. I’ll give you three guesses…who he’s with, and the first two don’t count,” she puffed teasingly.
Louise’s heart immediately began to race as she stared into her friend’s eyes. Could it be true…?
“Oh my God…Fleetwood Alder, if you’re teasing me…” she gasped. Then pressing a hand to her lips, she turned to meet Irene’s twinkling gaze.
Irene chuckled fondly, thinking privately, It’s about time the hero on the white horse came riding back into the picture!
Having begun to think of herself as a mother figure to Vic since meeting him during the Flood, Irene felt deeply invested in the life of the man she thought of as her surrogate son, giving him the best advice she knew how, praying, and worrying about him. Then meeting Louise and little Tommy, and having already known about the misunderstanding and Louise’s ill-advised decision that had torn the couple asunder four years prior, she and the young woman had become quite close as well.
Now it seemed that circumstances had finally come full circle and these two were to be given a second chance at happiness. Irene said a silent prayer that nothing would happen to stand in their way.
*
Her hands shaking, Louise tried for the third time to apply mascara to her lashes.
“Oh dear, I’m making a mess of things,” she mumbled, leaning back as Fleet bent down to help.
“Here, let me.”
Louise managed a smile, in spite of her nervous jitters.
“This feels a lot like getting ready for that dance at the K.C.”