The Widow's Friend (4 page)

I am ready to leave again. I have to go—anywhere! It seems
like when I’m here I can’t get anything done because I have to take care of
grandkids.

Today was a very sad day at my house. The pool people came
and closed my pool for the winter. No one has swum in it for about a month, and
it costs so much to keep it going. What is your favorite season of the year? Do
you like yard work? I love it. I think it is my therapy. No wonder I am crazy
right now. I haven’t found time for my therapy this week—you can tell by
looking at my yard.

And by the way, I do wear high heels. About 3 or 4 inch
ones, even to do my yard work in. I like to feel tall. That makes me one to two
inches taller than you, so there you go. Add the fat and I am about 5 foot 11
inches, because flab makes you look taller.

Well, it is 9:15 and Mattie is still going strong. She is in
there laughing at the program she is watching. I guess it is time to put my
foot down and turn off the TV. And don’t forget, that foot has a point on it!

So goodbye for now, Callii

P.S. Who told you I was tall?

***

From Levi Stone

Oct 6th

Callii, you made me laugh a few times with this one. I think
you’re loosening up a bit and not being quite so guarded. (I may be wrong but
it seems like it to me.) I’ll probably be a little long winded again on this
one. There’s so much to answer and so much to tell.

Do you tell much of anyone that we’re conversing right now?
I’m pretty quiet about it myself, because I still wonder where this is heading
(or not). There’s one guy who sits across from me at work that I talk to. He’s
a forty five year old divorced guy that dates a lot. I also mentioned you to my
sister, Sherry, a few weeks ago, but I think she kind of blew it off. She did
say her good friend Barbara Sharp knows you, and that she would ask her about
you, but I don’t know if she will ever really do it. Sherry told me you were
tall and thin, and Kenny Pickering told me you were tall as well. I just threw
your name out there at our last party and asked if anyone knew you. I didn’t
tell them much more than that, other than that we’d dated a bit when we were
younger. Kenny also told me you have a beautiful house and described it to me,
and all this time I’d thought you lived in an apartment.

We were throwing out names of our old flames that night. Of
course I threw a name or two out there myself, but others shared them as well,
girls from the past, the very distant past of course, like in high school. If
you’re curious just ask and I’ll clue you in.

I’m sorry you’re so tired right now. Tired seems to be a way
of life for me lately—I haven’t slept that well for years. I don’t take Ambien
yet, like many others that I know, but restless nights can take a toll.

Where does Mattie’s mother live? Is she good to you, or does
she “use you” when she needs you—or both?

And I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings by saying that you
were just another picture. You were beautiful when you were young and you’re
beautiful still—I have seen your picture on Facebook. I’m sure if you look up
foxy grandma in the dictionary there’s a picture of you in there. All I was
saying was that your picture didn’t fly off the page and jump into my mind like
it did the first time, along with the flashback memories and enticing innuendos
that totally captured me. If you were frumpy I’d be long gone. After all, I’m a
man aren’t I, and we both know that men are pigs. And by the way, I can’t
imagine that you’re fat. Fat on you probably means that you’re normal for most
people. Your picture on face book doesn’t show any fat at all. Here is an old
poem that a jolly pharmacist used to quote: “When the age of forty we all
become, the men turn to belly, the women to bum.” Hmmmm? And forty is a long
way behind both of us.

I’m sure that your mom and mine have commiserated up there
in heaven. After all, your mother loves you just as much as mine loves me, and
they both want the best for us. You have a good heart, and that’s what counts.
I would just bet, knowing little more than I do, that you’ve had a few more “adventures”
in your adult life than I have, but who cares. You are Callii and you’re a good
one. And I am like Popeye, “I yam what I yam.” Heh….

You can see what kind of writing I do at my old dead
website: adventurebooks.com. It will show you my style. I’ve written a new book
which will be printed in a few weeks – “Carnival”. I’ll send you an attachment
with the book cover on this e-mail. The cover is hot.

I still want to pay you a visit at your gift fair in
Pocatello. It’s not that far away. We’ll just talk a bit between customers. I
hope that doesn’t make you nervous. I mean, a girl that’s been around as much
as you have—heck!

Now, as for tending grandkids, my mother made a firm rule
when my kids were little. “I DON’T TEND GRANDKIDS!” She really ticked off my
brother’s wife, but I think mom felt like she was getting abused. I guess you
might have to make a few rules of your own, or somehow find a way not to tell
them yes every time.

My little daytrip was outstanding, mainly because I got to
talk to Lynn Brown. Lynn and I became fast friends more than twenty years ago
when we were neighbors in Preston. Then we both moved and we ended up about
four blocks away from each other in Idaho Falls, and for a long time we didn’t
even know it. Anyway, Lynn has always been kind of heavy and he’s had diabetes
for many years. Lynn and his wife Carol are both overweight and they’ve never
had money. They’re probably looked upon as lower class people by much of the
world, but the world would be dead wrong. I have never met a better man in my
life than Lynn Brown. He is on dialysis now and has been on disability for
about six months. I don’t know how much longer he can go.

We went in my new car and started our drive up through
Ashton, cruised down and had lunch in Driggs, and then shot back down through
Swan Valley and back home to Idaho Falls. Good drive, good company, good
conversation. We shared some personal stuff along the way. I shared a few
things about Jace (My son who has passed away.) and he shared some amazing
stories of his own. We laughed and we cried. It was a great day. We’re gonna go
again in November. And just another side note, Mary and I are flying to Boston
in the not too distant future for a little getaway. I’m excited about that,
too.

Kenny Pickering has me interested in your house and yard. I
have seen your house from the outside, by typing your address into Google maps
and clicking on street view. Did you know you can do that? But, according to
Kenny, your house is wonderful both inside and out.

As for yard work, you can have it. I live on Hell’s half
acre and it’s my job to maintain the grass. My brother Brent calls me sprinkler
man, because I have twelve different stations and something is always breaking
somewhere. I gave up gardening in my mid-thirties. Mary does it now and I
sometimes say, “Boy, you sure complain a lot for someone who loves this kind of
stuff.” We have four garden spots and I try to help, but she refuses to let me
spray, she’s afraid I’ll damage one of her flowers. Sometimes I’ll spray a bit
when she’s not home, though. After all, a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

As for the seasons of the year, to be honest with you I like
all of them. I love summer nights and riding my Vespa after the sun goes down,
sometimes alone and sometimes with someone. The bike is quiet enough that we
can ride and talk at the same time. I love the fall, the beautiful colors and
the mild weather. I also love the winter. Mary has complained for years about
January. I really think she has that disease called SAD, where when you don’t
get enough sunshine it affects you. (Along with menopause, an attitude, and
chemical problems…. :^) Aren’t you glad you’re not married to me? My brother
Brent sometimes says, “You love every woman in the world except the one that
you’ve got.” He’s probably right. Anyway, I tell Mary January is for reading
books, hot baths, movies, theatre, basketball, hot chocolate, and on and on…. But
I especially love spring, where the world is renewed, our thoughts turn to
love, and our bodies seem regenerated.

Now, about how tall we are. I have to tell you, in all
honesty, I have always been attracted to short girls, never tall ones. That’s
just the way it is. Maybe I should start wearing cowboy boots again. What do
you think?

I’ve been writing for an hour, but I think I answered all of
your questions. Sorry to be so longwinded. It was fun to read your e-mail and
it was fun to think of you.

Your friend, Levi

***

From Callii Wilson

Oct 11th

Hello and a happy good evening to you! I have been making
baby dolls all day long, so I decided to take a break and catch up on my
e-mails.

How was your weekend? Mine was good. I attempted to clean my
garage. I took a huge truck load of stuff to the thrift store, and I love it.
It feels so good to get rid of stuff that has been hanging around forever. I
also cleaned my closet yesterday, and I am sending thirty-five pairs of shoes
there as well. I think I am a shoeaholic, and yes, most of them were high
heels. What kind of an aholic are you?

I loved your new book cover. Who is the artist? I also got
on your web site. You really have a talent. I am sure my grandsons would love
reading your books—me too.

I didn’t know you had spies out there checking up on me, but
I am an open book. There is no need for spies. I don’t have anyone checking up
on you. I don’t even know who it would be. I have one really good friend that I
share most everything with, but I really haven’t shared anything about our
friendship with her. She would be judging me. She tends to do that because she
has nothing interesting going on in her life.

But, just to make things clear, I am in this for a
friendship. I find you funny and interesting. You are a married man, I think,
and I am not into breaking up marriages. I am sure nothing would ever come from
it anyway because I am too tall, (Hee hee.) and you are attracted to short
girls. And let me clue you in, don’t you know that short girls have short legs
and they can’t walk very fast or anything? And an extra pound on a short girl
doesn’t have as many places to hide as it does on a tall girl, so there’s a
little education for you.

I can’t believe guys have parties with other guys. Is it a
Sugar City thing or is it just a you-and-your-friends kind of a thing? I love
throwing parties. I have a diner in my basement that I use for such a thing.
Did Kenny tell you about that? It seems like I showed it to him when he came
for my Dads 80th birthday party. How is Kenny doing anyway? You would think I
would know, being that he lives one house over from my dad. If you guys ever
need a place to have your parties I rent the diner out and I also cater. If I
cater there is no fee to use it. There is a theater down there too. It’s
perfect for football parties, etc.

It sounds like you had a great time playing hooky from work.
I like that you don’t judge your friend and that you take him for who he is. My
mom used to say that I would bring home all the kids that were like lost little
puppies and needed a friend. I always took that as a compliment. It kind of
back fired on me though, when I started bringing home the lost puppy dogs and
marrying them.

Well, this email has been interrupted about three times with
phone calls, and now one of my favorite shows is on TV, so I must end this for
now.

Have a good evening and I will talk at you later, Callii

“Going
Away”

I had a pit in my stomach. Callii wasn’t interested in me
because I was a married man. She just wanted to be friends. Friends, was that
all? The little….

No, that wasn’t right. It was just that….

And I felt like….

I knew she was right because I
was
married, and she had every right to feel that way, in fact I
wouldn’t respect her if she didn’t feel that way, but there were things that
she didn’t know. It was true enough that I was a married man and we should just
be friends. She was absolutely right about that, after all that’s what this was
all about and that’s why it had all started in the first place. But still, I
did feel a bit rejected, in fact quite a bit rejected.

“Are you packed yet?” Mary asked as she walked through the
room.

“Pretty much,” I answered.

We were flying to Boston for a one week getaway. I had won a
trip at work, but this free trip had already cost me a mint. Oh well, we were
both excited about it. We were going to see the sights and watch an NFL
Football game—just one more thing I could cross off my bucket list.

And then it got quiet. I sat in the family room and
pondered. It was dark. An old movie played on the screen before me, but I had
no idea what it was even about. The cat came to the door and watched me through
the glass. I eyed her. She did not look away. I went outside and picked her up,
but she squirmed to get free so I let her go.

“Stupid feline,” I muttered. “Just when I need you….” She
didn’t look back.

I sat down and thought some more. The night was crisp, too
crisp, but I stayed where I was. I felt a bit mixed up.

Am I evil
? I
thought to myself. I didn’t feel evil, but I had to admit I was pretty much
twitterpated, and I did feel a touch of guilt about that. Thoughts of Callii
preoccupied me in the daytime and visions of Callii haunted me at night. I
slapped myself up the side of the head. I needed to get my focus back. This was
all a bit ridiculous, but still…. I slapped myself again.

“Levi, will you give me a hand?” Mary hollered. Dutifully, I
went back inside. The light of the laptop shined dully from across the room. I
stared at its glare, but it was getting late and I was still perplexed. Shall I
or shan’t I? A quick e-mail would be so easy to do—but she had ticked me off.
Was I unreasonable—yes! But she had still made me mad.