The Widow's Friend (8 page)

I can’t remember the rest of the questions, so it is my turn
to ask you some.

1. What is a wife and what is a husband?

2. What is Santa bringing you?

Sorry, but I am having a hard time coming up with any more
questions. My brain has had it for the day.

I want you to know that I respect the fact that you don’t
want to talk about your marriage. When I asked about it I knew that it was none
of my business, but my curiosity was getting to me. I wish I could give you
some advice, but as you can see I am not so successful in that department. I
hope things get better for you. What is that song? “If you’re not with the one
you love, then love the one you’re with.”

Well, I guess I had better get something done around here,
so it is goodbye for now. Write soon, Callii

P.S. I wish I could write like you. I can’t think and write
at the same time. I think it is because I am so tall.

From Levi Stone

Nov 10th

Hi, Callii, are you sure I met Tacey? I would think that I’d
remember, but then again, maybe not. And my, but you had already “been around
the block” a bit when we dated, and were so much more streetwise than I was. I’m
amazed you even let me hang around. So I guess Tacey is roughly thirty five
now, maybe a little younger? Daniel, my oldest, is thirty and Bailey is twenty-eight.
Jace would have been twenty-six. He passed away four years ago.

Dang it! The timing sucks again for me to run up and see you
this weekend. We’re going to Twin Falls, probably leaving right after work on
Friday and coming back Sunday evening. I mean, what are the odds? I’ll be gone
all three days. But tell me where it is and what hours you will be there, just
in case. Is it called the expo, and is it on Yellowstone Avenue?

My daughter’s kids are having their Sunday school program
this weekend. It’s the best Sunday of the year and that’s why we’re going.

I can’t bring you the books yet anyway, the publisher told
me that the new book won’t be ready until next week—but I’ll believe it when I
see it. And you’ll be in Idaho Falls all of next week—so close and yet so far
away! We’ll see each other soon, though. We’ll find a way. But you’ll probably
get one look at me and it will turn you off like a light switch. Oh well, what
will be, will be.

Callii, I have to tell you that it is such fun reading your
little e-mails. You told me once that you found me interesting and funny. I
have to tell you that I find you to be exactly the same way. The last line of
your e-mail made me laugh out loud, three different times. (The air must be
thin up there.) And Callii you write just fine. I’m sure you don’t know how
much I look forward to hearing from you—every time.

It sounds like your sister has had major surgery, but to be
honest with you, I don’t know too much about it. My dad died from congestive
heart failure at age sixty-four, but he was born with a heart defect. I almost
died five years ago. I was 95% blocked on one side, so they put a stent in
there. But in reality I went in at three in the morning on a Monday and was
released on Tuesday morning the following day. They just went in through the
groin, through a vein, and did everything that way. They didn’t have to cut me
open, which it sounds like is what they did to your sister. There’s a lot more
trauma and healing when that happens. Your sister is a lot younger than you.
Was it the same mother? I’ll bet she and Tacey had some good times growing up
together.

By the way, I’m fine, as far as the heart goes. I went in
and did a stress test last year, but only because the division of motor
vehicles forced me to. Anyway, the cardiologist told me to go away and not to
come back for at least five years. Everything is fine. (Just so you know.)

Anyway, I feel bad for you and I hope your little sister
comes through in good shape. It sounds like you’re close to her. And not to
make light of this, but you, my friend, have a great heart. It comes through in
all of our conversations.

I was impressed by your answer of what a wife is. You said
it better than I ever could have. (And once more you impress me.) But now, I
guess it’s my turn. So, I believe that a wife, from a man’s point of view, is
simply two things, both a lover and a friend. If one of those two things is
missing, then you have a weakened marriage, and if both are missing then your
marriage is dead. It’s just that simple and it’s just that true. That’s what I
think, anyway.

And now—Oh no! I realize that you asked me what a husband
is, and that throws me for a loop. You’d think that I’d have considered it a
bit, but no, not at all, and that even surprises me! Hmmmhhhh? Off the top of
my head, I think one big thing that “we men” think of ourselves as, is being a
provider. I think it has been one of the world’s great problems, the last forty
years or so, that women have been forced into the work force, which sometimes confuses
roles and puts a lot of pressure on families generally. And let’s face it; we
men usually don’t share the workload at home like we probably should. I admire
women and have done so for many years. I openly admit to that, and often. Women
come home from work and begin their second shift. We men come home and flop or
play.

I also think that a husband is a “protector” of sorts. It
bugs me when a woman says, “I don’t want any guns in the house.” After all, she’s
not the one that has to confront an intruder in the middle of the night. Do you
have a gun?

But putting it simply, I think a husband is the same thing
as a wife should be—a lover and a friend. We should be “givers” as lovers and
treat our wives with the respect they deserve. I think we both know couples
that are just that—couples. By that I mean couples that are totally devoted to
one another, Harold and Ann, or Rick and Carol, people that come together in a
nice little package holding hands. You just can’t think of them any other way.
I have known several men over my lifetime that are completely devoted to their
wives. I both admire them and am jealous of them at the same time. That is the
ideal that I think we all strive for, and of course we should be great friends.
(Sigh.)

Where are you going to have Thanksgiving dinner this year?
And what are you getting yourself for Christmas?

For my Christmas, I may break down and buy a big screen TV,
put it above the fireplace, and have the professionals make a cabinet of some
kind for the electronic gadgetry that comes along with it, or maybe I’ll do it
in January. We still watch a console twenty-five inch television that we bought
twenty plus years ago. The damned thing won’t break! It’s kind of embarrassing
but it works just fine. The best thing I ever got myself for Christmas was a
snow blower. I almost enjoy clearing the walks, and trust me honey, I have
plenty of walks. I live on Hell’s half acre on a corner lot with sidewalks
running every which way. I also have a handicapped guy on the north of me and a
feeble, eighty three year old across the street. Oh, the responsibility! :^) If
I had a four wheeler with a blade on it I’d really be dangerous.

As far as my marriage goes, I’m sure you’ll hear rumor and
innuendos all along the way. Feel free to ask whatever you like. I’ll tell you
everything, and I’m not sure why. It’s just “us”, you and me and how we
intermesh. I hope you feel you can confide in me as well.

And speaking of talking, one thing that makes it harder for
a man in a cold marriage is the fact that women get on the phone and chat with
other people: mothers, sisters, daughters, and friends. But you don’t see us
men doing that. I don’t believe that Mary (and most other women) understand how
much we rely on their friendship. Yes, we have our buddies, and yada, yada,
yada, but you know what I mean. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me.

Congrats on your new little grandchild, and good luck the
next few weeks with all the things that are going on, especially with your
sister. And finally, you should try and get enough sleep. I got three hours
last night and it affected me at work today. I got back late from a five year
old birthday party, in Rexburg, of course, and then I stayed up late to watch a
basketball game. Doh!

Good night to you dear Callii. Your friend, Levi

P.S. Let’s see, ten o’clock to six o’clock is eight hours of
sleep. It will be enough for me to catch up tonight.

“Get
Together”

We were going to my daughter’s house for the weekend—at
least that was the plan. But Callii was having her fair at the expo and I
really wanted to go see her, in fact I was compelled to. I had already missed
her twice because of scheduling conflicts. Time was short, but I figured if I
hurried I could drive to Pocatello and get back before anything was said. I got
off work at three thirty and that gave me just enough time to hop on the
freeway and fly down to Pokey, and then I could be back by about six. I had
told Callii that I probably couldn’t make it, so if I didn’t show up there
would be no lingering expectations.

I raced down the freeway in my little truck. Time was of the
essence. I knew where the expo was so that wasn’t a problem. I just hoped I
could find her when I got there.

They charged me ten bucks to get in, and that was annoying,
but still worth the admission price to talk to my provocative little friend.
Inside there was a maze of booths, aisle after aisle with merchandise of every
kind. I stopped and asked one of the vendors if she knew where I could find a
certain workstation. She inadvertently rolled her eyes, but recovered quickly
and asked who I was looking for. It’s a booth called “Little Dolls” I muttered.

“Oh yes, Callii’s place, it’s all the way to the end of this
aisle on the far corner,” she said with a smile, pointing in that direction. I
nodded, thanked her, and strode away, but then I slowed down. I could see the
sign, “Little Dolls”, and a woman was working the booth. Would it be her, or
some kind of a helper? I wasn’t sure that I’d know for sure, after all, it had
been all of these years, and as much as I’d changed I was sure she must have
changed some too.

She, whoever she was, was busy with a customer and I was
glad. I strolled by unnoticed. Was it Callii? I wasn’t sure. Maybe she had a
cousin she was in business with, or maybe it was an employee or something. I
dipped around the corner and peered back from behind a nearby booth. I could
see her clearly, but I was glad she was occupied. As I pretended to shop for
women’s purses, I took my time and studied her from across the aisle.

She, whoever she was, looked lovely and I hoped it would be
her. She certainly wasn’t twenty anymore, but a beautiful woman is a beautiful
woman no matter what her age. I had been around long enough to know that, and
this woman certainly was attractive. I filtered through the crowd and pretended
to peruse Callii’s merchandise, but the merchandise I was interested in was not
a little doll on the shelf in front of me, but a living doll—the one that was
standing within ten feet of me.

Yikes, her only customer had just wandered away. Now it was
just the two of us. I pretended to shop. She walked towards me.

“Are you who I think you are?” she asked quietly.

“I think I’m who you think I am,” I said, finally looking up
at her. She smiled, and then she reached out a hand. She gripped my shoulder
and gave me half a hug. I drew her in and hugged her fully. This mild show of
affection surprised even me, but I was glad to embrace this old friend who had
been so fun to talk to over these last few months.

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” I said. “It could have been your
sister.”

“Oh yes, my older sister,” she said with a laugh, and her
humor was genuine.

And then we talked. It was awkward at first, but after a few
minutes we loosened up and the words flowed freely. She laughed several times
during the course of the conversation, and her laughter was a song to my ears.
Her conversation was as clever and funny as it was in her e-mails. I was glad
that I’d come, and I wanted to stay and visit awhile.

I put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. I
gazed over her head.

“See there,” I said. “I am taller than you. I can see over
the top to the other side.”

She didn’t answer but I could feel the softness of her
shoulder and I could smell the perfume of her hair. And then I let her go.

A customer interrupted us, so I stood back and watched from
a ways away. Callii was lovely, just like the picture on my laptop. Her attire
was a little on the wild side, with leather boots and jangly jewelry and such.
It showed that she had a tinge of free spirit in her, and that seemed about
right too.

The customer finally bought something and wandered off, so I
migrated over to the counter and we talked again. I made some off the cuff
comment and she giggled, then she reached out her hand and touched my arm. This
minor gesture sent a thrill through my entire being, because I knew that it
meant something. It was a positive signal and I would think of it all the way
home.

“You look great,” I said flatly. She gazed at me with vacant
eyes. I didn’t flinch. She smiled faintly.

We talked a little longer and then we said goodbye. I backed
off and then turned and walked away, but then I turned back and looked one more
time. She was with a customer and too busy to notice. I gazed a little longer
before stepping back and turning away again. I had to get home but I was glad
that I’d come, and I hoped that she’d been glad too. It was obvious now that
Callii was everything that I’d hoped she would be, but I was nervous of how she
might have perceived me.

She was lovely. I had hugged her, and she had reached out
and touched me. I thought about her all the way home, but I was nervous this
would make things just that much more evocative. Be careful grandpa, I thought
to myself. After all, it was all too very true that I was still a married man.