“It might not be as sweet as you like it,” she said as she was coming out the door with a tray and something under her arm. She held the tray with two glasses and a plate in one hand and with the other, snapped open a small serving table. She put it in front of them, set down the tray and took the chair opposite him. “You really have good timing—I was about ready for a break.” She handed him a glass. “I think this is the first time you’ve been to my house.”
“I did some work in the kitchen for you about ten years ago or so,” he said.
“That’s right, now I remember. That was a long time ago,” she said with a laugh. She took a drink from her glass. “This is a nice surprise. Thank you for the plant.”
“I should’ve called,” he said again.
“Why’d you come over?” she asked. “I mean, this has never happened before.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Wait, I don’t know why I said that. I do know why. We always have nice conversations when I stop at Home Depot or the diner for coffee, but it’s always busy. Half the time we can’t finish a sentence because someone needs you for something. Or else someone else wants to be in the conversation. And I started thinking, maybe I should really take you out to a movie, but then we wouldn’t get to talk, either. I thought it would be nice to have a conversation sometime without you being at work.” He sipped the lemonade. “This is good. Um, we’re both divorced. I know a lot of women and then again, not very many.”
“Now that makes very little sense,” she said.
“I don’t have any real close friends, that’s all. When I think about who I’m comfortable with, the people who come to mind are Sully, Maggie, Cal, a few of the guys around town. And you. I’ve been divorced a long time now.”
“But, really?” she asked. “Really divorced? Because from what little I know, you and Becky were together regularly...”
“That was my mistake,” he said.
She waited.
“I was treating it like a time-out when it was not a time-out—it was a divorce. I would be so far ahead if I’d treated it like one.”
“That’s a little vague.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize there were other men in her life. I was naive. I wish I’d known and I wish I’d moved on a long time ago.”
“What do you want, Tom?” she asked.
He looked at her. He realized he loved looking at her. “Oh God, Lola, I don’t want anything! I mean, I have no expectations, I don’t. But we’re a lot alike. We’re single, we’ve been working at least two jobs, raising our kids on our own, no spouses, no significant others. I mean, you never said...”
“I’ve dated, but—”
“We both get help from our parents sometimes. And I have a brother who’s always there for me and you have a sister, but... I don’t want anything,” he said again. “I just know I feel comfortable with you and it’s nice to have a woman friend. Maggie’s a friend but we don’t ever have long conversations or anything, we don’t talk about our lives. You and I—we talk about our lives. Our families, our folks, our kids, how aggravating it can be sometimes when there’s no other parent in the house to back us up. We talk about this carpool nonsense, getting the kids everywhere they have to go. I don’t have anyone else in my life like you. It’s...it’s comfortable. I finally broke away from that dead marriage and realized you’re the only person of the opposite sex I enjoy spending time with.”
“That’s very nice, Tom, but I’ve worked very hard to have an independent life, the kind I actually like. I’m not interested in dating. I don’t want a boyfriend. I get along just fine without a lover.”
That made him smile. “That’s good. I don’t think I’m a candidate for any of those jobs. Could we just be friends?”
“We’ve been friends for years!”
“I know! Don’t you think it’s a little weird the only time we ever talk is when you’re at work?”
“It’s where I am!”
“And you’re also here. So, Lola, how’s school going?”
She sighed as if she found this clumsy. “I’m taking a little time off. Summer, you know—though I could pick up some classes if I wanted to. But with the kids around more...”
“How long before you get your degree? Elementary ed, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” she said. “I think it’s practical. I love kids, I’m actually very good with them. When it was time to choose a major, it was the best I could do. I should have a career, right? Something to take me into retirement. Something to spend my next twenty years on so I have a pension of some kind.”
“I guess so.”
“Have you ever thought about that?”
“About teaching school?” he said. He laughed. “After all the years of homework I’ve invested in, I probably could. If I spend about twenty more years doing seasonal work for the county, I’ll qualify for a pension. My work schedule is pretty crazy, so many different jobs, but it works for me with four kids to chase around.”
“You like it, though?” she asked.
“Oh, I love it. I do a little of everything. I do chores for Sully in summer, I do a lot of building, mostly interiors. I plow, I pick up trash, mow fields, paint houses, do roadwork—you name it. Every day can be a new job and believe it or not, I like ’em all. Even the garbage pickup. Right now I’m almost full-time at Cal’s house—foreman on his project, which means I do some of the work myself, some we hire subs, some we work with the subs. I have to keep some days open for the county and for my friends.”
“I did some work in the kitchen for you about ten years ago or so,” he said.
“That’s right, now I remember. That was a long time ago,” she said with a laugh. She took a drink from her glass. “This is a nice surprise. Thank you for the plant.”
“I should’ve called,” he said again.
“Why’d you come over?” she asked. “I mean, this has never happened before.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Wait, I don’t know why I said that. I do know why. We always have nice conversations when I stop at Home Depot or the diner for coffee, but it’s always busy. Half the time we can’t finish a sentence because someone needs you for something. Or else someone else wants to be in the conversation. And I started thinking, maybe I should really take you out to a movie, but then we wouldn’t get to talk, either. I thought it would be nice to have a conversation sometime without you being at work.” He sipped the lemonade. “This is good. Um, we’re both divorced. I know a lot of women and then again, not very many.”
“Now that makes very little sense,” she said.
“I don’t have any real close friends, that’s all. When I think about who I’m comfortable with, the people who come to mind are Sully, Maggie, Cal, a few of the guys around town. And you. I’ve been divorced a long time now.”
“But, really?” she asked. “Really divorced? Because from what little I know, you and Becky were together regularly...”
“That was my mistake,” he said.
She waited.
“I was treating it like a time-out when it was not a time-out—it was a divorce. I would be so far ahead if I’d treated it like one.”
“That’s a little vague.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize there were other men in her life. I was naive. I wish I’d known and I wish I’d moved on a long time ago.”
“What do you want, Tom?” she asked.
He looked at her. He realized he loved looking at her. “Oh God, Lola, I don’t want anything! I mean, I have no expectations, I don’t. But we’re a lot alike. We’re single, we’ve been working at least two jobs, raising our kids on our own, no spouses, no significant others. I mean, you never said...”
“I’ve dated, but—”
“We both get help from our parents sometimes. And I have a brother who’s always there for me and you have a sister, but... I don’t want anything,” he said again. “I just know I feel comfortable with you and it’s nice to have a woman friend. Maggie’s a friend but we don’t ever have long conversations or anything, we don’t talk about our lives. You and I—we talk about our lives. Our families, our folks, our kids, how aggravating it can be sometimes when there’s no other parent in the house to back us up. We talk about this carpool nonsense, getting the kids everywhere they have to go. I don’t have anyone else in my life like you. It’s...it’s comfortable. I finally broke away from that dead marriage and realized you’re the only person of the opposite sex I enjoy spending time with.”
“That’s very nice, Tom, but I’ve worked very hard to have an independent life, the kind I actually like. I’m not interested in dating. I don’t want a boyfriend. I get along just fine without a lover.”
That made him smile. “That’s good. I don’t think I’m a candidate for any of those jobs. Could we just be friends?”
“We’ve been friends for years!”
“I know! Don’t you think it’s a little weird the only time we ever talk is when you’re at work?”
“It’s where I am!”
“And you’re also here. So, Lola, how’s school going?”
She sighed as if she found this clumsy. “I’m taking a little time off. Summer, you know—though I could pick up some classes if I wanted to. But with the kids around more...”
“How long before you get your degree? Elementary ed, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” she said. “I think it’s practical. I love kids, I’m actually very good with them. When it was time to choose a major, it was the best I could do. I should have a career, right? Something to take me into retirement. Something to spend my next twenty years on so I have a pension of some kind.”
“I guess so.”
“Have you ever thought about that?”
“About teaching school?” he said. He laughed. “After all the years of homework I’ve invested in, I probably could. If I spend about twenty more years doing seasonal work for the county, I’ll qualify for a pension. My work schedule is pretty crazy, so many different jobs, but it works for me with four kids to chase around.”
“You like it, though?” she asked.
“Oh, I love it. I do a little of everything. I do chores for Sully in summer, I do a lot of building, mostly interiors. I plow, I pick up trash, mow fields, paint houses, do roadwork—you name it. Every day can be a new job and believe it or not, I like ’em all. Even the garbage pickup. Right now I’m almost full-time at Cal’s house—foreman on his project, which means I do some of the work myself, some we hire subs, some we work with the subs. I have to keep some days open for the county and for my friends.”
