Simply Friends (2)
He smiled then. She had him pegged. “I’ve known you a long time, Ted. A long, long time.” She squeezed his hands. They were warm and quiet in her grasp. “It’s okay to cry.” “This case deserves it,” he said.” “Yes.” “Don’t worry, honey, your secret is safe with me.” *** The steak dinner had been very good. It was always so pleasant coming here to see Kim and to just breathe. He was always grateful for Kim’s company. Kim had owned this place for twenty-five years. The place was cool, quiet, and Ted had probably spent more money here than he had spent to go to law school. He didn’t consider himself rich but the salary for an assistant U.S. attorney wasn’t bad. He definitely had money to spend here especially since Leslie didn’t want child support from him. “Why did you divorce mommy,” Melanie asked once five years after the divorce. Ted had put together so many opening and closing arguments but now suddenly his eyes welled with tears and he couldn’t say anything for a moment. Then he said quietly. “I didn’t, Mel. Your mother decided she couldn’t marry a man who worked so hard on his career. It was her choice. But I love you just the same and I want the best for you.” Then he pulled Melanie onto his lap and said: “I will never stop loving you, Mel.” She gave him a soft look and he hugged her and then they went out for ice-cream.” Now he got onto the turnpike and went out to where Kim said he would go There was a flat place out here, a rock, the base of a mountain ledge and it was just beautiful. He pulled his car off the side of the road and sat there silently. He looked up into the vast, expansive golden sky. He put his head against the window, feeling the still, hot air and he felt his eyes smart. He sighed wearily and slowly, first like a pump that needed to be primed, one tear fell, then another one, then three, then he quietly sighed and let himself be overwhelmed by the day, the emotion, the case. Finally, here he could empathize with Beth, her husband had been killed in the case he was trying, a sad day for his country’s history. Suddenly, the meal, the sky, and the solitude had done its work. It was enough. Ted was objective again. He could handle the evidence, the expert witnesses, the stories. The defense would finish the cross examination on Monday and then he would recross examine her. In the heat of trial he would convince the jury of the defendant’s guilt. He turned his hand now so he could see his watch. The time was 7:45. If he got back to his house in time he could just catch the end of the baseball game. and the cat would be glad to see him, too. 2 On a cold, foggy evening, between winter and spring, when the world stretches and yawns and coaxes itself into wakefulness, Assistant U.S. attorney Ted Hamilton parked his SUV in the parking lot of Kim's Cafe, the familiar sight of the newspaper stand and the gold lettering on the building bringing comfort to his unhappy heart. A ball settled itself in his gut. A persistent ache behind his eyes threatened to spill over, a tear trickled out of the corner of one eye. He sighed and made sure his keys and credit card were in his pocket. He walked slowly up the sidewalk, and opened the door. The sounds, the smells, the little fountain poring water out of a woman's hands gurgled quietly, all soothing his lacerated spirit. He let his gaze linger on it for a while before a young girl caught his attention. "Just you, sir?" said the young woman in a friendly, soft, southern drawl. "Just me," Ted said. "Hello, Debbie." "Mr. Hamilton. Shall I tell Kim you're here?" "Sure, Debbie. Tell her Ted is here. Please don't call me Mr. Hamilton, Debby." "Yes, Mr. Hamilton." The corners of Ted's mouth tugged into a smile. His spirits lifted just a little. It wouldn't matter what he said. Debby would call him Mr. Hamilton. Debby led him back to the usual table and left him alone. Finally separated from the events of the day Ted could feel the waves of pain rippling through him, exquisite anguish that had taken years to form, all eased inside this place, the comforting colors, the white table cloth, the soft lights, the quiet music eased him. He buried his face in his hands for a moment. "Hello." The sound of a woman's voice roused Ted and he looked up and blinked. Tears glistened on his lashes. "Hello, Kim." "Today is Monday, Ted,” Kim said. “We usually don’t see you till Thursday or Friday when court ends for the week. You’re early this week. Has court been so bad already?" "Not court," he said, his voice breaking. "Not court, Kim." “Do you have cases this week?” “No. No court days.” Ted sniffled and cast his eyes down to the menu, pretending to study it. Kim wrote down Ted's order. She didn't have to ask for it. She knew what it would be. A twelve ounce steak, baked potato, salad, bread, and depending on his mood, perhaps a glass of red wine. He had been ordering this meal for years. She could recite it from memory and so now she wrote it down and only asked about one thing. "Do you want a glass of red wine," she asked. "You look like you could use one." "Maybe. I came here to get away." "I'll join you in a bit if you like." "If you like, Kim. I just came here tonight because I need steak." "You need more than that, Ted. Something's up. When you're ready, you just tell Kim what's going on okay?" Ted nodded and choked. "I'll be back. Just relax. Take your time. I won't put anyone back here so you can be by yourself." Somehow the hot tears slowly coursing down Ted Hamilton's cheeks felt better than punching out frustration in a weight room or drowning his sorrow in a bottle of beer or a ball game. Slowly, while he waited for his dinner the tears came. he sighed. Pain trickled out of his eyes. Debby came back to the table and set down his food. "What's wrong with Mr. Hamilton," she asked Kim as she wiped down the bar and took some glasses to the large stainless steel tray that would eventually slide into the dishwasher. "I don't know, Debby," Kim answered truthfully. "he hasn't told me. But I have my suspicions." "Is he going to be okay?" "Sure he will, Deb. sure he will. Matters of the heart are painful but he'll find solace here and he'll get better with time. He hasn't told me everything yet but I think I know what's going on." Debby waited an hour. then she came back and gave Ted his bill. He signed the receipt and put a $10.00 on the table. He had wiped his face but his eyes were puffy and swollen. Debby gasped when she saw the bill. He pressed it into her hand. "You work hard around here, Debby. You're here every week. Keep that." "Are you okay Mr. Hamilton?" "Okay,” he said. Ted’s eyes filled with tears. A bell summoned Debby away from her conversation and Ted was left alone. Debby went to the back office and showed the money to Kim. "Keep it, honey. You do work hard around here. He is right. Ted is a kind, gentle man." "he looks so sad." "yes," Kim said, her voice catching. "Yes, he does. Did you bring him his receipt and credit card?" "No." "Let me take it to him," Kim said quietly. "I'll talk to him." Debby thought that Kim’s eyes lighted just a little more than usual whenever Ted came into the restaurant. sometimes when he left she noticed Kim looking after him till the car drove out of sight. The long conversations they had with each other sometimes seemed intense. There was a lot of laughter in those conversations, too. Debby, quiet, reserved, observant, noticed these things. She gave Kim the credit card and the receipt and went back to work. It was a busy night. Kim Hemming knew that everyone who came in here had a story and she enjoyed most of them. There were the guys who filed in before going off to do their mail deliveries. There were students, parents, children who had children. She had seen and heard it all in this little café in Iowa. Ted Hamilton intrigued her. She had followed him since high school when his dreams of being an attorney had taken shape as a young adolescent. Kim had been barely older than Ted. She had seen him through his degrees in college including his English and law degrees. She witnessed his tempestuous romance and now rocky marriage with Leslie. She wondered if it was Leslie that was causing Ted such agony tonight. Court cases, difficult people, details, all these things never phased him. But Leslie could get to him. And those two lovely girls Andrea and Melanie, they were the apple of his eye. Sometimes Ted would bring them with him to the cafe. They liked her, too. She always gave them candy. Kim knew that Ted loved those girls. They were what kept him from spending hours in the office, though certainly Leslie thought he didn't spend enough time with her. Kim wouldn't judge that. Kim knew that Ted could get focused on his work. Now she picked up Ted's credit card and receipt and walked back to his table. He sat with his hand resting at the base of the wine glass, his fingers loosely curled about its stem. The glass was full. "You don’t' like the wine, Ted?" Ted looked up. Tears dripped from his lashes. they were silent, steady tears. Kim slipped into the booth opposite him. "Ted," Kim leaned forward. "Honey, court doesn't affect you this way. Tell me straight out, Ted. Is it Leslie?" Immediately, Kim knew she had struck the reason right on. Ted leaned his elbows on the table, cupping his face in his hands. His shoulders sagged. He sobbed quietly. A long moment passed. Kim let the silence lengthen. "She left me today." He whimpered quietly. "sorry." Kim reached out and touched his hand. She said nothing. She picked up a napkin and gave it to him. He dabbed at his streaming eyes; the tears kept coming. He took a deep breath. "She took Andrea and Melanie. I love my girls." Kim got to her feet. She beckoned for Ted to follow her. He got obediently to his feet and followed Kim back behind the kitchen, into a small, cool room that smelled of cleaning solution. She shut the door and turned on the light. A couch lined one of the walls, the desk another wall; the quiet humming of a computer fan was the only sound in the carpeted office. Ted eased himself down on the couch and leaned back into it. Then he began to sob brokenly, the slow breaking of a heart. Kim sat next to him and held his left hand. Tears dripped onto her fingers. Occasionally she would reach up and wipe his face. She reached up and kissed his salty cheek. "You just stay here," she said gently. "Just stay here as long as you need to. I wanted to bring you back here, to give you some privacy. People might stare. Your grief is none of their damned business." Ted chuckled a little, then collapsed into a heap on the couch, burying his face in the soft, encompassing cushions, sobbing, bawling, whimpering, choking, till his shoulders heaved and slowly the grief eased and he lay spent. Kim knelt beside him, she pushed straggling tendrils of dark brown hair back from his forehead. She went into a small bathroom, wetted a towel with warm water and brought it out to him. She knelt down and wiped his face, gently caressing the tear stains. "It hurts," he said in the depths of despair. "And most of it is my fault. And my girls. They all left for New York today. Leslie said she'd had enough. I don't blame her. But it's the girls I miss most. I'll see them, but today it just hurts." Sometimes friends have opinions about other friends that are better left unsaid because given time the troubles that bother friends about other friends work themselves out. Leslie was one such trouble about which Kim had an opinion. She had known from the very beginning of Ted and Leslie’s stormy courtship and marriage that Leslie was not a good choice for Ted. Leslie required more attention. What Ted needed from a woman wasn't what Leslie needed from a man. Ted needed a companion who would give him his space. Leslie needed someone who would shower her with attention. Kim had always kept her opinion to herself about Ted's choice of a wife. During Ted and Leslie’s courtship, Ted would sit in the restaurant and tell Kim that others said he was making a bad choice. Kim would nod. Yes. She had predicted long ago that Ted would end up on her couch in a ball of tears because Leslie would ultimately choose to leave him. Kim thought the only good thing for Ted that had come out of this marriage was his daughters. Ted loved Andrea and Melanie like he had never loved Leslie. Now she quietly kissed his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears. She quietly left him alone and went back to work. She knew these things would sort themselves out. When Kim returned to her office after the restaurant closed she found it empty. On the desk Ted had left a note neatly written in his precise hand. "Kim, thanks for the shoulder. Thank you for not telling me I messed up. You are a priceless gift. The world is always right again when I come here. See you at the end of the week. Love your friend, Ted.” 3 “Money makes people greedy,” assistant U.S. attorney Ted Hamilton said pushing back his plate. He licked his lips to taste the last remnants of Kim’s cherry pie. He sat back and stretched. “You have money,” she said smiling a little. Ten years now Ted Hamilton had been coming to her restaurant. She could say anything he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. “But I’m not greedy,” he chuckled a little. He sighed, a gesture that was characteristic of his quiet yet expressive personality. Ted somehow knew how to say just the right thing without saying too much. “No, you’re not,” she agreed. You’re just upset because of the prices the contractors want for building you a house,” she said. “Why don’t’ you just go buy a built one? I have friends who have a charming little place out here that you might like.”
Copyright © 2008 Shelley J Alongi |