creative writers' blog

a very wide gap

 abuse

Dinner at Leroy’s

I pulled into the drive at Suzette’s house. I remember it from the time I found the door unlocked and went on an exploration through the house looking for a trace of her. All five rooms were completely empty-nothing but stale air and dust. Now the yard was manicured centipede. Edged perfectly down each side of the walk and across the flowerbeds on each side of the walk and down the front of the house. Someone had taken care to pick out plants that complimented each other. The once carport had been enclosed to make that fifth room. From one side of the front to the other stretched a porch that held two rockers painted green to match the trim on the house. On either side of the front door stood two faux green plants that stood about four feet tall. In the drive was a candy-apple red 1968 firebird convertible.

I parked my old dodge behind it and made my way down the walk to the door all the while staring at the car. Now there was a car for a guy to dream about. I had only changed the oil, cleaned the windshield, and checked the tires on such a car as this. To dream about owning one was not even allowed on what I made as a “mechanic.” Suzette must really be rolling in dough to be able to support the lifestyle I was beginning to see.

When she answered the door she was dressed casual. She wore a yellow blouse and denim jeans. Her hair always set me ablaze and so did her smile. A tiny, silver colored chain on which attached was a small pearl. The whole thing was dainty and just the right accent for that yellow blouse.

“Hello, Justin,” she said.

“Hi, Suzette. You look great. You still want to ago to Leroy’s or would you like to go somewhere else?”

“Leroy’s is fine with me. Do they still serve that scrumptious hot chocolate cake?”

I had to tell her that the times had changed and as had the place. It was just a bar-b-q place before and now the format was “all you care to eat” buffet. There was a great salad bar and even greater desert table.

The drive over to the restaurant was quiet for the mose part. It was as if we neither one could think of a lot to say. I really had plenty to say but I didn’t know where to start. Feeling it was important that I learn every detail of her life for the last eleven and a half years. Wanting to know but not knowing where to begin asking was a problem I hadn’t counted on. Closed up in that old dodge mad it easy to inhale the fragrance she wore. She had the smell of apple cinnamon. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road. I wanted to drink up all I could of Margaret Suzette Prince for fear I would lose her again.

The buffet was great that particular night. This was the only place that served food like this; all you care to eat of one price and you served yourself. As Suzette took her plate she headed straight for the salad. Because of her I did likewise. Not being a fan of salad I half filled my plate and followed her back to our booth. Physical hunger was not what I wanted now anyway.

“Suzette, tell me everything you’ve been doing since the seventh grade and don’t leave out a thing.” I figured that was as good a question as any to find out as much as I could.

She just laughed and said, “You know that’s an impossible job. For one thing I don’t even remember much of those early years. And for another it would bore you to death.”

As she talked I began to realize that there was a wall between us that probably could neither be broken down nor crossed over. I felt to inferior to her. She had things and had been places. Her car said a lot about her and how much her parents had influenced her life-style. She just lived above what I could ever imagine no matter how much I tried. I was nothing more than a mechanic, socket jockey, and she was real upper crust. She was out on her own and I still stayed with mom and pa. I was working for myself and doing just enough to help mom and pop by paying a “token” rent. ($15.00 a week was nothing really.)

I managed to tell her of all I had done, which was very little, since I last saw her. I made sure she knew that I was working for myself and had plans to get my own garage before long. This was a real goal I set for myself. I loved mechanic work. Cars were my passion and keeping them looking good and running well was a challenge.

Even with all she and I talked about, I just couldn’t get Lukey, Lucky and Me out of my mind. That day in the park when we all competed in silly games as kids kept creeping in and out of my mind, especially that three-legged race that Margaret and I won. That was the first time I had ever been kissed. As she talked it all came back like a movie playing on the backs of my eyelids. I wanted to jump across the table and plant a big kiss right on those lips. I don’t know why she chose me as a partner but I am sure glad she did.

This first date was quickly coming to an end and I had to get her to plan to see me again.

“Suzette, this has been great. I really want to get together again.” I said, making sure I kept in contact with her and held on to what I had. I really want to say “what we had.” It was really like meeting her for the first time it had been so long. I know I am writing a lot about this thing I had for her but I find myself still searching for just the right words to express what I feel.