Three Loves (Chapter Fourteen)

That evening after we returned to Anderson, Mike pleaded with me to give him a few good reasons why this guy I was so brokenhearted over wasn't just your typical jerk.


That was when I decided to tell him the story after making him promise that anything I said to him wouldn't leave this car.


When he found out the identity of my DEMOCRAT LAWYER, he practically screamed at me that I should have told him all of this.


"NOW I know why those guys were giving us nasty looks in Shapiro's! I THOUGHT those looks were directed at ME--but I know now that they were directed at YOU!!!"


He kept on with his tirade about how I'd involved both of us in danger that he wouldn't have been prepared to handle.


I tried to tell him that there was no danger involved--simply people trying to keep things as clean and uncomplicated as possible.


He went on to say that my DEMOCRAT LAWYER would lose interest in a person like me, anyway, and I asked him just what he found "wrong" with me.


He told me that he found absolutely nothing wrong with me--that I just wasn't the "type" that would hold the interest of a power-type person like him, because I was more of a housewife-type.


I said that I thought that I knew my DEMOCRAT LAWYER better than he did, and that he really WAS a very simple person.


"Yeah. . .maybe you're right. After all, people were always talking about how he drove around in an old Chevette even when he was in a position to afford more. Still, I doubt that you and he will end up getting married. But, tell you what: If you do, I'll give the two of you a wedding present in the form of a check for $25."


For awhile, Mike was considering firing me and finding another driver, because he was afraid that I might be dragging him into some kind of dangerous situation. Then, he decided that he wanted to keep me--but, now that he knew what he knew, we'd be going ANYwhere except Indianapolis when we made our rounds.


I worked for Mike until he stopped selling the headphones about a week before Christmas.


I was really impressed with my first electronic typewriter and was churning out stories, poems, articles, and letters--including several to my DEMOCRAT LAWYER.


Each time I went into Norm's store for more cartridges, erasure ribbon, etc., he never ceased to greet me with "Hello, Sunshine!" -- and I never ceased to giggle when he did!


Each Valentine's Day, our local newspaper has a special page for romantic ads that are so much fun to read.


On Valentine's Day, 1991, I was reading the ads when I came across one that said:


Sunshine,

No matter what ever happens between us, I'll always love you.

Love,

****



I saw it as just a coincidence--or, perhaps, a sign--but I never for a moment thought that he'd written it, though I wished that he had.


Life went on. I kept putting out JUST FOR FUN--even though I was now paying Pearl's friend for toner for use in her photocopier (something I'd offered to do when she told me that she didn't realize that I'd be using so many sheets of paper in each issue--and she was talking about the regular size that I was putting out instead of the oversized grand opening one). Still, it was less expensive than taking it to a printer, and I was able to keep putting it out.


Ruth's health was starting to improve considerably, too.


One day, Pearl's friend began a bunch of jive-talk about how the masthead gave Jesus as being Thee Boss.


She told me that she didn't see how Jesus could be Lord over a publication such as JUST FOR FUN, and she just didn't feel right about using her printer to copy it anymore.


She had made her decision by doing some nit-picking with the content.


I held my tongue, but I wanted to chew her out.


It wasn't that I wanted to chew her out for deciding she no longer wanted to take the time to print it out for me--which was ALL that she did, as I took it to Copy Connection to be assembled and stapled (and I'd offered to come in and do the photocopying, as I had started out doing until she told me that she'd rather do it herself).


If she had just been honest and apologetic, telling me that this assignment was more than she'd bargained for, I wouldn't have felt at all resentful, even though she was breaking a promise to Pearl and me.


I could understand that, sometimes, it becomes necessary to break a promise, even when you'd rather not.


But she didn't do that.


Instead, she tried to let on as if it went against her Christian convictions to print such a wicked publication--implying that Ruth, Pearl, and I couldn't be true Christians with such content in this publication.


This was a publication that I wouldn't have been ashamed to let ANYBODY read--and that included Jesus, Himself, if He were to appear to me in the flesh!


It was very hard for me not to say to her, "If you're too lazy to stick to your promise and print this, FINE! Just don't hide behind religion to do so!!! Using Christianity in this manner is a real turn-off for me!!!"


Maybe, I SHOULD have said that to her. . .but I didn't. . .


I knew now that I was going to have to make other plans--such as getting the issues printed at Copy Connection.


But I couldn't afford to spend the money to do it at that time, because I was saving for a very special vacation.


The national poetry convention was being held in Jacksonville, Florida that year, and Ruth was going to try to be there.


She was going to be rooming with a friend (also named Ruth) who was a retired nurse and would be able to know what to do if she really got sick during her stay.


She was so excited to be seeing poets she hadn't seen in years--as well as some, like, myself that she'd only been pen and/or phone pals with.


Her plans were to mostly stay in the hotel room and visit with poets who happened to make it up to her room. She would bring along some party food in case anyone was hungry--and, of course, poets were ALWAYS hungry!!!


Meanwhile, I was home writing a letter to be copied and sent to all of my subscribers. What it basically said was that JUST FOR FUN would be on hiatus until fall--at which time it would return as a quarterly.


Everybody who was already subscribed would be getting another year free with only newcomers having to pay for a subscription.


The convention was the last part of June, and Ruth was able to make it.


It turned out that I had to pay for very little of the trip, as my dad was free to share the trip with me, and we left a few days early so we could drive along the Natchez Trace.


We stopped at a lot of different lovely places along the way, including Tupelo where we got to visit the little house that Elvis grew up in and Natchez National Historical Park where we saw Marshall and were given a tour of the Melrose mansion and grounds by him.


From there, we drove on to Biloxi. While there, we tried to get hold of Eddie Alley, a really sweet guy we'd met through Uncle Kermit, but he wasn't home.


But we looked over the town some, drank some Barq's Creme Soda, and headed on towards Jacksonville. I wrote a poem about our time in Biloxi, but I don't have it handy. When I find it, I'll likely place it at PostPoems.com.


Once we arrived, we checked into a Best Western that had a whirlpool that I'd be able to spend some of my spare time in, once I was finished with my period for the month.


After we were settled, Daddy dropped me off at the OMNI where the convention was being held and where the two Ruths were staying.


I went to the front desk and asked if Ruth Cunliffe had checked in yet. I was told that she hadn't but that they were expecting her anytime.


After that, I went up to the floor where the convention was being held and registered for that.


By the time that I arrived back down in the lobby again, Ruth was at the front desk checking in.


Even though I'd never set eyes on her before except in photos, I recognized the back of her head (which I would remember a little later was the first thing I saw with my DEMOCRAT LAWYER on that wonderful March day of a year and a little over three months ago). When I heard her spunky and mischievous voice, I was absolutely positive that it was Ruth!


She said something funny to the desk clerk that made me laugh--and she turned around exclaiming, "I know that laugh!!!" Seconds later, we were embracing.


She introduced me to the other Ruth, and we all went up to their room to get things put away. Ruth told me that they'd planned to arrive much earlier, but their train had been delayed.


Ruth (the nurse) was worn out and wanted to take a nap, but Ruth begged her to stay awake long enough to take our picture together. Ruth and I sat on her bed, and Ruth S. took a picture of us before she started to get undressed for her nap--and advising Ruth that she really should get some sleep, too, which Ruth knew she needed but wasn't quite ready to settle down yet.


She picked up the camera with an impish grin on her face and aimed it at Ruth S. who was now down to her slip--and the latter told her not to even THINK about it!


Then, Ruth began to tell about all of the times she'd taken "embarrassing" pictures of friends and relatives--citing one example of when her granddaughter was expecting twins and was soaking in an old-fashioned, claw-foot tub.


Just her head, neck, the top of her shoulders and one of her arms was exposed at the top--but her VERY pregnant belly was peeking over the "horizon" like a sun that was either just rising or had almost set.


The next Christmas when all of the family had gathered at Ruth's, there on the tree was a homemade ornament that had that picture decoupaged onto it!


Ruth was, by now, over by the shiftrobe changing into a housedress that would be suitable in case company dropped by but more comfortable than her traveling clothes.


She was now down to her half-slip and pantyhose. The cancer had caused a considerable amount of weight-loss, so she needed no bra. She commented on how small her tits were now--and Ruth S., who was a breast cancer survivor, quipped, "Well, at least, you still HAVE tits!"


Ruth was still onto the pictures and was now threatening to catch me at some time when I was half-dressed and add me to her collection.


My Polaroid was at my side, and I picked it up and aimed it at Ruth, who was at such an angle that only her back and part of her side was showing.


"Do you mean like THIS!?!" I asked, mischievously, as I snapped the picture.


"Now, I KNOW I'm gonna getcha, so you'd better watch out!" Ruth cackled.


A little while later, I had to pee--and my sanitary napkin was overdue for a change, too.


While I was sitting there holding my obviously-very-used napkin in my hand, the door to the bathroom opened up, there was a flash, and I heard Ruth cackle, "GOTCHA!"


"You stinker! I want a copy of that when you get it developed!" I called after her.


I never got a copy, because, when it developed, Ruth noticed what I was holding and how it looked and had the people where she went to develop her film to destroy both it and the negative.


In all of the fun, I'd also not paid any mind to what I was holding, and I thought it was really decent of Ruth to have it destroyed--but I still wish that I'd had the chance to see it, because (according to Ruth) I really had a hillarious expression on my face (wide-eyed and open-mouthed upon seeing that camera aimed at me)!!!


Sometime later, Ruth had to pee. As soon as she was settled onto the toilet, I snuck over to the door with my Polaroid, pushed the door open, and said, "Hi, Ruth!" as I aimed and shot. When the picture developed a moment or so later, Ruth had that same codfish expression on her face that I must have had!


She told me that, until she passed on, I was only to show that picture to three other people: my folks and my DEMOCRAT LAWYER.


When I got home, I tucked it away in a folder in my filing cabinet in order to be sure to keep my promise to her--and, right now, I'm not sure just exactly where it is, either!


A little later, even Ruth was ready for a nap, so she told me she'd see me the next day, and we'd do something fun together.


I went to a couple of convention workshops before my dad picked me up. We went out to eat and then returned to the motel.


My new sanitary napkin indicated that my period was either over or so close to over that I could now feel free to use the whirlpool--which I did without any more hesitation than it took to change from street clothes into swimwear! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh. . .the only thing that could have been nicer is if my DEMOCRAT LAWYER had been sharing the whirlpool with me!!!


The next day, I met the two Ruths where they said they'd be: in the lobby. As soon as I showed up and asked, "What will we be doing today?" Ruth replied, "Shopping! What ELSE!!!"


There was a quaint, little mall across the street that she'd had her eye on since discovering it.


Since she wasn't that steady on her feet, Ruth S. and I each held one of her hands, and we looked like three paper dolls come to life (except that hang together paper dolls all have the same shape), or, as Ruth said, "Bet people looking at us will think we're three lesbians!"


"Of course," Ruth S. added mischievously, "we COULD let you try to walk on your own and get you arrested for public drunkenness!"


"I think I'd rather be a lesbian," Ruth replied.


"And, if anyone saw those pictures we took of each other, they'd be SURE of it!" I pointed out, and we all cracked up.


We had a great time over at the mall, and it was wonderful to watch Ruth choosing just the right gifts for her grandkids.


Even though she seemed much better, she still wasn't sure how much longer she'd be around--and this was something that we were all aware of but didn't dwell on.


That evening, Ruth was going to put out the munchies and have a little party in her room for any poets who wanted to drop by. I told her that I was going to attend a workshop but would let as many as possible know that she was there and what room she was in.


During the open-mike for reading poetry, I used my time to let anyone who was interested know about the party. Then, I left and said I was heading there right now, and anyone else should just come when they found the time, as the party would be going on for awhile.


I returned to Ruth's room and told her that I'd let everybody know, so people should be showing up before the night was over.


Ruth wasn't expecting a very large response, so she was surprised when, almost right away, several people came into the room. In a little bit, several more. Several were poets she knew--either through other meetings and conventions or else by phone/mail--and there were even some who'd never met her but wanted to meet this remarkable woman.


Soon, it was wall-to-wall people in the room.


Ruth looked at me and asked me how I'd gotten so many people interested in coming to her party, and I just told her that I just stepped up to the mike and told everybody.


All at once, she looked really worried, because she thought I'd meant that I'd gotten on the public address system for the entire hotel, and anyone in the lobby, dining room, or wherever would have heard.


"We'll run out of food!" she exclaimed. She was relieved when she realized that I was simply talking about the mike in this one meeting area,.


All in all, we had a wonderful time. First, we ate and mingled. Then, Ruth suggested that we have a round-robin poetry meeting. I don't suppose the last person left before midnight.


After that, Ruth put on a very grim face and addressed me, "This party has gotten me way off my sleeping schedule, and I'm going to be very sick for the next several days."


"I'm sorry. . ." I began.


Ruth looked mischievous again and told me, "You don't need to be sorry at all! I've not had such a wonderful time in so long that I wouldn't give a damn if it killed me!" She threw her arms around me and thanked me for helping her to have a night that she'd always remember.


She also assured me that she actually felt much better than she had in a long time and, even if all of the excitement ended up making her sick, it wasn't anything that a few days of rest couldn't cure.


However, she needed to go ahead and get some sleep, as she and Ruth S. had a train to catch the next day. I told her that I'd get over to tell her goodbye before she left.


During the night, she learned about one of Ruth S.'s habits of not sitting on unfamiliar toilet seats but, instead, lifting the lid into the men's position and hovering over it.


Usually, Ruth S. remembered to put the seat back down--which is why Ruth never knew about this habit--but, due to being up so late, had been a little fuzzy-brained and had forgotten.


Ruth got up and went in to pee without bothering to turn on the light and had ended up falling in the toilet!


There she was until she had been able to holler long enough to reawaken Ruth S. When the latter came in and saw her in there, she realized what had happened and was all apologetic--but, soon, they were both laughing about it and couldn't wait to tell me about it in a few hours.


I called Ruth, and she said that she and Ruth S. would be down in the lobby soon.


Daddy and I drove over to the OMNI, and, for some reason, I was driving this time.


"There they are!" I exclaimed.


Daddy, noticing that Ruth was having a little trouble walking (which we'd soon find out was from the toilet incident), hurried out of the car to help to steady her--but ended up tripping, falling, and hitting his head, which started to bleed pretty badly.


We notified some paramedics who came, fixed him up, and assured us that his vitals seemed good.


We had a short-but-nice visit before they had to leave to catch the train.


Daddy and I stayed a couple more nights in Jacksonville, as he didn't really feel like traveling too far after his accident. He threw up at least once, and I asked him if he would like for me to call someone, but he told me that he'd be fine.


I made him promise that he'd have himself checked over once we got home, and he said, "We'll see."


Daddy insisted that I go out and enjoy the whirlpool some, so I did--but I mostly stayed in the room with him for the rest of our time there.


When I knew that Ruth was home, I gave her a call, as she asked about him. We had a nice, long conversation, both about the convention and the wonderful cancer specialist she'd met on the train ride home.


I told her that I missed her and that I laughed when I thought about all of the different things we did--but, sometimes, I had tears in my eyes, too, because I missed her so much.


She told me that she'd been the same way.


On our way home, Daddy and I decided to stop on the north side of Nashville and spend the night in hopes of visiting Mark and his family, but they weren't in town.


So we ate at Shoney's, went to bed, and started home by way of Mammoth Cave, Cave City, etc. the next day, arriving back in Anderson later that night.


A few weeks later, I went to the Anderson Public Library to do some research. As I was about to go in the door, I smelled the scent of roses in the air.


While up in the stacks, I saw Fred Spencer, and said something like, "The people they're allowing in the library these days!"


He gave me a grin and said, "Guess who's coming to Anderson for a court case!"


Of course, I got the answer right my first guess--and my question was, "When!?!"


He wasn't sure about that but was thinking it would be in the next few weeks.


I was excited beyond words and thanked him for the information. We exchanged a little small talk and then went back to doing our individual research.


I wrote to my DEMOCRAT LAWYER and told him that I knew the news--and also mentioned about the scent of roses and how this was the second time this had happened to be followed by wonderful news about him!


A few weeks before, I learned that Dave's friend was going through a divorce--one that, according to his mother (whom I called after seeing it in the court reports in the paper), he hadn't wanted and was taking it really hard.


I hated hearing that about this special man. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have understood the real reasons why my DEMOCRAT LAWYER and I had to stay apart at this time. I owed him more than I'd ever be able to pay him!


His mother and I continued talking for what was probably a good hour. I don't believe I gave her my friend's name, but I told her that her son had made a big difference in how our relationship was going to turn out, and I couldn't thank him enough and would be there if he needed a shoulder to cry on. We then got on more pleasant subjects--such as her grandkids, which she couldn't brag enough about! And we talked about Dave--whom his mother said was one of her son's favorite people to work with and that his talents were underappreciated, which was the same thing that he'd told me a year ago.


About a day later, I went to the courthouse with some kind of nic-nak (with a dieting theme, as his mother had told me that he'd lost quite a bit of weight) as an appreciation gift for him and asked where I could find him, and I was told where his office was. He was with someone, but I was told that he'd be out in a little bit.


When he came out, I hardly recognized him, due to the weight loss! I thought he was very handsome when I'd seen him the year before, but he looked even better to me now! I told him so.


He looked grim and told me to step into his office because we really needed to talk.


TO BE CONTINUED. . . "Three Loves (Chapter Fifteen)"