Installment #24 Tucker

Tucker stared at the receiver in his hand.  It was shattered.  Damn that Margie anyway.  How could she take Cynthia’s side against him?  She was his friend, but she was conspiring against him.  Well, hell yes!  He realized what she was.  David had been his friend and she had come along and now he was her husband.  He saw it all clearly now.  Margie had come between him and David.  Sure, she acted like his friend, but when the chips were down, there she was with David and they were both against him.  Just like when he was a kid back home.   Mom always preferred his brothers to him.  They were always special.  It was the same thing all over again.  He swiveled his chair and glared at the talking head on the Fox channel.

     Even the damn television was against him.  Obama was going to walk away with this election.  He could see it.  There was nothing he could do.  Cynthia Browder, Margie Dwyer, David, the whole damn bunch of them could kiss his rosy red.  He did not need any of them.  He stood up and went into the kitchen.  He poured a cup of the day old coffee and warmed it up in the microwave.  When it was hot he grabbed it and headed for the garage.  He stared at the little car and seemed to feel Cynthia in the garage.  He kicked a motorcycle fender out of his way.  He sipped his coffee.  He turned the radio on to the classical station that he preferred.  He sat in his chair.  He looked at Cynthia’s empty one.  Cleo looked at him forlornly.  She knew there would be no walk tonight.  Tucker never walked her if the woman was not there and she was not there tonight. 

     Tucker was very sad.  This made Cleo sad, but Tucker did not stay sad long.  He became angry again.  Damn those women!  Damn Cynthia for being a liberal and damn Marge for taking her side.  He would show them both.  Hell, no he would not call either one of them.  He did not need them.  He had friends.  And how long had it been since he had been to match.com?  There were probably messages waiting for him.  The world was full of desperate women and he could have his pick.  He turned off the radio and lights, locked the door and went back inside and up to his office.  As the computer booted up, he sipped his coffee and looked around his office.  It was a mess.  Better work on it tomorrow.  He would have lots of time now that he was rid of Cynthia.  He was glad he had not introduced her to Marge.  She had not met any of his friends except Bob, so he would not have to explain where she was since no one knew she was here in the first place.

     He clicked on the dating icon and was pleased to see he had a wink from barbreathe65.  He clicked on her profile.  Man she was a dog!  Had to be almost 6 feet tall and would have sunk the Titanic.  Shit, she looked like she needed a shave. Crap, that message was almost two weeks old.  Well, he needed to get back in circulation so he winked back.  Almost immediately he had a message.  “Call me” followed by her phone number.  He picked up the phone and dialed the number.  She answered on the second ring and very soon he was pouring out his tale about how the liberals were out to get him and then he heard the dial tone.  Must be another liberal!

     He surfed and winked and in just a few days he was back in the swing of match.com and he kept his political thoughts to himself.  He had coffee dates and even took one to the movies.  Another he took to dinner.  But his heart was not in it.  After 3 months, he dropped his membership in match.com.  He thought about calling Margie.  They had been friends for many years.  He remembered their last conversation and left the phone alone.  He went to the fair alone.  Obama won the election.  Thanksgiving was a taco dinner from the place on Northern.  Christmas came and went and the day after New Year’s he picked up the phone and dialed Cynthia.

     When he heard her voice he closed his eyes.  “Cynthia?”  Without waiting he said, “This is Tucker Fuhrman, the big tall German from St. Louis.  How are you?”  He did not apologize, nor would he ever.  He did not acknowledge that Obama had won the election, nor would he ever.  He talked about his car, his dog, and the weather.  The weather was always a safe subject.  He did not press her for a date, even for coffee.  Somehow Tucker Fuhrman knew he better go slow on this one or she would turn away and he could not have that happen again.  He did not know why, just a gut reaction.

     Then he called Margie.  But she did not answer.  He would try again later.  They probably went somewhere for the holidays.  He smiled at Cleo and climbed the stairs to his lonely bedroom, smiling in the darkness.

Installment #23 Margie

     Margie stared at the phone.  “Well, Tucker, I would say you rather crapped in your nest.  I know you have problems thinking things through, but I thought you had learned to just set there and be quiet.  What happened to that technique?”  She waited.  Tucker was visibly upset, but he had no one to blame but himself.  He was radical and they both knew it.

     She had hoped that finally Tucker had found someone who would fit into his life in a positive way.  Cynthia sure seemed to fill that bill.  Tucker called her at least once a week and the conversation centered around Cynthia this and Cynthia that.  “We” was used very often in the conversation. Cynthia and Tucker were the center of many discussions when friends came by.

     “Hey, Marge, think Tucker is hooked?  Is he ready to pop the question?  I would have bet money he would die single.  Just never knew him to date the same woman more than once and this is going on over a year.”  It was always the same.  His friends were all married and Tucker was always odd man at the dinner parties.  Women just did not interest him much.  But this Cynthia had him going in circles.  And the best part was, she did not even know it.

     Margie brought herself back to the moment as she heard Tucker berating himself for losing control.  Margie had seen him intimidate women before and could only imagine what Cynthia had felt.  She had not met Cynthia.  Only one of his friends had.  That was hard to understand.  Bob had told her about Tucker showing up at the Memorial Day barbeque with his usual wilted cucumber salad and the very unusual date.  Cyndi was a rather plain girl, but she fit right in with the crowd.  Tucker pretty much ignored her and she did not pursue him or hang on him.  She just struck up a conversation with a few of the girls and soon they were laughing and comparing notes on ex-husbands.  When he was ready to leave he caught Cyndi’s eye and she told her new friends goodbye and walked to the truck with Tucker.  It had been a great day.  Bob did wonder idly if he would see Cyndi again.  He had heard through the grapevine that Tucker was “seeing” someone, but he was special because he had met her.  None of the others had.  Tucker was a strange one alright.

     “Tucker, it is not going to do any good telling me how sorry you are.  You are going to have to tell her.”

     “But you don’t understand, Margie!  She is a liberal.  She is a damn bleeding heart liberal.  She stands for everything I am against.  She is down there working on Obama’s campaign.  I don’t know how to stop her from doing that!”  He sounded so forlorn that Margie could feel it palpitate over the phone.

     “OK, Tucker, if you cannot stand what she is and what she represents, why do you want her in your life?  Why do you want to waste your time with her?”  Then Marge heard Tucker’s intake of breathe and knew what was coming, but there was nothing she could do to avoid it.  It would come and she would hang up the phone and maybe he would never call again, but it was pure Tucker.  It had happened before and it was happening again.

     “Damn you, Marge!  You are nothing but a liberal just like her!  I have tried to save you and I can’t.  You can go right straight to hell!  You and her both! Nobody understands me.  Nobody cares.  And I sure as hell do not need you or your husband.  And I don’t need that damn woman either.”  He slammed the phone down with so much force Marge wondered if it was broken in pieces.  She replaced her phone in the cradle and turned to David.  Tears filled her eyes and she reached for him.

     “Oh, David!  Why does he do this to himself?  What in God’s name drives that man?”  It wasn’t really a question and there surely was not an answer.  She knew it and David knew it, but he held her while she cried.  

Installment #22 Troubled Waters

     The first Saturday of every month Tucker spent in Colorado Springs at his motorcycle meeting.  Cynthia welcomed the break.  She caught up on house work, sewed, gardened, spent time with her family or read.  Through the week she attended her meetings, did charity work, lunched with friends, ran her little ebay store and generally enjoyed life.  Sunday she was always in church.  After church, she would stop by Tucker’s and they went to lunch more often than not. Sometimes they took a drive into the mountains.

     Cynthia loved to drive to Beulah and she and Tucker happened to find a little coffee shop that she fell in love with.  The Stompin’ Grounds was run by a lady named Jan, who was a devotee of John Lennon.  She was also a liberal and that did not sit well with Tucker.  So they did not go there again.  But Cynthia did.  She and Jan were friends and Tucker soon learned that Cynthia was a free thinker and a woman who chose her own path.  He did not like it, but that is how it was.  On this one point they both agreed to not discuss it any further.  And so it went.

     The election was coming up in November and it was beginning to get heated.  Tucker continued to watch Fox news and Cynthia continued to volunteer at Obama headquarters.  Tucker sometimes made remarks and Cynthia ignored them.  As the election got closer the remarks became more pointed. Cynthia only said “I will not discuss politics with you, Tucker.  You know that.”

     “If Obama gets in, the country is done!  Can’t you see that?  Don’t you see what he will do?  Are you that stupid?”

     Cynthia stopped breathing.  She very slowly stood up and started for the door.  Tucker drew himself up to his full 6’2” and glared down at her.  Cynthia had never seen this side of Tucker and it frightened her. 

     “You are a damned Liberal and you know it.  People like you will ruin this country and I will not stand for it.  Do you hear me?”

     Cynthia did not look back as she stepped quickly to the door, opened it, stepped through and closed it behind her.  She could hear Tucker ranting as she got in her car and closed and locked the door.  As she pulled away from the curb, Tucker came from the house and started across the yard.  She began to tremble as she turned on to Pearl and when she reached the Starbucks, she pulled to the curb and began to cry. 

     What had happened?  What in the world had just happened?  Tucker had scared her.  She had not been that frightened in years.  Her first husband had been abusive and she knew what fear was.  She was afraid of Tucker.  And it had happened so suddenly.  Was he that into the political scene that he could not control himself?  Cynthia was caught up in the Obama for Change movement, but not enough to react like Tucker.

     She turned her lights on, put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.  She was sure of one thing, she would not call Tucker, nor would she be stopping by.  She could think of no way that this could be explained and make her feel comfortable and safe with Tucker again.

Installment #21 And so it began.

     Tucker and Cynthia very quickly settled into a routine.  Since she lived in the country, and Tucker was a city boy, she would stop by his home and visit when she was in town.  Usually he was puttering in his garage with one motorcycle project or another.  He bought a kit car and started building it into a hot rod.  Usually his kitchen was a mess, so while Tucker talked, Cynthia would tidy the kitchen and run a load of dishes through the dish washer. 

     Tucker called every evening and usually several times through the day.  It soon became apparent that he was an ultra-conservative and she was a Liberal, so they avoided politics for the most part.  They laughed and took the dog, Cleo for walks on the river.  They became very comfortable in each other’s company, but something was nagging at the back of Cynthia’s mind.  For some reason, Tucker never touched her.  He did not avoid her, just never reached for her.  This was very strange.  Rick had always been very touchy feely and here was Tucker who walked alone, ate alone, lived alone and seemed to need no one.  But still they were very good friends and shared in each other’s lives. 

     Sometimes they went out to eat and sometimes she had him to her home.  Sometimes they cooked at his house, or grabbed a sandwich at the deli and ate by the river.  Just whatever they felt like doing at that time.  It was a very comfortable relationship.  And so spring turned to summer, and summer into fall. And in the fall Tucker told her about his surgery and about the chemo and that this was all it would be.  And she was good with that. 

     She and Tucker were close and that was all that mattered. 

Installment #20 Starbucks

    Tucker stepped through the door of Starbucks and was not surprised to see Cynthia already seated with a coffee before her.  They had talked on the phone several times, but this was only the second time he had seen her in the eleven months since they had met.  He tipped his newsboy hat and stepped to the counter to order his usual Cappuccino with whipped cream and a little cinnamon on top.  He loved that stuff and Starbucks was one luxury he had no intentions of giving up any time in the foreseeable future.  He picked his cup up and as he did so he dropped a quarter in the tip cup.  Then he headed for the table.

     Cynthia looked up as he approached and smiled.  “I had about forgotten what you looked like, but here you are.”

     “Yes, here I am.  And here you are and I have something to show you.  Something you will really like!”  He smiled as he noticed her eyes light up.

     “Oh, Tucker!  You brought me a puppy!”

     Tucker stopped and stared.  A  puppy?  Why would he get her a puppy?  Was it her birthday?  He was confused.

     As quickly as she had made the remark, she was sorry she had done so.  Tucker’s mind did not work like other men’s.  But then she was surprised when he started to laugh.  “Oh, you are teasing me, aren’t you?  You already have dogs.  You don’t need another one!  No, this is way better.  At least I think so.  Come on.  Grab your coffee and let’s take a walk.”

     Cynthia obediently picked up her coffee and stood, ready to follow Tucker.  This presented a problem.  Tucker was used to walking behind his date and walking ahead felt awkward, but Cynthia did not know where they were going so she could not lead.  She did know they had to leave the coffee shop so she took the initiative and they exited into the parking lot.  Then they crossed behind the Corona Building and on to the Chinese Restaurant.  Instead of stopping, Tucker walked on to Pearl Street.  From there they walked east until he stopped on the side of a tan stucco house with brown trim. 

     “Do you like this house?  See the park?  Right over there is the river.  See the three story turret?  I call that a witches hat.  Do you like it?”

     “It is quite quaint!  Are you thinking about buying it?  Are you ready to move to Pueblo?”  She waited expectantly.

     “You have to tell me first if you like it?”

     “Well, I certainly like the outside!  But you are the one who needs to like it if you are going to move in to it.”

     “Come on!  I have the key.  Let me show you.”  He turned the key and the door swung inward.  Cynthia stepped inside.  It had some furniture.  Boxes were everywhere, the kitchen sink was full of dishes and newspapers littered the floor.  Several coffee cups were on the floor around a black leather recliner.

     “Tucker?”  She could not say more.  She turned to face him fully and found him smiling from ear to ear.  “Tucker, is this yours?”

     “Yes it is!  I now live in Pueblo, Colorado.  No more Denver.  It is all done and I am retired.  Now, let’s go to Nacho’s and celebrate.  Want to?  Are you hungry?  I love Mexican!”  He threw back his head and laughed and Cynthia was sure in that moment that he was completely insane, but she nodded yes and Tucker escorted her to the BMW parked at the curb.  Mexican it was.