Installment #19 The Victorian

     Tucker laid the pen down and stood up.  George extended his hand and Tucker shook it.  The deal was done.  The three story Victorian with the “witches hat” was his.  It was probably the easiest deal George had closed in a long time.  Tucker wanted a Victorian and George had one to sell.  It perched on the bank above the river and held a beautiful view of Pueblo.  George did not know what the fascination was, but he was willing to feed Tucker whatever he wanted to hear.

True the place was in the blocks which was the older part of town and yes some of the houses were absolute works of art and he had heard that there was a lot of lottery money being spent on a walk clear to the reservoir and a kayak course.  Oh, and see here how there is a park right across the street, and you are on a corner. Great buy here, Tucker!  You can double your money on this one!  Never mind that the sidewalk is completely broken beyond repair and the foundation is cracked.  Oh, and that gang graffiti is from years ago.  And a little water and the grass will be all green again.  Just sign here.

Screw Geraldine!  If she had been able to keep her pants up, she could have had the commission, but she couldn’t.  And once more he thanked his lucky stars that they had never had any children.  Not for her lack of interest, but George had other ideas.  She was a good enough looking woman as far as women went, but George was more inclined to hard bodies.  Really hard bodies. 

     He thought back to his lunch hour yesterday.  He sometimes took his lunch and went down by Fountain Creek.  And yesterday Riley had been waiting for him.  Riley was young and eager and there was something about hearing the freeway traffic just on the other side of the sand dune and knowing someone could walk right up on them in the throes of passion that made him rock hard and made his climax earth shattering. 

     No, Geraldine could not come close to what he had with Riley. 

     “George? You alright man?”  George realized  Tucker was talking to him.  He swallowed hard.  Damn good thing Tucker couldn’t read his mind!

     “Oh, yeah. I was just thinking how surprised Geraldine is going to be knowing you bought that Victorian.  She had you figured for a town house kind of guy.  Women!  What do they know, huh?”  He chuckled as he ushered Tucker to the door, opened it, and wished his safe journey.  Time for a drink.

Installment #18 Tucker

     Tucker glared at the phone in his hand.  He had been calling all day and no answer.  She lived there, for God’s sake, why wasn’t she home?  Maybe she was ill.  Or maybe she had a boyfriend!  It had been three weeks since they had coffee and as soon as Margie had found her number he had called her.  Well, not that day.  He had lost the number about as soon as he got it.  Well, not lost it exactly.  He just did not know where he had put it.  Then he found it and then it was misplaced again.  And today he had it and called it, and she was not answering.

     This was the story of his life.  No wonder he was so unhappy.  Things conspired against him and time passed and things happened and then when he thought to do it again, things had changed and he had no control over anything in his life.  He glared at the phone and thought about calling her one last time.  He was having no luck on the match.com site for some reason.  Maybe he needed a new profile.  He contemplated that for a moment and then flipped on Fox news.  Margie had tried to tell him that Fox was slanted to the Conservative view point, but what did she know?  He watched the perky little news lady and was enthralled that she looked so much like Cynthia.  Or at least he thought he remembered what she looked like.  He reached for the phone and hit redial.

     It rang twice and then he heard her voice. 

“Hello?” 

He closed his eyes.  He could see her. 

“Hello?” 

He must say something.  He knew that at some level. 

“Hello?”

“Cynthia?”  He had spoken.  “Cynthia!  It is Tucker here.  Margie found your number for me.  I forgot to ask you for it.  It was in the phone book.  She just looked it up and gave it to me.  And then I lost it.  Well, not lost, just misplaced it, but now here you are, and here I am.”  He stopped as he heard her laughing softly.

“Well, yes you are there.  I am very glad you called, Tucker Fuhrman.” 

Tucker could not see her smile, but he knew it was there.  He knew it was there and he knew he would see it again.  And he knew he would look into those green eyes and he felt a feeling of comfort come over him.  She had a way of doing that to him, and he did not even know her.

     And Tucker Fuhrman, the big tall German from St. Louis smiled at the phone and then he turned and smiled at the perky little news lady on Fox news and he pushed his recliner back and began to tell Cynthia Browder about his job, his motorcycles, his knife collection and how much he liked coffee with two creams and two sugars.

     And she listened.

Installment #17 Cynthia

     Cynthia wiped the table down in the conference room.  It had been a lovely luncheon.  Well attended for a change.  Course if someone called the clients and reminded them, they would show up to the social luncheon.  This month John had done the calling and Cynthia had made a big pot of Sloppy Joe mix.  The AIDS clients loved having Cynthia cook for them and she was real careful to make sure it was all healthy.  And this one day a month they could relax and not have to think about anything, but know that they were all in basically the same boat.  The luncheon was held in the conference room of the AIDS office which was flanked on one side by the Starbucks and the other side by the Chinese restaurant where she and Tucker had eaten three weeks ago.

     She shook her head.  No sense thinking back on that night.  How silly she had been meeting a man online and thinking anything would come of it.  He had not even asked for her number and she had gotten online the next day and closed her account.  It was a complete waste of money and time.  It all sounded great.  Meet the man of your dreams.  Let match.com bring you together.  Sure.

     She finished packing her cooler and turned to see if John was still waiting.  He was.  What a dear.  He came and took the cooler and they started down the back stairway to her car.  John spoke first.

     “Pretty good turnout today, don’t you think?”

     “Yes!  But it always is when you head it up and call people.  Are you off to one of your meetings this week?  Is it San Francisco again?”

     “Yeah, but you know what, I am getting tired of all these committees.  I think I would like to concentrate on Pueblo and not try to save the whole world.”  He laughed uneasily.  “The kids actually need me at home. And I like to be home for them.  Ever since Valarie and I divorced the kids are lost.”

     Cynthia nodded.  She knew how hard it had been for John to admit he was gay and to break up the home he and Valarie had built for 15 years. Valarie had not taken the breakup well at all.  Cynthia could understand.  It must be awful to learn that your husband preferred a man.  Cynthia could not deal with that today.  She thanked John and gave him a quick hug and hurried to the driver’s side, slid in and drove away.  She breathed a sigh of relief that the day was almost over, but she did not relish the idea of going home to an empty house.  Maybe she had been a bit premature resigning from match.com.

     She smiled when she saw the dogs and the cat waiting for her.  They must be psychic because they were always alert to her arrival.  She parked the car and quickly opened the gate so they could help her into the house.  They were careful not to trip her, but she still worried about it happening and envisioned herself being licked to death if she were to wind up on the ground.  As she punched her code into the keypad she heard the phone ringing inside.  She hurried across the floor and reached for the receiver just as it stopped ringing.  She waited to hear the voice talking to the answering machine, but instead heard the phone disconnect.  Must not have been too important she thought as she kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse to the floor and headed for the kitchen with her cooler.

Installment #16 The Confession

     Margie looked at Tucker with fire in her eyes.  “OK, Tucker!  What the hell is your problem now?  I have about had it with your surly attitude.  Was Pueblo that bad?  You are the one that wanted to move there.  What went wrong last weekend?”  She waited.  Nothing.  “Screw it!”  She picked up her purse and started for the door.  Tucker jumped to his feet.

     “Wait!  Wait!  Let me think.  I can’t make sense of this.  Help me!”

     Margie set her purse on the desk and sighed.  “Ok, Tucker.  Just tell me what you think.  I know you have a hard time some times, but tell me what you know.”

     “OK.  You know I went down to Pueblo to meet with the realtor.  You know that.  I met a woman on match.com and made a date with her for coffee before I went to the realtor.  Starbucks.   The one right by the realty office.”  He stopped and looked at her sadly.

     “I see.  Oh, honey!  Did she not show up?  Is that what this is about?”

     “No, she showed up.  That isn’t it.  We had coffee and then she went to a meeting and I went with George.  Then we met again and we went to supper at the Chinese place.  We had a very good time, but then she was gone.”

     “Gone!  Where did she go?”  Margie was having a hard time following his thoughts.                             

     “We walked back to the parking lot and I put her in her car and she drove away and I have not seen her since.” 

     “Well, silly, just call her!”

     “I can’t because I forgot to get her number and she never gave it to me.”

     “Well, get on match.com and find her again.  That is not problem.”

     “Oh, Margie, I tried that!  She is not there anymore.  She closed her account!  I thought we connected, but I guess not.”

     Marge laughed.  “Oh, my silly little Tucker!  She probably closed her account because she met the man of her dreams!”

     “Yeah?  Well the man of her dreams has no way to get in touch with her.  No number, no nothing.”  He dropped his head in his hands.

     Marge walked to the computer and sat down as she began to type.  “Look, Tucker.  White pages.  Pueblo, Colorado.  What is her name?”  Tucker told her and she typed it into the space allotted for that.  In just a few seconds the number appeared.  Margie hit the print button and soon Tucker had the page in his hands.

     “Thanks, Margie.  I am sure glad I have you.  No one understands me like you do.”  He smiled wanly.

     “I know Tucker.  This dyslexia of yours is a pain, but I have been around you long enough that I think I have caught it from you.”  She laughed and Tucker echoed the laughter.  “So, this Cynthia, she caught your eye, huh?”

     “Well, sort of, I guess.  At least she will be someone I can touch base with when I move down there.  Don’t go ringing any wedding bells though.  I think I am a confirmed bachelor.”

     And with that, they left the office and parted ways in the parking lot.  Margie headed south to her little house and her darling, David, who sometimes chilled the wine when he shouldn’t and sometimes kept it in the rack when it should have been chilled. 

     And Tucker headed north to his lonely apartment and the motorcycles cluttering up his garage.

Installment #15 Cynthia

     Cynthia drove the speed limit the 14 miles to her home.  She always did.  It was out in the county and there was no traffic, but that did not matter.  What did matter was the empty feeling she had in the pit of her stomach.  Her initial meeting with Tucker had left her head spinning.  The man was a talker.  He had painted himself to be a very successful man and had many interests.  He had never been married and she wondered at that, but never asked.

     Her support group had taken a lot out of her emotionally so she was happy to relax with Tucker over dinner.  He seemed genuinely interested in her, so she had told him all about herself.  Even the 5 husbands had not thrown him for a loop like she thought it would.  She was new to the match.com site so did not know what to expect.  She had thought they had a lot in common, but then he had put her in her car and closed the door without making another date.  He had not even asked for her phone number, so she was sure that this day had been wasted.  She was sure of one thing; when she got on the computer next time she was going to close her account at match.com.  This was foolishness to be looking for a man anyway.  No one could ever replace her Rick, so why try?

     As she pulled into the carport, she watched the dogs run out the doggy door and leap at the fence, barking wildly.  Icarus, the cat lay on the railing of the deck, looking on in disdain.  She smiled.  This was home.  This was comfort.  This was where she belonged.  No 6’2” German guy with a pony tail was going to rock her boat.  She was glad he had not asked for her number.  This way she could not get involved at all.  She punched the code into the key pad and entered her little piece of heaven.

Installment #14 The evening

     Tucker was back at Starbucks at 4:15.  He was relieved to see that Cynthia had not yet arrived.  It had been a very productive afternoon with George and he had seen several pieces of real estate that had piqued his interest, but not enough to make an offer.  He was sure this was the area he wanted to be in when he retired to Pueblo.  There were a lot of big, old houses on the blocks here on the river.  The river itself was fascinating as they had built a kayak course and families strolled together along the levee.  He would get a fishing pole and maybe he could catch a fish!  And learn to whistle.  That was now paramount in his mind.  Something about the sharp whistle fascinated him.

     Tucker suddenly realized that he was very hungry.  And where was Cynthia?  Cynthia Browder.  He wondered idly what she usually did for dinner on a Saturday night.  4:26. She was going to be late.  Maybe she was getting even for that morning.  Then he realized that she was walking through the door.  Her smile was radiant and Tucker smiled back.  Something about this woman made him want to smile.  He felt like an idiot.

     He stood as she approached the table.  “Would you like a cup of coffee, or shall we just hop in the car and go find some real food.  I am starving.”

     “Oh, I am so ready for real food, but can we just walk right down the street about half a block and have Chinese?  There is a nice little restaurant just this side of the bridge.”

     “Great!  I am always ready for Chinese.”  He held his elbow out to her and she placed her tiny hand in the crook of his arm and laughed softly.  Tucker suddenly felt very protective of her.  He did not know her, but he knew he wanted to.  He wanted to know everything about her. 

      So the man who had monopolized the conversation that morning, now sat and listened quietly as she filled him in on the high points of her life.  She was a widow, having lost her husband of 15 years.  She had 4 children from her first husband.  And there had been 3 other husbands.  They did not have names.  They did not count.  Tucker had never been a possessive or a jealous man, and he wasn’t now.  He made no judgments, just listened to the facts.

     The meal was good.  The conversation was comfortable and it all ended too soon.  Cynthia had chores at home that needed done.  She did not invite him to her home and when they walked back to the Starbucks and their cars, Tucker was melancholy.  He liked Cynthia.  She was easy to talk to.  He held the door for her and when she was behind the wheel, he closed it firmly.  She started the engine and he stepped away.  She smiled sadly and drove away.

     Tucker watched her enter the flow of traffic and disappear across the bridge.  He suddenly hit himself in the head with his hand.  My God!  That was it!  He knew he forgot something!  He had not gotten her phone number.  How could he call her?  He couldn’t.  She had not offered it to him.  Of course not.  Cynthia Browder was not a woman who would push herself at a man that way.  If he had asked, she would have given it to him, but he had not asked.  And now he was here in the same city where she lived and had no idea where.  And he sure as hell couldn’t call her and ask her.

     Sadly he climbed into the Corvette, fastened his seat belt, reversed the car and also entered the traffic flow to head back to an empty motel room and a lonely evening watching Fox news.  Tomorrow he would drive around Pueblo and get a feel for the city.  Maybe he would stop at the Starbucks and maybe Cynthia would be there. 

     But he knew that was a very long shot and not worth betting on at all.

Installment #13 The day

     “Cynthia?  I am sorry I was late.  Traffic was a bear from Denver this morning.”  He smiled down at her.

     Cynthia felt her reserve melting away as they stood in the open door.  “Tucker, I assume?  I was just thinking how nice it is and thought I might like to set at a table outside.”

     “Sounds like a plan.  Let me grab a coffee and I will join you.”  He held the door as she stepped through.  He smiled again and entered the coffee shop.  He poked his head back through the door and asked, “Can I get you another?”

     “No thanks, but I could use a water.”

     Tucker smiled to himself.  Water was free!  This was going to be a good day.  He had an appointment with George Farley at 11:30 so he had about an hour to make a judgment call on this little bit of fluff.  He took his Cappuccino and headed for the door.

     Tucker began talking before he set down.  He told her about his business in Denver.  He told her about his motorcycle club; his photography, San Francisco, Minneapolis, St Louis, his sword collection, his gun collection, his jewelry making.  She listened.  She smiled.  She sipped her water.  Tucker lost track of time.

     Cynthia suddenly held up her hand.  “Oh, Tucker, I am sorry to interrupt, but I have a meeting for lunch at noon!”

     Tucker was surprised to see it was 11:30.  He would be late for his meeting with George.  Good thing his office was just on the other side of the parking lot.  He was having a hard time making the transition back from his hour of trying to make a good impression to the fact that he knew nothing about her!  He searched for words.  She stood and gathered her things.  He sat stock still.  A plan!  He needed a plan, but time was moving and he was not.  She held her hand out to him.  He grasped it as the only life line he saw at that moment.

     “It was so nice meeting you, Tucker.  I hope to see you again.”  She released his hand and turned toward the door.

     “Wait!  I have to think.  Wait!”  Cynthia turned and looked at him in astonishment.  He was handling this badly, he knew.  “Cynthia, I have a problem.  I am dyslectic and I can not think fast.  I am sorry.  I have to meet a realtor now, but I have a room.  Can we get together later today?”  Oh, God!  That did not sound good.  “For dinner?  I mean for dinner?”  He stared at her forlornly.

     She laughed!  Tucker suddenly relaxed.  This was going to work.  They laughed together.  “Sure.  I work with an AIDS Support group in town and I will be through with that at 4 or so.  Want to meet here around 4:30 ?”

     He smiled as he walked her to her car.  He smiled as he opened the door for her and he stood smiling in the parking lot as he watched her back out and drive away.  He felt like a damn fool as someone honked at him to get out of the way.  He smiled and waved at the old man glaring at him and he was still smiling as he opened the door to the real estate office.