Under the Leaves

UNDER THE LEAVES

Joyce Peterson

Hank got in the old Ford and turned the key. The rusty truck just grunted its displeasure. Hank turned the key again. "Come on, Arabella. You can do it. I have to get down to that last cabin and I don't feel like walking today." Arabella again grunted her refusal.

Hank and Arabella had both been a lot younger when he and Molly had bought this place. Now, Molly was gone, in body if not in spirit, and it looked like the old ford was headed for Fordville Junkyard.

Hank knew that ,before long, he would have to make some arrangement for "Hunters' Cabins" and move into town, near his daughter so she could do the daughter thing she had been hinting that it was time for her to do. Hank wasn't ready yet.

When he turned the key for the third time and yelled, "Damn you, Arabella, maybe I'll just park you on the dump and see if anybody else wants you," Although Arabella didn't exactly purr when the key was turned again, she did start but coughed a few times.

"I know, old girl," Hank told her, "I don't feel like going either, but two days ago, it looked like the wind had blown those leaves a little high on the other side of that cabin. I thought we'd better take a look."

"Hunter's Cabins" were just a string of cabins down a side road from the little town of Summervile. They were cheap cabins, rented to hunter's during the season , and, any time, to families that couldn't afford the price of the big fancy motels along the highway. Of course, since it was out of the way of most traffic, they occasionally got a couple that wanted the privacy. They tried to keep the last couple of cabins for them. Most of the restaurants in town knew of the place and told anyone who asked about cheaper places to stay. Hank and Molly had made a reasonable living running it so, as long as he was here, staying in the cabin that had been theirs from the time of their purchase, he would feel independent, and the ghost of Molly would be with him.

She had always been the one to plan for the future. Hank figured she had an inkling about her death. He knew that was why, last year, Molly had brought in her younger sister, Lena, and her husband, Jim, to help out. They were both in there early sixties so were not youngsters. Their kids had grown up and moved away and Jim had been thinking about retiring. It had been a good arrangement , since Lena seemed to have Molly's affinity for ordering things for the cabins and Jim took over some of the maintenance that had always been Hank's job. He felt that he and his in-laws could come to some agreement when it came time for him to…go but he wasn't ready, not yet. They had local people who did the cleaning and other jobs that had to be done so "Hunter's Cabins" had gone on when Molly had died. However, Hank was sure her spirit was still there to see that things went well.

Arabella seemed to know her way to the last cabin because, while Hank had been musing about the fate of "Hunter's Cabins", she had brought him to the last cabin on the lot.

"Good Girl," he said as he patted her steering wheel.

"You better be getting her in for a tune up." Hank could hear Molly's voice as clearly as if she had been sitting next to him.

"As soon as I can get around to it," he told her and he heard her "Humpf" as he got out of the truck and closed the door. He reached into the back of the truck and took out a rake.

"You're not going to need that. There's always that old rake you forgot to take with you last time you were down here," Molly told him.

"I wish you would stop that," he told the empty space around him as he put the rake back." He had turned the corner of the cabin and, by golly, she was right, there was that old rake leaning against the side wall. Besides, there was a burn spot down the hill that was far enough away from the cabin to keep it safe from a fire that had burned the leaves. "Jim must have been down here earlier and done that." Come to think of it, there was the smell of burned leaves in the air yesterday.

"He did," he thought he heard Molly again. He remembered how against the idea, of bringing Lena and Jim to help out with their cabins, he had been.. He hadn't known how ill Molly was. She kept it from him until she needed to bring them to help, as she grew weaker.

"Sorry about that, Moll, you should have told me," he apologized, belatedly, again to empty space. He didn't get a reply but he knew what she might have said. It was one of her favorite sayings when she finally got around to telling him something she had done or something she had bought, "You didn't need to know."

"Well, I don't think there's anything for me to do here. Jim's done it all." He had said it to himself but he was sure he heard Molly hum, "Unh, unh". It had always been her way of telling him he hadn't finished whatever project he had started, so he started to look around to see if there was something more he could do.

There seemed to be some kind of bright glitter coming from the grass near him. He raked it with his foot, then, leaned down to push the grass aside. His fingers closed on a fairly large green jewel. He picked it up and examined it more closely. "Probably just something that fell out of someone's cheap necklace," he told himself as he stuck it in his pocket. He listened to see if Molly might have more to say but he could hear only the sound of the cool, fall breeze whispering through the trees.

"OK, Arabella," he said to the truck as he got in and turned the key. "You ready to go home?" She answered him by turning over on the first try.

After he drove into the space beside his cabin and parked, he pulled the green stone out of his pocket. "I think I'll show this to Lena and Jim. See if they have any thoughts on it," he told himself as he went to the office next door.

When they had come to live here, Lena and Jim had taken the rooms behind it as their living space. Hank and Molly had used that space for storage, but Lena and Jim had done a good job of fixing it up so they could be available for any new customers.

"Anybody up?" Hank yelled.

Lena came from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She was tall and thin and, with her graying hair, green eyes and that smile on her face, she looked so much like Molly that Hank always looked twice to be sure it was Lena.

"Jim," she called out. "It's our landlord." Lena had always made it easy for him by teasing him about owning the place. She knew they were more than employees. In fact, he had hinted about selling them the place sooner or later.

Jim came from the back, wiping his face on a napkin. He was a big man with salt and pepper hair. His blue twinkling blue eyes seemed to match his face that always carried a smile. His broad shoulders stretched the flannel work shirt he wore. "What're you doing up so early, Hank?"

"I went down to rake that pile of leaves away from that last cabin. I was afraid that if it caught fire everything would go. Should have done it yesterday but it slipped my mind." Hank explained.

"Sorry I forgot to tell you. I went down yesterday and did that. Thought I'd save you the trouble. You've been looking tired lately." Jim sounded like he was apologizing.

"I appreciate that, Jimbo. I haven't been feeling like doing as much as I used to." Hank had used the name he always used for his brother-in-law unless he felt that what he had to say was important.

"Hey, wait a minute," Jim said as he went to the back of the house then came back with something in his hand. "Look what I found in those leaves yesterday." He opened his hand to reveal a lovely green necklace that was missing a big stone from the center. "I looked all over but I couldn't find the stone that's missing."

"Well, I'll be darned," Hank said as he reached in his pocket and pulled out the stone . "We found it," he bragged as he opened his hand.

Lena and Jim smiled at each other. They had heard Hank use "We or Us" when he meant himself and Molly. They never brought it to his attention. They thought it best to humor him at his age, after all, he was a lot older than they were.

Lena took the necklace and squinted her eyes to look at it. "I don't know. It might be worth a lot. Maybe you should ask the sheriff if anyone has lost a green necklace or, maybe had it stolen. If I owned it, I'd sure be glad to get it back." She handed it to Jim who gave it to Hank, along with the stone.

"They go together so you better have both of them if you're going to see the sheriff," he told him

Hank wasn't sure. "I don't know…"

Molly seemed to be telling him to listen to Lena. Lena had Molly's good, common sense about everything.

"OK," he told both of them. "I'll go down to the see him after breakfast." He started out to go to his cabin to get his usual breakfast of cereal, juice, and coffee, the instant kind. He never cooked unless he had company which was seldom. Molly still nagged him about it, so he did fix himself eggs and bacon, if he felt up to it.

Lena called him back. "Why don't you eat with us? We're having pancakes and there's plenty of batter."

"Thanks, Lena. I can't remember the last time…" He knew that the last time he had pancakes was when Molly was alive but Molly stopped him from telling Lena when she "Sh'd" him and whispered, "She doesn't need to know that."

Lena saw his discomfort and told him, "Come on back. It will only take a minute to get things ready. It will be good to have a nice talk."

Hank told her, "That would be nice," as he followed her.

After breakfast, Hank took his dishes to the sink, as Molly reminded him. "I think I'll take that necklace and the stone and go down to the sheriff's. Want to come along, Jim?" He hoped Jim would say "yes" because doing something, like talking to an important person like a sheriff, was not easy for him to do without backup. "You don't need Jim, I'll be there." Molly told him.

"Sorry, Hank," Jim apologized, " I've got a lot to do today. One of our cabin workers isn't coming in today and Lena is going to help out so I should stay in the office."

"That's OK. We'll be all right. He seemed like a nice guy the few times I've had to call him to come here." Hank didn't sound sure since he hadn't had to call him very often.

As he started for the car, Molly told him to get the license plate number from the car that had been at the last cabin two nights ago. He asked Jim to look it up and write down. He put the note in his pocket as he reluctantly went out and climbed in the truck.

Arabella must have thought it was the right thing to do because she started right up, "Guess that makes it unanimous." Hank told her.

The Sheriff's office was on the way to town so he was pulling into the parking lot in less than ten minutes. When he walked into the office, he recognized the young officer who, about once a month, rented one of those last two cabins. He was about to greet him more heartily than he might have done, when he heard Molly whisper, "Don't do it!"

"Hi," he told the young man, "I'd like to see Sheriff Daley." He was sure he saw the relief on the officer's face.

"Somebody to see you, Sheriff," the young man told the intercom.

"Tell'm to come on in," the box answered.

Hank opened the door to the only office in the building. Sheriff finished signing a paper as he motioned to a chair. "What's your trouble today, Mr. Harris?" He asked.

Hank was so surprised that anyone knew his last name that he almost missed the chair as he sat down. "You can call me Hank. Everybody else does. And I don't have any trouble except for this green necklace." He put the item on the desk. "I was wondering if anyone reported something like this, lost or stolen."

The Sheriff picked it up then reached to a corner of his desk and picked up a paper that seemed to be a list. After looking it over, he handed the paper to Hank. "I don't see anything like it on the list. See?"

Giving it a quick look, Hank told him, "You're right. But, if someone happens to call it in later, could you let me know? I think it might have been someone in one of my cabins a couple of nights ago."

"Do you have the name and address of the person in the cabin that night?" The Sheriff asked.

Hank shook his head. "We have a couple of John Smith cabins down there so I don't think a name would help but maybe a name from the license number of his car will help. We always double check those." He handed the Sheriff the slip of paper that had a license written down on it.

The Sheriff took out the slip of paper that Hank gave him. "People don't have any privacy any more. They should realize that," he grumbled.

"Nice officer you have out there." Hank told him.

The Sheriff had a proud look on his face as he said, "My son," he said. "They don't come any better. He joined the force a month ago. He's a whiz on the computer and a good policeman. We're glad he decided to join up."

Hank smiled to himself as Molly whispered, "He doesn't need to know about the boy renting that cabin."

"I know that, "he told her, then, realizing that he had said it aloud, added, "He must be a big help."

When the young man came in, the Sheriff handed him the necklace and the slip of paper. "Here, Dan, see if you can find out if this necklace is worth anything. Then, get a name to go with this license number."

Hank smiled at the officer as he congratulated him for joining the Sheriff's department.

The officer was back before Hank had finished explaining to the Sheriff how they had found both parts of the necklace. "As far as I can tell, it's an expensive necklace. The computer said that, if there was a flaw in the gem, it was probably a genuine emerald. There was a flaw in the loose one. We could always take it down to the jewelery store and ask Mr. Worthington."

"Later, maybe," his father told him. "How about that license number? Did you get a name?"

The boy looked at something he had written on the paper. "Belongs to "Arthur Ashley.The address is 365 Maple Dr. That's a pretty exclusive part of Summerville. " he answered as he handed the necklace and the paper to the Sheriff.

Hank held out his hand for the necklace and the paper, but the Sheriff said. "We'd better find an evidence box for these until we find out what's going on," he told Hank, then turned to his son. "Get a phone number for me. I'll make the call,"

Hank wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do. "Guess I can go now?" He asked

The Sheriff held out his hand. "I'll let you know what happens. We can take it from here."

Hank felt he had been dismissed as he shook the man's hand and turned to go.

"Thanks for coming in," the Sheriff told him.

When Hank left the office, the young man followed him out. "Hope you got the problem all straightened out, Mr.Harris."

"I did," Hank answered as the officer followed him to his car.

"Thanks for not giving me away. I'm dating someone my Dad doesn't like. The only way we can see each other is at your place." Hank saw that the boy's face had turned a bright red.

"You don't owe me any explanations son. We rent cabins not gossip." Hank told him.

"I know, but I was listening to what you told my Dad and we were in the cabin next to that last one that same night. Maybe what we heard might help if you can keep us out of it someway." The boy pleaded. Hank nodded. "Well, first the car came. We had seen that same car before. But, later, we saw another car pull up in front of our cabin. A few minutes later, a lady got out and walked into the other cabin. That's when all the screaming started and a man an woman came running out of the cabin, got in the first car and took off. Then the lady came out of the cabin and walked around to the side of the cabin but in few minutes, she came back and drove off. I hope it will help. Please keep us out of it if you can"

"We will," Molly told Hank. Hank told the young man, "We will," and wondered why the officer had a questioning look on his face. "Your Dad promised to let me know what happens. Maybe neither of us will have to do anything."

Hank drove out of the parking lot the parking lot and made the turn to go home but after he had gone a short distance he decided to turn around.

"I'm sorry, Molly, but I need to know what happened in that cabin. I heard the address so I think I'll go out there and see what I can find out. Jim and Lena will want to know." Hank hoped Molly would understand.

However", he was sure he heard her say, "You don't need to know and neither do they," but this time he ignored her.

The home at 365 Maple Dr. was more like a mansion than a house. Hank had to summon up his nerve to go up and ring the bell. His head started to swirl and he held onto the door frame to keep from falling as he rang the bell and waited.

From inside the house, he heard a female voice yell, "Maisie,where the hell are you? Didn't you hear the doorbell?"

When the door opened, he saw a woman who, he guessed was close to his age but one who had tried to push time back with face lifts, makeup, dyed hair and clothes that were 40 or 50 years too young for her.

"Whadda you want?" She bellowed at him.

"Sorry, ma'm. Maybe I have the wrong house. I was looking for a Mr. Arthur Ashley," Hank told her.

"Well, you won't find him here, ever again." She started to close the door, thought better of it as she opened it wider and asked, "This wouldn't be about that green necklace, would it? The sheriff just called to tell me that someone had turned it in."

"I shouldn't have come, but we found the necklace outside a cabin at a resort I own. My wife told me not to come." Hank apologized as he grabbed the door frame a bit harder.

"You should be ashamed to rent cabins to husbands who need a place to take their lovers," she shouted at him.

"I think you're probably right," Hank told her. He breathed in and felt his strength returning.

"Well, I can tell you Mr. Arthur Wiggins won't be renting any cabins from now on. I knew he had been cheating on me. After 3 other husbands, I know when one of them is cheating. I followed them to your place the other night. When I went in, they were on the porch and he was putting MY necklace around HER neck. I was so mad I just grabbed the necklace and threw it over the porch railing." The woman had screamed all of this without taking a breath.

"Why didn't you go get it before you left?" Hank asked.

The woman had calmed down after her out burst. "I tried," she said, "but there were so many leaves piled up there and it was too dark. I went back the next day but someone had scraped up all the leaves. I thought Arthur had gone back to get it. I was going to wait until he gave it to that woman then report it stolen and tell the police where they might find it."

Hank's only thought was that he would be glad to get rid of the resort. "At least you will have the necklace after you talk to the Sheriff."

The woman cupped her chin in her hand. "No. I think I will tell him that Arthur stole it. Maybe he'll have to go to jail." She laughed as she closed the door.

Hank got in the truck and started it. "I sure wouldn't want to get on HER mad side, Arabella. Let's go home."

As they neared "Hunter's Cabins", Arabella coughed, died and ran off the side of the road.

The door opened and Hank saw Molly as she held out her hand to him. He took it and put his arm around her as they started down the road.

"I'll send the mechanic at the garage to pick her up." Hank said.

"Never mind. Look," Molly told him and pointed to a brand new Arabella sitting on the road ahead of them.

When he looked back, he saw himself draped over the steering wheel of the old truck.

"Come on," Molly told him. "Let's go home." #End

Who's sorry now?

Who's Sorry Now?

Joyce Peterson

Fred looked up at his assistant. "Make sure they're all there when I get back."

"I'll see to it. They'll be there," the man assured him as he turned and started up the path.

Fred looked out at the little lake someone had built among the beautiful plants in the park. He liked to come here when things felt like they were getting out of hand. Like this morning, or was it yesterday:

"Dad, Mom said I had to get your OK so I can go with the gang to the mountains today." His son was a good kid but Fred wasn't sure about the so-called "gang".

"No," he told the boy, "You haven't mowed the lawn or cleaned your room like your Mother told you."

"Daaaad!" Fred hated to hear the pleading in Eddie's voice.

"N…O…NO." Fred was the boss in this house. He didn't owe the kid any explanations.

"You're an old Foagie," His son had shouted at him. He hadn't said "foagie" but Fred didn't want to remember the terrible name his son had called him. He knew his son would be sorry someday when he, himself became a Dad.

He watched the ducks that had taken up residence on the pond. He threw them the few bread crumbs that he had brought with him. The whole flock gathered to share them.

A flock of ducks reminded him of a group of people, his people, his employees who had gathered in a bunch to demand he review salaries and instigate raises across the board.

John Kiley, his oldest employee, and one that Fred had considered a friend, spoke for the group, "Sir, we all think you should be giving out raises. It's been too long…."

Fred held up his hands. "I am sorry but you all know that business is at a standstill, right now." Fred knew that he had spoken a lie but he went on, "Have any of you tried to get other jobs lately?" Fred felt he was the boss and no one was going to tell him when to give raises. When no one answered, he continued, "I thought not, now let's get back to work and forget all this happened."

He was pleased that they all went back to work with no further argument . However, in a few days, he lost some of his key people, even John Kiley. He figured that John had been offered another job earlier, , because he went to work for a competitor within a couple of weeks.

While he was here, there were other things he needed to get out of his memories, like that argument he had with Millie, his wife.

"Fred, I need more house money." Millie had never worked and he had always given her plenty for household expenditures.

"Why?" Fred was sure she spent the house money on frivolous items like new clothes when she didn't need them. He knew she wouldn't put anything she didn't need, on her credit card because she knew he checked the monthly statement.

Millie had come up with a lame excuse. "Have you seen the prices of things lately? I need more and I won't ask you again."

"I'll look into it." He had lied to her. He knew she didn't need any more money and he wasn't about to change his mind . Since then, he wondered if that had anything to do with Millie's leaving him 2 weeks later. He had heard that, after the divorce, she had married John Kiley. He couldn't think of anything those two had in common.

"Let me see, now," he wondered, "There's that argument I had with that neighbor when we first moved into that house on Elm street."

Adam had been raking up the leaves, in his own yard, from his big, old tree when Fred had gone out to ask him about those leaves that fell in their yard. All he had said was, "I hope you're coming over here and rake up your filthy leaves in my yard?"

Adam had taken offense and thrown the rake at Fred, "Rake 'em up, yourself. These trees have been here longer that either of us have been alive."

Fred avoided neighbors in general and Adam in particular. He didn't care if they had never been invited to any of the noisy barbeque parties that Adam had every weekend. He had thought, "One of these days…" But "one of those days" had never happened. Maybe today?

Fred pushed the thought of the neighbor to the background as he thought of the new Secretary he had had to hire. She was impossible. She couldn't even remember his name. She just said , Yes, sir and No, sir to everything and her spelling was terrible even though she had a computer that corrected her. He would enjoy telling her she was fired.

"Sir?" Fred looked up to see his assistant had come back to remind him it was time to go. He gave one last look at the ducks on the pond and promised himself to come again tomorrow.

"It's time, sir." The man turned the wheelchair around and started to push it up the hill.

"Are they all here?." Fred asked.

"Yes, sir, everyone." He answered politely.

"My son?" When the assistant hummed, "Um hum," Fred asked, "What's his name again?"

"Fred, Jr." the man said.

"How about the others, John and Millie, Adam…"

"All present and accounted for, sir." The assistant told him.

"Remind me to fire that new secretary." Fred told him.

"I think you did that on the way out, sir." The white coated attendant said as the door opened to admit them to the rest home.

Fred looked at the people in the reception area. "I can see she's gone." He motioned to an empty desk. "And my guests…did they all say they were sorry?"

"They all said they were sorry and left because they wanted you to go back to bed to get some rest." The attendant pushed the wheelchair down the hall and entered Fred's room. When he had put Fred to bed and tucked in the covers, Fred grabbed his arm.

"If they ever come back, tell them I'll never forgive them. We'll see whose sorry!!" Fred shouted.

The attendant loosened Fred's hand from his white coat sleeve.

"Absolutely, sir," he smiled as he told him, "we'll see whose sorry now."

As She Remembered

AS SHE REMEMBERED

Joyce Peterson

A car pulled up to the curb along the esplanade sidewalk. The engine was left running, while a middle aged woman got out and took a pull-along cart from the back. An elderly woman, got out of the passengers' side and waited on the sidewalk until the cart was placed beside her.

"Thanks for driving me down, honey. I could have walked," the old woman said.

"No problem, Sadie. I was on my way to the grocery when I saw you come out of the house. I'll just put a gold star on my Good Neighbor chart. Looks like it's all yours today," she observed as she motioned to the empty bench that sat in the portioned off square of cement, surrounded by a balustrade, that had been built specifically for it. "It's going to be a good day for doing one of your beach sketches. By the way, how's your grandson getting along?"

"Fine, I guess. We haven't heard from him for a while," she answered as she made her way around the end of the bench.

"I'll tell Angie where I dropped you off." The words came floating over her shoulder as she got back in the car and took off.

Sadie looked after the car as she thought, "Angie and I did ourselves a favor when we bought that little house next to such a good neighbor." Twenty years ago, she and Angie, her daughter, had both lost the men in their lives when Sadie's husband, Frank, had died and, the father of the baby Angie was carrying, had taken off for parts unknown, after she had told him that she was pregnant. The sale of Sadie's house, and the insurance money, had been enough to get them the beach house and enough reserve for Angie to have little Davy, then, time to find a job. Sadie had been Davy's caregiver since the time he was born.

She sat on the end of the bench and pulled the carry-all along side. Taking out her sketch pad, she started on a loose drawing of the people on the beach below her . Her pastels helped her capture the blue-green of the ocean as it broke into white on the shore.

"Why does it change?" she wondered out loud.

"Everything changes. Nothing ever stays the same." The young man in uniform had sat down so quietly that she hadn't realized he was there until she heard the soft words that had been almost a whisper.

Sadie smiled. "I was just talking to myself. I didn't see you sit down. Home on leave?" she asked.

"Something like that," he said. Looking at the sketch, he continued, "You must have a lot of sketches of the beach."

" Yes, and they bring back so many memories but, I guess we both have things to remember. I hope yours are as good as mine." Pointing to a little boy who was trying to get away from a man who was holding his hand, she continued, "I brought my grandson here when he was about six."

"And he ran away from you." The words were uttered softly.

Sadie looked at the young man. He was blond with brown eyes and the uniform looked familiar. "So… do you know my grandson?" She asked. She saw he was a Private, like her grandson

"Yes, yes I do," the soldier answered.

"I assume you are on leave. Will Davy be coming home soon?" She could already feel the happiness she would know when Davy would come up the walk, home on leave. He had volunteered when he graduated from High School. Sadie had heard him tell a friend that by joining up he could save up for college and with help from the government, when his time was up, he could pay his own way. Davy had always been a thoughtful boy. She wished he hadn't been so thoughtful about trying to pay for his college degree. They could have managed without his going away to, who knew what. "Will he be home soon?" She asked again.

"Soon, I think." The young man told her. Pointing to her sketch pad, he said "There must be a lot of memories in there for you."

Sadie looked back at the people on the beach below them. "See those two boys down there? The ones playing catch?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Davy and his friend Billy always did that. One day the ball got away from them and some man caught it and didn't want to give it back. Billy wanted to tell a cop, or somebody, but Davy said he didn't want to cause any trouble. He was that way and now he has put himself in the way of the worst trouble in the world."

"I know." The soldier said, softly

Sadie wished he would speak up more. "We should have kept him from signing up."

"There wasn't anything you could do. He had his reasons." The answer seemed to drift on the air.

"You're right, but I still wish…" She spied a young couple who had put their blanket down among the other bathers. "See that young couple just putting down their blanket?" The soldier was looking to where she pointed. He nodded and smiled as though he knew what was coming. "He had a beautiful girl friend that he left behind. He thinks she will wait for him but I don't know. "

The soldier nodded without agreeing or disagreeing.

"When he gets home on leave, we'll see." Sadie really liked Brittany and had kept her informed about Davy.

"Yes, you'll see." It sounded like a promise as the soldier said it.

Sadie watched the young couple on the beach before she looked around but the young man had gone. "I was going to tell him to have a good time on his furlough but I'm sure he will."

A car had pulled up to the curb and a young woman got out of the passengers side and was waving at her, "Grandma Sadie, we came to take you home. Your neighbor told us where to find you."

"Brittany?" She asked. "What are you doing here? No classes today?"

"They didn't seem very important today." She said as the driver got out of the car. "We wanted to surprise you."

When Sadie saw who the driver was, she must have looked faint because he came around and put his arms around her. "Davy, it's really you, it's really you!! He said you would be home soon."

"He? Who?" Davy asked.

Sadie hugged him, "Another soldier. He sat on the bench with me and seemed to know a lot about my memories. He knew you, so you must have told him about me. He was about your age, with blond hair and brown eyes."

"Must have been Charlie. We talked a lot about home and the folks we would see when we got here. He said, if he was ever in this area, he would look you up to see if you were as great as I had been telling him." Davy's voice had a sad note to it.

"Nothing to be sad about," Sadie told him. "He kept his promise. He came by."

Davy's smile was also sad as he told her, "I know, Gram, but Charlie was killed by a roadside bomb a week before we were both to come home on furlough."

Truth

TO TELL THE TRUTH

Joyce Peterson

Ruth was meeting her friend, Margery, for lunch to tell her the news. Other people often wondered how they became friends. Ruth was a petite, red head with green eyes that always sparkled as though she were thinking of some funny joke. Margery was tall, with brown hair and blue eyes that seemed always be looking for an answer to one of life's problem. Since they both grew up in this small town that hugged the Pacific Ocean's shore, they had attended the same High School and had both ended up here after college and marriage. That was twenty five years ago. Their children had grown and moved away, but Ruth and Margery still met, once a week, at a restaurant on the pier. Of course the restaurant had changed over the years but not their friendship.

When Ruth saw her friend walking into the small restaurant, she hoped that the frown on Margery's face would disappear when she told her that Sam, Ruth's husband, had a new partner in his accounting business and that Ruth wanted to arrange for him to call her for a date. In fact, she had already given him her friend's cell phone number. Margery had lost her husband five years ago in a boating accident but seemed to be happy living alone and doing charity work, since he had left her reasonably well off. Ruth had tried one other time to make an arrangement for Margery, but that hadn't worked out.

Margery had hardly taken a seat when Ruth smiled and asked her, "Guess what?"

"I know," her friend grumbled, "You want to fix me up with somebody, again."

Ruth remembered trying to do Margery a favor in High School but chose to forget it."What do you mean…again? There was only that once and…"

"Yeah, only once, lately, but looked how that turned out." Margery picked up the menu. "What looks good, today?"

Ruth was determined to wipe the frown off that face. "But you did have a few fun dates before…"

Margery ignored her and scanned the menu as she replied, "…before he found out that my beautiful brown hair was a wig to cover up the straggly gray hair that came in when I lost all my own and had to have the radiation therapy after my cancer operation."

Ruth had gone through all of it with her friend and knew the hurt she was experiencing, not only from the operation and therapy, but being dumped after she had lost the wig on their third date.

"But you're fine now and the wig looks perfectly natural on you," she told her.

"Sure, until your fix-up date for me got too familiar and tried to run his sticky fingers through it. No thanks, sweetie, I think I'll pass." Margery put the menu aside as she said, " How about the the tuna salad today?" She motioned to the waitress who came to take their orders.

Ruth ate silently as she tried to figure out how to get Margery to go out with Alex. Every time she had a plan and started to talk by saying, "Just one date.." Margery shook her head and thought, "Not even one…", or "He's about your sizel.." Margery countered, silently, "He's probably shorter than my 5'7 and have to look up to look me in the eye"… then "..not bad looking.." Margery thought of the last one and laughed out loud, thought, "Horseface" and finally, "…around your age." Margery just shook her head and continued eating.

Ruth was about to give up. However, after she paid the bill and refused any contribution from her friend, she had one final idea. Margery had started out ahead of her but, when she heard her name, turned back. Ruth spoke in a hurry, "Why don't you come to dinner Friday night? I'm having your favorite, Yankee Pot Roast."

Margery wasn't fooled. "Sure, Yankee Pot Roast and your husband's new partner."

Ruth laughed, "You know me too well. I promise I won't have anything sticky for dessert so if he runs his fingers through your hair, your wig won't come off. What do you say?"

They had been friends so long that Margery told her, "OK, just because you're my best friend, a good cook and I do love your Yankee Pot Roast. But it's only for that one night. I mean it."

Ruth smiled. There was a chance. As soon as Margery left to find her own car, Ruth called Sam on her cell phone. When he answered, she told him to invite Alex to dinner on Friday night and hung up so she wouldn't have to explain. Sam didn't like her meddling in other people's lives even if it was for a good cause.

When they left the restaurant, Margery thought, "Only one night. Dinner, that's all." When she got home, her cell phone was ringing. She took it from her purse and sat down on the sofa to talk. When she answered, a man's voice asked, "Is this Margery Davis?"

She didn't recognize the voice and was still unhappy that she had agreed to Ruth's invitation. Her voice reflected her anger with herself as she told him, "Yes, this is Margery Davis and who the hell is this?" She heard a loud laugh on the other end.

"Well, actually I'm more local than I am from Hell and I was hoping to ask you for a date. This is Alex Anderson. I'm Sam Brett's new partner. If this is a bad time, I could call back."

He sounded as if he were smiling, but Margery was still feeling out of sorts and, a little unhappy that Ruth would give her cell phone number to a stranger without asking her. Into the phone she uttered, "How did…"

When he heard the anger in her voice, Alex broke in,"Sam's wife saw how lonesome I was. I moved here just a month ago and I don't know anyone…" He tried to explain.

Margery thought, "Ruth has done it again. She knows I won't refuse." To Alex she said, "I'm sorry. I'm sure you're a very honorable local man, but we will be meeting at the Brett's on Friday night since we'll both be going there for dinner. We can talk about it then."

"Sounds like a plan, see you then," he told her and hung up.

Since Alex was Sam's new partner, Margery was sorry that she had been rude but from the time they had been young, Ruth had always managed to get her into situations where she didn't belong. Like the time in High School when Ruth had asked her to stay overnight then, after she had cleared it with her mother, Ruth had arranged a date for the two of them with boys the neither of their mothers would have approved. She wondered if she herself would approve Ruth's choice this time.

Alex put the phone back in the stand. He had called Margery from the office.. He hadn't been invited to dinner as yet but he saw Sam heading toward his office with a worried expression on his face. When Sam apologized for inviting him to dinner as soon as day after tomorrow, Alex told him he'd be glad to be there. He didn't tell Sam that he had already heard about it, thinking that Sam might have forgotten to tell him earlier. He didn't want to get Sam in trouble with that cute little red-headed wife of his.

When he went home later that day, he looked in the bathroom mirror to assure himself that he might be a reasonably good catch. He stood as tall as he could and told the mirror, "5'9, not dark and handsome, but turning gray and fairly presentable," he observed, as he patted his flat stomach.

Remembering the phone conversation , he thought, "She sounds like someone I would like to know. She certainly has a mind of her own." Not like Evelyn, who wouldn't stand up to her family when they kept insisting she had married a loser. He was fifty before he married, for the first time ,8 years ago. Evelyn was forty and had assured him she loved him, but after seven years, she asked him for a divorce. He thought, for sure, her family had a hand in her divorcing him. He had made a success of his business and, after they married, he was so happy that he had never thought he would be starting over again, not only in the dating game, but in a new business adventure. Thank goodness, his ex-wife had left him with enough money to buy the partnership with Sam. He figured the rest of it went to her family.

The partnership looked like it would be a good one and now…but he would put that thought on hold until after Friday night. He hadn't realized how much he missed having a woman in his life. Even before Evelyn, he had no trouble getting dates with the women with whom he came in touch. He still wondered why he had waited until Evelyn to marry.

Sam left work a little early. He wanted to find out what Ruth was up to, why she had told him to invite Alex to dinner on Friday instead of making it next week. He loved that little redhaired wife of his but she did have a bad habit of meddling in other peoples lives. He didn't want anything to happen to make Alex feel he had made a bad choice by moving to southern California from Chicago to become his partner. He knew that Alex had divorced shortly before the move but Sam hoped Ruth would stay out of his personal life. Sam was a rather chubby man but, because of his width, and being an extra inch or two taller than average, the weight sat well on him. He had a good sense of humor which he needed to call on , often, with a wife like Ruth. His hazel eyes twinkled at the thought of her antics.

On the way home, he tried to plan what he would say to her, not that anything would change Ruth. "Maybe that's why I love her," he thought, as he smiled to himself.

When he got in the house, he went to the kitchen to find her. She was stirring something on the stove but didn't look around when he put his arms around her and kissed the back of her neck..

"OK, what are you doing this time?" He asked.

When she looked at him, she gave him that big eyed stare that seemed to be her trademark for explaining anything. "What on earth do you mean?" She asked innocently.

"You know what I mean. What's the idea of asking Alex to dinner day after tomorrow instead of inviting him for next week when he might have time to think about it?" Sam told her.

"Oh, that," she said. "Well…" Sam knew she would have an explanation with, perhaps, the semblance of the truth but not all of it. She cleared her throat and continued, "You knew I was going to have lunch with Margery, today."

Sam hummed, "Um huh," and nodded his head. "And…" he encouraged her.

Ruth was up to the challenge. She turned and kissed him as she said, "Well, I happened to mention that I was planning to have Yankee Pot Roast on Friday night and Margery practically asked me to invite her. You know how much… she… likes …my…" She slowed up when she saw the look on his face.

Sam began to see through the plan, "…Pot Roast." He concluded for her. "I see, and of course you immediately thought that Alex would make a good partner for her." When Ruth shook her head, he added "…so I had to make an ass of myself and ask Alex to come for dinner on Friday. How many times have I asked you to not meddle in other people's lives?"

"At least a hundred, smart ass. But who knows? It might work out fine." Ruth kissed him and turned back to the stove.

Friday afternoon, Margery couldn't understand why she was actually looking forward to meeting Sam's new partner. Nothing could come of it, but she decided to wear the brown pant suit, that someone had told her was beautiful on her, and, of course the blue silk blouse that matched her eyes. "Flats," she thought as she scanned her shoe rack. "Just in case he's my size or less.

Thursday , on his lunch hour, Alex had found one of the few men's specialty shops in the area and purchased a new gray sports coat. Evelyn had bought his clothes for the last few years of their marriage and after their break up, he had purchased whatever he could find in his size at the local men's shop near his apartment. Thursday, the salesman pointed out that the style of the gray jacket was just right for him and, of course, he had a pair of black trousers that were made to go with it. Alex had never been one to fall for a salesman's pitch but he tended to agree with one this time.

Friday, Sam left work early. He stuck his head into the door of Alex office. "Hope you haven't forgot about dinner tonight?" Ruth had told him to do that or he wouldn't have.

"Be there with bells on," Alex told him and hated himself for coming up with such a trite expression.

Ruth was so busy she hadn't heard Sam's car come in the driveway. She looked at the roast once again and took the temperature. The vegetables were ready to start so that everything could be served at just the right time. When she looked at the dainty, stemmed glassware, that held the pudding dessert that would be eaten with the small dessert spoons, she laughed when she remembered what she had told Margery about having a dessert that wouldn't leave Alex with sticky hands.

Sam had come through the dining room on his way to the kitchen, "What's so funny and why have you got the dining room table set up like that?" Ruth jumped when she heard him. "Guilty conscience again?" He asked.

"I didn't hear you come in," Ruth told him. "I was just thinking about the dessert, "she said and continued without explaining. "Oh, you mean why I have the table set so you and I sit at the ends and Margery and Alex have to sit on one side, together. I thought it would be a nice arrangement."

Sam didn't ask for any further explanation. He knew it would be no better.

At seven o'clock, exactly, the doorbell rang. When Sam opened the door, Alex stood there and Margery was just getting out of her car in front of a neighbor's house. The men waited for her to join them.

Looking from one to the other, Sam asked, "Did you two come together?"

Alex had been studying Margery as she came up to them. He answered, "No, but I wish I had been so lucky."

Margery heard him and felt the ice breaking. "Thank you. You deserve that good Yankee Pot Roast meal we're having," she told him and saw a grin on his face. She thought, "Maybe I should thank Ruth. I'll see…later." To Alex she explained, "I'm Margery, Ruth's friend." She held out her hand to him and could feel the warmth and strength in his as he took it.

Sam intervened, "Sorry you two, I didn't mind my manners. "Margery, this is Alex Anderson, my new partner. Alex, Margery has already told you who she is. Now that that is over we better…"

Ruth, who had come to the door to see what was taking so long, interrupted him, "Sam don't keep them standing out here. bring them in. There are cocktails on the serving table in the living room."

As she started to go, Alex held out a package, "Here, this is for later. It's a dessert wine."

Ruth took it and thanked him. "Just so it isn't sticky," she told him as Sam and Alex both gave her a questioning look and Margery tried not to laugh.

When they got to the dining room, Ruth seated Margery and Alex together at one side of the table. "I thought the view would be better for you two, on this side." They looked up to see the big mirror on the wall opposite them.

"Sorry," Sam tried to apologize.

"Looks good to me," Alex said as he turned to Margery "How about you?" All she could do was nod and try not to laugh at Ruth's maneuvering.

The Yankee Pot Roast was savored and bragged about for the first part of the meal, but when it was time for dessert, Ruth asked Sam if he would get it. She had started on a list of places she thought that the two guests would like to go. Since Alex was new to the area, she kept telling Margery that "Perhaps Alex would like to see this place, or that place, or the other place…"

When Sam came in with the dessert, Ruth passed them out. Aas she did, she warned them, "Be careful with those small spoons. If you get pudding on your fingers, they might get sticky."

Margery, joining in the fun, looked at Alex as she said, "I'm sure you would never do a thing like that."

Sam almost spit out his first bite as he exclaimed, "What's with this sticky bit?"

Ruth gave him that wide-eyed look, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Margery laughed as she said, "It's just something between Ruth and me. Only girl talk. Ruth, this dessert is delicious."

Alex saw a diversion was needed as he agreed with Margery about the dessert then, guided the conversation back to Ruth's list of places he should see. They all stopped to eat and when they were finished, Alex won points with Margery as he helped the two women clear the table and take all the dishes to the kitchen.

When they were finished, Ruth asked Sam to open the dessert wine gift and bring all of them a glass to the living room so they could talk.

When they were all seated in the living room, had sampled the wine and made the appropriate comments about its taste, Ruth started on her "places to go" list, again. Margery had about all she could stand, besides, wine had always made her a little giddy.

Alex, sitting next to her on the couch, had received so many good points from her during the meal that she, honestly, would have looked forward to going out with him. He was smart, handsome and was even a few inches taller but she knew what would happen, eventually, so, might as well let him know now.

"Alex, to tell the truth, I think we would enjoy seeing those places together, but when I think of the rides, I can only imagine what might happen…"

"Margery, NO," Ruth said as she saw her friend reach for her wig.

However, Margery was not deterred, as she explained, "Last year I had a cancer operation and had to have Radiation Therapy. This is what happened." She pulled off her wig to show the gray hair that was starting to cover her head. She expected everything except what happened.

Alex was laughing as he pulled her to him and kissed her. "I like honesty in a woman," he said, "I hope you like honesty in a man." He pulled off his toupee. "I've been bald since I was thirty. They do a good job on these things," he told her, "I don't see any reason why we shouldn't take advantage of them," he said as he helped her put hers on and put his own back.

Margery thought there was only one thing she could do to show she agreed with him. She put her arms around him and gave him back his kiss, with interest.

Across the room, Ruth clapped. "See, Sam. It worked out. They're a matched set!"

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Joyce Peterson

Beth put the casserole in the oven, then pulled the letter from a pocket in her jeans. She wish she could throw it away, instead, she opened it to read it for the fifth time since she took it from the mailbox earlier in the afternoon. It was almost time for her husband to come home. She hoped Sue Ellen wouldn't get home before he did. It would give them a little time to discuss it, to decide what to do. Her daughter had asked to go to a friend's house after school and she had given permission since the friend lived just two doors down the street.

She didn't realize that Chuck had come in the back door until she felt him kiss her on the cheek. "Must be some letter you've got there."

She jumped back. "I didn't hear you come in," she said as she handed him the letter. "It's a letter I never wanted to get."

He gave a soft whistle as he finished it. "Well, you know we've got to tell her now. It's something we should have done before she got to be nine years old." He handed the letter back to her.

As she put it in the envelope and stuffed it back in her pocket, she told him, "I know, you've been telling me that for a long time. I knew we would have to tell her some day, I just always hoped it wouldn't be THAT day…today.." she corrected herself. "I'll have to send an answer…"

Chuck had put his arms around her. "You can do that tomorrow. Let's talk to her after dinner. Let's see what Sue Ellen thinks. Maybe we should take a vote," he laughed.

Their daughter came in just as he finished talking. "What are we going to vote on?"

Chuck answered, "Why don't we have dinner first, then we can go to the living room and settle down and see what it is we will be voting on."

Sue Ellen hugged him. "I vote yes on that, " she told him. "I'm hungry. Smells like we're having my favorite tuna casserole." She looked at the table. "It's all set. I thought that was my job."

Beth tried to smile but was sure her lips weren't cooperating. "I had time and I thought we might want to talk about that vote we will be taking." She motioned for them to sit.

It was so quiet during dinner that Sue Ellen looked at them and asked, "What is it? Did somebody die? Was it Aunt Clara? I knew she was sick."

Beth and Chuck both laughed. "No. Aunt Clara is fine. Now finish your dessert so we can put the dishes in the dish washer and go to the "Voting Room"."

The girl scraped the last bit of pudding from her dessert bowl and swallowed it as she talked. "Maybe when we're talking you could answer something for me." When they both nodded, she asked, "Who do I look like?"

Both Beth and Chuck practically choked on their pudding. Chuck told her, "We'll talk about that when we get to the living room? "

"OK," she answered as she started taking the dishes to the sink. She had really been an easy child to raise.

When they were finally settled in the living room, Chuck took his usual big tilt back chair and Beth sat on the couch with her arm around Sue Ellen.

Beth was not surprised when her daughter moved away and said, "OK, you guys, this is about me, isn't it?" Sue Ellen had always been a smart child. "Have I done something wrong?"

Beth and Chuck both assured her that she had done nothing wrong. He nodded to Beth, telling her to take over but it was hard to know where to start. She guessed the beginning would be the best place.

Since all this had happened in Cincinnati before they moved to Arizona, Beth hadn't anticipated the questions to start so soon, not that nine years was soon, she had just hoped that they would never start. She knew she would probably have to explain someday but she had always hoped it would be some tomorrow, not today.

"No, sweetheart, you haven't done anything wrong" Beth answered carefully as she took Sue Ellen's hand in hers. She was only nine but she would recognize a lie. Beth suddenly realized that the girl had given her a place to start. "Why do you want to know who you look like?" she asked.

"Some of my friends were saying that people told them they looked like their Mom or their Dad. I just wondered who I look like. I have red hair and blue eyes. You and Dad both have brown hair and brown eyes so I wondered who I look like." The child was just inquisitive but Beth felt trapped by the question.

Just yesterday they had got a letter from the birth mother who, after all these years, wanted to meet her daughter. How could she not let that happen? It would be totally unfair to Sue Ellen to cut her off from any contact with the woman, but how to tell the child now? She was smart but could she possibly understand?

She put her arm around Sue Ellen and pulled her close. "Maybe it's time we talked about all this. If I say something you don't understand, tell me and I'll try to explain. OK?"

"OK?" Sue Ellen sounded like she was unsure of to what she was agreeing.

Beth felt like the first time she had when she jumped into the water holding her nose because she didn't know how to swim. She tried to steady her voice as she said. "You know that, before you were born, Dad and I lived in Cincinnati." When the girl nodded, Beth knew she had to tell her the rest, but how? "We had a baby that…didn't live…"

"You mean before me?" Sue Ellen asked.

Beth felt like walls were closing in on her. "More like about the same time."

They had had the "baby talk" more than a year ago so she wasn't surprised at the child's reaction when she said, "I didn't know you could do that."

This smart daughter was not going to make it easy for Beth. "Let me explain a little more before you ask any more questions. You see, when our baby died we found someone who knew about another lady who had had a baby that she would not be able to take care of. The baby was you and we were very lucky to find a baby that needed us as much as we needed her."

There was a long pause as Sue Ellen seemed to be absorbing what she had just heard. "So, I'm adopted?" Both Beth and Chuck nodded, vigorously. " There's a girl in my class at school that was adopted. She said that her mother loved her more than our mothers loved us because she was chosen and her mother didn't have to take whatever she got, like our mothers." She paused before asking, "Why didn't my other mother want me?" She waited for a answer.

Beth had told her to ask questions but, since she hadn't planned on answers, it took her a while to reply. "I'm sure she did, sweetheart, and I'm sure that giving you up was the hardest thing she ever did. From now on, let's call her your Birth Mother."

"OK, Mom. That will make you my real Mother. What about my Birth Father? Didn't he want me?"

Beth had to rely on the truth. "We didn't hear about him. Maybe he didn't know about you?"

"I guess I'm lucky to have Dad for my real Father. But I wonder what she looks like, my Birth Mother, I mean. Am I like her?"

Beth tried to remember the brief encounter they had had with the woman that gave birth to their daughter. She had been surprised that it was a woman and not a young girl."It was a long time ago but I remember that she did have red hair."

Beth pulled the letter from her pocket. "I got this letter a few days ago. She lives in Phoenix, now, and would like to visit. I think we should decide, together, if you want her to come. Do you?"

Sue Ellen pondered the question for a while before she answered. "Why not, unless you think we shouldn't." Looking up at her mother with big, blue eyes, she added, "I vote yes. What do you think?" Voting had been the thing to do, in the family, when something related to all of them.

Beth held her breath for a second before she whispered, "I vote "Yes". She put the letter back in her pocket and crunched it in her hand.

Sue Ellen looked at her father. "What about you, Dad?"

Chuck stood up. "I've always loved that name…DAD," he said, "Of course, I vote yes."

The child nodded, toward the pocket into which Beth had stuffed the letter, as she asked, "Will you let her know or do you want me to write to her? I'm not very good at letter writing."

Beth smiled as she told her, "I think that would be my job since she wrote to me."

The girl sounded relieved as she said, "Great. Let me know what happens," and left the room.

Beth couldn't believe that it was over. She had told Sue Ellen the truth and didn't feel like she had hurt her in the way it had been done. She hoped the child wasn't hiding some unexpressed feelings. They had always been able to talk things over but she decided to listen for anything that might change in their relationship, even in a small way.

That night, when they were alone in their bedroom talking it over, Chuck laughed when he told her, "When she said 'Why not...',it sure sounded like something you'd say. Maybe she'll be like you whether you were her birth mother or not," he told her.

Beth smiled. "I'll try to let her see just the good parts," she promised.

The next day Beth answered the letter, telling the woman that she would be welcome but to let her know when she would be coming. However, after a month, when she had not heard any further, she thought the woman had given up the idea, but she had been wrong.

She was weeding in the front yard when an old model car pulled up in font of the house and a woman got out of the driver's side and came around the front of the car. Coming up the walk, she asked, "Mrs.Moore?"

Beth knew it was her, the hair was still red but brighter than she remembered and she was at least fifty pounds heavier. "I'm Beth Moore and you are…?" She asked.

"You won't remember me. I wrote you a letter a while ago…Liz Desmont."

Beth had a hard time trying to sound polite. "I remember. I asked you to let me know when you would be coming."

The woman sounded like she was on the verge of tears as she answered, "I know. But I had to get up the nerve and I had to come without my husband knowing. I had to come when I could…?"

Beth began to feel sorry for her, "I see," she said, "your husband didn't know?"

"He knew when I had her because he's the one who didn't want children, that's why I gave her up. I told him a few times I wanted to try to find her, he wouldn't let me. But I had a detective look for her. I was glad to find out she was in this little Arizona town, not too far from Phoenix. We moved there about five years ago." Liz was near enough to Beth that the alcohol on her breath became an unwelcome perfume in the air.

Beth was doing her best to make this meeting a good one but found it almost too hard. She stood up and brushed herself off. Holding her hand out to the woman, "It's… unusual to meet again." Beth couldn't make herself say 'good to meet you', there wasn't anything good about it. "Let's go in the house. Sue Ellen will be home from school soon." She led the way up the walk.

"Sue Ellen, what a lovely name." Liz followed her through the door and sat in the armchair to which Beth motioned.

Beth wondered if she could get the woman to drink some coffee. Maybe that would disguise the alcohol smell a little. "How about a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot," she lied, she'd have to make it.

"Sure. That would be great," Liz told her.

Beth was in the kitchen, trying to get a pot of coffee started, when Sue Ellen came in the back door, "Hi, Mom. You got company? I saw a car out front."

Beth felt a trap closing in on her. "She's here," she mumbled, "the letter…" she tried to explain.

Her daughter whispered, "My birth mother? Should I go in?"

Beth nodded, "Tell her I'm getting the coffee ready."

Sue Ellen walked through the living room doorway and looked at the woman who was smoking a cigarette. "Hi, I'm Sue Ellen. My mother doesn't like anyone to smoke in here."

The woman looked around. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. Could you get me an ashtray? I don't see any."

The girl found something that would serve as an ashtray and handed it to Liz. "That's OK. You'll know the next time you come."

Liz was studying the beautiful child before her. "Sue Ellen…I'm…I'm…"

"I know, you're my birth mother." She sniffed the air. " Is that some kind of perfume you're wearing? It smells like what Uncle Danny says is his shaving lotion?" Beth was in the kitchen but had been listening to what was going on in the living room. She had to smother a laugh. Danny was Chuck's imbibing brother.

Liz sniffed the air, too. "I don't smell anything, maybe I'm just used to it. You look like you have a good life here, Sue Ellen."

"I always have had. Mom and Dad are the best. Mom's a good cook but she watches what I eat so I stay healthy," she looked at the heavyset woman in the chair, "and don't put on too much weight."

Beth was coming through the door with a tray of coffee and cookies. She couldn't hold back back the laugh but let it come out as a tight lipped, "Pppppp". "Sorry."

"I understand," Liz said. "Maybe I should get your recipes." Beth was glad she seemed to have a sense of humor. She would need it, living with a husband like the one she had described.

The rest of the afternoon went so fast that Chuck walked in the door before they realized what time it was. "I see we have company," he announced.

Sue Ellen was the first to jump up. She ran to him, "Dad, you'll never guess who this is." She took him over to Liz. "This is my birth Mother."

"I can see a little resemblance," he told her.

"Oh, the hair. She's going to get some of Mom's recipes so she can lose some weight and she's decided she doesn't like that perfume that smells like Uncle Danny's after shave lotion. She doesn't live too far away but she won't visit too often because her husband won't come with her…"

Beth held up her hand. "Honey, let's leave some of our afternoon talk so we can discuss it over dinner. You're welcome to stay and eat with us," she told Liz.

"No, I have to go. I should have gone before this. He doesn't like for me to be out this late." Liz gathered her purse to her and stood up. Looking at Beth, she said in a small voice, "Thank you for letting me come."

Beth and Chuck both shook hands with her. She looked like she wanted to hug Sue Ellen but the girl extended her hand to her, too. "It was good to meet you," she told her.

When the car had pulled away, Sue Ellen announced, "It WAS good to know who she is, but, Mom, I hope I grow up to be just like you."

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