Bobby's Diner

by Wingate, Susan

  “Thank you all for such a wonderful moment.” The clapping died down and she spoke sincerely. “First, I’d like to say how I wish someone else could be up here with me today. It’s times like this, when something wonderful happens to you, that you want to surround yourself with loved ones, the people who accept you no matter what.”

  Then, she paused and I could hear the crowd whispering his name Bobby.

  She started up again after a fairly decent moment of anticipation. “So, I’m going to ask someone to join me and my mother. Someone who has been so very important in my life, for better and for worse… someone who is like a sister to me… who I owe my life to…”

  She was staring into my wet eyes and I could see tears well up in hers all the way up there. “Georgie, will you come be with me too?” I couldn’t handle it. I just busted out crying like a little girl but I ran up to be with her, my friend, my sister. She hugged me and whispered

  ‘thank you’ in my ear. Vanessa and I stood together behind her with Helen at my other side. Roberta leaned into the microphone once more and said, “Thank you. If I’m elected…”

  The crowd answered back “When!”

  “When I’m elected,” She returned the positive statement, “I’ll make you proud. Thank you all so very much.” She stepped back and bowed then Helen grabbed her hand and held it high over her head. Roberta waved and blew kisses at everyone.

  It was a glorious day.

  CHAPTER 33

  Well, as you might guess Roberta was elected Mayor of Sunnydale that fall. We celebrated with red, white, and blue streamers and hats and those silly noisemakers that roll out into a colorful air-filled paper when you blow. Mr. Hanker’s high school marching band played up and down the streets of Sunnydale, we drank champagne and danced in the street. The mood was hopeful and joyous. Everywhere Roberta went, she locked my arm in hers to join her. We’d scoop up Vanessa and the three of us paraded around like Winkin’ Blinkin’ and Nod. The only thing missing was a rub-a-dub-tub to float around in (and the water in which to float, of course).

  Vanessa turned to me at one point. She said, “I wish Helen were here to see this.”

  Helen left late that summer—a good time to leave the hot Arizona desert. She called a few times after she’d reached Seattle. She found a house boat on Lake Washington and was enjoying the cool sea air blow through her. She even went as far as to get a pet, a boat cat. She called her SeaBreeze.

  Helen was writing the way she’d always hoped and she was becoming active with the local theatre too, writing plays and fiction. Her calls dwindled to once every couple of weeks, then once a month, finally they altogether stopped shortly after Roberta’s election in November. Helen did call to congratulate her on her new career.

  Roberta’s first act as mayor was to set aside the land that surrounds Sunnydale in order to purchase it with the money from the trust fund setup by Helen. She called the purchase the Helen Pyle Land Purchase in honor of Helen.

  ***

  After the election came the blur of Thanksgiving and Christmas and we were looking toward a bright new year. Zach Pinzer and Tweeter were indicted in the murder of José and Harold and sent away to serve life sentences.

  The diner had a renewed surge of old-time customers of the times when Bobby and Vanessa were married. Vanessa would introduce me to them as one of her very best friends. And, Sunnydale finally started to feel like home. That is, until she told me about her cancer. Then, Sunnydale started to feel like family.

  Vanessa had gone back to Flagstaff this time accompanied by me. As they rolled her along in a wheelchair they had her in one of those insulting pieces of cloth they hand to patients and call them “robes.” She looked pale. It was then I realized how sick she was.

  “I haven’t told Roberta yet, Georgie. I don’t want to ruin it for her.”

  “You can’t hide this from your own daughter, Van. You have to tell her.”

  “Well, when I decide to, will you be there with me. I don’t think I could handle telling her alone, Georgie. I’d crumble.”

  “I’d be honored.” She grabbed my hand in hers and kissed my knuckles.

  “Hey! I have to pee.” I ran out because I didn’t want her to see me cry. She needed strong people around her through all this, not some sniveling weepy thing. When I came back into her room the nurses were there marking up her breasts with a black Sharpy™. The radiation treatment only lasted a few minutes but the laser and its effect subsequently burnt her skin, raw.

  When we got back to Sunnydale I helped her get comfortable and sat with her for a bit before heading home. She told me to come by her house tomorrow lunchtime and she’d have Roberta meet us there so she could tell her. I agreed.

  Roberta was beside herself with worry. But, the three of us held tight and promised no matter what we’d stick together and make sure this thing, this cancer didn’t win out. She’d beat it once she could beat it again.

  People tend to say things like that, you know, when they’re faced with danger, more importantly when they’re faced with fear and when around others. When we’re alone the panic and worry overcome a person. It’s only after we face the awful truth together, after the hours of consolation, do we really experience the terror laid before us. That night, after going our separate ways, I had a deep sense we were all crying in unison about that same fear we’d only moments before stood strongly against collectively.

  ***

  Vanessa made it through another year and holiday season. By then, it was Thanksgiving Day. For this holiday, we all celebrated at Roberta’s house. It was around three in the afternoon. I wore a cool flowing dress so I could fill up on all Roberta’s fine cooking. Vanessa looked like a hippy in a moo-moo with her head wrapped elegantly in a scarf to hide her patchy hair. Rick unexpectedly showed up at her doorstep with roses and chocolates. Roberta told him to go away after she took the flowers and cookies and shut the door in his dumbfounded face. That’s how she described the scene anyway. You could hear him from inside the house when he hollered,

  “I’ll be back tomorrow then.”

  “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t the kindliest of welcomes I’d ever heard. Me and Vanessa chuckled in the other room as we eavesdropped at the dining room table.

  “I brought you a Thanksgiving gift. I know how much you love Thanksgiving, Rob.” His voice sounded sweet and familiar.

  Their divorce had been finalized the year before.

  “Well, my family and I are having dinner. It wasn’t right for you to just drop in.” She was killing us. Van and I were sniggering like teenagers in the background. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But, I’ve been thinking about things, about us, you.”

  “Rick, really, I don’t have time today. I have guests. Come back some other time.” She’d opened the door, literally and figuratively, for another visit from him.

  Roberta was in shock by his surprise appearance, but recovered quickly after trying out one of the truffles.

  She arranged the roses on our Thanksgiving table. “Well, that’s just lovely, isn’t it?” She looked at us and we couldn’t help but bust out from the entire episode.

  “Shut up!” Roberta’s smile veiled her true emotions. She was giddy.

  Then, we all sat down, just the three of us, together, for the last time.

  Vanessa didn’t even make it to the end of the year. We all spent Christmas bedside at the hospital watching instruments pulse and ding and monitoring heart rate and pressure, watching Van go in and out of consciousness, watching her wince in pain, see her thin skin receive yet another injection - another catheter - another line of fluids, morphine, blood.

  She said she couldn’t do it anymore, she said she was sorry but she wanted to die. So, she refused treatment. Vanessa wanted me and Roberta to take her home where she could die, happy. She wanted no more interruptions from nurses, orderlies, and doctors— strangers. She only wanted her family around. That’s what she told the doctor. She built up enough strength and
we moved her into a wheelchair, got her into the car, drove her home, and got her comfortable.

  She apologized to me. To me! For her treatment after she and Bobby divorced, up till not so long ago. I told her, “Don’t Do This.” I actually said that to her. You see from my point of view I should’ve been apologizing to her. But, then she said something that I couldn’t refute. Vanessa had asked to talk with me alone and excused Roberta from the bedroom.

  “Georgie, if you hadn’t come into town those many, many years ago and… stolen my husband away from me…” She tried a weak Groucho impression and chuckled as she joked. “None of this would’ve happened.” She made a low but sweeping gesture with her arm and continued to speak even though she was growing short of breath, “the you and me, then you and Roberta—you saved her life, Georgie—I’m not sure it would’ve played out the same way if it were any different, you see? I’ll never forget it. You saved the most important person in my life. And, I love you for it. You need to understand this more than anything. Yes, I had my anger issues about Bobby but that all peeled away in a flash the night Roberta got shot. You saved my baby, Georgie. Don’t you ever forget how important you are to me, okay? Don’t you ever doubt how much I love you, the here and now of it, okay?”

  Her whispering voice sounded ministerial and profound. Words were lost for me.

  “I want you to know something I’ve been keeping from you. You’ll be angry. You will be. But, after I tell you I hope you do the right thing by everyone concerned.”

  Vanessa piqued my curiosity. I couldn’t imagine what she was going to tell me at this point. I wiped my nose with my hanky and looked at her wondering what next she would tell.

  “Look, Bob was a loner more than you’ll ever know now. He needed moments to himself.” She paused to take a few deep breaths and then whispered the rest. “We don’t have much time. Helen and Bob were close. Closer than you’ll understand. They were like soul mates. I never understood either, until later.” She breathed in and collected her strength. “Open that drawer there and hand me the letter with the initials H.M.W. on it.” I must have been sitting there blankly when she said, “Do it, Georgie, I don’t have this kind of time.” The letter was right on top of a stack of notepads. “Open it.” She grabbed my hand when I started to. “Not now, after. Now you go get my girl. I need to talk to her.”

  “No, Van, not yet. Please.” My sorrow felt like a mountain in my chest. I put my head on her hand, the one resting on the bed that I held tight.

  “Come on now. Go. I need to talk to her. Now.” My head shook yes but my body lingered then weakly moved, stood and I walked out to send in Roberta.

  Seven minutes passed from the time I left to the time Roberta emerged.

  My body was tucked, my head buried in my knees.

  The letter was by my chair on the floor. But, when I looked up I realized she’d left the door open. Her movement was lethargic, unsure. Her face turned white.

  Roberta said nothing. I didn’t have to ask. She leaned against the wall of Vanessa’s bedroom and covered her face.

  CHAPTER 34

  You know how you replay in your mind something you don’t want to forget? That’s what I do. But, I parcel it out in slivers. I’m sure I’ve left out so much of this story. Some of the painful memories come when I least expect them and when they do, it seems I’ve been given some cosmic permission to talk about it, think about it allowing me in steps to recall at first the most tranquil memories. Someday all the memories will reveal themselves. And, when that day comes will it allow me to forget? Oh, I certainly hope not. But, the mind is funny.

  My mind settles every now and again on Helen, on the letter. In it the writer refers to a past profession of love.

  Dear Helen,

  The time we’ve spent together is precious to me. I appreciate your words, you write like

  an angel. Please don’t hate me, but I had to burn your note to me. When you expressed your feelings the other night I reacted the way any man would who was approached by such a remarkable woman as you, Helen.

  But, we cannot continue.

  I dearly love my wife. She’s the most important thing in the world to me. And, even though we didn’t take things as far as we could have, I wanted to. But, not for the reasons you might hope—for purely physical reasons, Helen. And, you know as well as me, that’s not fair to you and it’s most definitely not fair to Georgie.

  To hear you express your love, well, your words fell over me like diamonds falling from a golden sky. Thank you. Thank you for feeling the way you feel about me. But, I can’t return the favor. I don’t know what else to say.

  Your true friend, Bob.

  Was I angry? Hell, yes, I was angry. I felt duped. I felt like Helen was a fake. All those times we’d spent together—sharing, talking, laughing—they all meant nothing anymore. So, I wrote my own letter. All the anger I felt, from the start to the end, was expressed in that letter. How when I first arrived no one could find the courtesy in their hearts to forgive me for taking Bobby away from Vanessa, how they refused to even talk to me, how they shunned me.

  Well, Bobby left her. I never asked him to leave. Never.

  I never expected him to come by the motel that night. He just appeared and I welcomed him in. I’ll never be sorry. Vanessa didn’t know and Roberta won’t ever hear it from my lips. One thing I learned from my momma was this: I never wanted to be like her, her and all those men. So, when Bobby came over we talked for a good long time. I told him what he was doing was wrong. I told him he should go back to his wife and try harder. I told him he had a family who depended on him.

  But, he wouldn’t hear it. He said the moment he saw me, he knew. He said he knew we would be in love. He didn’t really have to talk anymore because the second I let him in my room I’d fallen in love with the man. I’d never felt anything so comfortable. I felt safe with him like toeing into a deep bath tub full of bubbles and sinking under for its protection. And, he was so handsome! Handsome and he had this rumbling deep voice that reverberated in my chest. He was right. How he could tell I’ll never know but I had fallen in love with him that night.

  He had to talk me into the whole idea. I wasn’t about to crumble like shortcake. He had to promise me I wasn’t some fly-by-night fuck and then good-bye. No sir. I even threatened him. Told him if we were going to proceed with our relationship it wasn’t going to be some sleazy affair on the side. I told him if we were to make love to consider it a contract. I told him I’d scream to the mountain tops if he woke up the next morning and figured he had made a mistake. He stayed with me until four in the morning. We only talked. When he went back to Vanessa’s he told her he was leaving. Later that morning he brought his belongings and moved into the motel room with me.

  But, after reading the letter Bobby wrote to Helen, I felt unwilling to forgive her. My response, from my enlightened view point, was to be mailed to her the following day. Shock is a funny thing. It wears off. And, when it does it leaves you open to many ideas. It’s like waking and pulling off the covers in the morning. So, after sleeping on it I wrote another one—one that described my surprise and hurt, but one that also described my forgiveness.

  People have so many stories in them. Some so beautiful and filled with longing and hope you want to hear it repeated over and over. Many stories no one would ever want to hear, let alone tell. It makes me wonder about Helen’s stories.

  I wonder what the story is like for Roberta, too. What she tells Rick. She called the other morning and told me they were considering the possibility of adoption. They want a baby. Maybe it wasn’t necessary but I gave her my blessing. I think Vanessa allowed me that right. She probably giggled from above at my courage. Anyway, I’ve kind of grown on Roberta... like moss!

  So, here I am now in one of the most desolate parts of the country. Dry, dry Arizona. And, I’ve found myself a well, an oasis, a lifeline—my only true family where I buried my husband and then, my sister.

  You know one d
ay I was pulling weeds in the garden and flipping them outside the fence. The gate was open. I didn’t hear or see anything around me I was in a weed- pulling zone. Anyway, this young deer had wandered down from the hills, probably a good mile off their migration path, that’s what they normally did, stay away like that. But, this one was different. She made her way in through the open gate.

  My thoughts were elsewhere, I wasn’t paying any attention to anything when I felt this breath close to my back as I yanked out a dandelion. It wasn’t so long since Bobby had died, I said, “Bobby?” I still missed him very much and the garden always made me think of him. We loved that garden and it still showed. Maybe the doe’s instinct sensed it was shelter.

  Anyway, she came up on me while I was kneeling. When I felt her breath I straightened my back when I realized that, of course, it wasn’t Bobby behind me. It wasn’t anything human. I turned very very slowly. She was so scrawny. She didn’t have antlers so I assumed it was a female. And, upon further inspection, if you know what I mean, saw I was correct in my summation. She puffed out a little blast of air again and walked cautiously around toward my hand holding the dandelion. I didn’t move—didn’t utter a sound. In fact, I think I was holding my breath.

  She lifted her head maybe in our recognition of each other then almost pointed to the dandelion with her wet snout. She looked awfully thin and so delicate. She looked hungry.

  “Do you want this?” The words I uttered were barely audible even for me to hear. When I asked her… she didn’t answer, of course, but instead put her head low like she understood, you know? I raised my hand slowly so I wouldn’t startle her. She approached tentatively, carefully, keeping her entire body—everything but her head—a safe distance from me. Her snout felt warm and wet against my palm as she nibbled right from my hand. I felt like God was blessing me for something. I didn’t know what. He’d forgiven me for all of my sins right then and there. That’s how it felt. Amazing. It was something else.