Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts

by Olivia Gaines

  SANDRA WAS HAPPIER than a pig in slop on a hot July day in Laurel, Mississippi rolling about to cool off in the mid-day sun. After living a month in a town where people treated her as if she were a Ukrainian Mail Order Bride who moved in to get after the local Baptist Minister, she exhaled with glee as they took a seat by the window in the greasy spoon. She knew exactly what she wanted to eat.

  Mabel greeted them at the table. “Well, bless my soul. I was hoping the two of you would find each other, and lo and behold you did. What can I get you ladies to eat and drink?”

  “Hey, Mabel,” Leta said, “I want a burger, medium well, and a side of coleslaw with a cold soda.”

  “I’ll have the chicken fried chicken over a bed of field greens with tomatoes, cucumbers, and a side of balsamic vinaigrette dressing,” Sandra said with a beaming smile.

  “Yeah, fried chicken salad with the dressing on the side,” Mabel said, waiting on the drink request. Nodding her head which sat perched between meaty shoulders, the lunch lady’s arm meat flapped as she turned on thick ankles to call out the order. “Your orders will be up soon.”

  “Thank you,” Leta said, eyeballing her companion. She had questions, but a friend was a friend and at the current juncture in her life she was all out of gal pals. Sandra was it. A soft smile formed at the corners of her lips. “Sandra, may I inquire as to what you hope to get out of this friendship?”

  “Me?” Sandra asked, looking around as if Leta had posed the question to someone else. “Heck, I want a friend. If I have to spend one more Friday night on the couch scanning through the Netflix menu trying to find something to watch, I will physically hurt myself. What about you?”

  Leta looked up to see Mabel returning with her soda and glass of iced tea for Sandra, although she hadn’t asked for it. “Thank you, Mabel,” she replied, watching the wide butt woman walk away. “I don’t know, Sandra. My hopes are to start over and build a new world where I am for once given options and choices versus being stuck. There is no worse feeling that one of being stuck.”

  “Tell me about it,” Sandra said, opening her mouth to add more to the conversation but refraining at the arrival of Jean, Darla, and Marisa. “Just great, here comes the Witches of Meredith.”

  The sappy sweet perfume arrived before the ladies, making Sandra sneeze in protest of the offending scent. Jean was the first to speak, “Well, look at what we have here. Why am I not surprised the two of you found each other? I swear I just don’t know what is happening to our little town.”

  Darla spoke up, “I’m with you Jean. The quality of the residents is going down with each week that passes. Next, they are going to start breeding and try to take over.”

  Leta was about to speak, but neither of the women were prepared for what Sandra had to say in her rebuttal. “I must say, I agree with you ladies. When we moved here, I was really concerned, especially since from my living room window, I have a bird’s eye view of both of your homes,” Sandra added.

  Sandra’s eyes went to Leta. “Girl, I am not the gossiping type, but if I were, you wouldn’t believe the things I see going in and out of that one’s house. I’m surprised her cooter hasn’t filed a worker’s comp claim. There were three servicemen at her house just yesterday.”

  Darla was indignant. “How dare you make such a slanderous accusation?”

  “Sweetie, you should close the curtains when Jimmy’s Heating and Air is blowing hot air up your butt hole. I will say, I was very impressed with the hunky one who did the sexy dance before muff diving on you. Leta, he was number two. I’m also impressed that a woman your age is so flexible. You must do yoga,” Sandra said.

  Jean, angrier than she had a right to be, pushed a gasping Darla out the way. She pointed her finger at Sandra, ready to pounce, but Sandra was prepared for her as well. Jean opened her mouth to shoot out fangs full of venom, and cool as a cucumber laying on a bed of shaved ice, was brought to heel.

  “Oh, come on, Jean let’s not go down this road because I’m sure you’re aware that your bestie is screwing most of the men in town because her husband is screwing yours,” Sandra said to a red-faced Jean. “I tell you what, you leave us be and I stay quiet. You come at us again, and next time, I’m taking pictures. I have a wide-angle lens too and I promise you, I can capture a bead of sweat in between two wet titties flapping up and down in front of pink, damp tounges, right there from my porch. You feel me?”

  Leta seeing that Sandra had the situation handles, she focused instead on what lay ahead for her day. Marisa, who had been quiet, stepped away from the ladies to take a seat at the counter. She ordered lunch as if she hadn’t walked in with Jean and Darla and focused her attention on the menu. Leta sipped at her soda, checking her watch and dreading the meeting with the insurance agents. It was in that same instant that she made up her mind that she was over the whole insurance thing and had an idea for a new business that she and Sandra could start that would allow them both to work from home. Besides, if she were fortunate enough to be carrying a child, then the last thing she needed would be the stress of working with five insurance agents that she didn’t even know.

  She looked up to finally notice that Jean and Darla were no longer at the table but standing outside of the window of the diner, making faces at them like two teenagers. Leta turned her head to look in the opposite direction as if they didn’t exist. They were going to be a problem down the road, but right now, she could not care less about anything those women had to say.

  Sandra took her quietness of thought as a dismissal of the way she handled the women. “I’m sorry, I have just had one too many run-ins with those two witches and never had any backup. If I embarrassed you, my apologies,” she said, lowering her eyes to stare at her fingertips.

  “Oh no, Sandra, my mind was completely somewhere else,” Leta replied. “You said you have a camera? I would love to see some of your photos.”

  “You’re not upset with me?”

  “About putting those two in their place...hmm no, I am not,” Leta said, “But be careful. Those women aren’t very nice and they’re both lonely. Women like that will go out of their way to one up you. In some instances, they will even come for your husband to either get him fired or to take a dick ride to plant a sign that Darla was here.”

  “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Sandra offered.

  “Yeah, I am,” Leta spoke softly, thinking of George her former boyfriend and the string of women who constantly blew up his phone.

  “Leta, speaking of experience, can I ask you a delicate question?” Sandra said, turning red in the face.

  “I don’t know, you seem to be embarrassed at the thought of asking me, you sure you want to go down this road?”

  Sandra’s cheeks burned red. “I have to...I’ve always wanted to know and never had the courage to ask, so I’m going to ask my new best friend what I’ve always wanted to know.”

  Leta held her breath thinking the friendship was going to end before it got started over a dumb ass, racist ass comment that she wouldn’t be able to ignore. She smiled at her new friend, encouraging the dialogue to commence.

  “Leta, who the hell is BooBoo the Fool and is he the one? I worked with a lady who was always telling me that she wasn’t BooBoo the Fool because she wasn’t the one. I don’t understand what that means and am I supposed to know this BooBoo dude?”

  The look on her face was entirely devoid of malice as she asked the question. The honesty in her tone prevented Leta from laughing outright, but to take a moment and answer the question as openly as she could. It made for a light lunch before she had to depart to deal with five insurance agents. The food arrived at the table and lunch commenced with girl talk about hobbies, travel, and special interests. They departed, promising to get together soon as Leta made her way to the Town Center to greet the insurance agents.

  Three minutes into the conversation with the group, Leta was on her feet and ready to leave, without a backward glance to either man. It hadn’
t gone as Gerald McCraney hoped. Since meeting Leta at the market on Saturday, he hadn’t been able to shut up about the lady. The other agents weren’t so quickly sold and reserved judgment until the woman arrived. They prayed this wasn’t another one of Gerald’s wild ideas that went nowhere.

  GERALD MCCRANEY COULDN’T keep still. He paced back and forth in front of the window, checking his watch in between steps, anxious for the guest of the hour to arrive. In her honor, he’d gone to the local coffee shop to purchase the good stuff versus brewing a pot of the brown bait in the blue can Willis Foredan brought to each meeting. He wanted Leta Eaton to be impressed and want to help them, but moreover, he wanted the lady on his team. If he were able to afford her on his own, Gerald would have been selfish and not told the others of the rare find. Three minutes after the woman walked into the room, he wished he hadn’t mentioned her at all to his fellow agents.

  “Leta Eaton, I’m so glad you were able to make it. Come in, come on in,” Gerald said, briskly shaking her hand.

  “Thanks for the invite and it is good to see you again,” she said, facing the group of men. She was surprised to see a black face in the room, and she nodded at him, acknowledging his presence.

  “You didn’t say she was a black woman,” a ruddy-faced man with a necktie too short to reach the middle of his protruding belly stated.

  “George Danby, what does that have to do with the price of bait at the tackle shop?” Gerald asked.

  “Well, if she’s from a big urban city, she’s not going to understand how we do things here,” George said in his defense.

  “Insurance is insurance,” the black male in the rear said. He was a clean-cut gentleman with a deep, rich voice that reminded her of the Allstate Man on the commercials. “Mrs. Eaton, are you licensed to practice in New Hampshire?”

  “I recently arrived and am getting settled. This was a courtesy meeting at the request of Mr. McCraney,” she answered.

  “A courtesy meeting?” George said with a huff in his voice. “Gerald said we each had to chalk up twenty grand apiece to hire you to do our investigating. I think that is a little steep for an on-call agent. Are you going to make coffee for us when you come into the office as well?”

  “George, shut your fool mouth,” Gerald snapped. “Last year alone I had to fork out thirty grand to have an agent come over from Manchester or Nashua. I had to pay mileage for the trip plus the cost of putting them up in a hotel while they investigated. She is right here in our community and Mrs. Eaton is our neighbor.”

  “Well, there goes the neighborhood,” George said under his breath.

  Leta didn’t see a need to explain herself or make a pitch for the position since she’d already made up her mind that she didn’t want it. She sure as hell didn’t want to be bothered with these men who were too wrapped up in their own personal prejudices to see the benefit of having a local investigative agent on the payroll.

  “Gentleman, thank you for your time. It was a pleasure to meet you all,” she said, reaching for the door handle.

  “Wait... Mrs. Eaton, you’re leaving?” the black gentleman asked, with surprise on his face.

  “Yes. I am,” Leta said, opening the door and stepping into the afternoon air. Her mind was on dinner and what she planned to make for her husband to feast upon when he got home. The sound of her heels clicking on the stairs made Gerald run out the door behind her.

  “Mrs. Eaton, please wait,” he pleaded. “We need you.”

  “This may be true, Mr. McCraney, but I don’t need to walk in every day to that sort of attitude, and the two other men on your team who said nothing, in agreement or in defense,” Leta replied. “I don’t have that kind of time nor desire to spend days on end trying to win over people that I can help. They don’t want my help, so I’m going home to continue my life.”

  “I want your help. Rufus Nikerson wants your help,” Gerald said. “Maybe we can work with you on a freelance basis. I have three cases sitting on my desk right now and Rufus has two. That is five cases to get you started, Mrs. Eaton. Please, help me.”

  Leta sighed. “I haven’t even transferred my driver’s license over yet. Let me get settled and get on the phone with the New Hampshire Insurance Department to double-check the licensing requirements, then we shall go from there,” she told him.

  Gerald stuck a folded piece of paper toward her hand. “I’ve checked already. Here are the requirements. I also checked on you and your registration in Georgia and also discovered you were an attorney.”

  “Yes, I am,” Leta said, eyeballing him suspiciously.

  “People in this town need honesty, fairness, and an agent who is looking out for their best interest, not just the monthly premium payments. I have three clients who really need to have their claims investigated and settled before the cold sets in for the winter, Mrs. Eaton. Please, help me help them,” Gerald said with sad puppy eyes.

  “Let me talk to my husband, and I’ll be in touch,” she said, accepting the paper and his handshake.

  Gerald returned to his fellow agents inside the office and began to scold them like small children. “I’m ashamed of you! Did you know she is also a civil rights attorney? Just as easy as she could help us, she could also set up practice and help the citizens of this town bring suits against us for dragging our heels on claims. I’m just so dadgum angry with you, George! Ted and Willis, you said nothing, which she took as being on George’s side,” he scoffed.

  George didn’t appreciate being singled out and popped up to his feet. “Damn it, Gerald, if you like her so much then you hire her and leave us out of it. I’m going to continue to do business as usual and serve the good people of this town. I don’t need some over-educated feisty black woman in my business affairs,” he said with a nod of his rounded head.

  “The five of us represent the ten largest property and casualty insurers in the country,” Rufus interjected. “If Mrs. Eaton can help me serve my customers faster and get families back on track, then I’m all for working with her. Gerald, hopefully, you and I can come to an agreement with the lady. I have two cases I need to move on today.”

  “She said she’d let me know something as soon as possible,” Gerald said, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his hand. “I just hope she doesn’t turn us down.”

  Leta sat inside the rental car making a list of the things she needed to get done. She also needed to take care of a new social security card as soon as the change of address was complete, and she needed to change her driver’s license among with the multitude of other paperwork that went along with a name change.

  “Shit, I’m tired already,” she said, turning the car toward the center of town to stop at the market for a couple of chicken breasts, broccoli, and anything else she could cook on a sheet pan. “Easy dinner tonight. Easy and tasty.”

  EVAN’S STOMACH GROWLED and rumbled as if his innards were trying to form a peace treaty with his outtards. All he wanted was to make a quick stop into town, then head home to his wife. His hand had barely touched the handle of the vehicle when he heard his name called across the parking lot.

  “Evan, hold on a minute, please,” Rufus Nikerson called out.

  “Oh great, what has my wife bought now?” he mumbled under his breath. The man was smiling from ear to ear, which was a good sign. He just prayed that she hadn’t bought half of Nikerson’s Insurance Company and planned to be like a good neighbor to the man. Instead he offered what he considered to be his neighborly smile, which turned out to look like a cross between smelling something stinky and a sarcastic comeback. “Rufus, what can I do for you?”

  “Man, I met your wife today,” Rufus started, shaking his head in that I have something to tell you that you’re not going to like, but I want you to hear it from me instead look. “The meeting went as well as to be expected with Willis and George, and of course Ted is afraid to speak up to his own shadow.”

  Evan’s facial expression didn’t change when he spoke, saying, “So she turned you dow
n I take it?”

  “Pretty much and walked out the damned door, treating us if we were making her late to get her nails done,” Rufus said with a chuckle. “I like her. I want to work with her, but I need a chance to talk with Mrs. Eaton away from the guys and make my pitch.”

  Evan’s eyebrows arched in a feigned amusement, “And how do you propose doing that, Rufus?”

  “I figured, me and my wife, Mai Ahn, can have you folks over for dinner or vice versus, and we can all chat and get to know each other,” Rufus said with a toothy grin. “Plus, since you’re married, we can discuss updating your policies, annuities, and estate planning for your future generations.”

  “Sure, whatever,” Evan said, “Friday, six thirty p.m., my place, bring a side dish to go with steaks. I have beer, but if you want wine, bring your own.”

  “Me and Mai Ahn, come over to your house on Friday for steaks and beer?” Rufus asked, genuinely surprised at the invite he had weaseled his way into.

  “You know where I live, right?”

  “Sure. Sure. Right on the lake. Mai Ahn will be so pleased. See you on Friday,” Rufus said, patting Evan on the back like he was a big dog that had pooped in the right corner of the yard.

  Evan wasn’t happy at all. “What the hell is she doing, riding through town in Santa’s sleigh picking up all the misfit toys on the island? Shit, now we’re having a dinner party.”

  He found himself smiling all the way to the store to pick up an item he’d selected as a surprise for Leta. The smile only widened the closer he got to home. In the front yard, Donnie had begun the major work on the firepit, and if all went well, Evan could add a few chairs, and Friday night after dinner, he and the men could sit around the fire, drinking beers and looking cool. Like cool Daddies, sharing stories about how much money their wives were spending and never being able to retire if she didn’t cool her spending jets.