The look on his friend’s face was one of surprise. “Boy, it is fantastic! I love the stove and the fireplaces, oh and the oil lamps too. Boy, you found the life style you were looking for. Congrats, man. I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” Bob said with a nod, “and I’m serious about you coming out to visit. I’ll send you the tickets.”
“No need, guy. I’ve been putting in lots of overtime since we’re down a man in the office.”
Bob winced, “Ouch! That hurt.” He looked at his watch and added, “Hey, guy. I need to sign off now and get ready to Skype Anne. I want to throw another log on the fireplace and fluff up Samson’s fur and introduce him to her.”
“You take care of yourself, Bob. And let’s stay in touch, dude. You know my hours.”
“You got it, partner. I’ll catch ya real soon.” They signed off and Bob threw another log on the fire. He then checked his watch and once again calculating the time difference between Nevada and New York, said. “Five fifty-five. Perfect timing.” He dialed Anne and after three rings her face appeared.
“Hi there, city guy!”
“Hi back, city girl. How are you liking New York?”
“I like it fine. A little fast, maybe, but I catch on real fast. How’s it going way out there?”
“Well,” he said, “I found someone to help me pass my time until you get back here.”
Ann’s eyes arched and she said in a slightly higher pitch of voice, “Oh? Well, it has been three days and that is a long time, so I guess I don’t blame you.”
She saw Bob grin and reach out of the laptop’s camera view. He popped up holding Samson and the beagle looked at her face on the screen and tried to lick her face.
“OH MY GOSH!!! He’s is beautiful!” She looked embarrassed as she said, “I’m sorry. I thought, well, never mind what I thought. He can take my place…for a time.” She grinned and went on, “Is it a ‘he’?”
Bob nodded and answered, “Yep!”
“What’s his name and where did you get him?”
“This is Samson. Ed Pushkin and his wife, Katey spent a few days here and they brought him here for me.” He put the pup down and asked, “So how’s it going with the job?”
“It’s a tad overwhelming but interesting and should be fun when we’re back in Bransville.”
Bob stuck his tongue in his cheek and asked with arched eyebrows, “So, how is your friend the weather guy holding up? Did he bring his makeup person along?”
She grinned. “He’s as happy as a pig in a mud hole. Just being around Rockefeller Center has his ego up one thousand percent but I have to constantly remind him not to look up at the tall buildings as that tells everyone that he’s a tourist. It’s embarrassing.”
Bob grinned at the thought. “Maybe he’ll like it enough to want to stay there?”
“Could be,” she answered with a smile. Anyway, let’s talk about you. What project are you working on now?”
“Well, thanks to Ed and Katey, the windows are all open and clean. The sidewalks are complete and I have a bathtub installed.”
“A bathtub? In the house?”
He shook his head and said, “Not really, more like, up next to the well. But the privacy is outstanding!”
Anne smiled and made one eyebrow dance as she said, “Mmm, and the view too, I bet.”
Bob went on, slightly red-faced, “Well, I do think that Samson was watching me dry off.”
She placed a long red nail into the slight cleft in her chin and asked, “Is the tub large enough for two?”
“The physical answer: no, but the thought: intriguing.”
She smiled and using her hand, fanned her face as she blew her breath out between pursed lips. “Phew! Okay! Okay! On another note, will you pan the room with your laptop so I can feel as though I were there with you?”
Bob lifted the computer and did the same that he had with Tommy and gave her a complete 360-degree look at the living room. He placed the laptop down and said, “If a house can speak, it just said that it misses you.”
“You are missed too. It’s going to be a long six months.”
“Why so long?”
“It’s a brand new media for me and there are so many things that I have to learn: advertising and how to handle the advertisers; how to set prices for various time frames; deadlines; script writing; scheduling between the New York time zone and ours in Nevada.” She slapped her forehead, “Lord! It is huge!”
“Well,” said Bob with a shrug, “I just mean that these days with the computers and all, why can’t you sort of work from home?”
Anne shook her head. “Because the New York guys want us right here at all times. These people have more meetings than I’ve ever seen. Why, their lunch budget alone could run our newspaper for a year.”
“I know how it goes. I can easily hop a plane and be there in few hours.”
“Let me get settled first,” she said, “I have to set up a routine before I make any plans that I wouldn’t want to break.” Her telephone suddenly rang and she said with a grimace, “Bob, I need to get that. Skype me again tomorrow?”
“Promise. I miss you, cowgirl.”
“And I miss you too, cowboy.” She signed off.
Both Anne and Bob worked hard at their jobs and time passed quickly on one hand, but slowly on the other as they both had a whole slew of reasons they couldn’t set a date that he would fly to New York. On the last day of June, during their nightly Skype sessions, Bob quipped, “Hey, I know that we keep postponing our get together in New York because when you are not in meetings or at a business lunch, you are studying or catching up on your sleep and I understand that. But I wonder if having Skype allows us to keep putting off our getting together?”
Anne nodded, “You mean like, Skype enables us to stay apart while still seeing each other?”
“Well, it certainly makes it easier to put off our physically getting together.”
“But,” she asked with a look of concern, “you don’t mean that we shouldn’t Skype each other, do you?”
He quickly raised an open hand, “No! Not at all! After all, this is all we have besides cell phoning each other and at least with Skype I get to see your cute face. All I mean is, having Skype makes it easier to say, ‘Well, meeting this week is no good because I have a business meeting…besides we’re always on Skype anyway’. See what I mean?”
She nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean and you’re right…we must set up a meeting, Skype or no Skype.” She looked at her calendar and said, “Any chance that you can come to New York for the Fourth of July?”
A big grin came across Bob’s face as he answered excitedly, “That’s a date! And don’t make any plans for us…I know what you would like and I’ll take care of it. Deal?”
She nodded her agreement.
They signed off with a kiss and both made their plans to meet up on the holiday.
Bob went online to buy a round trip ticket for July the third and when prompted to check off the box for the type of class he wished to fly, he reflected and remembering the mix-up with his seating, decided to go overboard and fly first-class.
The morning of the third, he dropped Samson off at the Pushkin’s’ and hopped a taxi to the airport. Bob found it more than a little embarrassing to be put in a closed-off section of the airport and served wine and finger food as the other passengers milled around the waiting area. He purposely stayed away from the velvet curtain so when it opened he couldn’t be seen. The New Yorker was glad he wore his dark glasses as the flight attendant escorted the few first class passengers into the large Boeing 787 Dreamliner before the other passengers, but found it to be a totally different world when he was seated. Large, plush seats that reclined completely next to larger-than-normal windows, along with a fine steak or lobster lunch and all the wine or mixed drinks he wished, gave him a peek into the lives of the rich and famous.
He was mixed with a feeling of love and loathing as he now knew both life
styles and it didn’t stop when they landed as once again he was escorted along with the other first class passengers out of the aircraft first.
At home on the macadam streets of New York City, he took a taxicab to Anne’s apartment on East 72nd street and grinned as a young man at the front door asked who he was and who he wished to see then called her on the intercom to announce him.
“Bob’s here,” he said in a casual tone of voice and Bob heard her answer back through the intercom, “Thank you, please let him come up.”
Giving Bob the double-check, he said as he opened the door, “Room 507.”
Taking the elevator, he stepped out and was greeted by Anne standing with her apartment door opened and a warm smile on her face as she said, “Hi cowboy.”
He was too choked up to even give his cowgirl greeting as they hugged in the open doorway and It took them more than two hours to decide whether to go out to dinner or stay in and order Chinese food.
“There’s this great place over on 50th street that I went to many times,” said Bob, “Ho-Ho’s Chinese Restaurant and the food is outstanding.” She nodded in agreement and they stepped out at seven-thirty.
It was a warm but pleasant evening and as it was still bright out, they walked arm-in-arm along the people-filled sidewalks. Anne smiled proudly as more than one woman looked at the slim, well-tanned Bob in his brown western-cut suit and hat as his dark brown boots clicked on the pavement. She wished she had opted for her western wear instead of her skirt, blouse and low heels.
Dinner at Ho Ho’s was as Bob had said it would be: outstanding and they took the subway to Brooklyn to Patty Diamond’s Bar and Grill where Bob had sipped many a beer as he was growing up.
The big, white-haired bartender walked down the long wooden bar and stopped short as he suddenly recognized Bob. He quickened his step and said with an outstretched hand, “Bob McKillop! Are ya a cowboy now?” They shook hands as he went on, “I heard that ya took a trip out west but just look at ya, lad. Ya look fine in them cowboy clothes and,” he said looking at his face, “ya got yerself a great tan as well.”
Bob smiled and answered his old friend, “Yes, Paddy, I’m living out in Nevada these days and out there you can’t help but get a tan.” He turned and faced Anne as he continued, “Paddy Diamond this is Anne Dallas.” They shook hands as Bob went on, “Anne’s from Nevada and is now working in the city for a few months.”
“Pleased ta meet ya, Anne. What’s yer drink?”
“It’s nice meeting you, Paddy and I’ll have a white wine, please.”
Paddy turned to Bob, “JW Black?”
“Right, Paddy.”
Looking around, Anne smiled as she saw the stuffed moose head hanging on an arch over an entranceway leading to the restrooms. “Is that a beard on that moose?”
“Ha,” laughed Bob as he explained, “Naw! That’s just cob-webs swinging in the breeze.” He was about to say something when the door opened and someone shouted, “Hey! Is that Cowboy Bob McKillop I see?”
He turned to see a group of guys his age coming into the bar. “Oh, wow!” he said to Anne, “Here come the guys I grew up with.”
“”So I get to meet the gang? Did you set this up for my benefit, Mayor McKillop?”
“Bob crossed his heart as he raised his right hand up and said, “No! I swear it! These guys are just a bunch of drunks, that’s all.”
“Did you hear that?” asked a big man with a shock of blond hair as he slapped Bob on his back, “He says we’re a bunch of drunks.”
“Well,” said another with a laugh, “we are.”
They did a group hug and Bob lined them up as he introduced them to Anne. “Hon, meet the Brooklyn Knights: Whitey, Rocky, Fats, Sully, Freddy the Gun, Patty Batman, Larry the Bop, GG Graham, Joe A. and his brother John, Sebby, George A., Jack Mac, Dominic, Danny Cav and Nuna Taylor. All drunks, believe me!” He turned to Paddy and called out, “Paddy, drinks are on me!”
The whooping yells that followed went on for most of the night and Bob and Anne staggered home at two in the morning.
Breakfast was a late brunch in a small diner near the apartment and Anne joined him in wearing dark glasses, more for the headache than the sun. “So,” she asked over her second coffee, “what is it that you have planned for tonight?”
“Fireworks under the boardwalk of Coney Island,” he answered with a smile. “You’ll love it, believe me.”
“So you’re sticking with your habit of having your way with me in a sandy environment once again?”
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Wow! Didn’t think of that at all…the sand part I mean. I just wanted you to experience what every Brooklyn boy and girl experienced: drinking a cool beer under the boardwalk of Coney Island as we watched the fireworks and the submarine races.”
Her answer was accompanied with a smile, “I’m all for it, City Slicker.”
They did the typical sight seeing thing as Bob found out that Anne never had the time to really check out New York and after dinner in a small Italian Restaurant in Brooklyn, they caught the subway to Coney Island. He took her to Nathans Famous Hot Dogs for a hot dog and fries before buying a six-pack of beer and with a rolled up blanket under his arm plus the beer and a small radio, went to the boardwalk. and by sundown they had become just one of the many shadows under the boardwalk facing the dark ocean.
He popped open two beers and passed one to Anne as he offered a toast, “Cheers to us. It’s nine o’clock and here we are Skypless.”
They touched cans and took a sip. “There are some technical problems with Skype,” said Anne.
“There are? What are they?”
“Skype doesn’t allow us to do this,” she answered as she kissed him.
They toasted Skype many times before the pyrotechnics made the darkness momentarily disappear revealing many other couples under the boardwalk.
“Ohhh,” sighed Anne, joining the thousands of others as the brilliant fireworks exploded in the sky over Coney Island in a cascade of reds, whites, yellows, blues and purples each followed by a thunder-clap of sound.
The display went on for thirty minutes and as usual they ended in a crescendo of light and sound illuminating the hundreds of couples under the boardwalk. Anne saw Bob pop the last two beers and asked, “Is it over?”
“Yes,” he answered handing her a beer, “But it’s always best to let the crowd leave first. Cheers.” He hefted his beer and she tapped hers against his, as she said, “Cheers.” She watched the last dying ember of a falling incendiary as its trail ended in the dark waters and asked with a shrug, “So, when do the submarine races start?”
Bob grinned and answered, “They’ve been going on all night. You can’t see them because they’re submerged.”
She shook her head, “I don’t get it. Why would anyone come here to watch submarines race if they’re submerged and they couldn’t see them?”
This time it was he who tapped her on the arm lightly, “Silly! That’s what a guy tells a girl to get her here under the boardwalk: ‘let’s go watch the submarine races’. Of course he has other ideas and after he plies her with beer as she waits for the races to begin…well, you know.”
Her reply was a light tap on his arm followed by a kiss.
The subway car they took home had a problem with its lights and they stood by the doors in the dark car and watched Brooklyn glide by from their high perch on the elevated line.
Anne made breakfast the next morning and as she had to be at work in an hour they were both melancholy. Her cell phone rang and he glanced at her as she looked at who it was calling her and simply said as she snapped it closed, “Go to voice mail.”
Bob sipped his coffee and said, “Hey, last night was the best ever. Going under the boardwalk after all this time was fantastic.”
“Well,” she answered, “I now know the difference between the sand in Coney Island and the sand in Nevada.”
“What’s that?”
“The sand in Nevada is
hot and the sand in Coney Island is cool.”
“Maybe at night,” he said, “but when it’s August and you are going from the water to your blanket, the sand is burning hot!”
Jumping up she went into the bedroom and returned with a small black velvet pouch in her hand and said as she passed it to him, “Something to bring back to Rattlesnake Haven and place on the mantle place.”
“Should I open it now?”
“Go ahead,” she answered with a grin and nod of her head as she sat with her elbows on the table, her fingers intertwined.
Opening the drawstring, he took out a corked, glass vial filled with sand. “Coney Island sand?” he asked with a pleasured look on his face.
“Yep! I filled it last night while we were under the boardwalk. I thought it would be a perfect memento for our place in Rattlesnake Haven.” She looked in his eyes, “Do you agree?”
“You bet I do.”
She sighed and said as she placed her hand over his, “This was the best Fourth of July ever. I’m going to miss you, Mayor McKillop.”
“Me too, you, City Slicker Anne. When can we do this again?”
She shrugged her shoulders, pointed to a thick, blue folder on her coffee table and said, “I have to know everything in that folder because there are five more right after that one that I have to understand and be able to implement to make this merger work. I’m afraid this will be it for a long time.” She looked from the folder to Bob and with a big smile added, “But at least we still have Skype.”
Bob grinned back as he agreed while squeezing her hand, “Thank the stars for Skype. Now if only they could incorporate the kissing feature.” He looked serious for a second and said, “I think I’m going to send them an e-mail suggesting that.”
“I second that.”
Once again her cell phone rang and once again she ignored it.
Anne was back at her office when Bob’s aircraft took off with him settled in first class. This time he didn’t mind as much as he reclined his seat and took a long nap.
The rest of July, August and most of September passed with Bob finishing all of the tasks he had set for himself. He entered the first store, vacuumed and cleaned it out. Using another small wooden washtub, he washed the bedclothes and curtains as well as he could before hanging them to dry on the clothesline he had set up; made sure that the chimneys were clear and started a fire in each fireplace and stove to make sure it was operable. Some places took less time than others, such as the schoolhouse; church, barn and a few others while the hotel took much more time, as he had to do each of the twenty-six rooms plus the lobby. But it was a labor of love and time passed quickly. He was also happy to see the hoof prints around the well, which meant that the wild horses shared his bathtub for their nightly drinks and he made sure the soapy water was cleaned out after each bath he and Samson took. He went to visit Ed and Katey every week and enjoyed a home cooked meal with them and relished the long, hot showers that the Clayton Hotel provided as he rented a room on each visit.
Romance in a Ghost Town Page 21
