The New Butcher in Town

by Nanisi Barrett D'Arnuk

She smiled and nodded as I got into my car.

  “See you then.” I waved as I started to back the car out. She waved, too, as I drove away.

  Well, it was a start. I didn’t know anything about her, but at least we could start a conversation. If it didn’t work out, there was nothing lost. If it did, then maybe we’d both have a reason to be here.

  * * * *

  Tuesday afternoon, I drove into town and stopped at Wright’s.

  “Hi, Mr. Wright. Did my mother call you? I think she wanted some chops, too,” I said as I walked in.

  “Yes,” he said with a smile. “She ordered a half dozen. You’re going to have a good meal next week.” “

  “Wonderful.”

  “How was your barbeque last Sunday?”

  “It was great! We ate every single one of those ribs. Not a thing left.”

  He laughed. “Tell your mom to order three slabs next time, then you’ll have something to chew on the next day.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Did those kids like the burgers?”

  “They sure did. The older one, Ripley, ate two all by himself.”

  Marvin laughed. “Sounds like he takes after his daddy!”

  “He sure does. Is Jody around?”

  “No, she’s out at the farm helping Joseph butcher hogs. She did leave a note for you, though, in case you came in.” He went over to the shelf where there was a cork-board and took a piece of paper from it. He handed it to me.

  “Thanks, Mr. Wright,” I said as I took it and opened it.

  “Sorry I’m not here, but they started butchering some hogs this weekend, and it’s taking longer than we thought. I will be back tomorrow, though. Drinks Wednesday night?”

  I smiled. At least she remembered. That was a plus. I took a pen out of my purse and wrote at the bottom of her note: “Wednesday sounds good. I’ll be here before you close. If your plans change, call me.” I left my number, too. “Leave this for her?” I asked, handing the note back.

  “I’m glad to see she’s making friends here. I don’t want her to think that life here is only about chopping meat.” Mr. Wright put the note back on the board. “She’ll check this when she comes in tonight. They were doing a lot of hogs this weekend.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have a lot of bacon soon.”

  “Yup. Joseph’s gonna smoke some over Maplewood. That should be a nice taste.”

  “It sounds like it. Save us a slab.”

  Mr. Wright nodded and went to write it on his clipboard.

  “See you tomorrow,” I called as I went back out to my car.

  Yes, I’d show her that life is not just about chopping meat.

  * * * *

  The next day, I went by two of the places I’d left a job application. The first had taken their “Help Wanted” poster down, so I didn’t even go inside. The second had new cashiers at the front: young high school kids, so I wrote that off, too.

  I stopped to get gas at the station on Main Street.

  As I was pumping gas, a car drove up beside me.

  “Amy Gilbert!” I heard as the window rolled down. “I heard you were back in town!”

  It was another of my classmates: Ronnie Sheldon.

  “Hi, Ron!”

  “You’re looking good,” he said. “What ‘cha doing here?”

  I looked down at my hand. “Pumping gas!” I answered.

  He laughed as if that was the funniest thing he’d heard in ages. “I can see that. You home for good?”

  I shook my head. “For a while. I’m between jobs.”

  “Bummer. You living at your folks’ house?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll give you a call. Maybe we can go out sometime. I gotta get going, though. Talk to you later.” He drove away before I could answer yes or no.

  Good God, Ronnie Sheldon was all I needed. He had hung with the crowd Joey hung with. He was a nice guy but not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.

  I put the nozzle back in the pump and took the receipt. I got back in my car. It was five forty-five: time to get to Wrights.

  I pulled up in front and got out of my car. Jody was just taking a stack of meat into the back room when I walked in.

  “Hi!” she called. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hi, Amy,” Mr. Wright called out. He was bent behind the counter, wiping down the showcase.

  “How’re you doing, Mr. Wright?”

  “A lot better now that Jody’s back. I’d forgotten all the things I had to do. It feels like she’s been here for longer than three weeks.”

  “It’s a good thing you have her, then,” I answered.

  “You gals going out to paint the town?”

  I laughed. “I tend to doubt it. There’s not much here that needs painting.”

  Jody came out of the back as he stood up. It looked like his knees were better. “Okay. Everything’s back in the refrigerator. Anything else?” she asked. She was wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Nope. You gals go out and have fun. I just gotta lock up.”

  Jody smiled at him and turned to me. “I’ve got to go wash up. Are we taking your car or mine?”

  “Let’s take mine.”

  “Can you meet me in the back alley? It should only take a few minutes.”

  “I’ll be there,” I answered.

  “Good. See you in a minute.” She went out through the back.

  “Don’t get into any trouble, you hear?” Mr. Wright told me.

  “Of course not. I’ll see you later.” I went outside and got into my car. As I pulled away, I saw him lower the shades, turn his sign from open to closed, and check the lock. I drove around the corner and pulled into the alley.

  I waited about fifteen minutes before the back door opened and she walked out. She had on clean jeans and a different shirt.

  “Sorry, I had to change everything. I had blood all over me,” she said as she slipped into the passenger seat.

  “Not a problem at all. Say, do you like shrimp?”

  “Shrimp? I haven’t had it in ages.”

  “Olive Garden has a special all-you-can-eat shrimp-fest. I thought you might like something a little different. My treat!”

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said as her face lit up.

  “Then Olive Garden, here we come!” I pumped up the engine and slipped it in gear. We started in the direction of Restaurant Row, where every franchised food place imaginable sat side by side.

  Surprisingly, there was no wait, and we were seated immediately.

  “We’re here for the shrimp-fest,” I told the waitress.

  She immediately turned the menus to the shrimp-fest section. “You can start with any two types,” she told us. “Just flag me down when you want more.”

  She brought us a large bowl of salad with a bundle of bread sticks. I ordered a dish of calamari and fried mozzarella sticks to share. I also ordered a peach Bellini.

  “What’s that?” Jody asked.

  “It’s frozen peaches and Prosecco,” I answered. “You’ve never had one? Taste mine. If you like it you can order one, too.”

  “What’s Prosecco?” she asked.

  “It’s Italian champagne. It’s sweeter than the French type. I like it better.”

  “Then I’ve got to try it.”

  The waitress brought my drink, and I pushed it over to Jody. She took a sip, and her eyes lit up.

  “Yes! I want one, too,” she told the waitress.

  The waitress nodded and turned away. In just a minute, she brought Jody’s Bellini and then the tray with our appetizers. We each reached for a forkful of calamari, a mozzarella stick, and loaded salad onto our salad plates.

  “These are really good,” Jody said, referring to the calamari. “The ones I had before were a little rubbery.”

  I agreed they were better than I’d had before.

  A few minutes later, the waitress brought our entrees. I started with sautéed shrimp and shrimp parmigiana. Jody started with
scampi and coconut shrimp.

  “This is indeed a feast!” Jody crowed. “I’d almost forgotten there was more than beef, pork, and lamb. Thank you for reminding me.”

  “Eat as much as you want, but save room for dessert! They have spectacular desserts here.”

  “This is even better than Thanksgiving at my Aunt April’s house, and she’s the best cook I know.”

  We started in on our food as we talked a little about our families. I found out she had a younger brother, and her dad taught at the University of Wyoming in Laramie. She lived in Red Buttes, about fifteen miles south of there.

  “I imagine, with all the mountains up there, this place must seem strange to you.”

  She nodded. “I always knew Kansas was flat, but I didn’t remember it was this flat.”

  I laughed. “There are some hills around, especially to the west. If you want flat, though, try Nebraska.”

  “No, thanks.”

  We talked and laughed through the entire meal.

  “What made you want to try butchering?” I asked.

  “I didn’t think butchers ever starved.”

  “That’s smart. I have a degree in English Lit, but books aren’t that nutritious, so I’m looking for a job now.”

  “I imagine that’s rough.”

  We finished a second order of shrimp. Then she ordered a warm Apple Crostata, and I had a plate of zeppoli with warm chocolate dipping sauce. I shared one with her because she’d never had them.

  “These are almost like the donut things in Mexican restaurants that have honey on them,” she noted, “What do they call them? Sopapillas?”

  I smiled. “Something like that.”

  As we sat back, I asked, “Do you want a cup off coffee or another Bellini?”

  She smiled at me. “I really liked the Bellini.”

  So I ordered two more.

  The waitress brought the Bellinis and the check.

  “Let me pay for half of that,” she offered.

  “Nope. This was my treat,” I insisted.

  “You don’t have to,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “You’re sweet,” she said with a big smile.

  I grinned. “I know.” I added my credit card to the check folder.

  “Then the next time is on me,” she said.

  The next time? That was hopeful.

  We sat back and chatted about almost nothing of any importance as we finished our drinks.

  When they were gone, I signed the credit card slip, and we went out to my car.

  “Now where?” I asked.

  “Well, I’ve got a full belly and a nice buzz from that Bellini. Maybe I should go home,” she said softly. “These have been a few hard days. My shoulders are a little sore.”

  “I imagine they would be. You were slinging hogs around?”

  “Well, not the really big ones. Uncle Joseph saves those for breeding. We were taking down the ones under a hundred pounds. The meat is nicer then.”

  “Wow, but even a hundred pounds is quite hefty.”

  “Yes. The guys who work out there lifted the heavier ones, but I still had to lift the parts we were cutting up. I fell into bed exhausted every night.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Then we’ll get you home so you can rest.” I drove across town and back to the alley. We were both silent. As I pulled into a parking spot, she turned to me.

  “This was a fantastic night,” she said.

  “I think so, too,” I agreed.

  We stared into each other’s eyes for a long minute, and then she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

  My arms encircled her as I kissed her back.

  She sat back and looked at me.

  “Thanks for tonight,” she said, then quickly got out of the car and walked briskly to the back door, unlocked it, and went inside. In a minute, I saw the light come on upstairs.

  Damn! I thought as I sat looking up at the window. It had been so hopeful. Why did she run away? What went wrong?

  I finally reached down and turned the key in the ignition, but I didn’t put it in gear. I just sat there.

  Well, I thought, Tonight started so good. I’ll have to come back when she can’t run away from me and find out what’s wrong.

  I finally slid the shift into gear and drove away.

  * * * *

  When I walked into the house, Mom and Dad were sitting in the living room, watching TV.

  “You’re home early,” Mom said. “Did you have a good time?”

  “We went to Olive Garden. They have a special on shrimp. It was good: all you can eat.”

  “Really? We may have to go. Roy? What do you think,” she asked Dad.

  He looked up. “Huh?”

  “Amy says Olive Garden has a shrimp special: all you can eat. Can we go?”

  “Uh, sure. Sounds good.” He went back to watching TV.

  “I’m exhausted,” I told Mom as I gave her a kiss. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Goodnight, darling. Sleep well.”

  I went up to my room, still confused by what had happened.

  I got into bed, but all I could do was toss and turn. It was way into the early morning hours. The television had been turned off, and Mom and Dad had gone to bed before I fell asleep.

  * * * *

  It was almost noon before I got up and was ready to leave the house. Mom was in the kitchen, peeling peaches.

  “I’m making your cobbler,” she said. “Are you coming home for dinner?”

  “Of course,” I replied. “I’ll be here.”

  “Where are you going today?”

  “I’m going to check a few places where I left job applications,” I replied.

  “Do you still want to do that?” Mom asked.

  “Yes. I can’t just sit around here all day. I’ve got to be doing something.”

  “Well, I guess. I thought you wanted to write a book. You used to do a lot of writing.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had any inspiration lately.”

  “Well, maybe you just need to think about it.”

  “Maybe. Let me at least try to get a job. Maybe that will be the inspiration I need.”

  “All right. Maybe that’s it. You know better than me about those things.”

  I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be fine, Mom. Just let me figure it out on my own.”

  “Okay.” She turned back to the peaches.

  “I’ll be home by dinner time.”

  I went out and got into my car. I drove downtown and headed for Wright’s butcher shop. I parked in front, got out of my car, and went inside.

  “Amy Gilbert! I’ve seen you more in the last two weeks than in the last five years,” Mr. Wright said in greeting.

  I laughed. “I know! It seems like I always end up here. Is Jody around?”

  “No, she isn’t. Joseph came in town to deliver some pork, and she left with him to go help slaughter a few sheep. Your roast and chops should be here by the beginning of the week.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll tell Mom. Will Jody be back tonight?”

  “No, I doubt it. It will probably take a couple days to get them all done.”

  “Can I leave her a note?”

  “Sure, but I can’t guarantee when she’ll see it. By the way, did you two have fun last night? Jody seemed kind of hungover this morning.”

  I had to laugh. “Yes, we did.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Just over to Restaurant Row. Olive Garden is having a shrimp-fest: all you can eat, so we stayed there and drank Bellinis.”

  “Ah-ha! That’s what got into her. Those Bellinis will sneak up on you. They’re so sweet, you can drink too many before you even notice it.”

  “Yes. That was probably both our problems last night.”

  “You’d better watch yourself, then.”

  “You’re right.”

  I took a pad of paper out of my bag and started to write a short note.

  “Sorry our nig
ht ended so abruptly. Hope everything is all right. If you’d like to go out over the weekend, give me a call. Otherwise, see you next week. Amy.” I left my number again.

  I tore the page out and folded it. I handed it to Mr. Wright. He tacked it onto the board.

  “Oh, by the way, you wouldn’t know anyone who’s looking for a job, would you?”

  “A job? Yes! I’m looking for one. Why?”

  “Buzz Felten at Felten’s Market is looking for someone to work in the office. Do you do bookkeeping?”

  “I can. I don’t know all the terms of things, but I’m good in math and I’ve done payroll before.”

  “Great! Go over and see him. He’s looking for someone, but all that’s applied are high school kids. He wants someone he can rely on, not young kids who want to work for an hour then go call their friends. The last person he hired spent more time on their phone than doing any work.”

  “Sure. I’ll go see him today. Thanks a lot, Mr. Wright.”

  “Tell him I sent you. He may want you to start today!”

  “I’ll go over there right now.”

  I waved good-bye and went out to my car. Felton’s Market was a little grocery store two blocks from here that had the best fruit and vegetables around. People went to Felton’s to get what they wanted. Although Wal-Mart was cheaper, it didn’t have the quality Felton’s had. It, like Wright’s, was an older Mom-and-Pop venture that was struggling to remain open against the giant multinational conglomerates like Wal-Mart and Target. The thing that kept them open was the quality of their products and the friendliness of their employees. Everyone knew you could walk into either store, have a nice chat with the owner, and come out with the best products available. You also knew that if you were a dollar short, or going through some rough times, it didn’t matter. They’d run a tab for you until things got better.

  * * * *

  When I walked into Felton’s, the store only had three or four customers, but Buzz Felton was helping an older lady pick out some pears. I waited until he was done before I stepped forward.

  “Mr. Felton,” I started, “Mr. Wright told me you were looking for someone to work in the office, doing some bookkeeping.”

  He looked at me. “Amy Gilbert, isn’t it? You’re Grace and Roy’s girl, aren’t you?”

  I smiled and nodded. No matter how old I got, in this town, I’d always be Grace and Roy’s girl.

  “I thought you had moved away to college,” he said.