Love in a Small Town

by Curtiss Ann Matlock

  Molly shook her head. “Good Lord, Rennie, he was all of twenty-five. And we’re women in our forties. We shouldn’t be flirtin’ out car windows.”

  “I’m thirty-nine,” Rennie said emphatically. “And there’s no way he could tell our ages with our sunglasses on.” She leaned over and peered in the mirror. “Age has nothin’ to do with fun, Molly. We enjoyed it, and he did, too. Probably made his day. If he has a wife, he’ll go home and try flirtin’ with her.” She was quite satisfied with herself. Rennie always could justify anything she ever did.

  Molly couldn’t recall the last time she had flirted. She was friendly with men she knew, but it wasn’t a flirting kind of friendly. She avoided meeting the gazes of strange men. It seemed when she had married, she had shuttered her eyes to everyone but Tommy Lee. That had seemed the correct thing to do, and besides, she’d always had eyes only for Tommy Lee anyway.

  The past months she had tried flirting with Tommy Lee, but she didn’t seem to know how to flirt anymore.

  As Rennie pulled into a space at the curb, Molly said, “A couple of months ago a man I didn’t even know bought my Coca-Cola at the 7-Eleven.” A warm flush swept her.

  Rennie’s head swung around, and her eyebrows went way up over her sunglasses.

  “I was on my way to the soft drink machine,” Molly said, a little hesitantly, “and I happened to meet this man’s eyes over the snack isle. They were really blue. I’d noticed him from the back first, because he was . . . well, sort of Tommy Lee’s size, muscular like that and not real tall. He was handsome, a horseman, I think, you know, really short hair and a cowboy hat and starched shirt. He was about my age, too.

  “But that second our eyes met . . . well, you know there was that spark between us.” She grew embarrassed just remembering. “I said hello to his nod, but something just happened inside me, and I couldn’t meet his eyes again. I kept thinking I might know him, but I couldn’t think of who he was, and I wasn’t gonna stare at him.”

  At the time she had tried sneaking a better look at him, but he’d been looking at her, and she’d been afraid he’d see her looking at him.

  “It was crowded in the store, people gettin’ off work, and while we were waitin’ to pay, we stood right beside each other, but I wouldn’t look at him. I spoke to these guys beside me, and they were perfect strangers . . . but harmless, you know. Then when it was my turn to pay, the clerk told me that the man before me had paid for my drink. I walked out and saw him driving off in this bright red dually pickup, but he was lookin’ back at me and slowing like he was gonna stop. Lord, I didn’t know what to do. I was so thrilled and embarrassed—I mean, me, some stranger buying me a soft drink like that. I think I kind of lifted the soft drink. . . . I wanted to thank him; it’d been a nice thing for him to do, but I just couldn’t look at him.”

  Rennie was shaking her head and grinning. “Molly, lots of men look at you. You just never notice.”

  “Well, it could have been that he just mistook me for someone else . . . someone he knew.”

  Since that time, she had indulged in a few fantasies about her gallant stranger. And she had kept an eye out for red pickup trucks. One day she had actually followed a red truck down a street in Lawton, but it had turned out not to be the same one.

  “I sure would like to know who he was,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

  As they got out of the car, Molly remembered how after that encounter she had gone home eager to see Tommy Lee. She guessed it had been how Rennie had said, a bit of flirting had made her more eager for him.

  But Tommy Lee had been busy on an engine and hadn’t even hardly looked at her, and shortly after, a customer had come and Tommy Lee had spent thirty minutes going over engine specifications with him. Molly hadn’t gotten time with Tommy Lee until supper, and then he’d been more interested in talking about the new, powerful air compressor he intended to buy than in paying attention to her.

  The cafe was nearly full, but Molly and Rennie found a booth at the back. As they went to it, people called greetings. Molly saw the curious looks and felt self-conscious. It was as if someone had stood up and announced: There’s Molly Hayes, who has been married to Tommy Lee for twenty-five years and took off and left him. Rennie removed her sunglasses, but Molly left hers on.

  “Well, how are you Collier girls today?” Fayrene Gardner said when she brought their silverware and glasses of water. She brought it all without a tray, holding the two sweaty glasses of water in one hand and not spilling a drop. She was older than Molly and had been working a long time at the cafe.

  Molly said, “Fine,” and Rennie said, “Better than a dog with two tails.”

  “I heard about you and Tommy Lee,” Fayrene said to Molly. “It sure came as a surprise, I’m tellin’ you. It seemed like if anyone in the world could hold it together, it sure would be you two.”

  Molly wasn’t certain what to say, but Fayrene didn’t seem to expect an answer. She just asked if they wanted to see menus.

  Molly and Rennie had already decided on the barbecue plate, which was the cafe’s specialty. As Fayrene walked away, Molly said, “Last winter me and Tommy Lee went through a phase of coming here for the barbecue plate at least once a week. Tommy Lee likes Jud’s barbecue better than anyone’s. I never can eat all of mine, so I always give half of it to Tommy Lee.”

  She was looking down at the table and rubbing her hand across the Formica. She wished she hadn’t said anything. Tommy Lee always remarked on how she ate half of things.

  Rennie said, “I’ll eat all of mine, but I won’t be able to handle yours. I guess we can wrap up what we don’t eat and send it to the poor people up in the City.”

  “I’ll take some home to Ace. He eats just about anything.”

  Fayrene whizzed by and smacked two tall glasses of ice tea down in front of them. Molly sprinkled sugar on top of hers, letting it melt down over the ice. She looked up and saw a woman getting a toddler out of a high chair—a little girl with blond curls. The woman held the child close for a moment, rubbing her cheek against that of the child.

  When Molly looked at Rennie, she saw Rennie watching the child, too, with a soft, yearning expression on her face so strong that Molly had to look away. She felt guilty. How can I want a child? I’ve had three children, but Rennie hasn’t had any. I should be satisfied. . . .I'm beyond children now. But the yearning remained, taunting her, she thought, even as she said a quick prayer for Rennie. What she thought was, I’m gonna have a grandchild, Lord, but Rennie needs her own child.

  As she and Rennie chatted about this and that, Molly felt like she was sort of coming to pieces but that she was only doing it halfway, which seemed in some way worse than if she could just give in to it all the way. She never could seem to go all the way with anything. She always seemed to have to hold back. Always fearful of losing control. There seemed to be some brake deep inside herself that was always on guard, lest she go too high, too hard, too far.

  She wished she could just let loose sometimes, step over the line and damn the consequences, but those times when she even went up to the line she scared herself, she thought, remembering breaking the plates and Tommy Lee’s shocked face.

  Fayrene had just brought their dinners when Walter came rushing over. “Molly.”

  He didn’t say anything more for a minute, just slid into the booth beside her and seemed to catch his breath. Then he said hello to Rennie and sat there another minute, bouncing his legs. Molly didn’t press him about whatever was on his mind; she always felt Walter pressed himself enough. She asked him if he wanted to order lunch, or at least a glass of tea.

  “No . . . no, I’ve had lunch,” he said, folding his arms on the table, then straightening again and smoothing the back of his hair. It was thin and fine. Everything about Walter was thin and fine. Molly had always thought he should have been a composer, or a nurseryman, something that allowed him to be by himself a lot. She’d seen Walter sitting alone in his den, and he seemed happ
y then.

  He looked at her and sort of blinked, and Molly remembered she was still wearing her sunglasses. She started to take them off, but then Walter went to talking, so she left them on.

  “Orville Gibson and his brother quit work on the water tower,” he said and pulled at his ear. “They got a job doin’ oil tanks, workin’ on a whole dang refinery down in Texas, and Orville says he can’t get back to the water tower until fall. He just isn’t gonna come back, Molly, and he isn’t gonna give back the town’s deposit, either. He says he doesn’t have it. What are we gonna do? Jaydee thinks we ought to sue. Jaydee told Orville we would, but there just doesn’t seem to be any way to scare Orville. We gotta get that water tower painted. There’s dirty words on it. We can’t let that stay."

  “Of course Jaydee wants to sue,” Rennie put in. “He went to college to learn how to sue.”

  Walter glanced at her and seemed to sink down into his shirt. Molly cast Rennie a frown. “The town isn’t gonna sue, for heavensakes,” she said. “Talk about a waste of taxpayer money. It’d be easier to get blood out of a turnip than money out of Orville Gibson. He has six children. Just call Dave Hawkins and see if he can send a crew over to get started. I’ll call Orville and talk to him. He can work out the money on down the road. He’ll do that.”

  “Well, that was grant money the town paid Orville, money meant for the Main Street Project. Gov’ment money,” Walter said, as if it came from God. “They could hold us accountable.”

  “Oh, Walter, the federal government doesn’t have time or manpower to go around checkin’ every small town to see how the money is spent. They don’t really care how the money is spent.”

  “Well, I guess that’s so,” Walter said, smoothing his hair.

  Fayrene set a glass of ice tea in front of him as she whizzed by. Walter’s eyes went wide, and he started to call to her. Then Rennie handed him the sugar, and he stirred some into the glass.

  Molly touched his arm. “Don’t worry about the grant money, Walter. When Orville is out of work, which is bound to happen, we’ll get him to paint the swings at the park, and that will mean the money is being spent as it should on improving our downtown. That’s all that matters."

  “But where do we get the money for a deposit for Dave Hawkins? He wants a lot more to do the job than Orville.”

  “Don’t worry about it, hon,” Rennie said. “Molly will take it out of your salary.”

  Walter looked confused. “Well, I don’t really get a salary.”

  Molly smiled. What she liked about Walter was that he was one of the few truly good and generous souls in the world; he accepted a small expense allowance from the town but not a salary. He said he didn’t need the money and the town did. Also, Walter never felt worthy of a salary.

  She said, “I’ll adjust the capital improvement budget, Walter. Nip here and tuck there. We’ll make it.”

  His fine face softened some. “Okay, if you say so.” For some reason Walter had total faith in Molly. Rennie always said that if Molly said it would rain in ten minutes, Walter would go get an umbrella.

  Rennie was grinning an amused knowing smile, and then Molly saw her gaze shift and her expression change. Curious, Molly followed Rennie’s gaze. She saw Woody Wilson entering the cafe, with Tommy Lee right behind him.

  Molly jerked her face forward, looked again at Rennie, and then looked back at Tommy Lee, even though she hadn’t intended to.

  Walter was saying something and Molly had to ask him to repeat it. She tried focusing on him, but her gaze slid past and over to Tommy Lee.

  Walter said, “I’d better speak to the other council members and get their okays before I call Dave Hawkins.”

  Molly watched Tommy Lee remove his Summit Racing Equipment ballcap, saw his dark hair, saw him cast a quick grin and nod to someone who spoke to him. He glanced around the room, and then his eyes lit on hers. Oh, Lord. She looked away to her glass of ice tea and took it up. Would he come over?

  Walter had seen Tommy Lee then, and he cast Molly a furtive glance.

  When Molly looked back across the room, she saw Woody and Tommy Lee stopped at a table of men— Jack Prickett and D.W. Leander were two of them.

  Tommy Lee spoke to them, but his eyes strayed to hers. A number of faces turned her way.

  She pushed her plate away, lifted the sugar container and dumped more into her half-empty glass of tea. It occurred to her that Tommy Lee couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses.

  “You don’t have to hire Dave Hawkins,” Molly said, facing Walter but with her eyes on Tommy Lee.

  “Well, who would I hire then?”

  “Oh . . . there’s others.”

  Tommy Lee was looking at her again, standing there with his hand on the back of Jack Prickett’s chair and looking across at her. She looked at him. He looked tired. His eyes were hard.

  Then Molly turned and snatched up her purse. “Would you excuse us, Walter? Rennie and I need to visit the ladies room. Rennie.”

  “Well . . . sure,” Walter said, rising to let her out of the booth. He had no choice but to move or be shoved onto the floor.

  Rennie looked surprised, but she scooted out of the seat, pausing to get a final gulp of ice tea before following. Molly headed on to the ladies room. She had the sensation of Tommy Lee’s eyes on her back, which she told herself was just plain silly.

  Rennie slipped into the small room behind Molly and closed the door. “Why am I in here with you, Sissy?”

  Molly looked at Rennie, and Rennie looked back.

  Molly said, “I don’t want to go out there with Tommy Lee there.”

  “Well, we could have left.”

  Molly shook her head. “I couldn’t walk past him and not speak.”

  "Oh."

  Molly sighed and raked back her hair. She leaned close to the oval mirror above the sink. She thought she looked a little wild. Why in the world hadn’t she just gone out past Tommy Lee? She was a grown, competent woman. She could speak to him.

  “I just don’t know what to do, okay, Rennie?” Molly felt tears rising up into her throat. “I just . . . oh, I don’t know. It just hurts so bad.”

  “I wish I’d brought my purse,” Rennie said. “I need a cigarette.”

  “Peek out there and see where Tommy Lee is.”

  Rennie looked startled but then turned and peeked out the door. “Him and Woody sat down,” Rennie said, her eye in the crack of the door. “Tommy Lee took the side where he’s facin’ this way—and I think he’s watchin’ me peek out this door.”

  Molly pushed the door closed and leaned against it. Lord, she felt stupid. “Where are they sittin’?”

  “At a booth near the door.” Rennie looked at her with concern. “Sissy, if we wait for them to eat and leave, we may get a line forming outside.”

  After long seconds, Molly’s gaze met Rennie’s. And then Rennie began to chuckle, and Molly had to, too. Her chuckles were close to tears.

  She stepped to the window and put her hand to the lock. She didn’t expect it to move; usually the locks on old wooden windows were too coated with paint to move, but this one did. She shoved up the window and felt the heat hit her in the face.

  “We can get out this window,” she said, pushing her thumbs on the screen hooks.

  Rennie’s eyes went wide. “You want to climb out the window?” Then her lips twitched into a wry grin. “Why, Sissy . . ."

  They turned the metal wastebasket upside down and used it for a stool to get high enough to reach the window. It wasn’t a very big window, and they had to squeeze through, then drop to the ground. It was tougher for Molly because she went first. She had to work not to fall on her head in the gravel and weeds of the back alley. It was made even more difficult because she had truly begun to laugh. She thought that what she was doing was right up to the line and quite possibly a little over.

  They speculated as to what people would think, should they be caught. Rennie had left her purse in the booth, and they hadn’t
paid their bill. Rennie kept saying she couldn’t believe Molly would do this but that she herself had done it before.

  “I went out the bathroom window of Country Joe’s Bar and Grill down in Fort Worth . . . and I was gettin’ away from a man, just like you are now,” Rennie told her. “Only the window was a lot larger and closer to the ground.”

  “If you have that much experience, you should have gone first,” Molly said, as she helped Rennie to turn on the narrow sill.

  “This is good for you, Sissy. This sort of thing gets you out of your doldrums. Dang, that hurt my ankle.”

  Molly reached out to steady her sister, and then they were looking at each other and chuckling.

  Molly shook her head and breathed deeply. “Oh, Rennie. I feel so crazy.” She gestured at the window. “I mean, climbin’ out a window all because I’m terrified of seein’ Tommy Lee.” The tears came suddenly. “And what I really wanted was to see him. Oh, Rennie, I’m so messed up.”

  Rennie put an arm around her shoulder. “I know, Sissy. . . . I know.” She kissed Molly’s warm, sweet-smelling hair and squeezed her close, whispering, “It’ll be okay.”

  But she wondered if it would. Sometimes people just did the silliest things, and some heartaches never did heal. She knew that only too well.

  Molly said, “Your purse is still in there . . . and we have to pay the bill.”

  “My purse isn’t goin’ anywhere and neither is the bill. Let’s go on down to Blaine's and get a Coke. I’m thirsty after that barbecue—and all that climbin’.”

  Arms around each other’s waist, they started down the alleyway. Sprinkles began to fall, and they looked upward to see a cloud right over them while the sun still shone.

  Chapter 12

  That’s As Close As I’ll Ever Get To Loving You

  Sam Ketchum slowed as he passed Molly’s office on Main Street. He was driving his brother’s Bronco, and it kept threatening to die. He shifted into neutral, so he could press on the gas and keep the idle up. Because of the blinds on the big window of Molly’s office, he couldn’t see if she was in there.