Five Minutes Late: A Romantic Comedy

by Rich Amooi

  “No.”

  “Oh yeah. They took away my license after I drove into the Guadalupe River last year. When I came to, I was down stream near the town of Milpitas, wondering how the hell a duck got in my car. They sure poop a lot, don’t they?”

  The man’s legs buckled and he hit the ground. Unconscious again.

  “This can’t be happening.”

  Cedric saw a light on in one of the buildings and pounded on the door. He stopped when he heard the sound of a siren.

  A cop got out of the car and approached Cedric. “What’s going on here?”

  A second car pulled up and the other cop checked the man on the ground.

  “I’m looking for help,” said Cedric.

  “That business doesn’t open for two hours.”

  “I was out for a run and found that guy by the tree, unconscious. He’s got Orthopedic Hyperness.”

  “Ortho what?” The cop noticed the cell phone in Cedric’s hand. “How come you didn’t just call 9-1-1?”

  “I did. My phone fell apart and died.”

  “All by itself?” The cop studied Cedric for a few moments. “We got a call reporting a sexual assault in the area.”

  “I didn’t see anything. And why are you looking at me that way?”

  “You seem nervous.”

  “I thought the man was dying! If you don’t believe me, I’m sure they were recording my 9-1-1 call.

  “Uh huh. Can I see some ID please?”

  “Shouldn’t you be helping him?”

  “We’re going to get him help, but what I need from you right now is some form of identification.”

  Cedric reached for his pocket and handed the cop his license. Unbelievable.

  The cop pointed toward the curb. “Please have a seat.”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Sit on the curb.”

  “It would be a pleasure.”

  Tofu obviously didn’t like how Cedric was being treated. “Arf. Arf, arf, arf.”

  “Sir, control your animal.”

  “Tofu, no.”

  Tofu stopped barking. Cedric sat down on the curb as the man in the Ford Escort returned. The Chinese man waved the first cop over and then pointed at Cedric and at the man on the ground. The cop walked back over to Cedric.

  “We have a witness who says he saw you fornicating with the guy by the bushes.”

  “What?”

  “He says he saw you kiss him repeatedly and then reach between his legs and fondle him.”

  Cedric ran his fingers through his hair. This can’t be happening. “I was trying to save his life,” he said, louder than he had anticipated.

  “Hey, there’s no need to yell. Now, I’m not a medical expert, but I’m smart enough to know you can’t save a man’s life by jacking him off.”

  Over a thousand good cops in San Jose and Cedric got one with an attitude.

  The unconscious man was awake again and talking to the other cop. Cedric jumped up.

  “Ask him.” Cedric pointed to the man. “He’ll tell you. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Calm down, sir.”

  “It’s true,” the man said, approaching Cedric. “He was trying to help me. I passed out. I tend to do that often.”

  The cop looked over the guy from head to toe. “Have you been drinking?”

  “No,” said the man. “I have a medical condition. Please, nothing happened here, I promise you. Please let this kind man go.”

  The cop glanced over to his partner who was just getting off the phone.

  “Dispatch confirmed he called 9-1-1, but was cut off.”

  The other cop just shrugged his shoulders. “Okay then.” He turned toward the chronic fainter. “You should consider wearing a medical ID bracelet so people are aware of your condition.”

  “I can’t,” said the man. “I’m allergic to metals.”

  “They come in plastic. Get one.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Cedric ran his fingers through his hair as the cops walked away. “I need a vacation.”

  “Sorry you had to go through that,” said the man as he and Cedric watched the two police cars drive away. “But thanks, I appreciate you being so kind, helping a stranger.”

  “You’re welcome.” Cedric held out his hand. “I’m Cedric Johnson.”

  “Owen Fitzpatrick.”

  Cedric eyed the tennis bag. “You’ve got a lot of rackets there.”

  Owen laughed. “I guess you could say I’m a tennis enthusiast. Some people say I have a racket obsession and that wouldn’t be far from the truth. You play?”

  “Used to. I played on the varsity team in high school. After that, not so much. Don’t even think I have a racket anymore.”

  Owen pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to Cedric. “I could always use another playing partner. Give me a call if you ever want to hit the ball around. You can borrow one of my rackets.”

  Cedric shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to stink up the court.”

  “Hey, don’t let the rackets fool you, I’m not that good. If you change your mind … no pressure.”

  “Sounds good. I’m curious, have you ever passed out playing tennis?”

  Owen laughed. “Surprisingly, no. And I hope I never do.”

  They said their goodbyes and Cedric turned to walk back home, since he now lacked the motivation to continue the run. Although, truthfully, he should get back anyway, since he had a long list of things to accomplish for the day

  As he walked with Tofu, about a football field’s length in front of him, he noticed a woman crossing the street, wearing a turquoise blouse, just like the one Ellie wore.

  Was that her? It sure as hell seemed like it.

  Funny, Cedric had the sudden urge to run again.

  He flew down the sidewalk with Tofu matching his speed stride for stride, like a champion show dog. He arrived at the corner where he saw her standing and—

  “Crap,” he said, looking around.

  She’d disappeared somewhere between the Starbucks and the library. Cedric let out a deep breath and looked in both directions again.

  He had his opportunity and he blew it.

  Chapter Four

  Ellie recalled her date’s profile as she waited in the lobby of the restaurant. Chuck “The Buck” was a recent transplant from Tyler, Texas, and a former bull rider and underwear model. He retired at the age of thirty-five and moved to the Bay Area just two months ago, looking to meet a California girl. He was honest and open in his online dating profile about what he wanted—just two things: to settle down and to have a family “pronto.”

  He’d decided the Bay Area was the perfect place to do just that, since it was home to his favorite company, Google, and because he’d read an article about the sexy, smart women of Silicon Valley in American Cowboy.

  As she waited in the lobby for him to arrive, her phone vibrated in her purse. Maybe he was going to be late. She pulled her cell out and looked at the caller ID. It was her brother, Derek.

  “Hey there. Anything important? I’m waiting for my date to arrive.”

  “You pissed away five hundred bucks from Grandpa Frank? That was guaranteed money in the bank.”

  Ellie switched the phone to the other ear and sighed. “I know, I know, but these guys are nothing like their dating profiles!”

  “You’re the pickiest woman in the world.”

  Ellie loved talking to her brother … even when he gave her crap. They’d been close ever since they were kids. Derek encouraged Ellie to move to Los Angeles to attend UCLA for her Library and Information Science degree. It wasn’t until he moved to Wyoming that they didn’t talk as much. Still, it just took a few minutes on the phone to make it seem like nothing had ever changed.

  “Am not picky,” Ellie lied.

  “Obviously you don’t want the promotion bad enough.”

  Not true. Ellie had been dreaming of being Branch Manager for years. “For your information, I still have tw
o more dates this week. That’s a potential thousand dollars. And I have to run, I see my date in the parking lot.”

  “Well don’t let what happened to you in the past affect what’s going on in your life now. Get Vlad out of your head and try to enjoy yourself. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Ellie disconnected and watched as Chuck slid out of his Cadillac Escalade Hybrid, sporting a classic cow-brown suede vest with matching chocolate and pearl crocodile skin boots.

  She tried not to judge him by what he was wearing—she didn’t like materialistic men—and wanted to give him a chance since he seemed so nice during their email exchanges and phone calls. She loved his accent.

  And he was gorgeous.

  One thing that did not make any sense was why this guy would choose International House of Pancakes as the location for their first date. Sure, Ellie loved IHOP, but for a dinner date?

  Ellie checked her watch. Right on time.

  She watched through the window of the lobby as Chuck swaggered toward the front door like a runway model. Confidence. She liked that. Upon entering the restaurant, he smiled.

  Ooh. Very nice smile.

  Chuck took off his black beaver fur cowboy hat and held it behind his back. “Hello little lady.” He ignored her outstretched hand and kissed her on the cheek.

  Ellie smiled. “Hi.”

  Chuck grabbed her hand and spun her around as he checked out her body. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, you certainly are a looker, aren’t ya? Even better in person.”

  “Thank you.” She felt dizzy from the spin.

  He seemed to be visually measuring Ellie, his eyes shooting back and forth from her left hip to the right. “And hot damn, you’ve got a body primed for pregnancy.”

  Ellie forced a smile, certain she didn’t hear him correctly. Must have been his Texas accent. She tried to think of words that sounded like pregnancy. Ecstasy. Leprosy …

  “Excuse me, Ellie, I need to use the restroom before we sit, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right here waiting.”

  “Thank you very kindly.”

  Ellie loved his manners. She loved his backside even more.

  “Nice butt, cowboy,” said Ellie, watching each cheek move in those perfectly fitted Wrangler jeans as he walked toward the bathroom. Left. Right. Left. Right.

  “Amen, sister,” said the hostess who was probably old enough to have a subscription to AARP Magazine.

  Chuck returned a couple of minutes later.

  “Okay,” said the hostess, smiling. “Ready?”

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you very kindly,” answered Chuck as he and Ellie followed the hostess to their table.

  They sat and immediately ordered their food and drinks. After chatting pleasantly about Texas, bull riding, cattle drives, boots, and of course, the weather, out of the blue, Chuck changed the subject to women and their reproductive parts. Ellie was ready to change the subject, but he kept firing away with the questions.

  Chuck scratched the side of his face. “So, you’re telling me that the uvula is not part of the vagina?”

  “The uvula is that tiny dingle ball hanging in the back of your throat. You’re thinking of the uterus. You thirsty?”

  Chuck grabbed the glass of Coke. “My mouth is dry enough to spin cotton.” He drank the entire glass and flagged down the waitress for a refill. When the second Coke came, he drained that one too. “Most women have enough tongue for ten rows of teeth, but you’re a quiet little thing.”

  Ellie smiled. “Sorry. It just looked like you had something on your mind.”

  “Well shut my mouth, you’re one smart cookie. If my mamma taught me anything, she taught me it’s better to keep my mouth shut and look stupid than open it and prove it.”

  “Sounds like your mother was wise.”

  The waitress brought their appetizer and set it on the table. “Okay, here you go, crispy chicken strips and fries and two sides of mayo.” She smiled and grabbed Chuck’s coke glass. “Another refill?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you kindly.”

  Obviously, they were not on the same page when it came to eating healthy. And how the heck did he stay so skinny eating stuff like this? She had ordered the whole-wheat pancakes with blueberries. His profile said he was a health nut. His choices today showed otherwise and she just couldn’t overlook that.

  Strike one!

  Ellie had difficulty keeping her eyes off the giant platter of cholesterol in front of her; it smelled so good. “Did your mother give you any other good advice?”

  “Oh yeah. She also said to always drink upstream from the herd.”

  She laughed and grabbed her orange juice. A sense of humor was a good thing.

  “But I’ve been beating around the bush, Ellie, and I just need to say somethin’ right here, right now. So here goes it. I like what I see, Ellie. A lot. And bottom line is … I’m gonna come clean. I mentioned in my profile that I wanted a couple of babies, but that’s hogwash.”

  Do it for the promotion. Do it for the promotion. Do it for the promotion.

  “Ellie, I wanna have … a boat load of babies.”

  She nearly spit up her orange juice. “Excuse me?” She wiped her mouth.

  “Babies.” He skipped the fork this time, grabbing a chicken strip with his hand and taking a bite. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Six to eight babies … minimum. Ten preferably. What’s the ratio of boys to girls in your family? I’d like all boys. I could have my own personal rodeo crew!”

  Strike two!

  She needed to amend her Three Strikes Law so she could give two strikes at the same time.

  “And it would make me happier than a gopher in soft dirt if you’d make them babies with me, Ellie. Pass the mayo please.”

  Ellie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She passed the mayonnaise to the gopher, who spooned some on his plate. He grabbed another chicken strip and a handful of fries, dipped them in the mayonnaise, and stuffed them in his mouth. The fries looked and smelled good, but Ellie had lost her appetite.

  He smiled, closed his eyes, and chewed. “Just like mama’s.”

  Chuck looked like he was going to cry. At least she now knew why he’d picked IHOP. The food there must remind him of his mom’s. That’s sweet.

  But not sweet enough.

  It looked like this cowboy was heading for strike three, within a matter of minutes. She felt it coming.

  “Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yeah, I came here to the Bay Area since I heard there were a whole hell of a lot of intelligent women here, like yourself. I want our children to be smart, Ellie. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  “Chuck …” Ellie forgot how to form complete sentences.

  “Please, call me Buck. And look … we all got pieces of crazy in us, some have bigger pieces than others.” He pointed a mayo-covered fry at her. “I’m not saying I’m all that and a bag of pork skins, but I can provide for us, Ellie, I can tell you that. I made a killin’ buying Google stock way back in the day so you won’t have to worry about nothing but staying home and making babies and being happy. And if you know your way around a kitchen, hey, a couple of hot meals every day wouldn’t be too shabby either. You know what I’m saying?”

  Ten babies plus he wanted her to cook for him every day. Right. Maybe in her spare time, she could work on finding a cure for cancer too.

  Strike three!

  Time for this cowgirl to saddle up and get the heck out of Dodge. Another five hundred dollar donation from Grandpa Frank down the drain.

  “That’s an amazing offer, Chuck.”

  “Buck.”

  “Buck.” She smiled, but instead of running this time, she decided to be honest. “Look, I think you’re a kind man, but I just don’t see myself having ten kids. Or even five or six. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting that. In fact, I think it’s wonderful you know what you want. But that’s not what I want.”

  Buck nodded
. “I understand.”

  “I’m going to go now, if you don’t mind. Otherwise, it may feel awkward.”

  “Sure you don’t want to eat?”

  “No thank you. You’re a good man and I wish you luck.”

  “Right back at you, Ellie.”

  As she walked down the street, she thought of her luck with men. Dick and Buck.

  Then there was Cedric.

  She chuckled as she replayed the scene from this morning over in her head: Cedric in his running shorts with those sexy legs, chasing after his dog. She wouldn’t mind if she ran into him again and—

  Bam.

  Ellie ran into a cement wall. She was disoriented and looked up. The cement wall had a face just like the man she was thinking about.

  Cedric.

  Cedric looked down at the woman who just did a face plant into his chest.

  Beautiful Ellie.

  He grinned. “We keep running into each other. Literally.”

  She felt her nose. “Yeah. I trust you were able to catch up with your dog this morning?”

  Cedric nodded. “He gave me a good workout.”

  Ellie smiled and Cedric felt a small thump in his chest.

  That’s it, he had to do it. No delaying, just ask her out. “I was wondering if—”

  “Ellie,” a police officer in uniform said, cutting off Cedric.

  Great.

  It was the cop from this morning.

  “Oh God,” Ellie muttered. “Vlad.”

  Cedric could see Ellie tense up, tapping her fingers on the side of her leg.

  Vlad inspected Cedric from head to toe. “The fornicator. You get around, don’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Ellie.

  “This guy was—”

  “About to leave,” said Cedric.

  Vlad stuck his hand in front of Cedric’s chest. “Not so fast. How do you two know each other?”

  He didn’t throw the question out casually; it was like Cedric was being interrogated. Cedric’s gaze dropped to the badge on his chest. V. Cunnings.

  “We don’t know each other, actually,” said Cedric. “We just—”

  “Good. Now you can go.”