Frozen Assets

by Lee Schultz

  I was a little early, which is my usual practice - I always leave myself enough time to change a tire if I have to. I was trying to decide where to sit when someone took my hand. I looked up into Nate’s face. I don’t want to admit how glad I was to see him. Okay, I admit it.

  Without a word, he led me to a couple of seats near the rear of the gym.

  "Aren’t you going to sit with the rest of the law enforcement crowd?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I’ve had about as much law enforcement this last couple of weeks to last me a lifetime."

  I didn’t resist when put an arm across my shoulders and pulled me closer for a moment. Pheromones and Irish Spring. I idly wondered if he knew what a combination that was.

  I was fine through most of the service, through the droning of the priest and the hymns sung by the choir from Pace’s church. During all the years I had known him, I hadn’t been aware until the choir director mentioned it in his remarks, that Pace had a fine baritone singing voice which he lent to the choir whenever he could.

  I lost it when a bugler from his old military unit played taps. So did everyone else.

  After a funeral procession to the cemetery which took the better part of an hour to go two miles, where people were on hand to wave cars to parking areas outside the cemetery, I wandered around the cemetery a little. I figured I’d let everyone who was in a hurry leave first - it was going to be a zoo and I wanted no part of it.

  Cemeteries are interesting places. I looked at family plots where you could trace the generations, each one in a particular place. I was moved almost to tears by a very small grave covered with a weathered stone It had a bas-relief rocking horse carved on it, with the words "Charity Zabriski, March 5, 1919-March 10, 1919. In the Arms of the Lord." I ached for the parents who only got to keep their sweet girl five days, and took comfort from believing that their God was giving her the love they weren’t allowed to lavish upon her.

  Gah. I was beginning to feel gloomier than the gray, sodden sky which any moment would open up and drench the world. I started to walk toward the cemetery gates, then saw Nate coming toward me from the right. He waved; I stopped and waited for him.

  He took my arm and we started walking to the gates. "Lunch?"

  "Mm. Man of few words today, eh? Sure."

  We went to his car and were one of the last dozen or so cars to leave the parking area. By the time we got to the Eatery, I was roaring hungry, and the fifteen-minute wait for a table didn’t help. I was ready to start gnawing on Nate’s arm if I didn’t get some food quickly.

  After we ordered, Nate leaned forward and took my hand. "Molly," he said, looking intently into my eyes, "maybe I’m seeing it because I want to, but I think something is happening with us. Wait," he said as I opened my mouth to speak, "let me finish. I’ve been a loner for a long time now. I’ve dated women, I’ve had a couple of them do their best to make a date into a relationship, but nobody has ever touched me. There’s something about you, I don’t know, I can’t really put it into words. We click, we’re on the same wavelength, whatever. Maybe you think I’m too young for you. Would you think that if the situation were reversed?"

  Before I could respond, he answered for me. "Of course not. It’s perfectly acceptable for a man to be with someone half his age, but let him be with someone older, and the snickers start."

  He squared his shoulders. "Well, I can handle the snickers and innuendos if you can. Now, before you start telling me all the reasons why it won’t work, I want you to know that I’m going to be gone for a couple of months. I’ve been asked to work with a task force that’s - well, never mind. I’m going to have to go to England for awhile - "

  I said "England, huh? That’ll be hard to take, won’t it?" I smiled. "I’m jealous.."

  "Anyway," he continued, "while I’m gone, I’d like you to think about it. If you can honestly tell me that I’m up in the night about something between us, I’ll go away and leave you alone." He paused significantly. "But I don’t think you can, can you?"

  I said nothing, thinking, my mind a confused whirlwind of thoughts. Finally, I could only look him in the eyes and tell him, "No, I can’t say that. What I can say is, it terrifies me. You’re upsetting my carefully crafted solo life, and rut though it may be, it’s a well-furnished rut. It’s a given, a known quantity. You’re, you’re an unknown. What if we try and it fails? What if you meet someone young and slim and beautiful who acts like you’re the only man in the world? What if - "

  He put up a hand to stop me. "I’ve met her. And married her. And divorced her. So put that one away and forget about it." He leaned forward and took my hand. "Just say you’ll keep the door open a little and think about it."

  I nodded. "I can do that. Two months?"

  "Yes. But it would be nice if we could email while I’m gone." He smiled. "I don’t really want to have no contact at all - it’s going to be a long two months as it is."

  I realized that the waitress had been standing there for who knows how long. We’d been so wrapped up in our little drama we hadn’t even noticed. When she saw that we’d returned to the real world, she smiled understandingly. "Some of that blackberry pie you like so much?"We looked at each other, and I said "Sure, why not, life is too short to pass up pie."

  EPILOGUE

  Because they felt I had been of some small help in destroying one of the largest gun-drug-and-illegal-alien runners in the midwest, the Feds gave me a heads up when the adjoining acreage came up for sale, and because it abuts my property, I had first right of refusal. I drained my assets down to pocket change, but I acquired another four hundred acres of, basically, wilderness, with a 40 acre lake fed by a small stream, and a nice cabin which wasn’t destroyed in the battle. I decided to do some renovations and move into it, and Rosie, who hadn’t been there for all the excitement, was delighted to stay in my old cabin, which was close enough that if she took a turn for the worse, it would be only a matter of minutes to get to her. I made plans to widen the ski trail between the two dwellings and eventually turn it into a driveable road. If the time came when Rosie didn’t need it anymore - I refused to think too much about that possibility - I could use it as a guest house when my kids came to visit.

  And at least Rosie wouldn’t be seeing bogeymen and dead bodies and scorched flooring every time she opened the door

  I hadn’t seen Nate for most of a year. His sojourn in England had been extended - I guess he was a hit with the police forces there - and we exchanged emails and phone calls. He didn’t push me, and I didn’t take the initiative. Much as I liked, maybe even loved, Nate, I couldn’t bring myself to the point of opening the door to a relationship which involved a lot of togetherness and vulnerability. Okay, I’m a coward. I plead guilty.

  As usual, the two parts of me were diametrically opposed. Half wanted more than anything to grow old (okay, oldER) with someone like Nate, someone to be a companion, a friend, a source of strength, someone to share sunsets and midwest thunderstorms, all the things which feed me spiritually.

  The other half said uh-uh, no way, I’m not sharing my space with anybody if it requires me to maybe change my ways a little, change is not a good thing, much less risking rejection by opening up to someone.

  One afternoon as I was sitting on a rock on the edge of the lake, I heard a car pull up. Not government issue as I’d expected, but, of all things, a silver Saturn Vue SUV. I had no idea who it was. I stood up and walked over to the car just as the driver door opened and Agent Nate Walker stepped out.

  The butterflies in my stomach stretched their wings and I was immediately conscious of my ratty jeans, holey-toed sneakers, and less-than-spiffy T-shirt advertising "Roll Your Balls in Crystal Falls." (That’s a whole ‘nother story.) When I’m doing nothing special, most of my clothes look like St. Vincent’s rejects..

  "Hey," he said, smiling warmly.

  "Hey yourself," I said. Jeezo petes, talk about lame. "Aren’t you supposed to be in Eas
t Jesus or somewhere?"

  He didn’t reply. He walked up to me and put his hands on my shoulders.

  I looked up at him. "Hey, I’m getting a crick in my neck here, looking at you."

  Quietly, he said "Molly, be serious a minute. You are like no other woman I know and I want to know you better. I missed you every day while I was in England. I wanted nothing more than to just bag the whole thing, catch the next plane, and drive up here to see you. This is not something I wanted to bring up in an email or a phone call. I want to spend time with you, grow old with you."

  I stood there, like an idiot, and my mouth was probably hanging open. I couldn’t tell because I felt like I had just been sucked up into the vortex of a tornado.

  Nate put his hands on both sides of my face. "Please say you’ll at least give me a chance, get to know me, trust me."

  I may as well have stuck my finger in a light socket - my whole body buzzed, my Committee was hollering "Watch it, he wants something!" "He can get any woman he wants, what does he want with a graying fatso!" "Relationships take work, you don’t want to get involved!" "Run awaaaaaay!" My head felt like it was shrinking and the world had shrunk down so that there was nothing in it except Nate, and me.

  I took a deep breath. "No commitment just yet?"

  "No commitment."

  "No telling me what to do or who I can do it with?"

  "None."

  "No leaving dirty socks on the floor?"

  He smiled and said "No dirty socks on the floor."

  I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Oh, what the hell. If I didn’t at least give it a chance I’d hate myself forever. After an eternity, I nodded. "Okay, but can we do this a day at a time?"

  In answer he brought his face to mine and gently kissed me on the lips. Warm, gentle, and full of love. We held the kiss for a long time. I thought mmmm, I think we might be onto something here.....

  I took his hand in mine and together we walked up the stairs, onto the deck, and into my home.

  Fade to black.

  The End