The Letter - Chapter 8

I took a sip of my tea.  Beverly nibbled the end of her lady lock and smiled expectantly.

“Well, let’s have it Ellie.  Tell me what’s been bothering you.”

I took another sip of tea and sighed.  “OK.  I’m not sure where to even begin.”

“The beginning is a good place to start,” Beverly said.  “God, I love these pastries!” she said taking a bite.  “Sorry, please go ahead.”

“All right.  So I guess I was feeling a little lonely.  I mean, Jim’s death devastated me, but I thought I had dealt with it pretty well.  Then recently the loneliness hit me.  Jim Junior is a doctor living in Cleveland, the rest of my family is still in Pittsburgh and here I am living thousands of miles from anyone.”

“And I love you, too, neighbor,” Beverly snarked.

“Oh, Beverly, you know what I mean, and I’d absolutely die if I didn’t have you here.  But anyway, I decided to call Marnie, my sister in Pittsburgh, and cry on her shoulder a bit.  When I complained of being lonely, she immediately invited me to fly out for a visit.  I thanked her but told her the thought of Pittsburgh in January is not exactly making me run out to buy a plane ticket.  Then she tells me she heard that George Leskovic just went through a messy divorce, so maybe I ought to hurry out there before he gets taken by someone else.”

Beverly sat back in her chair and gave me a quizzical look.  “Who is George Leskovitz and why haven’t you told me about him before?”

“Leskovic,” I corrected.  Oh this is really ridiculous.  Back in high school he was in one of my classes, and I thought he was dreamy.  I used to write his name and I would try my name with his last name.  Eleanor Leskovic, I’d write.  Over and over.  He was kind of shy, but so was I.  We never talked to each other beyond something like, ‘You dropped your pencil.’  Crazy, huh?” I said with a laugh.

“No, I remember doing that sort of thing in high school.  So did you ever go out with him?”

“No, any romance existed strictly in my mixed-up teenage mind.  But of course, Marnie heard me mooning over him back then and when she recently heard about his divorce from a friend, she thought of me.”

“So that got you thinking about taking that trip to Pittsburgh?”

“Actually, it did make me wonder about him.  Then Marnie started telling me about what a star basketball player my nephew Jeff has become and that now is the time to come watch him play.  This is his senior year and the season will be over in another month or so.  So it’s now or never, so I tell Marnie, ‘Clean out the guest room, I’m coming.’”

“So when do you go?”

“Ha! That’s the part that gets really weird.  I was supposed to fly there last Thursday, and Jeff had a game on Friday.  So about a week before I’m scheduled to fly there, I start thinking about this guy.”

“Boy George?”

“Stop it,” I said smiling.  “Yes George from high school.  So I write a letter to him and invite him to come to the game and coffee afterwards.”

“Very nice.  I approve.”

“But then I started to get cold feet.  I mean, this guy is going to think I’m some kind of nut.  He probably doesn’t even remember who I am.”

“Highly unlikely, Eleanor.  You are an unforgettable woman.  This George probably started checking out diamonds online after he read your letter.”

“You’re such a loyal friend, Beverly.  Anyway, I had second thoughts about sending it, so I left it sitting on my desk for a day or two.  Then I woke up one morning just feeling confident and great and said to myself, ‘I am just going to send that letter and if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as me.’ So I stuffed it into the envelope, put a stamp on it and immediately walked to the mailbox on the street corner and dropped it in.”

“Good for you, girl. This is really sounding sweet.”

“Not really.  On my way back from the mailbox a thought hit me.  In my haste to mail the letter, I forgot to sign it. I don’t think I even put a return address on the envelope.”

“God.  What a disaster,” said Beverly drinking the last of her tea.  “But on the other hand,  it could still work out – maybe even better.  He’ll be intrigued and come to that game for sure to see who shows up, right?  Oh, but wait a minute. Did you just say you were supposed to fly there last Thursday? Does that mean you didn’t go?”

“You remember that big snowstorm that hit the Midwest last week.  My flight was cancelled because O’Hare was shut down and remained shut down until Saturday. I couldn’t go.”

“Ooo, Ellie.  I see now why you’re so upset.  If he showed up to see who came, nobody was there.  He either thought he was stood up or it was some sort of vicious prank.”

“Yes, and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

“Well, Ellie dear.  That’s what friends are for.  Put on another kettle of tea and let’s put our heads together and figure this out.  And you haven’t touched your lady lock.  Are you saving it for me?”

“Not a chance, Beverly.  Not a chance,” I said, taking a bite of the flaky, cream-filled pastry.   

The Letter - Chapter 7

This is so crazy!  I can’t believe I am doing this.  Snow was coming down hard.  The roads were wet, but they were getting slick as the snow started to stick.  I should be ok once I get to the main roads, but this looks like a pretty serious storm.  They’re saying four to six inches, but most of that is supposed to fall after midnight. I drove as fast as I dared given the treacherous conditions. What should have been a twenty minute drive looked like it might take forty-five or more.

And what kind of punishment should I give Jennifer?  I mean, what could have gotten into her to pick up my letter and then not give it back right away.  I do have to give her credit for owning up to her mistake before it was too late.  Of course, the way it’s snowing, it may already be too late.  I turned onto the main road and it was clear of snow.  Then I saw the long line of tail lights about five hundred yards up the road. 

“Shit!  Look at that line of cars,” I said out loud.  I gave the steering wheel a good whack. I considered turning onto a side road and turning on the GPS to help me find an alternate route.  No, I’m better off going the way I know.  Knnowing the hills of Pittsburgh and the way it’s snowing, I’d probably get stuck somewhere and never get there.  I saw flashing lights up ahead.  Just my luck.  An accident. 

I got in place behind the last car, hoping the accident would clear quickly.  I checked my watch.   Quarter to eight.  I tried to think.  How long is a basketball game anyhow?  Are there quarters and a halftime like in football?  If so, how long are they?  I tried to think back to high school – probably the last time I attended a basketball game.

“That would be a mere forty-five years ago,” I chuckled to myself.  It could be 8:30 before I get there.  The game might be over by then.  Anyway, what the hell am I doing?  Running off like some desperate school boy to see a woman that I haven’t seen in forty-five years.  And I don’t even know who she is. 

I looked at the cars ahead of me.  Cars were starting to move slowly.  Either the accident had cleared or the police were letting cars pass. 

She said we were classmates.  We had nearly 400 in our class if I remember correctly.  And she said we were only in one class together. How in the hell am I supposed to recognize her, let alone how will she recognize me?  People change in forty-five years.  Why would she write to me?  And not sign her name.  The only thing I can figure is she must be desperate.  Probably old, gray and weighs like 300 pounds.  Why else would she be trying to meet?  Her husband’s dead.  She probably drove him to the grave.

I passed the scene of the accident.  The car was on the side of the road, hitched to a tow truck.  No one appeared to be injured, thank God.  My thoughts returned to the letter.  Well, if nothing else, it piqued my curiosity.  Of course there’s that saying that ‘curiosity killed the cat.’  But no one is saying I have to marry whoever this is.  It’s just a chance to say ‘hi’ to an old classmate and chat over a cup of coffee.  And the way it’s snowing, we may have to take a raincheck on the coffee.  Or would that be a snowcheck?

I turned onto the road that would take me to the high school.  About another mile.  I looked at my watch.  Twenty past eight.  I hope I haven’t missed it.  I turned into the school parking lot.  Still full of cars.  The game must not be over yet.  I parked and ran to the school lobby.

“Is the game still on?  Can I get a ticket?” I asked the two students that were sitting behind a table in the lobby outside the gymnasium.  I heard a loud buzzer and the crowd inside cheered.

“Sounds like it just ended,” the female student with the frizzy red hair said.  We were ahead by 20 with a couple of minutes left.” 

Yeah, we creamed Steel Valley.  This will put us in first place,” said her male counterpart with the slicked back hair.

People started filing out of the gym.  I looked at the mass of people filling the lobby to see if I recognized anyone.  I positioned myself near the main exit thinking maybe she would recognize me and introduce herself.  The lobby slowly emptied until I was the only one there except for the custodian and the students that had been selling tickets.  I walked over to the students. 

“Hi.  My name is George Leskovic.  Is it possible that someone left a message for me?”

“You mean with us?” asked the kid with the slicked back hair.  “Not that I know of.”

“Me neither,” said the girl.  “I guess someone could have left a message with Cherry.  She sells candy at half time.  But she probably would have told me or Jared.”

“OK, thanks.”

“Hey mister,” said the red haired girl. “Here’s a schedule in case you want to come to a future game.”

I took the paper she handed me and stuffed it into my jacket pocket.  “Thanks.  Looks like the snow storm has taken a break,” I said looking out the glass doors.  “That’s probably a signal to all of us to get home while the gettin’ is good.”

I walked to the car.  The parking lot was almost empty.  I got in and drove back home.