Friends? Chapter 16

   It's great to have friends but, once you get to know one another, it's almost impossible to hide anything from them. 

  For Chris, expressions have always been an Achilles heel of sorts. A reason, he'd always suspected, which accounted for why he lost at poker all the time.

"I recognize that glow!

"What?" Chris nonchalantly asked.

"You got the I got laid look," Marie laughed.

"No, I don’t."

"Yeah, you do. Don’t be ashamed, you needed to get laid worse than anyone I know Chris…well, besides me."

"You’re so classy Marie," Chris sarcastically quipped.

"That’s why you love me baby doll."

Marie’s tone turned serious.

"You’re not still gonna have dinner with Angela this week are you??"

"Shit! That’s right, I almost forgot."

"Well, I think it’s a bad idea, especially now," Marie warned.

 "What? Why?, Chris laughed. "I’ll have dinner, I'll enjoy my food, I'll make conversation and not over think things like you do; I can handle this Marie."

 "Then you better be honest with her and let her know off the top that it’s just friendly, nothing more," Marie cautioned.

"I don’t know why, but I worry about her; you think it’s possible to just be friends?"

"For you? Yes, for her, not so much," Marie replied.

   Chris drove to Angela's house to pick her up for dinner on Thursday after work. Standing in the front walkway for a moment before ringing the bell, he coached himself on every minute of a night that was about to be.

"OK, friendly conversation, nice dinner, more friendly conversation, make sure you come across as someone who just wants to be friends. Oh, make sure you open the car door," Chris mentally reviewed his dinner protocol.

   Redirecting his thoughts, Chris laughed to himself;

"What if Marie and Thomas are wrong? Shit!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "She may NOT be interested in me; problem solved," he convinced himself. "Yeah, that's it! We just hit it off because of the hospital thing, she thinks I’m nice, end of story."

   Chris played out the logic in his head as he paced the walkway. He reasoned that he and Angie were friends before their relationship and during the relationship; it seemed natural for her to be attracted in that sense.

  With that, he comfortably dismissed that he had clearly been over thinking this situation, as had Marie and Thomas.

  Chris paced in front of Angela's house, fully engaged in a back and forth conversation with himself as he nervously smoked a cigarette.

"OK…" he whispered, readying himself for dinner. "I’m gonna just play it cool and it’s gonna be a nice evening, no pressure."

"Besides," he breathed a sigh of relief, "she’s just being friendly, that’s all."

   Chris began redrawing the evening plans in his mind. He resolved to eat, have a pleasant chat and call Erin later; all set. Just be cool and maybe, he thought, he won’t even have to let her know this is just a friend night.

   Chris' mind was finally at ease, remembering Angela's tendencies and body language. She’s always been one to dress conservatively, unless she’s romantically interested. Whatever she's wearing tonight will be the dead giveaway, one way or another, he reasoned. 

  With another sigh of relief, Chris rang the doorbell, feeling silly for worrying so much. He shook his head with a laugh, waiting for Angela to answer the door.

"Oh, hey! Come on in," Angela cheerfully greeted.

  Chris felt his stomach drop to the porch, his heart raced and his mouth went completely dry. There she was, standing in the doorway. Chris stared for a moment, hoping that the expression on his face didn’t give him away.

  Angela stood before him in a tight, short skirt, low top, every hair perfectly in place and looking like a million bucks. "Fuck!" He screamed in his head.

  Chris nervously began to babble, "Sorry I’m late, my therapy session went long. I’m a real mess as it turns out and the psychiatrist thinks that I might need to triple my visits; I have commitment issues. Big mess in my head apparently…that’s why I’m a little late."

  Angela stared with a hesitant smile, listening as Chris rambled on.

"As a matter of fact, the doc wants to get started real early in the morning, so I can’t be out long." Chris blurted anything that he could think of which would immediately dissuade Angela's intentions for the evening.

   He now knew, by the way she was dressed, that this was anything but a friendly dinner to Angela. The date night emergency response team was needed, immediately, Chris thought.

  Angela seemed bewildered at Chris' unusual rambling, but politely laughed. "Well, I understand; my therapist thinks I’m a mess too. Come on in, maybe we can compare notes tonight. I‘ll be ready in a sec."

   Chris' tactic certainly did not have the desired effect. "Now she’s sympathetic," he thought. "Goddamn it!" He whispered to himself, staring at the ceiling while he waited for Angela to get ready.

  After ordering food, Chris and Angela began the small talk dance. The awkward moment which occurs on a date, somewhere between the drink delivery and the appetizer. This little social skills test is filled with useless conversation, punctuated intermittently by the waiter who refills glasses, politely asking if everything is okay.

"You guys need anything?" The waiter asked.

"Yeah, a bottle of arsenic, and here’s the car keys. Go get Marie AND Thomas and bring them here immediately," Chris mentally wished.

"No thanks, I’m fine," Chris politely replied to the server, looking over to Angela; "how bout’ you?" "No I’m fine, thanks."

   The waiter breezed away like a cat burglar, Chris thought. "Wait! Come back!!!" Chris pleaded in his mind. "Sit down, you’re not busy, talk to us or you're not getting a tip you son of a bitch," he wished, holding a nervous smile on his face.

"You seem a bit jumpy tonight, everything OK?" Angela asked.

"Me? Oh, yeah; I just got piled up with work today, my mind is a million miles away."

"Well, there’s plenty of time for thinking about work tomorrow," she assured with a smile.

   Chris was thinking about anything but work at this moment. His thoughts even bordered on the outlandish, wishing that he could excuse himself to the restroom where he might effectively construct a Star Trek transporter in order to beam out of this restaurant.

  Angela diverted his thoughts; "I do understand that it’s difficult to leave work at work sometimes."

"Yeah?" Chris slightly pried.

"Yeah. I’ve got this adorable little boy, Marcus, and I’m his family case worker," she began to explain.

  Angela is a family advocacy counselor for inner city children at a non profit organization where she regularly sees some tough cases.

  Government agencies in the family sector are overwhelmed, so non profits are left with the overflow. These case workers see situations that we all know about, things that we see on the news but tuck away. Problems that we try to ignore as we live in our bubbles. With a flip of the television channel, if we don’t see it, maybe it’s not really there.

 

  Day to day worries and stresses of life are not equal in our society if you ask a case worker like Angela. It's described as a world where parity does not exist between classes in America. You never know, it may be the person working right next to you at the office or the store or perhaps it's a dark secret, held tightly by the next door neighbors.

 

  A little short on rent money? Gonna have to take a hundred out of savings till it can be replaced with some overtime hours next payday. The car is empty; thirty bucks?? That’s outrageous! Of all days for the coffee maker to go out! Oh well, just stop by the department store and get another one tonight; maybe pick up a pizza on the way home too. Fifty bucks for the kid’s school field trip?? Guess there's gonna be no golfing this weekend.

 

  Mundane worries for many seem insignificant by comparison, while there are those who worry about their next meal. Savings account? What’s that? No money for the kids field trip or, if there is to be a field trip, it will take extra hours at work.

 

  By the way, the family car is an 80 seater, driven by a guy in a uniform; a city bus...Hopefully it will be on time today.

"Who’s Marcus?" Chris quizzed.

"I’m assigned to he and his mom, Patricia. They just got kicked out of their place because the funding was cut at their housing center. The state is trying to take Marcus away from her now."

Why?" Chris asked with concern and disbelief.

"She works three jobs and she’s taking a GED class so she can get a real job, with benefits. She had to let her deadbeat boyfriend, her baby daddy, take care of Marcus a few weeks ago. She couldn’t turn down the hours, she can't afford to turn down any chance to make money. So, she worked a double at one of her jobs."

"And that’s why they’re taking him away??" Chris didn't understand.

"No; the boyfriend got popped by the cops with a car full of thugs and a bunch of drugs, Marcus was with them, so, she’s being nailed as a neglectful parent.:

   Chris couldn't believe his ears. "Wait...she was just trying to do her job, and raise a kid," Chris argued with disbelief.

"I know. She works so hard to give Marcus a good life; usually they don’t know how they’re gonna eat. She sacrifices everything for this kid and she’s a good mom...now they want to take him away. Angela explained, staring at the silverware. "Anyway, we’re working with child services to convince them, but it’s not going too well, especially now that she’s not going to be able to provide a roof over the kid's head."

"That’s not her fault," Chris defiantly exclaimed.

"Yeah? Try telling that to 20 people in the chain sitting an hour away from here in Baton Rouge," Angela solemnly replied.

  Chris studied Angela’s face, thinking about how she seemed to be a much different person than he'd known. She held a degree of selfishness before, living in an unrealistic world; how is it that she’s changed? What happened? He wondered.

"I’m gonna pitch this, about the community center, to my boss. Maybe we can do a story on it," Chris offered.

"Anything would help," Angela assured. "The center is doing good work but they can’t afford to keep the doors open right now." Angela rose to go to the restroom, "excuse me."

   Chris watched as she walked away-- he sighed, staring at the floor.

   After dinner Chris and Angela took in a quiet stroll through Uptown, an area of New Orleans known for it’s quaint streets, eclectic shops and unique restaurants. A hidden jewel, long appreciated by locals, a favorite with the college kids and discovered only by tourists who understand that there’s more to New Orleans than Bourbon Street, beads, "to-go" cups and topless coeds precariously perched on crowded balconies.

   Uptown is New Orleans’ version of Georgetown in DC or The Highlands in Atlanta.

"Why did you come to the hospital that day?" Angela quizzed. Chris knew that he couldn’t honestly answer that question.

"I don’t know, it just seemed like you needed someone, I didn’t know if you had anyone to check on you to make sure that you were OK. Plus, after our little fender bender, I figured it was more than irony, perhaps a sign," Chris replied. "Maybe that sounds weird to you," he continued.

"Not at all," Angela assured, placing her hand flatly on Chris‘ arm. "The only person I have is my room mate; she’s a good friend, but she can’t baby sit me all the time. I don’t know, maybe you can relate, maybe not. No one’s really worried about me in a while," Angela continued, as if to be openly taking inventory of her life.

"I mean, my ex boyfriend cared for me, he was wonderful, but he’s not around anymore."

"Where is he?" Chris’ curiosity peaked.

"He’s a building design consultant and he got an opportunity to do a long-term project in New York, so, he had to move."

"You didn’t go…why not?"

"I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment," she replied, deeply in thought. "I'd just come out of a long marriage, so had he. He wanted to jump head first back into the pool and I didn’t."

  Chris gave in and decided to dig for a few personal thoughts that Angela might hold about their marriage.

"Was your ex husband a good guy?" Chris hesitantly asked.

"Yes, mostly. We just wanted different things; like I told you the other day, he’s got his faults. So do I for that matter, but he’s a good man; you kind of remind me of him. Don’t take that the wrong way. Does that make sense??"

"More than you know," Chris nervously assured, with a slight smile.

"Do you think he’s happy now? Your ex husband, that is," Chris asked.

"I hope so; he really needed to find himself and I suppose I did too. I don’t know, I think we both began our separation and divorce wanting to hate each other, wishing the worst for one another."

"And?" Chris curiously pried.

   Angela paused, searching her thoughts before continuing. "No matter what happens between two people, you can’t be human if you spend over 15 years with someone and not care about them after it’s over."

"You worry about him," Chris added. Angela stared at a street sign over Chris' shoulder before returning her eyes to answer. "Yeah, I do."

"Would you ever get back with him?" Chris asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…his heart is elsewhere," Angela quietly replied, shifting her eyes directly to Chris’.

"How bout you? Would you get back with your ex wife?"

"No," Chris replied.

"Why not?" Chris twirled a ring on his right hand with his thumb, a nervous habit. Erin had given it to him long before the break-up.

   After a long pause, Chris answered: "Because…my heart is elsewhere."

  Angela and Chris walked and talked for an hour. It was reminiscent of times that he remembered from early on in the relationship and it felt comfortable, thoughtful and sincere. Chris caught himself, holding fast at guarding his time where Angie was concerned. It was time to go.

"Wow, I gotta be at work early," Chris announced, looking at his watch.

"Yeah, me too."

"I’ll get you home," he said, opening her door.

   Back on Angela’s front porch, she and Chris exchanged goodnight pleasantries.

"I had fun Chris."

"Yeah, me too. I guess I’ll talk to ya’ later," Chris said, placing his hand on Angela’s arm.

"You’re an interesting guy Chris;" Angela kissed him on the cheek.

"I’m a work in progress," he shot back with a smile.

"Well, keep up the work I suppose." She paused for a moment, studying his face. "You must be doing something right," she teased.

"For a change," he quickly interjected. "I did have fun tonight Angela, take care."

  Angela watched as Chris drove away, thinking about the unlikely circumstances that had brought them together. She looked briefly to the sky before turning to go inside.


copyright, Pontchartrain Press 2008