Jim continued deepening his friendship with Hattie and Mary. Each morning, he ate breakfast at the Sportsman, and each evening, he ate dinner at the Fisherman Hideaway. As the summer wore on, Hattie at the Sportsman Café grew fonder of the young man from Colorado. She sensed the loneliness Jim felt at being so far from home for the first time, and she was pleased at what he was doing for Charlie. She loved the old man, and worried about him. When Charlie came in alone, she heard him telling her dad, and the other fishermen about Jim. He praised the boy’s progress and his natural fishing abilities.
Charlie was obviously very impressed.
As Hattie became more interested in Jim, she had mixed emotions about it. On the one hand, she wished he wasn’t becoming quite so involved in fishing. She was afraid that he would become obsessed with buying a boat, and give up on returning to college. She had seen it happen too many times. In their conversations, Jim never wavered from his goal of starting back to school in the fall, however.
On the other hand, she wished he would show more interest in her than he did. She was afraid to express that to him, because she had vowed not to get involved with someone involved in the very career and interests she was trying so hard to break free of. Nevertheless, she watched for things she could do to please him, such as packing an extra free apple or a Hershey bar in his lunch. She began putting notes in his lunch box each day, wishing him well, or wishing him luck in his fishing.
Unfortunately, through gossip in the close-knit community of Winchester Bay, she learned that Jim usually ate dinner at the Fisherman Hideaway flirting with the bartender Mary, a shapely, gorgeous, blond woman. Rumor had it, Jim was sweet on her, and from the amount of time that Mary spent visiting with him, the feelings were reciprocal. There was even a rumor that she had invited him up to her apartment, something that she had never done with any other patron to the tavern. Jim had never asked Hattie out, or even for her phone number. How could she compete with that?
On those few occasions when the weather forced the Madilin and its crew to return to the shelter of Salmon Harbor, Charlie and Jim would drop by the Fisherman Hideaway for dinner and a beer for Charlie and iced-tea for Jim. Jim also introduced Charlie to Mary’s cream-pies. There they could relax, have a good meal before Charlie retired to the boat, and Jim found a place to park the pickup camper for the night. On his own, he had started going to the Hideaway to eat dinner and visit with Mary, rather than buy groceries and cook for himself. It was more expensive, but since he slept in the pickup, the only other expense he had, was an occasional tank of gas, and feeding coin in the washer and dryer at Windy Cove Campground.
It was on one such late Friday afternoon at the end of July that Charlie and Jim dropped by the Hideaway before splitting up for the weekend.
Mary, the bartender, looked forward to greeting them with a smile. Charlie’s had been a familiar face for the past three years she had worked there, and she had been fond him from the start. But, now, she looked forward to him coming in because of his partner, Jim. It was an awareness in her that she had never felt for any of the men close to her own age before. Jim likes my pie and my laugh. He doesn’t try to grab me, or undress me with his eyes. I can almost believe he likes me for myself, not my body. He comes in to eat, visits, makes me laugh, and does all that sober.
She put Pabst Blue Ribbon in front of Charlie and iced-tea in front of Jim. By now she could place Jim’s dinner order without asking. He seemed to enjoy her surprising him. She hadn’t picked anything he didn’t like yet. She always picked something simple, inexpensive and nutritious. She went to the kitchen and came back with a large bowl of clam chowder and fresh baked bread for Charlie. It would take longer for Jim’s dinner.
She leaned against the bar to eagerly hear how their day had gone while Charlie ate. “You taking care of yourself Charlie? Is Jim working you too hard?” she asked. She smiled at Jim.
“I’m beginning to catch up on my rest,” Charlie said between spoonfuls of chowder. “Chuck is running the boat by himself these days and making money for me while I doze and enjoy the ride.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Charlie,” Mary said. “I warned him to take care of you, or he would have to answer to me.”
Mary realized that Charlie had called him Chuck and looked at Jim. Jim winked at her and nodded slightly. Mary automatically picked up one of Jim’s hands and checked his callouses while Charlie finished his chowder. Her soft hands cupped around his cracked and chapped right hand. Her hands felt warm. Jim looked up into her face. The only time she ever touched him was to apply salve to his hands. They had many conversations since he had been at Winchester Bay and the evening he had dined with her. As she had done before, she put his hand down, went to the other end of the bar, got her little jar of salve and returned to Charlie and Jim. She gently began to knead salve into the chapped knuckles of his right hand, then his left and worked it into the cuts and callouses of his palms.
Charlie had finished his chowder and sat back. “Okay, Charlie, give me your hand,” Mary said. She scooped a little of the waxy substance and rubbed it into his palm, just as she had Jim’s.
Is this her version of holding hands? Maybe she feels safe in here, but not out when we are alone, Jim wondered.
She picked up Jim’s hand again when she finished with Charlie’s, and held it for a moment tightly in hers. A floor waitress tapped on the bar with an order. Mary laid his hand down and moved down the bar to fill the order.
Autographed copies of Incessant Expectations by Kenneth Fenter available at Arborwood Press or order from Amazon.com
Photos from Dreamstime.com
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