LIFE GOES ON… and on… (Part 171s)
The problem was that I couldn’t
‘buy in’ at that moment. I’d called Elle before I left the bank to meet
with Dotty to tell her I’d be late. When ‘pressed’ by her I told her
I’d be home by 6:30pm… or 6:45pm at the latest. A glance at my watch
showed it was past 6:15pm and from the bowling alley it was at least 40
minutes. She was ‘primed’ and all set to listen to what I had to say so
it was definitely a let down for her. We left it that if she’d stay
late the next evening (it was a Friday and the bank was open until 6pm)
I’d be able to go over my thoughts with her. I closed by saying that I
hoped she had “tough skin” because some of it would probably be hard for
her to hear. The look on her face turned to one of determination and
she nodded her head that she understood. Getting out of the car she
ducked her head back inside and made the comment that Moira had told her
that I was a “caring person” and that I “could be trusted”. Flattering
words for sure but I wasn’t sure how to take them in this situation.
You
already know Elle wasn’t in the best of moods when I finally walked
into the kitchen. There was a rehearsal for the PTA play at 7:30pm and
it was now after 7pm. She really didn’t have to leave at that moment but
I’m sure she did to make a point. I was left to warm up my supper,
clean up and then wash the dishes. It wasn’t that big of a deal but I’d
just put in over 9 hours at work and was looking for a little ‘down
time’. While eating the phone rang and it was Jonesie, the town handyman
who’d been doing some work at the house next door. I’d asked him a few
times if he knew when the new owners of the house would be moving in.
He’d told me he didn’t but would let me know if he got any information…
and he had some. The project he’d been working on (building a deck on
the back of the house) had been completed and he hadn’t been paid so had
been calling the owner to find out when he’d get his money. The answer
he got was that he’d get it when they got there. He told me it was like
“pulling teeth” to pin them down when that would be… and it would be in
about two weeks, Memorial Day weekend. I thanked him for the call but before I could hang up
he hit me with a request. Jonesie was legendary around the school,
attending as many of the athletic events he could, helping out with PTA
fund raisers, supporting various extra curricular activities in and
around the school and volunteering on projects when he could. He wanted
me to help out backstage for the PTA play.
I know I’ve described
Jonesie in any number of previous posts. A ‘character’, for sure, but
also a really good guy. I think the answer I gave him was that I
couldn’t because I was baby sitting what with Elle in the play. He shot
right back at me that he knew my mother-in-law baby sat for us all the
time… because his wife played bridge with her a couple of times a week.
We bantered back and forth a bit and then I remembered Paula. She’d
agreed to come over when Elle had play practice and I had to work on the race car so she was an alternative. Jonesie kept on ‘pressing’ and I finally gave in when I
asked what it was I’d be doing. “Lights” was his answer and it would only be for three nights. He said he
couldn’t really explain it on the phone but as long as I didn’t have a
fear of heights I’d be fine and then he hung up.
During the
day on Friday I’d managed to tell Dotty to wait to come to my desk until
both Bret and Trish had gone. When she sat down she had a pencil and a
pad, just like I’d told her to. It’d been a fairly slow day and one that I
even got to run over to the stock broker’s office to see Lynda and
Ruthe who was back to work. I hardly recognized her as she’d lost
weight that she really couldn't afford to lose. It was kind of awkward. I’d
talked with her on the phone once and at that time she sort of thanked
me being there right after her husband had beaten her. I’d thought
about it a lot right after that day and wondered if she really ever saw
me there. But it didn’t really matter now because she was back to work
and, other than the weight loss, you wouldn’t see any evidence of the
beating. But, that was on the outside. Always a bit ‘off-putting’, she
almost seemed withdrawn as I tried to tell her how good it was to see
her again.
Dotty was eager to get started. I asked her to let me
have my say before asking any questions or commenting. That brought a
frown to her face at which time I told her we didn’t have to go through
with it and that I understood that hearing some of what I would say
might be hard for her to grasp. I remember her taking a deep breath and
looking down. I waited for a few seconds before beginning. I have
detailed notes but I’ll spare you most of it, concentrating on the main
points. I told her that the first thing she needed to do was get new
clothes. I told her the way she’d been coming to work was intimidating
the others. I told her she looked like she was going to work on Wall
Street. Observing her, she was straining to say something and I remember
putting my finger up to my lips to stop her. My suggestion was to just
look around at the others and to “dress down” picking out comfortable
clothes that still exhibited somewhat of a “professional” look. I also told her that
high heels were totally out of place. That was the easy part. When I
got into attitude I knew I was going to get ‘push-back’ but, again,
reminded her not to speak. Talking about clothes got only a slight push
forward on her chair. When I started in on how she was looked at by the others I
thought she was going to come right off the seat. I told her the way she
was being perceived was the main problem. Her manner of speaking was
that of someone who thought themselves to be better than others… like
she was talking down to them. Knowing that Hobie had discussed the fact
that none of the women had attended, let alone graduated, from college
and that, basically, was a problem for them in dealing with her. But,
she seemed to be adding to that by the way she dealt with them.
The
one thing I remember about this incident was that the look on her face
never changed. The furrows on her brow were as deep as I’d ever
(consciously) observed on a person. I talked for at least fifteen minutes straight. I
reminded her that none of what I told her was in the form of an order but was in
response to our conversation. When I finished I tried to ease the
transition to having her talk by asking if she wanted to take the
weekend to think about what I’d said, hinting strongly that it might be a
good idea. She started to say something a couple of times but ended up
agreeing that’s what she’d do… and asking if she could come in early
Monday morning to meet with me. When she stood up the sorrows were gone
and there was a hint of relief on her face. As she walked away from my
desk I had the feeling that she’d give serious consideration to my
comments. I hoped she would.
To be continued…
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