Some Time to Kill

What was with this woman and cheddar? "Yeah, whatever you think is good will be fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Both of you."

As I left I wondered where that came from. I usually remained very hands-off and my employees saw me as a nuisance or someone to put to work. Going next door to the market, I grabbed a big wicker basket and some high-end chocolates. Grace, the manager, marked the items down and zeroed them out of the inventory.

"Going on a picnic, boss?"

"Maybe. Hopefully."

"Nice weather for it. Enjoy."

"Thanks. Listen, find a day next week where you can clear your schedule. I want to sit down and discuss the business."

"Sure. Anything wrong?"

"No, I just... I want to get more involved."

"You sure? Our numbers are strong."

"Yeah, this isn't a bad thing. I just don't want to be so uninvolved."

"Okay. I'll get back to you, but Tuesday looks good."

I was back at the restaurant the following morning. Cheryl had the food waiting and took me off to the side while she packed the basket.

"He's not going to say anything, but he roasted the chicken himself."

Nodding, I looked around the kitchen. Arthur was at the prep station talking to staff.

"Thanks. Sorry about yesterday."

"Don't be sorry, Tony. You never bother us at all and some stuff for a picnic is ridiculously easy. He's just... He has an attitude sometimes, but he's a good guy."

"Yeah, thanks."

"No problem. Have a great picnic and enjoy the cheddar."

"I always do."

The basket was in the passenger seat next to me as I sat in my car summoning my courage. Finally pulling into traffic, I drove over to the building Lindsey's firm rented. The basket went into the backseat and I got out of the car. Pulling down my black mock-turtleneck, I looked around. It was a nice building, professional without being austere. I brushed off the charcoal grey slacks and headed inside.

"Hi. I'd like to speak to Lindsey, please."

"And you are?"

"Tony. It's a private matter."

"Oh, Tony. Um, she's going to be in meetings most of the day."

I gave her my friendliest smile. "Thankfully I cleared my schedule. I can wait."

Grabbing a magazine, I sat down in their lobby.

Twenty minutes went by before the receptionist approached me. "Sir, unfortunately, she won't be able to see you today."

"She sounds busy. I'll just hang out in case one of her appointments cancels."

"They won't."

"Maybe they will."

"Sir, do I need to call the police?"

"Sure, give them a yell. You might want to tell Lindsey that I'll leave if she gives me five minutes. Or call the cops, your choice."

A few minutes later I saw Lindsey walking towards me. She was as beautiful as always, even as angry as she seemed.

"You don't take hints, do you?"

"Most of the time I do. Even the slightest of hints. I'm trying to change that. Look, talk to me. If you have an actual conversation with me, not only will I leave but I'll never call you again."

Frowning, she shook her head and checked her watch. "The park across the street. You get fifteen minutes."

The smile didn't work on the receptionist, but I tried it again. "Fifteen minutes. Got it."

Grabbing the basket, I headed across the street and found a bench. Lindsey joined me a few minutes later.

"Okay, your fifteen minutes starts now."

"Can you tell me what I did wrong?" I asked as I pulled out the pint containers of soup and the plastic spoons. "Did I say something or push you too hard that night?"

She looked at the food and then back to me. "You brought a picnic?"

"Um, yeah."

"A bit optimistic, huh?"

"Yeah, maybe. You've got to eat, it may as well be good food."

Lindsey took the soup and popped the lid. "It's not you or anything you did."

"Okay, so what was it?"

She seemed sad and accepting. "Me. It was me. There are things you don't know. I'm not... Look, there's a reason why I don't date, regardless of how I feel about someone."

I waited hoping she'd elaborate, but there was nothing. I enjoyed some of the soup before continuing.

"Can you explain that to me?"

"You want the truth, Tony? Okay, here it is. The night I came into your bar I was going to kill myself. It was the anniversary of my husband's death. Ex-husband, I guess. He died in a car accident."

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" She let out a short, sad bark of a laugh and it was then I could see how much this conversation was costing her. "He was drunk, Tony. Totally, absolutely drunk. We're lucky he didn't take anyone else out with him."

"That's not your fault."

"Really? It was my fault. It absolutely was my fault. I wouldn't marry him until he gave up drinking, and he did. He was totally sober while we were together. Completely. We were married four years when he found out I was cheating on him. It happened three times with a partner at my old firm. It destroyed him. I destroyed him. The man I loved most in the world. We tried counseling but it didn't help. He divorced me and dove back into the bottle.

"Three years later he was dead and a year after that you stopped me from finding a cheap way out of my pain. I'm not upset. I don't deserve an easy way out and I certainly don't deserve to be with anyone else. How could I do that to another man?"

Her voice was dead and emotionless. Lindsey stared straight ahead as she spoke.

"That's... You haven't been with anyone else since the divorce?"

She shook her head.

"Don't you think you've punished yourself enough?"

"What's enough, Tony? He's dead because of me. I loved him and yet I destroyed him."

"You've paid your penance. I'm not in your shoes, I get that, but maybe you need to move on, if that's possible? Maybe that's the wrong phrase. Get past it or accept it but keep living? I don't have the right words, but... I don't know."

"How? How do I move on? How do I stop seeing images of him whenever I close my eyes? How do I ever put myself in a place where I can do that to someone else?"

It took me a moment to choose my words. "One step at a time, that's how you do it. Lindsey, you have to know it would never happen again. You've been punishing yourself for years."

She had that sad smile again as she checked her watch. "I have to get back. I'm sorry, Tony. I really am. You deserve better."

"Wait, have dinner with me on Friday."

She shook her head. "This was it. Our last conversation. I feel better, I owed you this. Thank you. You were a bright light in a grey life. You're a good man, Tony. You'll find someone or they'll find you."

"Lindsey, don't do this to yourself. It doesn't have to be a date. Let's just get together to talk."

"Goodbye, Tony."

She began to walk away but turned back when I called her name.

"You can call me. Whenever you want. I... Call me."

Lindsey shook her head, gave a little wave, and walked back to her office.

The distinguished-looking man from the soft opening was Walter Preston. When Carey told me that he was dating Mom I nearly fell off my chair. He owned a real estate firm that did business in Sacramento, San Francisco, and Davis.

Mom and Walter, Jake and Carey and Phil and Evy represented us at most business-related events. I backed off when I realized Lindsey was truly gone. I started to get an itch to do something big. It felt like I was coming out of my shell, there was a burden that was still there but was much lighter.

Carey and I still donated monthly to the Jed Foundation and I decided to host a fundraiser for them at the new restaurant on our six month anniversary. I had the money. With the rental properties, the bar, the market, and my piece of the restaurants, I was very comfortable.

We moved Arthur to the new place and promoted Cheryl to chef de cuisine at the old restaurant. She took to it like a duck to water. I'd see her some mornings at the farmer's market, shaking hands, checking out produce, and placing orders. She was in her element. Accompanying her was a cute dog. She'd boil off bones for the dog after breaking down carcasses and take them home.

The bones were often larger than the dog.

I sat with her and we worked out the menu for the fundraiser. She was concerned when I put her in charge, but I needed to find out if she could handle it or if she only excelled under Arthur. I shouldn't have been concerned. The more I asked of her, the brighter she shone.

Mom knew that Carey and I were involved with the Jed Foundation because of Kevin and became involved in the event. She became our spokesperson, and for the first time ever, she started speaking to people aside from family about Kevin and mental illness. Walter always seemed to be with her, supporting her and standing by her side.

I was at the bar going over numbers when the night manager yelled back to me. "Tony, call on three."

It felt weird to use a landline, but I picked it up. "This is Tony."

"Is... Is it too late to buy tickets?"

I smiled. "If I had to, I'd print more. How are you, Lindsey?"

"Nervous."

"Yeah, I get that. How many tickets do you need?"

"How many to a table?"

"Six."

"I'll take twelve."

"Are... Look, I appreciate it and the phone call. More than you can imagine. Are you coming?"

There was a long pause. "I'll be there."

And she was. Carey and I were insanely busy and the event was a tremendous success for both awareness and raising money, but nothing matched seeing Lindsey walk through the door. It was electric. She was hesitant and skittish, but she was there.

A week went by before I called her.

"Hey, I don't know if this is out of place. If I shouldn't have called, tell me, but, um, I was wondering if you might want to come to a game on Sunday and maybe go to a bar with us after the game. Mom and Carey are coming."

"One of your softball games?"

"Yeah."

"I thought... Carey said she's never been to one, that you liked to keep them private."

"I'm trying to change. I'd really like it if you could be there."

She was quiet for a moment. "Send me the time and address?"

Popping out of my seat, I tried to keep my voice even. "Sure. I'll see you then."

"Tony?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for calling."

I smiled. "You bet."

We were both ready to try to move forward and I couldn't think of anyone I'd prefer to move forward with.

With profound thanks to the Alimony Accosters for their support and feedback. Additional thanks to Nora, Mark, Cheryl and Charlie for the editing. It should be noted that Mark helped substantially in the development of this story. I'm grateful for his time and insights.

The Jed Foundation isn't fictional. They do amazing work in helping teens and young adults who are at risk of suicide and self-harm. If you or someone you know could benefit from their assistance, please consider reaching out. www.jedfoundation.org

My appreciation to Brad, Jerry, Adam, Andrea, Mr. Z, Leon, Phillip, Zachary, Laurence, and Ken for their generosity