Charley (30 page)

The contrast between the two of us was symbolic of the changing dynamics of the rejuvenated capital of Tennessee. Dr. Jackson, in his late 60s and with thick glasses, five feet five inches tall, portly, and dressed in the traditional tuxedo, was the perfect symbol of the past. Some said later I was the perfect vision of the future, a young and aggressive Southern businesswoman. I secretly relished the contrast. 

Turning to the audience, I warmly accepted their applause. PJ was standing with the rest of the room, but his face had that pasty fake smile he had at the bank on Thursday afternoon. I couldn’t read it … but I knew it was important. My remarks were brief. I thanked the Chamber, made a few comments about nothing in particular, and closed the evening.

As I made my way through the crowd of congratulators and well-wishers, the image of PJ, standing with the audience and forcing a smile, bothered me a lot.

Maybe I’m wrong. He is probably just tired.

My table mates stood and gave me another round of applauds, handshakes and hugs. I knew they would not let the party be over. “Why don’t you all come over to Jimmy’s? You know we have the best cheesecake in the country, better than New York’s best. Drinks and cheesecake on me, Okay?”

“Since when did we ever need an excuse to get free food and drinks at Jimmy’s?” Mayor Lopez boomed.

I called Ronnie to set up a table for us, and we noisily strolled the block and a half back to Jimmy’s. I will have to say, we are a party crowd. No one left the Bar until 1:00. As the last friend left, I leaned wearily against PJ. “I’m exhausted. Can we just go to bed now and mess around in the morning?”

“That’s good with me. I got up early today to do some work before catching the plane. I’m bushed now as well.”

I took his hand and led him up the back stairs to the apartment. Anyone observing the two of us would have thought we’d been married for years. We pulled off our clothes; mine as usual dumped on the floor and PJ’s neatly folded in the side chair. We brushed our teeth and finally fell into bed. I rolled into PJ and we snuggled against each other in our familiar and comfortable sleeping positions.

After a few sighs, PJ whispered. “I noticed you sat next to Bobby Wagner tonight. Is he the same one you’ve told me about? Your first conquest?”

“One and the same, why?”

“I noticed you two talking a lot, still some spark there?”

Laughing, I turned over to face PJ.

“Why, you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess a little. He’s a good looking guy.”

“PJ, he was my first real boyfriend. We started dating when I was fifteen. When he enlisted in the Navy, I found out there is more to a relationship than falling into bed every time you meet.”

“You mean like now?” PJ said and laughed uneasily.

I ignored his crude suggestion. “I moved on to College, but Bobby and I have always been friends, especially when he worked Randle’s murder.”

“Sleep together? …For old time's sake?”

“Frankly PJ, that’s none of your business. I’m getting tired of this questioning. Listen, I love you, yes …
you
, mutt! I’ve had other boyfriends but I’ve found my last one, so stop it!”

“Does Debbie know about you and Bobby?”

“I mean it PJ McCoy, stop it now.”

I was angry and scooted away from PJ. “Debbie was in my wedding. She and Bobby were dating when Randle was killed. I told you that was my business!”

After a brief pause, I poked PJ. “So, tell me about your conquests, lover boy!” I was ready to give PJ blow for blow if he chose to continue. He was shocked by my reaction.

“I’m sorry Charley. Mary Lou told me I was a damn fool and didn’t know anything about women. I guess I screwed up, didn’t I?”

PJ inched closer. “I really am sorry. I was way out of line.” As he slid to my side of the bed, he whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you stupid jerk.”

I pulled the repentant PJ the rest of the way back to me.

He gently rolled us over into our familiar sleeping position again.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Big Boy! You’re still a jerk.”

“I know.”

“Good!”

I woke up early and eased out of the bed. Dressing, I walked downstairs to the kitchen to start breakfast.  Shortly, I heard his feet hit the floor and tramp into the bathroom. Shortly after the toilet flushed, I heard a weak voice, “Charley, Charley,” and silence before he started down the stairs.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” I yelled playfully at him.  Coffee is on the counter. How do you like your eggs? When you get a chance, put some bread in the toaster, will you?”

PJ wiped his eyes and grinned. “Good morning, Ms. Howard.”

“What are you staring at?” I replied, curious.

“You! I’ve seen you naked, in gym sweats, in a business suit, an evening gown, and now in a frumpy old housecoat.”

“And?’

“You are still beautiful and sexy, no matter how you’re dressed!”

“Or undressed? Thank you sweetheart, I needed that!”

PJ slid around the stove, circled his strong arms around my waist and began kissing my neck.

“Stop it Big Boy, the skillet’s hot; enough time for messing around later. Now, how do you want your eggs?”

“Okay, later.” Picking up his coffee he replied. “Three over easy if you can.”

“Whoa there … if I can? Did you just say
if
I can? Honey, I can do
anything
I put my mind to. Three over easy, coming straight up. Get that toast ready please. The jam and butter are in the big freezer in the corner. We can eat at one of the tables over there in the other corner. And come and get the bacon. I’ll bring the rest out as it’s ready.”

PJ sipped his coffee and leaned against the study prep table behind me.

“Good coffee.”

“Thanks … now tell me, sweetheart. What did Bob Wells want to talk about last night?”

“Well the short version is … he offered me a job at his station.”

“You’re kidding, that’s wonderful! Doing what?”

PJ hesitated for a moment. “He wants to build a top notch sports presence for his station, using me and my reputation. He wants me to cover the area pro sports teams, as well as doing some on air time with a sports show. If that weren’t enough, he wants me to have a regular column in their Sports Tomorrow magazine. He seems to have some rather ambitious plans.”

I dropped the eggs in the skillet and tried not to show my excitement. “What kind of money is he talking about?”

“We didn’t talk money, but he indicated he was prepared to pay me a lot more than I could make coaching.”

As PJ continued talking, I brought the eggs and more bacon to the table and sat them down in the middle. PJ reached for his three over easy eggs and a couple of slices of bacon. I asked an obvious question.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I would have to think about it, and talk it over with you before I did anything. He understood, because he indicated he had some time before he needed a decision.  Obviously, if I were to take the job, I would need to inform Curtis, and I would certainly want to complete the season. He understood that also.”

“PJ, what do you think?”

He looked somewhat pensive.

“Charley, I don’t know. I know that I really enjoy coaching. And I’m good at it. Dr. Underwood told me that two basketball programs had asked him for permission to talk with me about their program. And, a major SEC school has already called and we’ve spent several hours on the phone. Next week, I’m scheduled to meet with them on their campus. They have a strong basketball tradition, and put a lot of money into the program, including paying the head coach well; more than I’m making at Curtis. I probably am not in the same league as John Wooden, or Dean Smith, or even Bob Knight, but I have a chance, with a little luck, to be mentioned in the same breath with them.”

This didn’t feel like it was going the way I expected.

He carried on with the justifications. “Coaching at major school would be a great cap on my playing career. It would be awfully hard to turn down that opportunity, regardless of the money involved.”

I guess I had that deflated look on my face, which also carried over into my voice.

“But PJ, taking Bob’s offer would give us a chance to be together all the time. We could be together every day and not on random weekends. We could start thinking about getting married … if … that’s what you want.”

PJ reached across the table and took my hands. After a moment, he looked into my eyes. “I want to marry you more than anything Charley … it’s just … I don’t know … I just don’t think this is right for me. It’s so different from anything I have ever done before. And it takes me totally out of coaching.”

His chair squeaked as he got up and came to kneel in front of me. By this time my eyes had started to water, and my lips tightened. He gently touched my bowed face, wiping away a small tear, and brushed a wisp of hair off my forehead.

 “Sweetheart, you are the love of my life. Why don’t you come live with me in Middletown or wherever I go?  We can be together. We can get married. Ronnie and Wilma have a good handle on running the Bar and you can still be involved by phone, email and even getting on the plane occasionally and spending time here. It really sounds workable, and we can both be satisfied.”

Sadly, I looked down at the earnest man at my feet. I took his hand, kissed it and held it to my chest. “You know I can’t do that PJ. I … I just can’t… I’ve worked too hard and given up too much to just walk away. If I were twenty-one again … I would jump at the chance. But I’m not twenty-one, and I’m tied too deeply to the Bar and to this community … it’s my home! I love being with you, but … I enjoy who I am here!”

PJ sank his head into my lap. I caressed his head and wept. “PJ, we both knew we came from two different worlds.  This is just the first time we’ve really talked about it.”

“I knew we had a problem, but I thought it would work out. Yesterday, it was confirmed. You were so happy to be out of that business deal, but when I stood back and watched you with Ronnie and Shelby, I knew you were not going to give up the Bar.”

“I am so sorry, PJ.”

“And last night, becoming President of the Chamber … well that sealed the deal. You’re locked into Nashville, and Jimmy’s. I tried to be happy for you, but … I was sad for us. I don’t know, I just don’t know, Charley.”

Damn you Randle, Damn you Jimmy, Damn you, Damn you. All I wanted was a husband and three children and a place in the suburbs, and all I got was a damn lousy bar hung around my neck.

I didn’t have any idea where to go from here. I pulled PJ to his feet and wrapped my arms around him. “PJ, I know you love me, and you know I love you. We can’t give up now! We’ll work something out.”

“I know.”

“But, please … promise you will think about Bob’s offer.”

“I promise.”

His voice said the right words, but his downcast eyes and sagging shoulders told me a different story. I knew now we were headed for a break up, as soon as the newness and excitement of our relationship wore off.

I had to keep trying.

“I love you,” I whispered. “Would you mind if I asked someone I trust to meet with us tomorrow before you have to leave? I would really like someone neutral to hear our problem. Maybe a fresh idea will come out of it.”

“Sure, sweetheart … anything. Anyone to help us would be okay with me. Who did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking of asking Pastor John to meet us after church. I think it might help, but if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”

His look told me he didn’t think Pastor John could help, but he said. “Charley, you know Pastor John a lot better than I do, so if you think he might have some insights, please call him. I’m for anything to keep us together. I can’t stand the pain of leaving you every time.”

I walked over to the wall phone and called Pastor John. PJ seemed anxious.

“Is he coming tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Pastor John Richards and his wife Mildred were frequent visitors to Jimmy’s. They had a problem with alcohol being sold, but they came because of the good food and our close friendship. When I called Pastor John and told him I had a problem and I thought his and Mildred’s advice would be helpful, he was anxious to accept the invitation.

Pastor John had been at First Church downtown for sixteen years. With his forceful preaching and compassionate concerns for the underserved in our community, he had transformed a respectable church into a mega-church. One of his frequent quotes was: ‘It is not important how many people you take in, but how many you send out.’

The Church supported twelve missionaries and was also the training for dozens of ministers to the deaf. All of this from a balding, five-foot nine-inch gray headed and overweight man who loved people. And he was my friend. Over the years, I have had serious discussions with him. He knew things about me no one else knew.

When he and Mildred came in, I rushed to them with a big hug. “I hope you both like steak; Lenny has some rib eyes just waiting to be put on the grill.”

We walked to the back of the Bar towards a table already set up. Wilma was there to find out how everyone wanted their steaks and get their drink orders.

Mildred noticed the table was set for four and immediately asked whether someone else was going to join us.

“Oh, the extra setting is for PJ; he’s the young coach I told you about. He’ll be here shortly. He flew in Friday but leaves this evening at 5:00. His things are at my condo, so he went back to get them.”

Wilma brought their drinks and salad, as well as a salad and a drink for PJ.

“Tell me Charlotte,” Pastor John began. “What is the nature of this problem that you were so mysterious about on the phone?”

“Since it involves PJ, I would rather wait until he arrives, if you don’t mind.”

Pastor John nodded and offered a prayer before we began.

Mildred smiled. “Charlotte, I love your new hair color. I don’t remember you ever being a blond. I’ve always known you as a brunette. Why did you change? Just get tired of the old color?”