Chapter 1

The older sister of my best childhood friend, Jim, had died far too young, at 65. She’d fought a hard, very long fight against diabetes, kidney failure, and multiple infections. Jim had given her one of his kidneys about 25 years before, or she wouldn’t have made it as long as she had.

We’d never been close friends, but we’d shared some of our childhoods and early teens, before the 2 ½ year age difference set us apart in High School. Dottie stayed sort of local, and I saw her now and again when she visited her parents, who still lived in the old house across the street from Mom’s.

Now, she was gone, and I was at her 11am visitation at the funeral home here in town.

I’d made the obligatory walk in front of the (closed) casket and given my condolences to the family (basically my second family in my growing up years), then walked on to give others their chance. In the back, I ran into a bunch of old friends from the neighborhood, and we started the usual reminiscing, and “whatever happened to’s?”. One of them was another close neighbor, Loren York (nee’ Stone), who’d lived two houses up from us. Loren was a year older, so she fell between Dottie, and me.

We’d never been particularly close as kids, since she ran in different circles, being an avid tennis player, who spent her summers playing and working at the tennis club, while I spent mine working at odd jobs, before getting a steady summer job in high school and college doing construction. I always kind of felt that she had a snobbish streak in her once we got to high school, so we stayed cordial, but cool.

Anyhow, she went one way to college, I went another. I came back home to a local job, she disappeared off my radar. It wasn’t until her Mom died, that I ran into her again. First at the visitation, and funeral where she greeted my like a long-lost cousin, then the next day when I was out in front of the house doing some yard work.

Loren and another gal I’d known slightly from high school (Susie Brown, who’d been a Majorette and hence unobtainable unless you played football). She was from Loren’s class and had also seemed a bit snobbish (although this may have also been a bit of “sour grapes” on my part).

In any event, they’d come to let Loren visit the old neighborhood, since the house had been sold after her Dad died, and her Mom moved to Texas with her brother.

They come over to where I was working and started up a conversation. I was amazed at how much more friendly and “un-stuffy” they both were, compared to my (likely somewhat unreliable 45 year old recollection).

We had a nice chat. I introduced them to my wife, and they went on their way.

The next time I saw her was several years later, at the first “all-class reunion” for our old high school. I met her husband, and we all stood around and caught up with old friends, including a bunch of the neighborhood “kids”. This time, I had the opportunity to really look at Loren. She’d changed a bit, mostly for the better in my opinion.

As a teen, she’d had pretty much the “resting bitch face” - sort of a mix of totally bored with “I’m hot stuff”. As a 60-ish woman, she’d lost that. She had an easy smile on her wide mouth. She’d filled out some too, from the skinny, flat-chested tennis player, to a handsome, nicely rounded matron with a decent bust and shoulder-length dark-blonde hair (with a little gray).

I got along well with her husband Bob, too. It was a fun, relaxing evening, reconnecting with someone I hadn’t really known well.

Eventually, the group at the rear of the parlor grew too large to stand in the aisle, and we moved to the lobby. People came and went, and I lost track of time, but soon enough, it was the end of the visitation period. Loren and I and a few others made our way outside and chatted a bit more. I realized that I was getting hungry, as I’d skipped lunch. I suggested that we all go get something. All the others begged off for one reason or another, except for Loren.

We decided to go to a local watering hole/lottery parlor, called “Cathy’s” which was just around the corner. Despite it’s origins as a lotto parlor, Cathy’s front bar was a nice quiet place for a drink, and some of the best bar food I’d ever had.

We took stools at end of the bar. The bartender came over and we both ordered draft. I got a Reuben and basket of rings, while Loren got a double-decker burger and fries.

“So Loren, where’s Bob?” I asked, after we each had a sip off our beers.

“He’s not here. I was at my niece, Tracy’s house in North Carolina, when I heard about Dottie. You know me, I don’t need much excuse to come back up here for a visit, especially since I retired. Bob offered to come up, but he’d have to cancel some gigs and it’s a long drive.”

“Yeah, it must be what 16-18 hours?”

“About that. You can shave off a little with two drivers, but we usually stop at Tracy’s and make it two days.”

“Are you staying out at Susie’s?”