Scene 4
Scene Four...Matchmaker
Time: Late evening, Friday, November 9, 1945
Place: Hospital hall and cafeteria
Storyteller: Janet
"Thank goodness we escaped." As I skip down the hall, my ballet bun flies apart, into a ponytail.
"What about me, stuck in the truck with Dad? He was almost crying." Paul says.
"Really? That's unlike him."
"No kidding."
"Please, buy me food now or I'll be on the floor like Mom in the restaurant."
"I haven't eaten either. It will have to be the cafeteria," he replies.
"Let's walk and talk...about Doris's birthday...are you taking her out to dinner?"
"I'll ask her, but you come with us."
"Why?"
"Because we're just friends. I don't want to give her the wrong idea."
"Okay, but it will have to be after dance class and you'll owe me."
"What's your price?" Paul shoots me a dirty look.
"Teach me to drive. A stranger had to get us to the hospital. He could have been an axe murderer." We enter the cafeteria.
"Okay, okay. Say, who's that...drinking coffee with Betty?"
"The axe murderer."
"Guess I better meet him."
Betty is waving us over.
"Hi, I'm Paul." The men stand and shake hands. William must be over six feet; my brother is right under.
I ask Betty about test results.
"Not yet. Join us."
We sit down at the table. Betty gets up and says, "I'll order you both burgers and fries."
"Are you new in town or passing through?" Paul is looking at William.
"Both. Living on my sailboat at the marina near Sal's. I'll winter here, but be gone by hurricane season. How about you?"
"I was an Army mechanic in Italy. Loved it...except for the war. Came home and found a job at Viridian Auto Repair...for now."
"Do you fix motorcycles?"
"Sure. Do you ride one?"
"When it's running." They grin.
Just as I'm getting bored with the conversation, William asks, "All of you are blond except Betty. Her voice is different, too. Was she adopted?"
I can't stop laughing. "Wait til you hear Doc Sasser and her together. The closest med school is in Georgia. Doc's from there; he never lost his accent. Betty picked it up over the last four years in Augusta. My sister got her brown hair and hazel eyes from Dad, so forget about adoption."
"Forget? Impossible. I was adopted." William drops that bomb just as Doris walks toward us.
Here comes Betty with the food and drinks. She almost drops the tray, but William jumps up, steadies her, and saves my supper.
Doris has test results. She speaks with a slight German accent, "Your mother has Type Two Diabetes, but her head bump is fine. She can go home tomorrow, after Doc Sasser releases her."
Everybody is quiet.
Betty is the first to respond. "How bad is it? Will she need insulin?"
"Not if she avoids sugar and grain. Sorry, I have to get back to work. Bye."
"Wait." Paul follows the petite brunette.
I look at my sister and say, "He's inviting Doris out for her birthday, in case anyone is interested."
"That's progress," Betty says.
Not wanting to think about diabetes, I return the conversation to elementary genetics. "William, see, my eyes match Betty's." Mine are open wide to show him. "I'm tall, because Dad's a giant. You'll agree when you meet him."
Out of the blue, I burst into tears. "Mom's going to be okay, isn't she? I won't get her disease, will I?"
Betty hugs my shoulder. "No, no, no. Don't worry."
"You keep talking about dancing. It's a good exercise for diabetes." He looks at his watch. "I better call a cab."
"Don't bother. We can give you a lift. Betty's off duty."
This isn't what my sister wants to hear, but she politely tells him, "It's the least we can do." She leads us through the front door, toward employee parking.
"The moon's so high. Guess we've been here for hours. Time flies," he says.
I glance up at the silver crescent and follow Betty to her black Ford sedan.
"Kind of a hot and boring car color for Miami. Maybe Dad will get me something white or yellow?" I hop into the back; William sits next to my sister. They sure make a nice couple.
"When you are old enough to drive, be grateful for whatever Daddy buys. Not many vehicles are available now. It takes time for assembly lines to switch from tanks and jeeps to cars."
"Speaking of cars, will Mom be able to drive...with diabetes?" My eyes get watery again.
The doctors talk it over and agree. It shouldn't be a problem, once her blood sugar is under control.
Thank heavens. Otherwise, who would take me to dance classes? I really need a drivers license.
As we pull up to the marina I ask, "Does your boat have a kitchen?"
"Sure does. And a bathroom."
"Great. We want to thank you for helping Mom by cooking Sunday dinner. It will be after church. Okay?"
My sister is beet red, even in the dark. She's going to kill me.
William gets out of the car, shuts the door, and smiles, "Thanks for the lift. See you Sunday."
Betty hits the Ford accelerator faster than necessary. My head jerks back.
Then she lets me have it with both guns, "I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life. What must he think of us?"
"That we're thankful and hospitable."
"No, he thinks we're desperate for male company."
"Ha! You come off about as desperate as a nun. Cold as ice. I had to do something to make up for that invisible sign you wear around your neck."
"What sign?"
"The one that shouts, 'I'm unavailable."'
"This conversation is over, Janet."
"Fine. Let's talk about his good looks; I'd guess 6'1", one-seventy-five pounds. Did you notice those dark blue eyes? Like the deep ocean. Shiny brown hair and a Florida tan. Not bad for an old man."
"Old? He looks too young for me...if I'm interested...and I'm not."
"He's old enough to be a doctor. You two have so much in common."
"Get any ideas of romance out of your head. You have me flustered. Now, let me think."
"He said you're pretty. It was clear as a bell."
She ignores me. "It would be rude to cancel your silly lunch offer, which he accepted. So, I'll have to endure it this once. That settles it."
Betty pulls into our driveway, turns the headlights off, and says goodnight.
Time: Late evening, Friday, November 9, 1945
Place: Hospital hall and cafeteria
Storyteller: Janet
"Thank goodness we escaped." As I skip down the hall, my ballet bun flies apart, into a ponytail.
"What about me, stuck in the truck with Dad? He was almost crying." Paul says.
"Really? That's unlike him."
"No kidding."
"Please, buy me food now or I'll be on the floor like Mom in the restaurant."
"I haven't eaten either. It will have to be the cafeteria," he replies.
"Let's walk and talk...about Doris's birthday...are you taking her out to dinner?"
"I'll ask her, but you come with us."
"Why?"
"Because we're just friends. I don't want to give her the wrong idea."
"Okay, but it will have to be after dance class and you'll owe me."
"What's your price?" Paul shoots me a dirty look.
"Teach me to drive. A stranger had to get us to the hospital. He could have been an axe murderer." We enter the cafeteria.
"Okay, okay. Say, who's that...drinking coffee with Betty?"
"The axe murderer."
"Guess I better meet him."
Betty is waving us over.
"Hi, I'm Paul." The men stand and shake hands. William must be over six feet; my brother is right under.
I ask Betty about test results.
"Not yet. Join us."
We sit down at the table. Betty gets up and says, "I'll order you both burgers and fries."
"Are you new in town or passing through?" Paul is looking at William.
"Both. Living on my sailboat at the marina near Sal's. I'll winter here, but be gone by hurricane season. How about you?"
"I was an Army mechanic in Italy. Loved it...except for the war. Came home and found a job at Viridian Auto Repair...for now."
"Do you fix motorcycles?"
"Sure. Do you ride one?"
"When it's running." They grin.
Just as I'm getting bored with the conversation, William asks, "All of you are blond except Betty. Her voice is different, too. Was she adopted?"
I can't stop laughing. "Wait til you hear Doc Sasser and her together. The closest med school is in Georgia. Doc's from there; he never lost his accent. Betty picked it up over the last four years in Augusta. My sister got her brown hair and hazel eyes from Dad, so forget about adoption."
"Forget? Impossible. I was adopted." William drops that bomb just as Doris walks toward us.
Here comes Betty with the food and drinks. She almost drops the tray, but William jumps up, steadies her, and saves my supper.
Doris has test results. She speaks with a slight German accent, "Your mother has Type Two Diabetes, but her head bump is fine. She can go home tomorrow, after Doc Sasser releases her."
Everybody is quiet.
Betty is the first to respond. "How bad is it? Will she need insulin?"
"Not if she avoids sugar and grain. Sorry, I have to get back to work. Bye."
"Wait." Paul follows the petite brunette.
I look at my sister and say, "He's inviting Doris out for her birthday, in case anyone is interested."
"That's progress," Betty says.
Not wanting to think about diabetes, I return the conversation to elementary genetics. "William, see, my eyes match Betty's." Mine are open wide to show him. "I'm tall, because Dad's a giant. You'll agree when you meet him."
Out of the blue, I burst into tears. "Mom's going to be okay, isn't she? I won't get her disease, will I?"
Betty hugs my shoulder. "No, no, no. Don't worry."
"You keep talking about dancing. It's a good exercise for diabetes." He looks at his watch. "I better call a cab."
"Don't bother. We can give you a lift. Betty's off duty."
This isn't what my sister wants to hear, but she politely tells him, "It's the least we can do." She leads us through the front door, toward employee parking.
"The moon's so high. Guess we've been here for hours. Time flies," he says.
I glance up at the silver crescent and follow Betty to her black Ford sedan.
"Kind of a hot and boring car color for Miami. Maybe Dad will get me something white or yellow?" I hop into the back; William sits next to my sister. They sure make a nice couple.
"When you are old enough to drive, be grateful for whatever Daddy buys. Not many vehicles are available now. It takes time for assembly lines to switch from tanks and jeeps to cars."
"Speaking of cars, will Mom be able to drive...with diabetes?" My eyes get watery again.
The doctors talk it over and agree. It shouldn't be a problem, once her blood sugar is under control.
Thank heavens. Otherwise, who would take me to dance classes? I really need a drivers license.
As we pull up to the marina I ask, "Does your boat have a kitchen?"
"Sure does. And a bathroom."
"Great. We want to thank you for helping Mom by cooking Sunday dinner. It will be after church. Okay?"
My sister is beet red, even in the dark. She's going to kill me.
William gets out of the car, shuts the door, and smiles, "Thanks for the lift. See you Sunday."
Betty hits the Ford accelerator faster than necessary. My head jerks back.
Then she lets me have it with both guns, "I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life. What must he think of us?"
"That we're thankful and hospitable."
"No, he thinks we're desperate for male company."
"Ha! You come off about as desperate as a nun. Cold as ice. I had to do something to make up for that invisible sign you wear around your neck."
"What sign?"
"The one that shouts, 'I'm unavailable."'
"This conversation is over, Janet."
"Fine. Let's talk about his good looks; I'd guess 6'1", one-seventy-five pounds. Did you notice those dark blue eyes? Like the deep ocean. Shiny brown hair and a Florida tan. Not bad for an old man."
"Old? He looks too young for me...if I'm interested...and I'm not."
"He's old enough to be a doctor. You two have so much in common."
"Get any ideas of romance out of your head. You have me flustered. Now, let me think."
"He said you're pretty. It was clear as a bell."
She ignores me. "It would be rude to cancel your silly lunch offer, which he accepted. So, I'll have to endure it this once. That settles it."
Betty pulls into our driveway, turns the headlights off, and says goodnight.