Anna... 27 Years Later

Anna Perkins. Although I hadn't seen her since we graduated from high school, that cute redhead had never left my mind...or my heart. Even during my brief marriage, I always wondered about Anna. Had she married? Had kids? Where was she?

I first met her when we were both 14-year-old freshmen in high school. We hit it off as friends from the beginning. She had a few close friends, but I was her only close male friend. Still, we never dated because her father refused to let her date until she was 18. Even after turning 18 during March of her senior year, he still wouldn't let her date until she graduated from high school.

Her mother died tragically when Anna was only 9. She was at a stop light on her way home from work when a drunk driver plowed head-on into her car. Her dad had the responsibility of raising their only child. I asked her on a few occasions to meet her dad, but she never seemed interested. In retrospect, she almost seemed frightened.

Some things didn't make sense, even back then. I was clearly her closest male friend, maybe closest friend of any gender. She had a couple of female friends, Juanita and Candy, and the four of us spent several lunches together. Sometimes, it was just Anna and I for lunch. I'm sure more than a few classmates, other than our closest friends, assumed that we were an item.

We talked about just about anything. We shared so many common interests. We were both avid baseball fans of the Dodgers. We enjoyed the same music and TV shows. So often, I wanted to share my real feelings for her, but I felt that she only wanted me as a friend, nothing romantic. I clearly had stronger romantic feelings than she did, or so it seemed.

I wasn't the best student. I knew that. My home life wasn't ideal, either. My dad was by far the best influence in my life, but he was so busy working to make a decent living. My mother was a stay-at-home mom, but didn't do much around the house. In short, she was lazy. My dad was probably the hardest working man that I knew, and mother was the absolute opposite. She didn't seem to have any maternal instincts. She wasn't abusive, she was just emotionally distant.

Dad worked at a machine shop during the day and then worked 3 hours each night for a janitorial company from Monday - Friday. Even though he was off on weekends, he was always busy doing chores around the house and as I got older, I became a very good helper for him. Eventually, he trusted me enough to have me do minor repairs myself while he worked on another project.

Not only did Anna's father not let her date, he wouldn't even let her go to my house, even with my parents at home. Dad talked to him once on the phone, but Mr. Perkins made it clear that it wasn't going to happen. Dad recalled that he seemed rather rude over the phone. Something about his voice made Dad not even want me around him.

After high school, she would call me a couple of times per week and it was like old times. We could spend hours at a time just talking. To hear her voice and to hear her laugh was worth the late night calls and lack of sleep at work the next day.

She had told me that it was a bad idea to try to call her, but that she promised to stay in touch. Suddenly, a couple more weeks went by and I hadn't heard from her at all. I took it upon myself to call her home. Her father answered.

"Who is this?" a gruff voice asked me when I asked to speak to Anna.

"This is Cal Arnold, a friend of Anna's from high school."

"Yeah, I've heard about you. What the hell do you want with her?"

It sounded more like an accusatory remark than a legitimate question.

"Just to talk, Mr. Perkins. Just like we have since we were freshmen."

"Well, I don't want you talking to her and get the fuck off of my line. I don't want you around her or even calling her. Go find another piece of ass."

I was crushed. Another piece of ass? I hadn't heard from her in two weeks. In our world, that was unheard of. Even during summer vacations, we'd talk at least 2-3 times each week over the phone. I knew that I hadn't done anything to make her mad at me, so it occurred to me that she didn't just have an over protective father, her father was just a giant prick.

I had no ambitions of furthering my education past high school. I worked full time at a furniture warehouse stocking and delivering furniture to homes. I lived at home, at my dad's request. Dad had grown tired of mom's laziness and apathy towards everything in the home, including their sex life. Dad didn't go into much detail obviously, but there wasn't enough going on in the bedroom to keep him happy away from it.

Mom wasn't a heavy drinker, but she smoked non-stop. She drank sodas and watched a shit load of TV all day long. Sometimes, dad would get off from his job at the machine shop and get he and I a hamburger and fries to bring home for dinner. Prior to leaving from work, he'd call the house and ask mom what we were having for dinner. When it became obvious that mom hadn't even started on dinner yet, dad would get the two of us hamburgers.

This pissed off mom every time. Each time she'd ask, "Where's mine?" and dad would always answer, "You've had time to make whatever you want for dinner. I haven't. After a few times of her fruitless complaining, mom quit asking and would just walk away. I always thought it was funny, yet sad as well. Why did mom let herself be like this? She was still a reasonably attractive lady. She had gained a few pounds, but with just a little bit of self-respect and better hygiene, she would have still been a head-turner; especially with her large breasts.

I eventually figured out that dad was getting some action on the side. His trips to the hardware store on Saturdays often took 3-4 hours. With some very basic detective work and a huge tip from a high school friend whose dad owned a motel about 15 miles from town, I knew that he was visiting a young widow that lived down the street from my friend. She was 45 and dad was 40 at the time they began their frequent disappearances. Although I don't condone adultery, I could certainly understand why he felt a need to go elsewhere. That didn't justify it, but it did explain his actions.

People that know me know that I take two very strong characteristics from my dad; a stellar work ethic and the ability to manage and save money.

From the time I began working full-time after graduating from high school, I put nearly my entire paycheck into a savings account. I paid for my truck insurance, gas, and few dollars to my dad to help with groceries. Mom never saw the money. That was money to help with our dinners when dad would go out and get hamburgers, burritos, or a pizza on his way home from work...and before leaving for his second job.

Dad worked both jobs until his death 5 years ago. I have no doubt that he worked himself to death. Working both jobs for over 30 years straight with hardly ever a vacation took its toll on him. He was only 60. Mom didn't know what to do, other than begin drinking recklessly. I had already moved out of the house and she was left alone. She became even more distant and reclusive. Nothing I could do would help. She refused any attempts at rehab. She died of alcohol poisoning just over a year later.

What probably sent mom over the edge was that although dad had a small insurance package that he purchased from a funeral home, it only covered the funeral and burial expenses. Dad had purchased a separate policy, without mom's knowledge, worth 100,000 dollars...with me being the only beneficiary. I'm sure he intentionally omitted mom's name, knowing she would just blow the money. My relationship with my mother was never that great to begin with, but this knowledge made her even more distant. Even my offers to share some of it didn't change her...so I just kept it all.

I did live at home for the next 7 years after graduating from high school. When I was 21, a friend of mine that I had met at my bowling league, asked me if I'd consider a career as a truck driver. It's something that I had considered, since it was a job that was always in high demand...and most importantly...less demanding on my back than lifting couches and other heavy furniture all day long.

My friend, Andy, introduced me to his boss. He worked for a large company that had their own school for training truck drivers. They paid a very modest salary for six weeks and then covered the costs of the written and over-the-road tests. My only obligation to them was to sign a loyalty pledge for two years to work for them. That seemed like a good deal then and in looking back, it was the bargain of a lifetime for me.

Although Andy drove locally, the new drivers usually got the long hauls that required several days away from home at a time. I drove all over the SW part of the USA. From our home office in Bakersfield, Ca. to Southern Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, and as far west as El Paso, Tx. There were also a few runs in Utah and Colorado.

The days were long but the money was better than any I'd seen before. I wasn't rich, but compared to barely above minimum wages at the furniture store, it was as if I'd hit the jackpot.

Again, living at home did help. I wanted to move out sooner, and dad wanted me to go out on my own. However, he also knew that by staying at home and paying a pittance for rent, I would save a lot more money. Also, I was gone for so many days at a time that it didn't make sense to pay normal rent for even a one bedroom apartment that I may live in only 10-12 days per month.

At age 26, I bought the place that's been home until now. It's an older home in an older neighborhood, but it's probably more structurally sound than any new tract home built today. It's a simple 2 bedroom, 1 bath home with barely 1100 square feet. I added an extra bathroom, private patio, and a hot tub in the next 3 years. I made my final mortgage payment on it 1 year ago. I enjoy living in a quiet area with great neighbors.

I gave up my long-distance driving 6 years ago. As much as I enjoyed seeing so much of our beautiful country, I longed for weekdays of work and weekends of relaxation. I had seen my dad literally work himself into the grave and although I had no aversion to work, I have learned to enjoy my down time. Of course, I didn't have a lazy wife to support, either.

At least, not for long. I married Evelyn Barber when I was 27. She was quite a looker with long blonde hair, an hourglass figure, and large tits. At the time, she was a manicurist and had more customers than she could handle. There were warning signs from the beginning that I should have seen, but love is blind...or more accurately...lust was blind. She was great in bed and willing to do almost anything. Still, the constant questions about my portfolio and the constant reminders that I needed more life insurance (I had a 50,000 dollars of coverage), made me believe that she wanted something different that I did.

Although the sex was great, I also wanted a strong relationship. All she knew was to use her body to get what she wanted. She began working less and depending on my income more. Finally, I learned from some trusted neighbors that strange men had been seen coming in and out of our home when I was out of town. A few pictures of the vehicles, as well as two of the men, along with some interrogation produced a confession. She claimed that she was bored when I was gone and couldn't resist her urges for up to 8 or 9 days at a time. She needed cock. I called bullshit on that. After 8 months of marriage, I got it annulled.

I haven't been an angel, I'll admit it, but during the time that we were engaged and then married, I never cheated on her. Being on the road gave me some opportunities, and when I was single I took advantage of a few of them, but while married I resisted the temptation and honored my wedding vows.

I've had a few lovers. 8, including Evelyn, to be exact. One was local, and the others were simply booty calls while on the road. These were women that I would meet at truck stops. When I knew I would be coming around again, I would call them and let them know when. There was never any illusion that it was anything other than mutual satisfaction. I took pride in being a good lover, especially being a patient and giving one. In each of the six women on the road, they were divorcees that had no interest in starting a new relationship. The benefits for myself and them was mutual. The local lady was also a divorcee that I met while back in a bowling league after leaving the road for so many years. Again, nothing serious, just a couple of friends with benefits.

Up to this point in my life, my biggest regrets were losing my dad so soon and not settling down into a stable relationship. Certainly, my time on the road created its own set of problems, but I always had this dream to settle down and have at least one child. By the time I was 40, I made the decision to have a vasectomy so that it would never happen. Being a father was something for a younger guy, I believed. Although condoms are reasonably reliable, and I've almost always used them, they aren't 100 percent fool-proof.

Last month, I took a full week of vacation and headed to Las Vegas for 5 days. I wanted to visit Sin City in April before the summer heat made visits less comfortable. I had stopped overnight in Las Vegas many times over the years. During the summer months, it's miserably hot during the days. Even the evenings can be uncomfortable with temperatures still in the low 90s near midnight.

I stayed at the New York, New York hotel on the famous Vegas strip. Although I had been to Vegas often, I always stayed outside of the strip at casinos/hotels that had adequate parking for trucks. This was my first foray onto the strip.

The New York hotel and casino had great online rates for mid-week stays, plus it was located within a reasonable walking distance from several other casinos. The weather predictions were perfect for a lot of comfortable time walking outdoors.

The room was fairly large, with a king size bed and a large, flat screen TV on the wall. The bathroom had a large shower as well as a large tub with jets, and was well-stocked with soaps and shampoos.

After a 5 hour drive on a Sunday afternoon, I kicked back on the bed and began reading the various magazines that hotels put in the rooms telling patrons about all the great entertainment in town. Somehow, I fell asleep while reading, and when I woke up, it was nearly 5pm. I was hungry and I needed a shower.

I took the shower and wandered downstairs to where there was a huge selection of restaurants. There were fast-food options such as McDonald's, various ethnic eateries, a massive buffet area, and a common diner. The diner wasn't too busy inside, so I decided to make that my first meal. I was anxious to get to the roulette wheels and the blackjack tables. I would keep dinner simple, yet have table service.

I was promptly seated and given a menu. The hostess took my drink order, iced tea, and let me know that my server for the night would be Anna and that she'd be at my table very shortly.

I often pay attention to the pictures featured on menus. It's often an indication of a product that they are proud of and want you to buy. It's not always true, but most often I have noticed it to be so. With so many years on the road, eating out had become more normal for me than eating at home. Even with my job keeping me in town, I rarely cook for myself. It's not that I can't, in fact, I enjoy cooking, but to cook for just one person is difficult. Most good recipes are designed for groups of 4 or more. Hence, I often eat out or have food delivered. If I cook for myself, I know that I'll have leftovers for at least the next two meals.

I spotted the picture of their chicken fried steak on the menu. The picture seemed to indicate that it was freshly battered and fried, not some frozen patty that's deep fried with gravy thrown on top of it. That was comfort food to me.

"Cal Arnold?"

I heard a female voice approaching from my right side. I looked up and I immediately knew who was calling my name.

The redhead was that high school friend, Anna Perkins.

"Anna?" I wasn't sure whether to be happy to see her or still bothered by the fact that she just unceremoniously dropped me out of her life when we were just kids at 18.

"I assume that you're here with your family for vacation?" Anna asked.

"Family?" I said, shrugging off the concept, "I have several friends, but so little family. I'm on vacation for a few days and I'm visiting the Strip for the first time in my life. I've been through this town dozens of times in the past, but I stayed away from the strip. Not much long-term parking for truckers on the Strip."

I really didn't want to discuss much with her. The part of me that resented her was coming out in my voice. She was my waitress and I didn't want to start any kind of argument. I'd never forgotten her, and I knew I still had feelings for her despite the abandonment. Suddenly, food didn't seem so important to me.

She had barely changed physically in the past 27 years. At 45, she still had that lovely long red hair, although pulled up with hair pins for sanitation purposes on her job. Those green eyes still bore right through me and the smile she flashed at me at the beginning was the same warm smile that I had remembered from our high school days.

Although her uniform was very conservative, her body was nearly exactly what I remembered. Her breasts might have been slightly larger and her body slightly filled out more, I still admired it.

"Cal, I get off work at 8 tonight. Would you mind if I go home, shower, and come back here and catch up with you? There's so much to discuss...and I think you may understand why things happened like they did. Can we do that? Or, do you have something else you'd rather do?"

"No, not really. I would like that, I guess."

"Thanks, Cal. By the way, I'm not married...never have been...but we can discuss 27 years of life later. How about 9:30 over at the fast food court? Should be quiet at that time on a Sunday night. Seriously, Cal, I'm looking forward to it. Meanwhile, can I take your order?"

My appetite had left me, and a large meal no longer was so appealing. I ordered an iced tea and a small salad.

I wasn't sure what to expect. I did want to talk to her, yet I was still angry about how things happened. When I was in high school, I honestly expected to be spending the rest of my life with that sweet redhead. We were such great friends, and all I was waiting for was for her dad to give her permission to date. To that day, I still believed things would have been much different if not for her dad. Still, she quit calling. I couldn't get past her dad to call her. Now, she was probably going to try to give me some lame-ass excuse for doing what she did.

Of course, I couldn't forget the wonderful years of friendship. I promised myself that no matter what she said later, that I would try to be as gracious as possible. It might be the last time I ever get to see her. Despite my hurt, the feelings were still real...even after 27 years.

I sat between the Subway Sandwich and Fruit Smoothie signs in the sparsely populated food court. Unless the court somehow filled up quickly, we would have more than enough privacy to catch up on 27 years of life.

When she appeared, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Anna was wearing a yellow flowery one-piece sundress that cut deep in the back, near and was held up by tying the strap around her neck. Although her breasts were covered well, the thin cotton fabric did nothing to conceal the fact that she was braless and that her tits were larger than I remembered. They weren't large, but clearly larger than what I could recall...and more than adequate for her slender build. The small belt around her waist also helped to accentuate her fine figure.