The Farmer and the Actress

Chester McAdams was casually driving down the highway towards home with a content attitude. He wasn't in a hurry because he had finished his work for the day. His work was basically just helping people who he liked or who had a need. Recently, life had been good to Chester or Chet as he was known. No one really knew what he did or how he earned his money but he never seemed to have any financial problems. Most people assumed that he inherited his money or won the lottery or something; but in this part of Texas, how you got your money was not a topic for public discussion. People did what they did and as long as they didn't bother people, they were slowly accepted into the community. And although he had only been in the community for ten years, Chet was accepted.

Today, Chet had helped a friend put in thirty fence posts. His price for helping was that his friend's wife made him lunch because she made one of the best homemade chicken pot pies in the area. His friend and his wife were more than grateful for his help. Their fence was old and their cattle were always getting through. Things were tight and they couldn't afford to lose any cattle and the cost of paying someone to replace the fence was beyond their budget. Now that the posts were up, his friend could put up the new fence without help. He felt that he now owed Chet one more favor that Chet never seemed to need.

Occasionally, Chet did call in favors but never for his personal benefit. He would ask a number of people to show up on a Saturday morning with their tool boxes and help put a new roof an old woman's house or clear out a garden plot for a new couple who just moved into the area. These were the paybacks that he asked for. People seldom refused and then only because they had a good reason.

So on this Friday afternoon, Chet was driving home and his only deadline was to get home in time to feed his dog. Life was simple for Chet McAdams. Or at least it had been simple until he saw the big SUV parked on the side of the road, its hood up, and steam pouring out from the engine compartment. He stopped behind the steaming car and got out. Standing in front of the car was a frantic woman trying to get someone on her cell phone. Unfortunately, they were in an area where cell phone service was marginal on a good day and non-existent on a bad one.

"I see you have a little problem here." Chet said as the woman spun around at the sound of his voice.

"Oh, thank God. You are a lifesaver. This is a rental and it just started overheating and then stopped. Can you help me?" She sounded on the verge of panic.

"OK, the first thing to do is take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Getting in a panic isn't going to solve anything. Breathe deeply and let it out slowly." She finally did as he said and took a moment to breathe deeply.

"Good now come back to my truck. That handheld phone won't work worth a crap out here. Use the one in the truck; it has better reception and range out here."

He led her back to his truck and opened the door for her. He showed her how to make and complete a call. Then he left her to go check on her car. It only took him a minute to diagnose that the car wasn't going anywhere soon. A blown out radiator line and possibly a water pump weren't hard to diagnose. He went back to the truck and waited until she finished her call.

"Well what do you think?" she asked tentatively as she got out of the truck.

"I think you better get your stuff out of the car and let me take you to town. That car isn't going anywhere except on the back of a wrecker."

She frowned, "How far is to .... ahhh to Lakeside?"

"Oh about five miles; but you might be better off in Ballard."

"Why is that?

"In Lakeside there is one café and one place to stay but I doubt that you want to stay there."

"It has only one place to stay? What's wrong with it?"

"Besides the fact that it is primarily a place for fishermen to stay, there isn't anything wrong with it. They come in on Thursday night and fish all day Friday and Saturday. Sometimes they take a shower before they leave on Sunday."

"Sounds like a charming place."

"Oh, the diner there has the best fried catfish you have ever eaten."

"The next time I have fried catfish will be the first time." She said with a groan.

"Let's get your things and we'll go into Lakeside and get someone to come and tow your car. Then we can figure out what else to do."

She agreed and they got her suitcase, purse, and briefcase from the SUV and left it locked. He drove the five miles to Lakeside while she nervously contemplated her present state. Chet pulled in to a service station where a big burly man in a sleeveless shirt came out and greeted Chet as he stepped down from the truck.

"Hey Chet; how are things down on the farm?"

"About the same as they are always on the farm, Jethro; you just wait for the crops to ripen and try to keep the weeds at bay."

"That's why I gave up farming. I don't have the patience. What's up?"

"I found this young lady on the highway with steam boiling out of her engine. It looks like a radiator hose and then maybe a water pump. She says it is a rental. Can your guys go get it and call the rental company?"

"It will be an hour or so but we can get it. Did you leave the keys in the car?"

She replied, "No, I have them here. And here is the rental contract."

"Thanks, Ms. Arrington. We've worked with this rental company before; so there shouldn't be a problem."

"While I have you two together, do either of you know someone named Oliver Franklin? I understand that he lives around here."

"You mean the writer guy?" Jethro asked.

"Yes, that's him." She replied.

"I get that question a lot but to be honest if he lives around here, he doesn't go by that name. I've never known anyone who knows he is here. What about you, Chet?"

"No, doesn't ring a bell but there are a lot of people who live here that aren't involved locally. He might be one of them." Chet replied with a slightly wary look in his eye. Jethro nodded.

"Damn, I thought he might be easy to find."

"Why are you looking for him?" Chet asked.

"Oh, I'm trying to do a business deal with him."

Jethro stated, "Say aren't you....."

"No, everyone says that I look like her but I'm not. I'm Rachel Arrington from California but I am definitely not her."

"Ooops, sorry ma'am. I didn't mean to get pushy. Where are you going to be staying so I can call you?"

"I'm not sure. Chet says that the motel here isn't the best; so I don't know for sure."

"Chet is probably right about that. My dog likes to hang around the motel because of all of the unique smells but you don't look like someone who that would appeal to."

"Thank you for that. Is there any place else close that might have a motel?"

"Well yes but the bad news is that it is totally booked through the weekend. There is a festival going on this weekend until Sunday. The closest that I can think of is about 50 miles."

"Crap! That is just great."

Chet spoke up quietly, "Well I can offer you my spare bedroom. It's clean and hasn't been slept in by anyone for a long time. And it has a lock on the door. I'll give you a gun if that would make you feel safer."

She looked at him like he was suggesting that she eat fried catfish.

Jethro interrupted her before she could say anything, "Actually, that might be your best deal ma'am. And I personally can vouch for Chet. I think that the last person who stayed in that bedroom was my wife when I was out of town a couple of years ago. She said that he was a perfect gentleman and was a decent cook too."

"Thank you, Jethro. I guess I'm not used to someone who doesn't know me and who I don't know offering me a place to stay. In California, that would get a girl in deep trouble."

"Well around here, you have to take what is offered to you because there aren't that many options."

She turned and looked at Chet and after spending several minutes pondering the idea, finally said, "Ok Mr. Chet, you've got a boarder for a couple of days."

"Call me when you get the car thing straightened out, Jethro."

"Will do, Chet. Take care, Ms. Arrington."

They got back in Chet's truck and drove through the center of the small town before turning down a dirt road. After four miles, he turned into a gate and got out to open it. She looked at the property behind the gate and saw some open land with wild flowers everywhere and then a line of mostly oak trees with a few cedars mixed in. It appeared to be very well maintained and mowed. After driving through, Chet got out again and closed the gate again.

"I thought that a lot of people just left their gates open out in the country."

"Most people do when they are home. I keep it closed for two reasons; one to keep my dog in and the other is to keep other animals out, mainly feral pigs. They tear things up and can be mean. My dog is just too friendly and would be happy to visit all of the neighbors. I'd prefer that she stays close and I don't particularly want a litter of mixed breed puppies to tend to."

"Feral pigs? What are they and why are they a problem? I've never heard of them before."

"It has gotten a lot of press in the agriculture news but not a lot in the mainstream press. They are a mixed breed of domestic and wild pigs. They are smart and can get very big. They can also tear up a garden or a field over night and then disappear. There are guys who make a living hunting them because they are so destructive and prolific.

She looked unsure about what that really meant as they drove up the road where they were met by a beautiful Golden Retriever standing in the middle of the road. She proudly turned and slowly walked toward the house at a very slow speed.

Chet said, "I don't know where she learned to do that; even if I am in a hurry, she isn't. She meets me right there and leads me to the house at the speed of a slow tractor."

Rachel was smiling as she watched the dog lead the truck right up to the front door. Then she came and sat by the door waiting for the occupants to get out. Rachel got out and was met by a smiling face and a nose that immediately sought out the unique smells from her shoes and feet. She bent over to stroke the dog's head. "What is her name?"

"Well I thought I would get creative, so I named her Goldie. I've got to warn you, the only things she doesn't like are squirrels and gophers. If you pay her much more attention, you will have a friend who might be more than you want."

"She's precious and I don't mind. I have a dog but it is a little one. I travel so much, I usually leave it with friends when I travel though."

"I understand that. I have to travel a little and I usually have a high school girl who lives next door either come take care of her or stay here if I'm going to be gone for more than a couple of nights."

"Ok, Mr. Chet, let's see what kind of place you have here."

Chet unlocked the door and Goldie quickly entered and sat like a hostess in the door way. Rachel walked in and went "Wow!" The basic design was very simple as it was a standard log cabin from the outside. However, the interior was warm polished wood and showed a very creative use of space in its layout. Essentially the front room was one large room including a kitchen, eating area, and living room. Chet carried Rachel's bag into the bedroom on the left.

"I decided to put you in here because it has its own bathroom and the bed is more comfortable."

"This is your bedroom, isn't it?"

"Well yes, but I think you would rather have a little more privacy and I won't bother you in the morning when I get up. I get up early, make coffee, and then usually go out and work for awhile. Then I come in and fix breakfast. So why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll go start dinner. Is there anything you don't like or want? Oh, I see you have a laptop. The house has a wireless router, if you need to access it."

"Thanks. I do need to check my e-mail. And don't go out of your way for me. I will eat anything you fix."

"Ok, I was going to do fish and vegetables and some bread sticks. Is that all right with you?"

"That would be great. Wait, are you talking about fried catfish?"

"No ma'am. I don't eat that crap unless I'm having dinner somewhere else and that is what they fix for me. Is white wine good? I've got others if you prefer something else."

"White wine will be good."

"Get yourself settled and take a nap if you want. Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half."

"Thank you, Chet. I might do that. My flight arrived early this morning and I didn't get much sleep last night."

"I'll leave you alone. If you need something, just holler."

"Thanks, I will."

Chet closed the door and went to the kitchen and started two pots of water to boil. Rachel looked around the bedroom and found it to be comfortably masculine. The warm wood of the front room carried over to his room at least. She unpacked her bag and hung her travel garments in the closet. Instead of the expected work clothes, she found that his closet contained several sport coats and slacks. Chet appeared to have a more formal side besides jeans and work shirts. She wondered who or what he was or is. She lay down on the bed for a minute and promptly fell asleep.

Chet prepared the vegetables and set the table after getting the outdoor grill burning. The marinade he chose was citrus based with a selection of fresh herbs from his garden. He also whipped up some dough and made some whole wheat bread sticks but waited to put them in the oven until he put the halibut on the grill.

As all of these preparations began to come together, the bedroom door opened and Rachel emerged with slightly tousled hair and a relaxed look in her eyes. "So Mister Chet, I see no sign of a woman's touch. Has there ever been a Mrs. Chet?"

His reply was simple but there was a wince in his eye as she asked her question. "There used to be about fifteen years ago; but not anymore."

"Oh." She paused before she continued carefully. "Is that an off-limits subject?"

"Not really. It is just one of those scars that you pick up on the road of life. We married in college and then I went to work for a big company. Five years later, she decided that my boss was better looking and better everything than I was and decided to make a change."

"That seems kind of stupid in hind sight."

"I guess. It lasted two years until she figured out that he was a serial womanizer. Last I heard, she found another guy and I guess they are happy. She has had three kids with him."

"Did.....Did you think about trying again with her?"

"She tried..... But I have always been one of those who just keeps moving forward; I don't like to go backwards and try to redo things. If I screw it up the first time, then I learned a lesson and go on. I guess I got that from my father. He was like that too." He picked up the platter of fish and asked, "I'm going to put this on the grill. Will you be so kind as to put these bread sticks in the oven in about five minutes?"

"Sure." She watched as a he went out the front door. Then she wandered over to the kitchen and looked at the clock and then the bread sticks. She wasn't certain but they almost looked homemade. She also lifted the lid on each of the two pots simmering on the stovetop and discovered steaming summer squash and green beans. Both smelled fresh and savory. She also had a nagging feeling that there was more to be said but that he was reluctant to open that door.

A few minutes later, she stuck her head out the door and asked, "The bread sticks have been on for eight minutes. How much longer do they need to bake?"

He turned back to her after looking closely at the fish, "Open the door and if they are nicely browned, take them out. If not, give them two more minutes. The fish will be done then and we can eat everything hot."

She returned to the kitchen and opened the oven door. She decided to give them the two minutes. She went to the refrigerator and found the bottle of now chilled wine and opened it. The wine glasses were already set on the table. She noticed that the table was perfectly set and that everything was in its proper place. She also noticed that they would be sitting across from each other. She idly wondered if he wanted eye contact throughout the meal or if he was reluctant to share his space with a woman.

Her thoughts were interrupted when he entered with the platter of fish in hand. She went to the oven and found the bread sticks perfect in her eyes and with the help of a heavy glove removed them from the oven. He handed her a plate and she moved hot bread one-by-one onto it while he halved the grilled fish and put each half on a separate plate.

"I suggest that we don't dirty another bowl and just dish out our vegetables from the pot. Is that all right with you?"

"Of course, I eat half of my dinners at home over the sink so I don't have to wash more dishes."

"Naughty girl; you should cook fresh and eat leisurely and enjoy it."

"Who says that I don't enjoy eating over the sink?" She grinned at him. "Besides, sometimes that is all of the time I have to eat before I have to leave for someplace else."

"I couldn't live like that. Bending over the sink hurts my back and I make sure that I schedule nothing to interfere with meal time."

"Lucky you."

"You could do it too; if you tried."

She stuck her tongue out at him but then said, "Oh, this fish is marvelous. What is it?"

"It is halibut marinated in a citrus and herb sauce. I only have it occasionally because not many places around here carry halibut. I got this in Dallas last week when I was there. Do you like the bread sticks?"

"Yes, very much. They almost taste like they were made from scratch." She saw the frown on his face. "You made these from scratch, didn't you? Sorry. They are wonderful."

The rest of the meal was finished in a leisurely manner with light talk about non-controversial subjects. Chet finished and pushed back from the table and began taking the dishes to the sink to soak.

"Do you like coffee after your evening meal?"

"Yes, thanks. That would be nice."

"Do you want regular or decaf and do you want it simple or would you like a little liqueur in it?"

She thought a moment and then replied, "Surprise me."

"Great. Go on over to the sitting area and turn on the TV or whatever you would like to do. It will take just a few minutes to make."

She sat down while turning on the television. Almost immediately, she changed channels because the show that came up had a very familiar photo posted along with a story about rumors of a possible breakup of a famous actress and her fiancé. She also turned on her laptop to check her e-mail. She had a dozen waiting for her and all but one was business. The one was from her best and closest friend confirming her arrival in Dallas on the late afternoon flight on Monday. She replied and asked her friend to go to her house and bring a hanging bag that she had neglected to bring and that she would meet her at the airport. Then she began plowing through the others. Most she could reply with a "yes," "no" or a blunt "not no, but hell no." Sometimes she wondered if people had the common sense that God gave to a brick.

As she finished a particularly blunt "not no, but hell no" reply, she became aware that Chet was placing a large cup of coffee next to her but it had a mound of what appeared to be whipped cream on top. "What is this? Whipped cream?"

"Yes, I decided that I would treat you to something a little special for dessert. If you don't like it, I'll make you a regular coffee."

She lifted the cup and immediately smelled a unique aroma that was both sweet and pungent. One sip and she knew that there were probably two liqueurs and other spices mixed in. She also ended up with a whipped cream upper lip which she promptly licked off.