Thanks to everyone who has made encouraging comments on these stories. I'm enjoying writing them and hopefully you'll continue to enjoy reading them. A special thanks to MontanoIR for allowing me to borrow his character of Jackson Hammer for this story. I assume most of you are already reading 'Amy's Fascination.' I'd strongly recommend it for anyone who enjoys my stuff. Also special thanks to PenPal2001 - whose work I also strongly recommend.
Finding Out
Emily Szostek looked over at the trim little one-story house in a small well-kept garden. "You see", she said, "I told you this was an OK part of town."
Her husband, Phil, had insisted on driving her. He feared that Don Parsons probably lived in a run-down district, after all he was an African-American. He shrugged in reply to his pretty young wife. "Better safe than sorry honey. I know Don is OK but there might be gangs active around here."
Emily watched a little old lady walking a poodle down the street and laughed. "I think it's probably safe enough!"
Don had retired a month or so ago and the senior partner, Mr Rifkin, a crusty racist old fart, had refused to OK a retirement party for him. The older lawyers hadn't even wanted to take up a collection but some of the clerks and two or three younger lawyers had bought him a big-screen TV as a gift.
Jessica, Emily's best friend at work, had suggested that they deliver it to Don together but now Jess had been called away at the last minute. Apparently she was tied up again this weekend. Emily had noticed Jess seemed increasingly distracted recently. She knew she wasn't happy at work but sometimes she turned up looking and acting as if she hadn't slept at all. Then, there'd been that strange incident with the African-American guy outside the office. What had that all been about? You couldn't be too careful working for a firm like Rifkin and Harker. Fortunately, Emily was pretty sure she'd been the only one to notice that the guy and Jess had not only left at the same time but had actually seemed to leave together.
Phil wasn't the most romantic guy in the world and he could be a bit of an old woman sometimes but he WAS very useful in carrying the TV. Don's house was small but clean and tidy. Emily was used to seeing the newly retired security guard in his work uniform and for a moment it seemed strange to see him in his civvies. It seemed even stranger to hear him call her by her first name rather than 'Mrs Szostek.'
"Emily, it's so kind of you to come round today." He glanced at Phil, "Set the TV down, son." He gestured at a space by the door. "You know my old CRT set is about to give up the ghost so you couldn't have picked a better gift. Do love to watch my old movies. If I can get this set up I might watch 'Truck Turner' tonight."
"I can help you with that, no problem," gushed Phil. "This set can be part of a home cinema set-up. If you need any advice..."
Emily almost tuned Phil out as she looked round the room. Her husband did love his gadgets and his tech but he could be a bit of a bore about it. If Don didn't watch out he'd have him build a new house just so he could get the accoustics right.
"If you show me where the makings are I'll get us all a coffee," she told Don.
"Thanks, Emily. Kitchen's just over there - only got instant but that'll make it easy. Milk and one sugar for me. Damn, son, you did well to get a fine wife like that."
"What, oh I guess so," said Phil as he sorted out cables and equipment.
Emily blushed as she hurried into the kitchen. She wasn't really used to such compliments these days. Most of the time she operated in a very business-like atmosphere and Phil, well she knew her husband loved her but he didn't seem to show it as often as a girl might like. Before Phil she'd had plenty of compliments, of course. She was a cute blue-eyed blonde who filled out an outfit in all the right places so lots of guys had been ready to dish out the smooth talk if they thought it would get them a chance with her.
Emily quickly found all she needed and set the kettle to boil. While she was waiting she looked around her. There were five photographs on the walls of the dining room. One looked to be from the 1950s and was of an older couple - Don's parents probably. Another three featured a much younger Don. One with a group of men on a building site; another in uniform with a group of other soldiers; the last was his wedding photograph. She looked at Don's bride - a happy, pretty, young woman holding the arm of her handsome soldier-husband. The last photograph on the wall was of the same woman, perhaps twenty years older. She was still smiling but her face was deeply lined and the photograph had a black border.
You didn't have to be a trained lawyer to read Don's life story from those photographs. Emily wasn't nosy - just curious. Perhaps that was why she stayed when the kettle clicked off and she could suddenly hear the voice of Don from the other room.
...no, son, I mostly don't miss it one bit. Bunch of assholes working there. A few of the younger ones was alright but most of them used to look at me like I was something brown and nasty they'd trod on in their fine Italian shoes. Wouldn't give me the time of day and when I did something for them I didn't get no 'please' or 'thank-you' neither. Never known a worse brought-up, more ill-mannered bunch. All so far up their own assholes that..."
Emily stifled her giggle but she could hear her husband laughing. The senior staff of Rifkin and Harker were all impeccably-dressed, Ivy League-educated, corner-stones of the elite in the city and the country. Hearing Don's opinion of them was weird but, hand on heart, Emily couldn't say he was wrong.
"Shit, son, I'd have retired ten years ago if I had the money. Don't think I'd have made it anyway except for some of the younger folks coming in. Maybe I shouldn't say it..."
"That's OK, Don," Phil's quieter voice came through the door.
"Hmmn," said Don, "well, I'd have a shitty day and then Emily or her friend, Jessica, would come by and ask how I was or just say 'good morning' or give me a little smile. Damn but it don't take much from a beautiful woman like your wife to make a man feel REAL good. Sometimes they'd come over at the end of the day and shoot the breeze a little, you know. Used to look forward to that till Mr Clarke told Jess that she was embarrassing him and the firm by 'talking to the staff.'"