Ralph's New Wife
By Dick Hannah
It’s hotter than usual in town today, and I’ve always found that people stray pretty far away from the ordinarily when it gets hot. Ordinarily I would not be sitting on a little park bench in Newton watching for a woman I don’t know. Ordinarily I would have told my ex-wife and her screwball cousin to go do their own damn spy work and leave me out of it. Ordinarily I would have worn my hat and white shirt, not my blue shirt with no hat at all, but it’s hot and things are out of the ordinary.
A small tow headed boy with shoes that look three sizes too big for him climbs up on the bench next to me. His actions are resolute and determined and once up on the bench he stares at me curiously. I try not to notice him but I can sense his stare and realize it is only a matter of time before he breaks the silence.
“Howdy mister.” Says the tinny voice belonging to the boy.
“Yep.” I say slowly not wanting to encourage him.
“Whatcha looking at?” He asks following my gaze across the street.
“That boutique.” I say nodding.
“What’s a boutique?”
“That’s a boutique.” I nod again.
“You mean the one with all the old women talking and laughing inside?”
“That’s the one.”
“My mom goes there sometimes, but she calls it a sl-on.” He pauses and makes a slurping noise. I look at him and see that his face is covered in chocolate ice cream. There is still some unmelted ice cream in a cone grasped valiantly in his hand. “Why do they sit and there and get their hair done anyway?” he asks.
“I have no idea.” I answer truthfully. Behind him I see his mother sitting cross-legged in the grass playing with a small baby girl. She waves at me and I return the wave with one of my own. I guess I look like a harmless enough old man that she doesn’t seem to mind that her ice cream covered child continues chatting with me.
“Are you waiting for your ride?” The boy asks.
“Nope.”
“Then watcha waiting for?”
“I’m waiting for Ralph’s new wife to come out of that boutique.” I nod again at the store.
“Why?” He pauses a moment. “Are you giving her a ride?”
“Nope.”
Again he pauses. “Then why are you waiting?”
“Well if you must know, I am going to ask her out.” I turn to regard him fully seeing the maw covered in ice cream. “Maybe get an ice cream with her.” I say this with a degree of sarcasm that he does not appreciate.
“Why’s that? You like her?”
“Nope. Never met her.”
“Why would you want to ask her out then?”
“I don’t want to, I have to.” I say.
I see his brow crinkle. “Then why are you doing it?”
“Cause my ex-wife, Ella nagged me into it.”
“Why?”
“Cause Ralph’s her cousin. He’s a nut and she’s a nag. I have few defenses against those weapons.”
“Oh.” He pauses, most likely confused. “What’s a nag?” He asks finally.
“Ella,” I answer. “She’s your prototypical nag.”
A long pause follows as he considers this answer. Finally he gives up and says, “You’re weird.”
“You said it.” I respond, agreeing with him.
This whole string of events can be traced back to lunch. If I had had bologna on white bread instead of brunswieger sausage on pumpernickel I probably wouldn’t have been forced to come out here. But my morning went well and I was in a generally happy mood. Whenever I’m in a good mood I like to treat myself to a tasty lunch, so I passed on the safer foods and went with a large brunsweiger sandwich with a lot of grainy mustard and three big slices of onion. Afterward I settled in for my afternoon nap on the sofa, excited that there was a slight breeze coming in through the window, little things excite me now. But the breeze made it less oppressive in the house. Sadly, a far more oppressive wind blew in in the form of Ella just moments later.
“Norman!……Norman!………Do you hear me Norman?” I winced as I heard Ella shuffle in through the door and start looking around the house. “Where are you?”
I kept my eyes closed hoping that it was a bad dream, but that didn’t work when we were married and I had little hope it would work now.
“You need to go to Newton, Norman.” She said this matter of factly, like I was missing a dentist’s appointment and it was her job to remind me. Her voice was so shrill it could curdle fresh milk and it reminded me of one of the reasons I divorced her. Her ruining my naps happened to be another.
“Do you hear me Norman?” She yelled louder.
“Want to know what I hate about living in a small town?” I asked betraying my position to her. She clomped heavily into the room following the sound of my voice.
“What?” She asked.
“You lose the habit of always locking the door.”
“Don’t try to be funny, Norman. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Who’s trying to be funny?”
“You need to go to Newton.” She said returning to her original subject.
“Why in the hell do you think I need to go to Newton? I’m perfectly happy here.”
“Ralph needs your help.” I could sense her right by the sofa, looking down at me but I kept my eyes closed, locked tight against the now completely gathered and fully formed storm.
“Who’s Ralph?” I asked. “You mean that wimpy cousin of yours.”
“My baby cousin is not a wimp.”
“I consider it a blessing that I been able to avoid him for over ten years. Why would I want to ruin that? I never liked him, and I’m not going to help him. I’m going back to sleep.” I threw a pillow over my eyes.
“Get up Norman.” She insisted. “I told him you would help.”
“Well, I don’t know why you did that since I don’t want to help.”
“I owe him a favor, Norman.”
“YOU owe him the favor. Not me. Solve your own damn problems.”
“Norman, I promised. Now get up and get dressed.”
I got up slowly, waited a second and then slipped my eyeglasses on my head. The truth was that Ella wasn’t the only thing keeping me up. That kraut sausage with onions was doing a number on my stomach and I realized that with such a foundation, napping would be difficult if not impossible.
“Come on Norman. We have to hurry.” She said.
“Hurry? Hurry to Newton? It’s an hour an a half away. I’m too old to hurry anywhere, much less to a place that’s over an hour away.” I looked up at her and shivered as I saw my own personal Torqumada glaring down at me.
“You have to ask his wife out.” She said simply, as if it wasn’t a strange thing to say.
“Why in the world would I do that?”
“He thinks she’s straying and wants to be sure she isn’t. She’s never met you before so you’ll be perfect spy. Now come on.”
“Stop pulling on me like that.” I yanked my arm back and sat down again. “I’m not going to Newton to ask Ralph’s new wife out. I’m not a gigolo Ella. Never was. Requires too much effort.”
I shook my head slowly and sighed at how ridiculous my life was becoming. I was beginning to think that Ella was cracking up and trying to take me with her. I wondered if it wasn’t the heat that was driving her crazy, but then I remembered that I’ve thought she was crazy ever since she divorced me. Any girl who would divorce me has got to be crazy.
“Tell Ralph to talk to his new wife and figure this out himself.”
“Nope, now get up and get dressed, wear something nice like your blue shirt. I told him you would do it.”
I tried to keep the argument up, but failed. Ella can be as persistent as Sisyphus, and her objectives are far less significant; yet another reason for the divorce. Besides she promised she would let me out of my promise to escort her and her sister Mildred to the Children’s Marching Chair Band annual brunch and rehearsal next Sunday. Ralph’s little problem was certain to be more fun than watching kids bang chairs, and no matter what she looked like, it was a good bet that Ralph’s new wife was a sight better looking than Ella’s sister Mildred.
I know Ralph Meeks well enough to know that Ralph is a fruit loop and a mama’s boy. He’s always doing queer things so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he and Ella had dreamed up this little scheme. Its just funny to see that two people who can seem so normal alone, don’t have shred of logic existing between them when they get together.
According to what I could glean from Ella, Ralph was wondering about his new wife’s fidelity, so he called Ella to ask for some advice. Ella, always ready with unsound advice, had just finished watching an Oprah episode that featured ladies who trap unfaithful men by making passes at them. Naturally they would come up with this scheme, and naturally she would enlist me against my will.
“Is that her?” The boy asks pointing as a woman comes out of the boutique.
“Don’t point, its rude.”
“Is it?”
“I think so. Just sit back and let’s see where she goes.”
Ralph’s new wife is blonde, I’ve been told. Blonde, tall and wearing a green blouse. The lady the boy pointed out fits that description perfectly. She also fits into her tight white pants perfectly. Naturally Ella didn’t mention that. I smile realizing that if nothing else this silly notion will provide me a long hard look at a decent looking gal; a pleasure after filling my eyes with nothing but Ella and her friends in town for the past few weeks.
“See ya later boy.” I say as I push myself up from the bench and cross the street as quickly as seventy-five year old knees might allow; which although not very quick, is quick enough to keep up with a strolling woman. Ralph and Ella thought I should talk to his wife after her bridge club, but I disagree. Having been married to a bridge player and having studied the breed, I know that women usually leave bridge parties in packs, and women are protective in packs. Any guy who approaches a woman in a pack will be outnumbered and vastly out volumed. My idea is to catch her after her beauty work. After getting their hair done women usually feel their prettiest so even if she turns me down she might find it understandable that a man would ask her out.
Sadly, talking to women has never been my strong suit. Words have so much meaning in these situations, and I’m not the type to give my words excessive thought before speaking them. I asked Stephanie Hamilton to the senior dance when I was in high school and she had been excited about that. But sometime during the dance, foxtrotting in the gymnasium, she asked me what I was thinking. Fumbling for a compliment I told her she looked beautiful in this light. It went over splendidly and I was swept up in a whirlwind romance that lasted until we went over to Buster’s barbecue party right after the dance. We were outside drinking on the porch when I mistakenly answered the same question with “Light aint so good out here.”
Now, I meant exactly what I said. It was growing dark and I couldn’t see if it was Mike’s blue pickup or Kev’s black one pulling in the gate at the top of the lane. Stephanie however, thought I was referring to her visage and my dating life has gone downhill from there, as evidenced by Ella.
“Hello.” I say to Ralph’s new wife as she pauses at the door to her car. “Are you Marilyn Meeks?”
“Why, yes, do I know you?”
“I’m Norman Porter.” I say. “I used to be married to Ralph’s cousin, Ella.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember her.” She says her face brightening. She has a distinct and deep southern accent that I have always enjoyed in women. “I met her at our wedding. She seemed so nice.”
“Don’t be fooled by first impressions.” I say half under my breath. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”
“Well sure, Norman.” She says smiling at me winningly. “You’ve caught me on a good day. Usually I meet some friends for bridge, but they’ve all gone over to Canaan; a funeral for a friend I didn’t know. Did you know Robert Ecklesworth; lived over off of Elm?”
“Nope.” I say wondering if she is a natural talker or just nervous when she meets new people.
“Neither did I, but all of my friends knew him so they went to his funeral. Supposed to be a real grand thing. One of his sons feels guilty and is rich, so he’s pulling out all the stops. He passed on while he was in that big new hospital over there, and from what I’ve heard the son never went to see him.”
“Hmmmm.” I say thoroughly convinced now that she is a natural talker. I damn my luck and look for an opening to cut off her chattering. But, I was no longer curious as to why she spent so long in the boutique.
“Usually we play bridge on Wednesday’s at this time, and let me tell you I was looking forward to it. I was supposed to be paired with Alice; she was the grand champion of our club last year, she and Rosemary. But this year she is my partner and boy is she ever hot.”
“Well that sounds good., but….” I say quickly trying to get a word in.
“Oh yeah, last week we won the whole pot. Four dollars and twenty-three cents.”
“Good haul, but what I was hoping to …..” I say quickly, meaning to interrupt her stream of consciousness soliloquy. I have no luck in doing so and instead I find myself smiling as she speaks about her meager winnings. I have never understood how women get so worked up over winning such small amounts at their bridge clubs.
“Oh yeah, and the side pot is up to twelve seventy-five. That goes to the team the reaches two hundred points in the fewest hands. I bet Rosemary and I could have won that today.” She notices my smile and stops momentarily. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“It’s nothing.” I say quickly, thankful that my smile has been able to do what my words have not. “Look, I was hoping to talk to you about something. You see, Ralph sent me to spy on you.”
“The word “spy” seems to stop her cold. I had been worried that she was getting warmed up to move on to a new subject, but instead she says, “What’s that supposed to mean, Norman. He didn’t mention that to me.”
“Sure, but Ralph aint much of a mentioner, now is he.” I say.
“Well, now you’re just being rude.” She responds.
“Look,” I say getting tired of the sun beating down on me, wishing again that I had thought to bring a nice big hat. “Why don’t we go in here and have a quick ice tea and I can tell you what’s going on. I think you deserve to hear the truth, and I need to get out of this damn sun.”
At first I didn’t think she was going to acquiesce, but I guess either the blue shirt works, or the sun makes her act in strange ways too cause she smiles a bit, and says, “I guess that can’t hurt, and it is awfully hot.” So together we walk into the little diner and we order ice teas and as we talk.
Three weeks go by and again I find myself sitting on the little park bench in Newton. The little boy is back too, his mom and his sister playing just like last time in the grass while he roams around. He sees me and comes over eagerly. He climbs back up on the bench and sits down next to me heavily.
“Whatcha up to Buddy?” I say to him before he has a chance to talk.
“Nothun.” He says perfunctorily. “What about you?”
“Not much.”
“You look different?” he says showing that offhanded and casual nature that kids have when it comes to mentioning things.
“Maybe it’s my hat.” I say.
“Still waiting on that lady?”
“Yep.”
“Still going to ask her out?”
“Don’t need to.” I say.
“Why not?” He asks surprised.
“She asked me.”
“So are you going out for ice cream again?”
“Nope, she invited me to her place for dinner. Ralph is out of town.”
I never did find out if Ralph’s new wife was having an affair, but I have decided against telling Ralph or Ella about the one she’s enjoying now.
