Even as Hannah and I got into my van, it still seemed a bit surreal. We had supper last night. I didn’t even know her name until a little before then. Now we were on a second date of driving around the countryside in the late morning with plans to picnic somewhere for lunch. An Iowa picnic in late November normally seemed like a bad idea, but I didn’t care. I was up and nothing could bring me down, not even the incessant ringing of my cell phone.
The caller ID told me it was Deputy Hargrave. “Excuse me a second,” I said to Hannah, “I have to take this.”
The deputy started with, “Mr. Hunt, I wonder if I could ask you a favor.”
Going with my policy of staying on the good side of law enforcement, I said, “Sure thing. What can I do for you?”
There was a pause as though the deputy wasn’t sure about what to say. “I was wondering if you could casually drop by Stan Loffland’s apartment in a little bit. I have to give him some bad news and he could probably use a friend.”
Oh no, not more bad news. The poor old farmer just lost his family home and all his stuff. What more could happen to him? “I’ll head right there; it’ll take me about fifteen minutes or so.”
“That should be about right,” said the deputy. “I’ll see you when you get there.”
We hung up and then I remembered Hannah.
She looked at me with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong?”
“You know that farmer I told you about? Well, Deputy Hargrave needs to give him some bad news and he asked me to drop in on Stan to make sure he’s ok afterwards. I’m sorry. We can reschedule the drive.”
“No,” she said, “it’s ok. This is important. Do you mind if I come along?”
That hadn’t occurred to me. Honestly, a lot of things had not occurred to me because I was used to being alone all the time. I agreed to do what Hargrave asked without even considering that there was a person seated next to me in the van. To be frank, I liked the idea of Hannah coming along. “That would be great. It may be kind of sad, though.”
“That’s ok,” she said. “Life isn’t always happy, but it’s better to do things together.” She reached over to squeeze my hand.
It took a moment before I could start the van and go.
Stan’s Place
I parked the van behind one of the sheriff’s vehicles, probably Hargrave’s. That meant he was still with Stan. Hannah and I went to the apartment.
When we got upstairs, Stan’s door was open. We could see Stan sitting in a chair with Deputy Hargrave standing near. Stan held his head in his hands and was obviously upset. Sammy sat on his hind legs, with his forepaws on Stan’s lap, the dog just as sad as his master.
I knocked on the door lightly.
Hargrave turned and motioned us in. His eyes moved past me and studied Hannah. It was obvious he didn’t expect me to bring a plus-one. The investigative part of his brain cycled through all the possibilities and decided that she wasn’t a problem. I assumed that he had probably seen her at the convenience store; there weren’t that many places in town to get coffee at odd hours.
Stan didn’t look up at all. I wasn’t sure he was even aware of us. Whatever Hargrave told him, it must have been a bombshell.
I looked to Hargrave for an answer.
He motioned the two of us to the side for a huddle.
“This is Hannah,” I introduced, “we were out for a drive when you called.” I left out the part where we hadn’t quite gotten started. “How bad is it?”
Hargrave pursed his lips and frowned. It was definitely bad. He spoke softly, barely loud enough for Hannah and I to hear. “We found his kids. They died in a car accident a few years ago and nobody ever contacted him. His son, daughter, son-in-law, and one grandson, all at once. They were on vacation together and their rental car went off the road. Somehow, in all the connections, nobody followed up on next of kin.”
Now Stan really had lost everything. I remembered how bad it hit him that all of the mementos of his life burned and were gone. He looked forward to reconnecting to his kids, to have family again. Now that was not an option. His whole life was gone.
I had to do something. Walking to where he sat, I knelt down and put my hands on Stan’s knees. “Stan, I am so sorry.”
He raised his head a little and pulled his hands away. The red of his eyes and puffiness of eyelids said everything about the depth of his despair. He was lost, with no anchor to life and no hope of finding one.
“You’re not alone,” I said. I don’t know where the words came from, but it was somewhere in the back of my head. “It’s not the same, and I can never understand your loss, but I’m here for you. You’ve got friends and we’ll do what we can to help you through.”
Hannah came up and knelt beside me. She put one hand on my shoulder and another on Stan’s lap next to mine.
Stan looked over at her and then back at me.
“Sorry,” I said, “This is Hannah. She and I were out for a drive earlier.”
He looked more closely at her. “You’re the Thompson girl. Don’t you work at the convenience store?”
She smiled and nodded. “I hope I’m not intruding. Like Timmy said, we were out when he decided to come over. I don’t really know you, but if Timmy says you’re a good guy, then you’re a good guy. So, I’ll help too, if I can.”
His head dropped for a moment. Before I could react, he lifted it again. His face showed a sad smile like the two emotions were fighting for control. He looked at Hannah, took a deep breath, and started. “This Timmy is quite a fellow. I only met him a short time ago. In that time, he’s found the criminals hanging out at my farm, watched Sammy here when I was in the hospital, and found me a place to live. If I would have let him, he would have furnished this whole place. He did that for an old farmer that nobody else remembers or cares about.”
“That ain’t the whole of it,” he continued. “When he found me a place to live, he did it in a way that helped somebody else he barely knew. I don’t know how his zombie thing works, but he does a lot of good for living people.”
I guess he was technically right, but the way he said it made me really uncomfortable. I wanted to run away, but I needed to stay with him.
Then I made the mistake; I turned to look at Hannah.
She was smiling at me and blushing.
The part of my brain that dealt with emotion and embarrassment overloaded and shut down. It seemed to take out all but the most basic thinking ability. The good part was that I was no longer overthinking everything and there weren’t a bunch of emotions running around my head screaming in panic. The bad part was that I just sat there like an idiot.
Hannah and Stan held a brief conversation, possibly about me. I was out of it, so I couldn’t really tell.
Hannah moved her hand to my other shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
That brought me back around a little.
Hargrave stepped closer to us. “Mr. Loffland, I’m afraid I have to go now. It looks like you are in good hands. If you need anything, you have my number. I’ll let you know if we find out anything else, you know, about your farm.”
With that, the deputy headed for the door, almost running into Mrs. Sweigart as she came in.
“Hello? I hope I’m not intruding,” she said.
Hargrave looked over at Stan and then back to her. “No, I think you are right on time. If you will excuse me.” Then he left.
Mary Sweigart noticed that Stan did not look happy. She rushed over to him. “Are you alright?”
He looked up at her. “Yep, I’ll be alright. I just got some bad news, is all.”
Hannah stood up and offered her hand for shaking. “Hi, I’m Hannah Thompson, Timmy’s friend.”
Mary shook Hannah’s hand but her gaze didn’t deviate from Stan very much.
Hannah tugged on my shoulder, indicating that I should stand up as well. I did, with Stan standing as well. Sammy moved to lay at Stan’s feet.
Hannah looked at me as though trying to convey some message. I’ve never been good at getting messages.
She nodded slightly in the direction of Stan and Mary.
They were looking at each other. Mary had taken hold of Stan’s hands. That seemed like it was a very comforting thing.
Hannah’s expression to me took on a greater sense of urgency. I tried to use facial expressions to communicate that I didn’t understand. I wasn’t sure how well that worked, but I think she was figuring it out anyway.
“Stan,” I said, ‘you’ve got my phone number if you need anything.”
Stan didn’t seem to hear me. He and Mary just stood there.
Hannah finally leaned close enough to whisper to me, “I think they want to be alone.”
I’m not sure why it took a moment for my brain to process the message. Once again, my lack of social skills stood in the way. Actually, I’ve never been sure I had social skills. I thought you needed a social life to build those.
Anyway, I looked again at Stan and Mary. With the new perspective, supplied by Hannah, it was very likely that they wanted to be alone. If my understanding was correct, it was possible that they were already alone in their own little world.
Hannah tugged on my sleeve and we made our way to the door. Once in the hallway, we turned and waved as Hannah pulled the door shut.
Mary and Stan didn’t seem to notice.
Driving Conversation
We drove for about ten minutes, which put us well into the country, when Hannah spoke. For some reason, I hadn’t noticed that we weren’t talking.
“It’s interesting that you and Stan only just met and you’re somehow that close,” she said.
I nodded. “I only just met Mary about the same time.”
“Who is Mary?”
Apparently we forgot introductions. “Mary Sweigart is the woman at Stan’s apartment. She owns the apartment building.”
“The woman love-locked with Stan back there was someone else you just met? Didn’t Stan say you introduced them?”
“Well, yea. Stan needed a place to stay after the meth heads burned his house down and Mary needed renters and someone who could do minor maintenance. It seemed like a good match.”
She rolled her eyes and giggled. “That was a good match, alright. The electricity between them could light up a whole town.”
“Do you think so?” I still wasn’t really sure about what was going on there.
She looked at me as though trying to analyze my brain from the outside. At least, I think that was what the look was. For all I know, she was leaning over to pass gas.
“For a long time, I wondered why you didn’t flirt back with me at work. I thought maybe you weren’t interested or something, like maybe the spy thing. Back at the apartment, you didn’t seem to pick up on all the emotional queues. Really strong emotions, like Stan being sad, that got through to you. But the Mary-Stan vibe missed you altogether. Are you always like that?”
I thought about it a bit. She was obviously right, but I was afraid of what that meant in terms of the two of us. I liked having her around, though it wasn’t even twenty-four hours yet. It would be nice if she kept hanging around.
“Yep, I’m pretty sure I’m like that, but it’s hard for me to tell, you know, looking at it from the inside.” I glanced over at her, not wanting to take my eyes off the road for long. “Is that ok?”
“I think it’s ok; I just need to keep it in mind.” She settled in her seat a little. “It will be something to think about before reacting. I will just have to ask myself, is he really being rude or is he just unaware? I guess it’s like that for everybody to some level or other.”
We drove quietly for another mile or so.
“If I’m ever being rude,” I said, “it’s perfectly ok to tell me. I won’t get offended or anything. I’ll actually appreciate it. If I learn from it, maybe I won’t be rude next time.”
“You got it,” she said, then laughed a little.
Eventually we reached a small county park where we stopped for lunch. It was too cold to use the picnic tables, so we sat in the van to eat our sandwiches. From where we were parked, we could see the creek as it carried fallen leaves downstream.
After a while, she covered us with the picnic blanket, asked me to slide my seat back, and sat on my lap.
For just sitting in a cold van on a dreary, desolate day, it was very pleasant.