Nursing a Grudge: An Earl Walker Mystery

Chapter 12

Gloria arrived at Earl’s apartment right on time. When he opened the door and saw how she was fixed up, he was speechless. Gloria wore a purple dress, golden earrings dangling from her earlobes.
When she saw him, she glowed. “Oh! You’re so handsome.”

He fidgeted. “Thank you.”

There was an awkward silence until Jenny jumped in to the rescue. “Now, you kids have a good time.”

She patted Earl on the shoulder, murmuring into his ear, “Remember—just act like a normal person.”

He didn’t respond. He just watched College and Gloria exchange good-byes, and then College waved as she took off. He and Gloria were out in the hall before it occurred to him to mumble, “You look very nice.”

“Thank you, Blue Eyes.” She tentatively reached for the handles of the wheelchair but stopped herself. “What’s the protocol here? Do I offer to push the chair, or would that be an insult?”

“Either way is fine.” Earl shrugged. “If you’re in a hurry and you want to get somewhere fast, you can push. If you don’t mind us taking our time, I can wheel it myself and you can just walk alongside.”

“A walk would be nice.” She smiled at him.

He felt something again in his chest. He hoped he wasn’t having a heart attack.

Making their way along the hall, Gloria attempted to make small talk. She asked whether he had any kids or grandkids; he did not. She asked if he had plans after Candlewick closed down; he did not. She asked how he spent his time; he didn’t want to admit he spent it all watching game shows and pro wrestling, so he said he read a lot.

“I’m not much of a conversationalist,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how to talk to people.”

“You’re doing fine.” She squeezed his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

Earl felt a blush work up his face. “I guess.”

“I heard how you talked to Mr. Nelson today,” Gloria said. “That took a lot of courage—he is such an imposing man.”

“For all the good it did me.” Earl felt the strain in his weary hands but kept wheeling. “You seem to get along with people. How do you do it?”

“I guess you just relax and talk to them.” She added, “Talk to them like—people.”

Exactly what College had said. Earl didn’t reply. Headed for the cafeteria, he almost remembered the way.

“Pardon me for saying,” Gloria said sweetly, “but I would think a professional bus driver would be better about directions.”

“Well, if we would take a regular circuit around the block a few times, I might be able to figure it out. But these past few days, I’ve had a lot of geographical information thrown at me in a random order.”

They didn’t say much else until they reached the cafeteria.

Over fruit salad, Gloria asked, “So, you drove a bus a lot of years, huh?”

“Ayup.” Earl sipped his iced tea. “Almost twenty-six years.”

“Wow, that’s a long time. My late husband, Dwight, bless his soul, worked on cars. He died doing what he loved—he was under his favorite Chevy, changing the oil.”

“He worked on them? My hat’s off to him. I can drive ’em, but I could never figure out how they worked.”

“When did your wife Barbara pass away?”