CHAPTER TWELVE

AFTER WORK, A shower, and a change of clothes, Timothy picked up Cheryl. At Rossino’s Timothy asked for a table where he could sit with his back to the wall.

“Man, I love this place,” Timothy said.

“Me too. You remember our first date here?” Cheryl said.

“I do. The place was really crowded. I was awkward, nervous, and made lots of small talk.”

“I thought it was cute. I had this vision of you as this war hero who faced danger, and you were struggling to hold eye contact with a girl,” she said.

“I didn’t feel like a hero—more like an awkward kid. It was high school all over again.”

“See? Cute.” Cheryl smiled.

Rossino’s sat six short blocks from the university. The location and ambience appealed to the students. This basement of a large, 1930s apartment building had low ceilings, exposed pipes, too many tables, and a hodgepodge of chairs that did not match. Customers sat so close to other tables that they could hear each other’s conversations. Most of the lighting came from candles on the tables. A few bare bulbs hung overhead. The smell of good food filled the air. People joked that they gained weight in there by taking a deep breath. This family-run Italian restaurant had the best pizza—thin crust and loaded with meat and vegetables. With five-star service, the owners treated guests more like family than customers. The prices attracted the poor college students, which made Timothy feel like he belonged.

“The usual?” Timothy asked Cheryl.

“Of course.”

The waitress brought menus to their table. “Welcome to Rossino’s. What can I get you guys?”

“Two Buds and a large Rossino’s special without anchovies, and how about a couple of house salads to get us started?” Timothy said.

“I guess you don’t need these.” The waitress picked up the menus she’d laid on the table. “You got it, hon.”

They talked about nothing in particular. With the crowd at this time of the evening, the noise bounced off the stone walls and wooden ceilings. Timothy found it difficult to hear Cheryl’s voice. It was one of the few crowded places he could tolerate without feeling anxious.

The waitress returned with the beers. Cheryl fidgeted with her bottle, drawing sweat tracks on the table and picking at the label. Timothy sensed she wanted an opening for a conversation he didn’t want to have. He didn’t need any special training to recognize her signals. The time he spent with her took care of that.

He became more tight-lipped. Better to keep it to myself, he thought.

“To a crazy year.” Timothy held up his beer for a toast, and Cheryl clinked his bottle.

She toasted with her left hand, and Timothy focused on the naked ring finger. It made him more self-conscious of his situation. Why would she stay with a guy like me?

“Timothy, I can see your mind is somewhere else tonight. What’s bothering you?”

“You playing therapist?”

“No, I’m a concerned girlfriend. I can see the worry in your face. You’re not that good at hiding your feelings, though I know you try.”

He laughed and it took some steam out of his response.

“Hiding, huh? I’m trying to, but apparently I’m no good at it,” he said.

“Timothy, when people get overwhelmed, it shows. It’s tough to mask.”

“Overwhelmed. That word makes me uncomfortable. It sounds like I’m out of control.” He took a long pull on the beer, trying to wash the words out of his mouth.

“And that doesn’t suit you?”

“No. Guys like me aren’t supposed to get overwhelmed.”

“Right, and doctors aren’t supposed to get sick,” she said. “It’s okay to feel those things. You’ve got a lot going on right now. If you talked about them, you would feel better.”

“What do you want to hear? That I feel guilty my mom went to the hospital because I didn’t do more to fix the furnace?”

“That’s a start,” she said.

“Do you want to hear about next semester’s tuition, or that I have to empty my savings to pay for the furnace? Do you want to hear I haven’t figured out what to do about the real estate taxes and home insurance this year or Mom’s hospital bills?”

“That’s a lot to carry around with you,” Cheryl said.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got big shoulders.” Timothy said dismissively.

“They’re not that big, and they don’t have to be.”

“I called my Uncle Bill and Frank, and they can’t help. I’ll figure it out.” He drained the bottle on this draw and scanned the room for the waitress.

“Tim, I have some money put aside. I would be thrilled to help,” Cheryl said.

Her words pierced his armor like a lightning bolt. His girlfriend, for whom he could not afford to buy a ring, wanted to help him financially. He teetered between hurt and insulted.

“I don’t think so,” he said sharply and then tried to be more gracious. “Thank you, no. I’ll figure something out.”

The salads arrived, and they ate in silence. After a few minutes, Cheryl broke the silence. “Those bills are not your fault. You may feel responsible to pay them, but you’re not responsible for your mother’s hospital bills, the furnace, or the taxes and insurance. Those things happen. You didn’t cause any of it,” she said.

“Yeah, well, they happened at a lousy time.”

“There’s never a good time to replace a furnace or to get sick,” she said.

“Leslie and Ike can’t help. They have too much going on with their kids. It’s up to me.”

“That’s one of the things I love about you. You want to make things right. A lot of people would run from that responsibility.” She had tears in her eyes.

“I guess.” His tone softened with her words and tears. “I’ve been thinking about how I could make this work. Just because I want to go to school doesn’t make it the right decision at this moment. Dez said he could keep me busy full time for a while. I could set aside enough to pay off what we owe and start back to school in the fall.”

“Do you really want to walk away from your dream?” she asked.

He saw the disappointment in her eyes. “No.”

The pizza arrived on a thin aluminum platter that had served thousands of pizzas before this and bore the scars to prove it. The waitress set it on the wire rack on the table. It hovered there, waiting to land on the empty plates in front of them.

“Another beer, hon?” she said to Cheryl.

“Sure, that would be great,” Cheryl said.

“Me too,” Timothy said.

“Got it. Buon appetite.”

Timothy looked at Cheryl and held up his bottle. “You know me; if one is good, two is better.”

“And three’s not enough,” Cheryl added.

They ate in awkward silence for the next few minutes.

Timothy wiped his mouth and washed down the pizza with a swallow of beer. “There is another option. I’ve been giving this some thought. The hospital has a tuition program that if an employee works thirty-two hours a week and keeps his grades up, the hospital reimburses the tuition.”

“That’s a lot of hours with your school schedule,” Cheryl said.

“Here’s what I figure I can do. I will work Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday. Most of my classes are on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. If I have a lab or something on Tuesday or Thursday, I can work the evening shift if needed.”

“That’s a heavy load, Timothy. It doesn’t leave much wiggle room.”

“I don’t have to start until the Christmas season is over. Also, when I go in to work tomorrow at the hospital, I’m going to ask the folks in accounting if they can work out a payment plan for me so I can pay a little each pay period for Mom’s bills.”

Cheryl listened patiently to his plan. “That would be nice if they’ll work with you.”

“Yeah, I think so. That gets tuition and the hospital bills off the table. I can still take care of the furnace with my savings. The GI Bill and VA disability will be enough for Mom and me to live on. It’s tight, but this could work. Mom gets a little Social Security, which could take care of some incidentals.”

“It’s good to see you focused on a solution. You have given this some thought. That’s good. What about Dez’s offer?”

“I’ll talk to him and explain I don’t want to do that yet.”

“Good. You’re staying in school and making it work,” she said.

“Yep.”

They sat for a while, Timothy loosening up. Cheryl smiled. He thought about how much she meant to him, but he still had some unfinished business to take care of. Tonight, he stepped forward on a new path. They sat for another round and left for Cheryl’s house where he planned to stay in her brother’s room for a few more days.