Chapter 8 - The Quality of a Man

“Oh, it burns,” Bob’s mind shouted as he grimaced.

“I’m so sorry, Miss. Oh, really, I am sorry,” Doris stuttered.  “I mean I didn’t mean to call you Miss, buddy, uh, I mean sir.”

Not only was the waitress fumbling the coffee, she was fumbling her words, too.  Awkwardly, she pulled at the towel she had tucked into her apron string causing the string to untie and the apron to fall to the floor.

“Oh, my God,” Doris screeched as her waitress uniform began to unravel.  Her apron had held the folded portion of her dress in place across her back.  Now, the dress spread open and was hanging loosely.  It flared from her shoulders like a pitched tent.  Clearly it was too large for her.

Bob could not decide whether to laugh, cry, be mad, or sympathetic.  The shock of having extremely hot coffee spilled into his lap was difficult enough but to see this strange woman come apart in front of him was discomforting, as well.

Thinking to himself, Bob somewhat mused, “Well, at least she didn’t…”

“Let me help you, sir”

Quickly Doris reached for her back and grabbed a handful of her dress so that it bunched once again around her waist.  In the same moment, she reached down and picked up the towel that had just been at her waist.  She reached in with the towel and began dabbing the towel over Bob’s coffee-soaked lap.

“What are you doing out there?”

The gruff voice of the owner came barreling out of the kitchen.  He was looking through the cut out where he put the food for the waitresses to pick up.

“What kind of place do you think we are running here, woman?”

Immediately, Doris stopped dabbing the towel in Bob’s lap.  She dropped the towel on Bob’s table and turned her back to him.  She was reaching around behind her to retie the dress so it would bunch once again at her waist.

Her elbows were practically in Bob’s face.  She had moved very close to him, making Bob think that she was frightened of the owner.  Her nearness was approaching, at least for Bob, inappropriateness.

“I will you ask you again, what are you doing?”

Now the owner sounded determined to get an answer from her.

“I am doing what I am told,” Doris said slowly, enunciating each word.

The tone of her response surprised Bob.  Until then, she impressed him as a fearful, delicate woman.  Now, she sounded angry and fierce.

“Oh, okay,” was the unexpected response from the owner.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Doris turned to face Bob.  “I will get your check right away so you can leave.”

“But, I am meeting someone,” Bob began to explain.

“They will understand, I am sure,” Doris tried to be reassuring, even putting her right hand on his shoulder.  She even batted her eyes.

“I promise to explain to Mr. Hughes what happened.  He will understand.”

Bob looked up at Doris.  At first, his eyes were wide, then quickly he narrowed them.

“I never told you that I was meeting with Mr. Hughes.”

Doris’ eyes filled with panic.

“Of course you did, sweetie.  I’m sure you mentioned it when I sat you here.  Remember, I even suggested you sit on this side of the booth so you could see him when he came in.”

Bob’s awareness now was heightened.  He began to question everything about this supposed meeting.  He glanced at her name tag.

“Of course, it has a different name,” Bob thought as he twisted his mouth to the left.

“Charlotte, you have a choice to make right now,” Bob began.

The waitress seemed startled to hear Bob use her actual name.  She stepped back, withdrawing from such a forward and flirty position.

Bob looked around the diner and noticed that no one else was there.  Then he recalled what he thought was a strange gesture she made when he arrived.  She seemed to move around him before seating him.  Now, he sensed that she had flipped the open sign to indicate the diner was closed.

Bob continued, “You can continue this charade and give me a great story to tell everyone I know in Hilliard, or, you can be honest with me.  The choice is yours but you need to make it now.”

Bob stared intensely into her eyes.  Her brown eyes softened in reaction to his determination.  She nodded her head, ever so slightly, to indicate surrender.

“Did Hughes put you up to this?”

“Yes, Mr. Hughes made me do this,” Charlotte dropped her head, tilting it to the right with her gaze falling to the floor.

Bob knitted his brow and crinkled his nose in confusion.

“What do you mean, he made you do this?”

Charlotte mumbled in response, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” Bob impatiently responded.

Charlotte’s head shot up.  Her eyes had a look of pleading.

“Please don’t ask me anymore about that.  I really am sorry if I burned you.  I wasn’t meaning to hurt you,” Charlotte was now shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

Despite the cunningness she had displayed before, Bob now felt a measure of helplessness in her demeanor.

“Should I believe her?”  Bob began to wonder.

“Why should I believe you?”

Charlotte dropped her head.  She remained silent, offering no reply or resistance.

“I tell you what,” Bob began.  “I am sure that you must give Hughes an account of what happened.  He will be expecting it soon.  Am I right?”

Still not speaking, Charlotte nodded her head affirmatively.  Her eyes remained in a fixed gaze at the floor.

“Say to him that you succeeded.  Tell him I decided to leave.”

“Really?  You want me to tell him that?”  Charlotte’s voice revealed surprise.

“I also want you to tell him that I apologized for having to leave,” Bob grabbed her wrist to be sure he had her full attention.  “And say that I asked you to tell him that I would be back at the city administration building in an hour with the necessary paperwork.  If he still feels we need to meet, he can find me there and talk to me then.  Understand?”

As Charlotte was nodding in agreement, Bob slid out of the booth and stood.  She started to move towards him, her arms begin to raise as if she were going to hug him.  Bob stepped back putting up an invisible wall.

“I am trusting that you will do as you have agreed.”

Bob reached into his pocket and put several dollar bills on the table.  He stepped around her and headed towards the door.

“Are you just another one of them?”  Charlotte softly asked.

“What a strange question,” Bob thought.

Turning to face her, Bob asked, “What do you mean?”

“A politician,” Charlotte’s hands spread out.  “Someone who uses people?”

Bob’s emotions went first to indignation.  He lowered his eyes as he considered her words.

“How could she think that of me?”  he reasoned.  “But, she doesn’t know me, either.”

Looking back up at her Bob responded, “I will let you decide that for yourself.”

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