First Sentence Fridays – Chapter 24

the forgiving kind by Donna Everhart
Okay. This is going to get a little personal as I’m about to share with all of you about a relationship gone wrong with someone a long time ago – how fun, right?

I was a single mom, hard working, with little if any time for a social life. I had a friend at work who thought I needed to get out more, to meet someone. She said her husband “knew someone,” who would be perfect, and they spoke of him as a “great guy.”

I gave permission for him to have my phone number, and that was how it started. X called me about a week later. The conversation was fine (from what I can remember) just one of those getting to know one another sort of conversations.

He said, “Can I call you again?”

I said “Sure.”

Red Flag #1: He started calling me every day, and after a few weeks, the chance to meet was never mentioned by him – only me.

Red Flag #2. The first meeting came after about six months of phone calls, and it was while he was working a job site. We had lunch. In his truck.

Red Flag #3. We finally went out after another couple of months or so. I don’t mind taking it slow, especially a new relationship, but this was like waiting on Spring to arrive – in Antartica.

Red Flag #4. After we’d been seeing one another for a few months, our time together gradually increased. Then he called one Friday evening to say, “I’m here at the farm with Mama and Daddy. I got a bunch of stuff to do.” Here’s what I knew. His family had a five hundred acre cattle farm and he was there often, after work and on the weekends. Here’s what else I knew – he had this chair in his home office, a swivel chair with a notoriously loud squeak. It let out a loud squeal while he told me this.

Red Flag #5. I eventually met his parents. His father was fine, while his mother would make comments like, “Girlfriends. Always got to have all these girlfriends.” While I would’ve liked to have asked what that meant, I didn’t. We were at the farm one afternoon. He was mending fences and I was helping. Here came a car down the country road, heading to his parent’s house. He stopped working and went to pacing, looking nervous.

I said, “Who was that?”

He said, “Come on.”

We got in his truck, but the car was suddenly zipping back down the road, screeched to a halt, backed up, and came flying across the field and stopped directly in front of his truck. Out pops this woman, staring hard at me through the windshield, and then at him. He first rolls all the windows up, then gets out of the truck to “face the music.”

I could go on, but I think you all get the idea. Here’s where I was wrong. I didn’t stop seeing him right then, and if I had, I would’ve saved myself a lot of heartache and embarrassment. I kept thinking that it was only this one time, that because of who I was, I could change him, that he would change, hell, the other women (yes women – not just her) would change. It took two years total before I came to my senses.

He could’ve told me the sky was green and I would have believed him. He was the sort of person who said one thing, did another. The person who told me this, and it was that. The one who said, “I’m at the farm,” and he was not.

So, what to do with old relationship fodder? Well, of course I used it to create another dimension of Frank Fowler.

Chapter 24


Mr. Fowler was big talk.

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