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Authors: Dave Stone,Callii Wilson

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BOOK: The Widow's Friend
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Today, after I get home from work, I have to go visit the
Geek Squad at Best Buy. They come in handy sometimes. It seems that my windows
system has crashed and I don’t have a CD Rom to repair it, but I think it will
be an easy fix for the Geeks. I’m sure that leaving it open for my one year old
grandson to bang on didn’t help.

Was yesterday your anniversary? Too funny—it was mine too.
December the 27th, we were married on a holiday break because Mary was out of
school. And you? Why was yours on that day?

I’ve been trying to remember who your sister in law is. So
far I’ve been drawing a blank, but the sleigh riding hill was just behind the
house I grew up in. People used to bring old car tires and light them on fire
back then. You had to know the pot holes on the hill if you wanted to save your
carcass from bumps and bruises. Do you remember the old saucers made of metal?
But mostly we used the old reliable sleds with the wooden bodies and the metal
runners. Can you remember the old rubber boots we wore that had buckles up and
down the front? Those were the days, my friend, and that’s why I write the kind
of books that I do. :^)

It’s always fun to hear from you, Callii. You are a light in
my life. So please answer my few questions, and then I will respond back to you
with a long one.

Your friend, Levi

 

P.S I don’t think I have ever met someone with so many
variations of names as you have. Many years ago I counted up the nicknames I’d
had over the years. There were about fifteen of them, and now I can only
remember about three—the fog is thickening.

Write soon, Levi

 

***

 

From Levi Stone (One hour later)

Hi there Jo, how is Mary Lou tonight? You better lock the
cellar door before you go to bed. I can hear music from the twilight zone in
the background.

I popped open your e-mail about three minutes after you sent
it, and I couldn’t resist, so I ran upstairs and popped open my sophomore
yearbook and there she was, Penny Peterson. I had someone altogether different
looking in my head, but now I know who she is. Your brother has good taste. She
was one of those older girls that we gave reverential respect to. I had my eye
on younger girls at the time. Too bad I couldn’t have saved you from Ronnie
Tanner while you were saving me from Tricia Holiday back when we were in high
school. Life could have been so much better for the both of us.

Actually, I think Ronnie Tanner was good for you in high
school, but the best thing I ever did was dump Tricia Holiday for Amy Bosworth.
Tricia Holiday married Alan Bonny and I think they deserve each other. Justice
has been served.

I’ve been thinking of you a lot today—you do that to me. I’ll
write a longer note tomorrow when I have more time.

Goodnight Callii Jo from head to toe, still dreaming, Joe
the Shmoe from Kokomo

 

And then I sent her a link to the introduction to “The Twilight
Zone”.

 

From Levi Stone (Twenty five minutes later)

I hope I’m not scaring you. I’d be glad to run over and
comfort you right now. Just say the word.

Still dreaming….

 

***

 

From Callii Wilson (Five minutes later)

Scream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So scary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Save me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

***

 

From Levi Stone (Ten minutes later)

I’ll be there in thirty minutes.

 

***

 

From Callii Wilson (Four minutes later)

All talk! No action!

 

From Levi Stone (Two minutes later)

She don’t know me very well, do she?

 

***

 

From Callii Wilson (Five minutes later)

Is that you I hear creeping up the stairs, or is it Mary
Lou?

 

***

 

From Levi Stone (Twenty minutes later)

Oh, to be in Mary Lou’s shoes right now.

 

***

 

From Levi Stone (Fourteen minutes later)

And by the way, speaking of all talk, I believe that you’ve
set some pretty restrictive parameters down for me. I find them quite
confining, but I don’t want to go the way of Tommy Thompson and be sent
packing, so I remain a member in good standing, minding my p’s and my q’s.

 

***

 

From Levi Stone (Three minutes later)

Good night grandma Callii and sleep well.

Your friend, Levi

 

***

 

From Callii Wilson (Five minutes later)

I told you so—you’re all talk and no action. And Mary Lou
doesn’t wear shoes, she wears roller skates.

Good Night, big talker!

 

***

 

From Levi Stone (Seven minutes later)

So, I thought I’d sent you to bed tenderly, but no, you have
to go and act all sassy. Those are pretty strong words for a girl who builds
fences between herself and her beaus. And by the way, I don’t really find it
all that strange that you and I have the same anniversary. At first I thought
it was a one in 365 chance, but after further consideration I remembered that
you’ve been married roughly 365 times, so taking that into consideration it’s
roughly about a 100% chance. So sleep well gramma. I hope Mary Lou bangs on the
door all night long!

 

***

 

Then I sent her another music link: “Old Flame” by Johnny
Reid. It was a rough and tumble, raspy kind of a love song, and it seemed about
right for tonight’s exchange.

 

From Levi Stone (Two hours later)

Hi grandma Callii. Well, we just ended our e-mail discourse
for the night harshly, and in a bad taste attempt at humor kind of a way. Oh
well, I still love ya’ little sassy one.

So who are you Callii? Are you the lovely grandma that sets
boundaries for her occasional visitors, or are you the black widow that uses
and abuses them. Are you your mother’s daughter that she watches down on from
up above, or are you the do-whatever-feels-good girl that your mother would
advise me to run away from? Are you a grasshopper who goes through money like
water, or are you the little business woman that knows the meaning of a dollar.
Are you the Sunday school teacher’s daughter that he trained up in the way of
the Lord, or are you the back row bleacher bum that does the bare minimum. Are
you my friend for life and romantic flame, or are you a man killer that wants
me for just my body. (What a pathetic choice.)

Those are stark questions, really, and I still have my eyes
wide open. It brings me back to the old Who song, the first song that I ever
sent

you, “Who Are You?” I kind of think you’re somewhere in the
middle of all of these queries, and I’m glad that you are. I like what I’m
finding

here, because you are Calliijo, three dots in a row. You are
who you are, and I like who you are. I find you real and refreshing, and you
just keep leading me on. I can’t let go of the thought of you, nor do I want
to.

I have to tell you that I have been thinking of you too much
lately. I would like to come down there and sit in the dark with you,
parameters or not. I would like to hold you, to soothe you, and have you do the
same for me—and I know that you would. I find it amazing how close we can get
through these e-mails, but does your thinking of me fade in and out a bit? I
find that occasionally I will find you fading in my life just a pinch, and then
you’ll send me some funny or clever little note and wrap yourself around my
heart again. You’re a pervasive and insistent little girl. But from my
experiences in the dating game (fuzzy memories), one person or the other
usually gets their heart broken. Maybe you’ll wise up and send me packing
someday. Penny Peterson or someone wise will inform you of the “real” Levi
Stone and your eyes will be opened. Or maybe Mary (mine, not yours) will
transform from an ugly caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly, or from Cruella
Deville to a gentle little puppy, or from Oscar the Grouch to Big Bird or Elmo,
or from a sputtering and raging Donald Duck to a nice-as-pie Daisy Duck. You
get the picture? Then I would have to slowly unwind this thing that we’ve
gotten ourselves into, and you would think that I had led you on. But I think,
and I don’t know about you, that no matter what happens we’re going to be
friends until the day that we die, it just depends on what kind of a friendship
and how deep that it goes.

Disneyland, the happiest place on earth, I wish I was going
there with you, especially with the grandkids. I love that place. And I wish I
was staying in the same room with you, (I know, all talk.) even if we had to
share it with Mattie—I do know how to be quiet.

I used to think it took three days to do Disneyland and do
it well, but not anymore. Now, with the California Adventure Park next door, I
think you could do five full days and not have enough time to get everything
in.

So here I sit, on the desktop up in my den. I just had the
same experience last night that you had on Sunday. I had about 45 minutes of
e-mail written to you when my old laptop just suddenly turned off. I lost the
whole thing. I’d forgotten that it does that sometimes. The page that you just
read was a do over. It may be better or worse than the first, I don’t know, but
it took some more time, that’s for sure.

Right now it’s four twenty in the morning and my alarm goes
off at six. I woke up about three o’clock and tried to go back to sleep, but no
dice. I curled up against my wife but she was boarded up and shuttered down for
the night—out of business, no interest, go away. Silly girl, she’s really gonna’
miss me someday, don’t you think? And is this what you really want, some guy
pawing at you in the middle of the night? There are pros and cons to all of
this, you know.

How is your struggle with Parker and all of the girls going?
Is there anyone out there other than you that is supportive of him? Is he glad
that he’s out of the country? How is his ex-wife holding up? Anyway, I worry
for you a bit. My heart is with you.

Well, I’m going back to bed now, maybe I can sleep for an
hour. At least I can rest my tired eyes. I’ll write more tonight after work and
then send it off. I’ll go through your e-mails and talk some more if you’re not
too angry with me. After I sent off the thing about 365 husbands I thought
maybe that was a bit much. I hope I didn’t offend you. It was just another
attempt at humor. The thing is, I really don’t care how many times you’ve been
married—really. Therefore, it just seems like more conversation to me. I hope I
didn’t hurt your feelings.

Well, I’ll be thinking of you, whether I want to or not,
because you’re wrapped in my thoughts continually.

Thanks again, from your longtime friend, Levi

 

***

 

All right, I’m back. It’s almost six p.m. and there’s a deep
blizzard outside. I’m glad to be home. I’ll be out blowing snow within the
hour.

It sucks not having a good computer. My old laptop wouldn’t
turn on tonight, so I’m up in my den again on the old desk top. It’s a real
hummer but I can still type on it. Everything just moves really slowly.

Christmas seems like a long time ago already. It was fun and
hectic, but we had a lot of parties at my house. The last one was last Monday
night with the kids and the grandkids. It was an extra one since Bailey didn’t
get here until later on Saturday. We did Mexican and hung a piñata. We hung a
crocodile from the basketball standard and let them swing away with a baseball
bat. Really exciting stuff, but everyone had fun.

Well, I’m gonna go blow some snow now. If you reply with a
little something quickly (before nine), then I’ll write more tonight. If not,
then I’ll have to wait—I’ll have no other choice.

Write soon. Your friend, Levi

 

***

 

From Callii Wilson (One hour later)

Hello friendly friend, Levi

First of all, it takes a lot to offend me—it’s because I am
so dumb. I usually don’t catch on that I am supposed to be offended. I had a
great time egging you on last night. I thought for a minute that you really
would be here in thirty minutes, but ME Do know you, don’t me? You, my friend,
are all talk…

You asked if I think about you. The answer to that is—just
all the time. As far as which one is going to get hurt, that would be me and I
am prepared for it, in fact I would prefer it that way. That would mean you
have worked things out with Mary. (Not my Mary.) I hate that you are unhappy,
and I also hate to see families torn apart. I have been there and it is not
fun. I wish all the time that you were single, but I also wouldn’t want to play
a part in coming between you and your wife.

How’s the snow blowing going? That rhymed. Now I can’t
remember what I was saying to you, and for some reason the emails I send to you
don’t show until you send me another one. Is that normal?

Now I will tell you who I am. I am a Grasshopper, a back row
bleacher bum, and yes, my mom would tell you, or anyone else for that matter,
to run away.

Are you my friend for life? Yes, I hope so. Do I want you
for your body? It depends.

How strong are you? Can you take a punch? I don’t mean to
lead you on. It seems that it is hard to be friends with the opposite sex
without leading someone on. I think that you are the leader and I am just an
innocent follower, just like in the olden days.

I am in the middle of taking my Christmas stuff down. It
seems like I just put it up. I am going to get it all put away tonight if it
kills me. If you don’t hear from me soon, watch the obituaries.

BOOK: The Widow's Friend
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ads

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