The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,34

a group who are well off, we have friends who send their kids to school with our kids. It’s a different society altogether. It’s not like the way you and I were raised.”

I looked at Helen, studying her over. “What’s wrong with the way we were raised? Weren’t you happy growing up? You certainly looked happy. The Ceraldi family was an on-going adventure; whenever I came over, your family welcomed me with open arms and lifted my spirits, and there was plenty of food and clothes and love there. I even learned how to speak-a the Italiano.”

Helen looked at me with disbelief. “Poco-poco,” I said, correcting myself.

Helen smiled at the memories. I continued, “You had six brothers and sisters, all living in a house that your father and uncles built with their own hands. You didn’t have a lot of luxuries, but neither did anybody else on the southside. You had a household filled with love, which was more than most.”

Helen’s smile faded. “Yes, and you know that Dad and my uncles only built one bathroom for the nine of us? Do you know what that’s like? We have five minutes, five minutes, in the bathroom, and three on school days! We had to get up early to get a place in line, and if we missed our chance we had to use the kitchen sink to wash up or even the garden hose in the backyard!”

“Well, I’ve done that!” I said. “I’m sure we’ve all done that at one time or other, when the plumbing went wacky!”

“You didn’t do it every day!” countered Helen. “And most of the time we had to hold it until we got to the bathroom at school, and hoped the school bus wasn’t hitting every pothole that day. The teachers always counted on us to be using the restrooms early in the morning. Now, I can spend all day in one of the upstairs bathrooms, soaking in the sunken bath without even having to share, with anyone!”

I didn’t know what “scars” had been left on Helen’s psyche, but this wasn’t something terrible. Every family had to make adjustments, one way or another.

“At least you had plenty to eat and clothes to wear, and don’t get the idea that you were abused. You may have worn hand-me-downs at some time, but your mother made sure they were clean and looked good. I never saw you wearing rags.”

Was living the jet-set life making her happy? No, I didn’t think so, or else she wouldn’t be here with me, a fellow who was making just a few thousand above the blue-collar worker, and somewhat financially content.

“Helen, I think your husband may be looking for a way out of his debt by taking up with a rich girlfriend.”

At this, Helen just looked into my eyes, as if she was wondering if I were lying. But she knew I wasn’t, it made too much sense and all the pieces fit. And I didn’t make any mention about Susan Lovely being younger and richer.

The meeting ended with our fishing in the dark, looking for motives and reasons, but at least Helen had been introduced to the idea that they burned money as though it were nothing.

And, I had learned that Susan Lovely may have loved Old Man Lovely for his lovely money, the little vulture.

The Big Picture

The next week went slowly. There had been too many developments for me, too much information for my slow-paced life. I suppose I had become accustomed to being a bachelor, or a loner; I liked it when the dust began to settle so I could get back to my own interests. What a dullard I must appear to be, at least to any outsider. But when things were on my terms, when life was slow and plodding, it was pleasant, and I could deal with life this way.

It was time to visit with Miss Planter, listener. Paid listener. This didn’t quite make her a friend, but it did keep her objective, which is what I needed and wanted. Sometimes a fellow needs a little outside guidance, even if it was from a curvy younger woman. Hopefully she wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to hear, but what I needed to hear. I may not have been happy at the moment, but, while taking stock of my feelings, I didn’t feel sad either. Maybe Miss Planter was onto something when she told me to help somebody.

I said “Hello” to Phyllis, the young pretty secretary, and