~ Foolish Is The Heart ~
by
Michael Embry
Brandon arrived at Porter’s about ten minutes before noon. He went to the bar
and ordered a Pepsi. He noticed her reflection in the bar-length mirror when she
arrived at the restaurant. Her hair was down to her shoulders and she was
wearing an aqua blue dress and a string of tiny pearls. He remembered her being
attractive when he met her at the university a few days earlier, but certainly
not as beautiful as she appeared now. He turned around in the bar stool and
stepped down and walked toward her.
“Hello, Ms. Horton,” he said.
“Oh,
hi,” she said with a radiant smile. “I hope you haven’t had to wait long.”
“No,
I just got here a few minutes ago.”
A
matronly hostess in a black skirt and white blouse came up and took them to
their table. The Tudor-style restaurant was about three-quarters full and would
likely be packed by twelve-thirty. It was a favorite spot for business people,
especially those wanting to conduct some business during the lunch hour.
A
waitress brought them glasses of water and took their orders. Clarice asked for
a chef salad with fat-free Ranch dressing. Brandon ordered a steamed vegetable
plate.
“Why
don’t you call me Clarice.” she told Brandon. “I think we can forgo the formal
titles now.”
“Only if you call me Brandon,” he said.
“It’s a deal.”
“What did you think of the news conference?” she asked, her tone turning
business-like. “Was it worth the time?”
“I
thought it was better than most,” Brandon said. “There was some news value to
it. Most of the news conferences at the university, most places in fact, are
simply vehicles to get a company’s name in the newspaper.”
“I
tend to agree,” she said. “We try to keep that in mind when we hold news
conferences. Sometimes we succeed and other times we’re pressured in having a
non-news event.”
“You
mentioned about having some other things coming up,” Brandon said, wanting to
hurry up and get through the business end of the conversation.
“Well, it’s nothing I can really divulge at this moment other than to tell you
that I have two that are sports-related, one with basketball and the other
baseball,” she said. “It has more to do with capital improvements.”
“Well, let me know when you’re ready to stage them and we may staff them,” he
said.
“How
long have you been a sportswriter?” she asked.
“Nearly twenty-five years,” he said. “Since about the day I graduated from
college.”
“I
bet it’s really interesting, going to all the games and meeting the
personalities involved.”
“It’s interesting at times but few games are memorable and most of the athletes
and coaches are full of themselves,” he said with a chuckle.
“Isn’t it that way in most things?” she asked.
“Probably so.”
“I
bet it’s difficult having a family being a sportswriter.”
“I
think it is,” Brandon said. “But I wouldn’t have first-hand knowledge because
I’ve never been married.”
“Oh,” she said. “Forgive me if I’m getting too personal.”
“No
problem,” he said, taking a sip of water. “I just chose never to get married.
I’ve seen what this profession can do to relationships. I also know a few
alcoholics who are sportswriters.”
The
waitress returned with their food. They sat quietly for a few minutes as they
ate. There was a soft buzz around them of many people talking business and an
occasional table being cleared by a busboy.
Brandon looked at Clarice’s left hand and noticed that she wasn’t wearing a
wedding band. He knew that didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t married since many
couples didn’t wear rings.
“Speaking of professions, how long have you been in public relations?” he asked.
After swallowing some food, Clarice cleared her throat and said, “About eighteen
years. I worked for agencies in Chicago, New York and Los Angeles before I came
here four years ago.”
“What brought you here?”
“My
husband’s job. He’s an engineer at the automotive plant.”
“Any
children?”
“No
kids. Actually my marriage is a casualty of the profession. We divorced about a
year ago.”
“I’m
sorry,” Brandon said. “Forgive me for getting too personal.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “He wanted to have children and I didn’t. I have some
things I’d like to do in my job. He wanted me to quit and start having babies. I
guess he was worried about my biological clock running down. He remarried about
six months ago and his wife is already expecting so I guess things turned out
well for him.”
“And
you, too?”
“I’m
not complaining. Howard and I are still on good terms. We just moved in
different directions over the years.”
The
waitress returned and asked if they wanted any dessert. They both declined but
each ordered a cup of coffee.
“Do
you plan to stay here?” Brandon asked.
“I’m
not so sure,” she said. “They’ve made me a vice president. I wouldn’t mind going
back to a larger city, perhaps Atlanta. There’s more of a challenge in the big
cities. I’ve had a few offers but I’m not ready to make that kind of commitment
just yet. How about you?”
“Oh,
I think I’m here for the duration,” Brandon said with a smile. “I’ve paid my
dues in the rat race. Now I just want to enjoy life and do the things that I
want to do.”
“I’ve thought about that, too,” she said. “I think the older you get you begin
to realize there are things more important than work. I’m just not at the point
yet.”
“You’ll get there before you know it,” Brandon said.
Clarice looked at her watch.
“I
need to be going,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment with a client at
one-thirty. I’m glad that you were able to have lunch today. I enjoyed it.”
“Same here,” Brandon said as he placed the napkin next to his cup. “Perhaps we
can do it again?”
“Yes, I’d like that,” Clarice said, smiling brightly.
Brandon motioned for the waitress to bring their bill. He picked it up after she
laid it on the side of the table.
“Let
me take that,” Clarice said. “I invited you.”
“I’ve got it,” he said. “Perhaps you can treat next time.”
“It’s a deal.”
Brandon put his American Express on the check and the waitress retrieved it. She
returned a few minutes and he signed the receipt. Brandon and Clarice walked out
of the restaurant together, pausing out front for a moment, then she walked to
the right and he went to the left to their cars.
Brandon turned the ignition in his car and pulled out of the parking lot. It was about a ten-minute drive to his office. His thoughts were on Clarice the entire time. She was a lovely woman, more so now that he got to gaze at her across a table. He was impressed by her demeanor. She seemed to be in control of her life. He also found her to be honest and genuine, at least the first impression. But he knew from experience that first impressions didn’t always pan out.