The Lunch with Ellie

With a light and nervous heart, Allen descended the stairs. Reaching the bottom, he smoothed the sleeves of his shirt, examining his pants then swallowing, nervously. He walked carefully from the staircase to the door, dropped his head, knocking on the door. It opened nearly immediately. He gave a startled blink.

"I've been expecting you. I was hoping you'd be punctual. C'mon in and make yourself at home," Ellie said, gesturing toward her living room. "Go on in to my inner sanctum, as I call it, and relax. I'm fixing macaroni and cheese with tomatoes, bacon bits and onions in it. I've got it almost mixed and I'll put it in the oven. You're not Jewish are you?" she asked, brows knitted. "I didn't think about that before putting the bacon in with the macaroni."

Allen chuckled, instantly relaxing. "No, I'm not Jewish. You're very thoughtful because I'd never have thought about someone being Jewish and worry about pork." He laughed, happily. "Thank you for inviting me. I've been thinking about this since you left." He got quiet for a moment, lowering his head and looking directly at her. "I want to tell you that it's been a long time since I've been in someone else's home. I might be awkward. I'm just apologizing in advance." He was 30 years old but felt like a teenager on his first date. Was this a date, he wondered? "I'm also not used to people being nice to me, hell, being nice, period. I'm also quiet around people. It's the prison thing so if I don't talk it has nothing to do with you. If I get out of line, just tell me, okay?"

It was her turn to laugh. "I will but I doubt that you'll get out of line. You'll be fine. I hadn't thought about it but you're probably not used to being around people in their homes. I guess I came on a little forward upstairs but I am glad that you've come down to lunch with me. I better tell you that I'm not sure of how to act around you just like you're not used to acting around me. We'll learn together. Have a seat and I'll put the casserole in the oven. Would you like something to drink, water, soda, beer?"

"If you'll have a beer, I'd like one, too. Otherwise, I'll just have Pepsi if you have that."

"I'll have a beer with you. Please, have a seat and I'll join you in a minute." She smiled at him, heading toward her kitchen.

He sat on the sofa and began looking around the room. It was bright, very unlike the surroundings that he'd known for nearly 13 years. There were pictures and paintings on the walls displaying happiness and life. In the prison cells, the pictures were usually disgusting and pornographic depicting denigration, shame and anger; this was a very pleasant change. He found himself staring at a picture with a number of people in it and, from where he sat, they appeared to be smiling and laughing. Allen got up and walked toward a specific one that had captured his attention. He leaned forward and studied the picture: five people of various ages smiling and laughing, apparently happy with each other, happy with life. In particular, he noticed the skinny girl on the left with glasses, her mouth wide open in what he imagined was either amazement or a guffaw. Allen smiled.

"That was my family; I'm the one with her mouth wide open. My dad always said I'd catch flies because I was always laughing or talking. Basically, I had my mouth wide open just like that," Ellie told him, handing him a beer. Taking the bottle, he looked at her face. Despite being perfectly formed and flawless, there was a sadness that he didn't understand but certainly knew.

"You look happy there. Family picnic?"

"It was and an impromptu family picture." Holding out her hand and pointing, she began explaining who each person was. "Next to me on the left, that was my Mom, my sister Ellen, Mom had a thing for names beginning with '˜El', my other sister Eloise and that guy to the far right, he's my now ex-boy friend, ex-husband. Yeah, it was a happy time." She moved around Allen and straightened the picture to the right. "This is a picture of my grandparents, Darrell and Dorothy, and the next picture is of me when I was ten. My mouth is open in it, too," she laughed. "It was a good family." She went quiet.

"It was a good family? Isn't it still?" Allen asked.

"They're all dead, most of '˜em any way."

"Oh, I'm sorry. What -- never mind," Allen said softly, wishing he hadn't asked anything.

"It's okay. I like remembering them. Let's have a seat." Ellie sat down in the large overstuffed chair next to the sofa Allen had occupied. "You were going to ask what happened to them. Life happened, I guess. My grandparents died a few years ago, both in their nineties but everyone else died much too soon." She sipped her beer.

"All of them?" he asked, incredulous. He was used to death, having been part of several bad episodes in prison or for what had sent him to prison but the people in the picture, her sisters, they couldn't have been much more than his own age.

"Ellen died in a private plane crash and Eloise got breast cancer. It was too late when they discovered it. My ex, I'm not certain he's dead but he might as well be for all I care. Mom died two years ago from a broken heart. The doctors said she died of a cardiac infarction but I know why she died: Dad cheated on her and she found out. She couldn't understand why he'd cheated because she had loved him so much. He died not long after she did. Men do things without thinking, at least most men. I don't know you so I'm not saying that you're guilty but by and large men act on impulse. His impulse was to screw other women," she told Allen. There was an edge to her voice and he sensed the anger in her present state of mind.

"I'm sorry I said anything, Ellie. I don't have all of the social skills I should have. That's an excuse but true. I'll have to learn to keep my mouth shut," he took a big swallow of his beer. "I'm pretty good at keeping my mouth shut. If you say the wrong thing to the wrong person in prison, it can be painful. You're very pretty and I'm going to violate what I just said but why aren't you married? Emil told me you were single," he looked at her, watched her reaction.

"I was married as I said. I have some problems, some sharp edges you might say, and I tend to push people away. I've learned about life the hard way. Listen to me! You just got out of prison and I'm carrying on. Would you like another beer? I'm going to have one so you might as well join me," she asked, standing. Allen nodded at her. "Good because I hate to drink alone and I drink a lot. Use your imagination and you'll be right. I'll be right back." She didn't answer his question.

Allen frowned; he wondered what she meant. He shook his head. Life outside of prison seemed to be confusing. Prison had a set of rules that were followed by everyone because the consequences could be fatal. Life outside the walls seemed to be just as nasty but with different consequences and not necessarily better; they might not be fatal but he realized at that moment they were very painful. It might be more difficult to live in pain than to be dead. He would have to learn the rules.

His first lunch in his first home as a grown man was different than he'd imagined but Allen decided that he hadn't had any expectations. Ellie Watson was very pleasant company although she seemed to be troubled; Allen knew about being troubled. He was aware that he was very attracted to the pretty woman sitting in the easy chair. He was approaching thirty one but unschooled in the graces of the outside world and certainly didn't know about women. He wanted to get to know women. Listening to her talk put him at ease; the sound of her voice was so gentle and soothing that he found himself nearly hypnotized by the softness. He purposely put off asking more about her and her family. He wasn't comfortable answering questions about his past, either, so he decided to steer the conversation to something else.

Allen didn't have much experience being a conversationalist. Conversation in prison had consisted of graphic descriptions of the female anatomy, swearing violently at something or the occasional rebuking of a fellow inmate invading the other's space, warning them that serious bodily harm could await them if the warning wasn't heeded. This was much more relaxed but he wasn't certain it was nicer. There seemed to be a lot of unseen dangers lurking everywhere just as there had been in the Fort. He knew about the dangers in the Fort, now he would have to learn about the dangers on the outside.

" -- and I finally decided that I'd had enough to drink and needed to get home. Of course, I shouldn't have been driving but I managed to get back here without an accident. That was a fun night, five years ago," she sighed. "I've prattled on, here, and I'm sorry. I don't have guests very much so I run off at the mouth. I'll shut up now and let you tell me about you."

"You don't have to stop. I loved the story. Your voice; it's been a long time since I've had a woman to speak with and I had forgotten how nice the female voice is. Yours is particularly nice," Allen told her, anxious for her to continue talking. She was very soothing.

"I have to ask, Allen. Why were you in prison? If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. You seem like a very nice man and I'm just surprised."

He looked at her, twisting his mouth to the side. Did he want to tell and have her think him a monster? He wasn't certain but he knew that he'd have to tell people about why he'd spent time at the Fort eventually. He just hadn't anticipated meeting someone like Ellie. He smiled at her name; it suited her. One way or the other, she would find out about him so he needed to decide about what to tell her, to find out if he would be a pariah after he'd disclosed his past or if he might have the opportunity to enjoy beer and a meal with her in the future. He liked the present situation and decided to avoid explaining. "Right now I don't want to tell you. I want to get to know you better and then, if I feel safe, I'll probably tell you. You're nice and I like what we're doing." He shut up, looking at her for a reaction.

"I shouldn't have asked, it's none of my business. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, Allen. Forgive me?" Allen was surprised.

"No one asks forgiveness in prison unless they're about to be beaten or killed so you don't need to be sorry. Ellie, I'll tell you sometime but right now I'd like to just be happy about being out if you don't mind." Suddenly, she stood up, facing him. Placing both hands on his shoulders, she bent down and kissed his cheek.

"I am sorry and will respect your privacy in the future. You're a nice man, Allen Kessler. It would be nice to get to know you. Would you like to go to a movie?" Allen was startled.

"I would but I'm not sure I have enough money to go. It's been a long time and I'm fairly sure that they're not cheap."

"I can afford to take you despite what Emil has told you. Dad left me enough that I don't have to work, so I don't. Emil thinks this is my only income. Let's keep this our secret, okay?" Allen agreed. "What would you like to see?" He told her he had no idea of what was playing. "Well then, will you let me decide?"

"I trust you, Ellie." He was surprised by that statement because he trusted virtually no one about anything. "I don't know what has been made and playing so I'll leave it up to you."

"I know exactly what I want to see! I was going by myself but since you're here, alone, I'd like to take you to see '˜Erin Brockovich'. I hear she's really a bitch," Ellie laughed, "like me."

Allen smiled. "I haven't been to a theatre to see a movie in 14 years. Thank you, Ellie."