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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Fantasy / Dreams / Wishes
- Published: 01/12/2021
Personal Ad
Born 1934, F, from Silver Spring, MD, United States.jpeg)
Personal Ad
Debbie gripped the envelope. She slipped the letter inside the mail drop and rubbed sweaty palms on her slacks. She peeked over the half-walls of her cubicle and grabbed the phone.
“Sarah, can you talk?”
“For a sec.”
“I did it.”
Sarah’s squeal pierced the phone lines. “I’ll meet you for lunch at the diner and tell you everything.” Debbie said. Then she attacked the insurance claims covering her desk at the veteran’s hospital.
“When do you think you’ll hear something?” Sarah asked.
“It’ll be in Saturday’s paper.” Debbie’s said.
“Tell me what you wrote.”
“SWF who likes travelling and sports ISO SWM for friendship and perhaps something more.“
“Break the code for me.”
“Single white female in search of single white male.”
Mike and JP always met for lunch on Saturday at Cleary’s, before the O’s played. Their table was usually littered with the sports section; today Mike was reading the personal ads.
“Hey dude, getting desperate?” JP asked; he smiled as his friend circled one of the ads.
“I’m going to try an experiment.”
“What now?”
The waitress brought two beers and their sandwiches. “Tonight I’m going to be you. I’m answering this ad and will show up in your wheelchair. If she agrees to another date I’ll win the bet. You said no woman would date a guy in a wheelchair; I’m going to prove you wrong.”
“What’s my part in the bet?”
“If I win you have to get a prosthesis. Afghanistan is over; you lost part of your leg. That’s history. Get back into life.”
JP picked up his beer and tapped Mike’s and said, ”It’s a deal.”
“So when are you going to call?”
Mike grabbed his cell phone and dialed.
Debbie telephoned Sarah. ”Let’s meet for lunch. I got a reply to my ad and I’m meeting him tonight; I want your opinion.”
“Sure what do you want my opinion of?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Let’s meet at Mama Mia’s.”
Debbie sat at a window table and watched Sarah approach the front door. She looked over the crowd. Debbie heard her say to the hostess, “I’m meeting a friend, I guess she hasn’t come yet.”
Debbie waved and smiled.
Sarah gasped and ran over to the table. ”What have you done to yourself?”
“I had a makeover.”
“You look gorgeous.”
“You think?”
At Cleary’s the crowd was screaming for their team, pounding the tables and stomping the floor. JP nudged Mike. ”I want to take your place tonight. Just to prove my point.”
“You have to try to make a good impression.”
“What time are you meeting her at O’Donnell’s?”
Debbie was walking on the cobblestone street hurrying to beat the rain. ”There’s never any parking around here,” she grumbled. She smiled at her reflection in the window as she passed the candle shop and waved at the owner who did a double- take. Debbie’s long dark curly hair was in a new style and her make-up was perfect.
Suddenly heavy raindrops splattered everyone as the skies opened up. She leaned against the heavy door pushing it open with her shoulder. Debbie looked around the restaurant. She was drenched, water puddling at her feet. A man, wearing a baseball cap sitting in a wheelchair, was watching from a corner table. “I’m meeting someone for dinner,” she said to the waitress.
“Hon, if you don’t see him why don’t you stop at the ladies and get yourself dried off and I’ll find you a seat.”
The waitress checked out the crowded room and saw an empty chair at JP’s table. She took Debbie over.
“JP, do you mind if this young lady waits at your table?”
”Not at all.”
“Thanks. I’m Debbie, guess the guy I’m supposed to meet isn’t here yet, or he’s going to be a no show.”
“What’s his name?”
“Mike. He’s a blind date. I’m kind of glad he’s not here, me looking like this.”
They both laughed as water dripped from her hair onto the table. “I look like a wet dog.”
“Well that kind of evens things out, me and my friend here,” he tapped the arm of his wheelchair.
Debbie noticed Operation Enduring Freedom logo on his cap. “Afghanistan?”
“Yeah, been back about six months.”
“What did they say about a prosthesis? I’m not being nosy. I handle claims at the Vet’s hospital.”
“I’ve been meaning to look into that. One of these days…”
“Good, I’d like to know how it goes. In fact when you make your appointment give me a call. I’ll walk you to the clinic. It’s kind of hard to find.” She pushed her business card to him and their hands touched briefly. Their eyes met and she felt a warm glow rush through her. JP smiled and thought, this is one bet I’m happy to lose, because I think I won.
Eileen Callan
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