In "The Wrong Way Home" Amanda refuses to tell Lee what went wrong with her marriage. Lee turns to another source for answers.
Profiles – by AlaskanFan
After twenty years of renting rooms to law students, I've learned more than a thing or two about reading young men. I've often thought that employers are missing a tremendous resource by not checking references on new graduates with their landladies. We are ever present, but nearly invisible. I always listen to the conversations, but rarely interrupt, so tongues wag freely.
The sudden appearance of Joe King three days ago stirred up memories and confirmed all I suspected about him. Seeing the lovely Amanda West the very next day, and seeing her with Joe again later, brought back other memories. Joe and Amanda had been nearly inseparable. Of course, Amanda didn't attend class with Joe and that's when Jim Saranin would start sniffing around Amanda's skirts. That Jim was as crooked as a dog's hind leg. I would have voted him "Most Likely to Embezzle", but that's another tale for another day. Amanda was so love-struck with Joe that she barely noticed Jim.
Despite his tale of botched hotel reservation, I suspected that Joe was in trouble when he first called. A man like Joe knows how to obtain better accommodations than this old boarding house. It's a fine place for cheap lodgings during grad school, but no one would choose it for a night's stay. Of course, I had a cup of coffee with Joe when he arrived, admired the faded family photo in his wallet, and heard the sad tale of his divorce. I didn't get any details about the current problem, but I was sure that Joe had done no wrong. He is a straight-shooter, and as honest as the day is long. Always has been; always will be.
I wasn't surprised to see Amanda the next day, although I was surprised by the two men accompanying her. One was an African who spoke English with a slight accent and had some odd ways. The other was a good-looking hunk who was clearly in charge. When Amanda said they were trying to locate Joe, I admitted that he had stayed here the night before, but I wasn't willing to give them more information, not until I was sure Joe was in the clear. I told them that Joe left that morning before I got up, but the truth is that I phoned the cab company for him and alerted him to the cab's arrival. I would have told Amanda the truth, but I wasn't sure about the motives of the two men with her.
Imagine my surprise when the hottie returned this morning, asking for more background information on Joe. He had caught me in the midst of sweeping the front porch, so I made the excuse that I needed to wash up before meeting with him. Reflexively, I straightened my shoulders and pulled in my gut while talking to him. While washing my hands in the bathroom, I smoothed my hair and wished that my hair appointment had been scheduled for yesterday instead of next Friday. After doing my best with my hair, I surveyed the rest of my appearance. The old woman in the mirror surprised me. Who am I trying to kid? A mere hair appointment would not be enough to make me attractive to this gorgeous fellow. I pointed my finger at my reflection to emphasize my comments, "Time for a reality check, Mable McDonald. You were never in this man's league even in your best years." Satisfied with my restored sanity, I went to the kitchen and loaded a tray for coffee and blueberry muffins. I was still trying to decide how much to tell this young man.
When Joe came to retrieve his luggage, he assured me that everything had been cleared up, so maybe I'll tell this youngster everything I know, within reason of course. It's been mild for early December, but this morning has a chill and I've lit the gas fireplace in my private sitting area. We can talk in there without interruptions. Entering with the tray, I find him standing at the window. He is as graceful as a cat as he moves to a chair and sits. In the short time I've been preparing, I would bet he has completely memorized the contents of this room and the view from the window. After the business of serving coffee and offering him a muffin, I let him get down to business.
"Mrs. McDonald, I appreciate your meeting with me on such short notice." Ah, a charmer. He plays that smile to its best advantage.
"That's alright, Mr. Stetson. I'm eager to help any way I can."
"Yes, well. I'm trying to complete the file on Joe King, and we need, uh, more background information to establish character and, uh, and... such. Perhaps, you could just tell me what you remember about him from the years he rented a room from you." Despite his confident appearance, Mr. Stetson seemed ill at ease. His left hand fisted and flexed repeatedly, and words seemed to stick in his throat.
"Background information," I repeated, with just a hint of cynicism. "Since he's not a suspect, and indeed uncovered wrong doing, why do you need additional information on his character? Surely his actions speak for themselves." He couldn't sustain my eye contact – fiddled with his tie and brushed lint from his impeccable jacket. How interesting.
"Your, uh, your character witness would be helpful to bolster his credibility if, uh... if the testimony comes down to, you know, his word against his employer's." Even Mr. Stetson was aware that this comment was a bit flimsy. He became overly occupied with sipping his hot coffee.
Whatever Mr. Stetson's motives, my opinion of Joe had always been good and could only be beneficial to him. I decided to plunge right in with my character analysis, proving what a good resource I could be if any Personnel Department ever decided to call.
"Joe King was always an honorable man and always will be. His self-image is built on "doing the right thing" and he won't break that commitment to himself. He cherishes the role of hero and rescuer. He would never stoop to be the villain." My words seemed to disappoint Mr. Stetson. He deflated slightly as I endorsed Joe King so thoroughly. I sip my coffee considering what else to say. Maybe it's the lovely, and available, Amanda West that draws his attention. I'll throw him a bone and see if he perks up.
"Of course, that's what Amanda fell in love with – Joe's noble ideals and righteous ambition. But I'm not surprised the marriage didn't last." I pause to gauge his reaction. Oh, now, Mr. Stetson is leaning forward, new interest in his eyes. There's no wedding ring on his hand, so perhaps he is available, too.
"Oh, not surprised? Why would you say that?" Ah, a dead giveaway - the too-nonchalant tone betrayed by the irrepressible gleam in his eyes. He may have mastered a poker face for professional work, but this conversation is NOT his professional work. He's fishing about Amanda! What a delightful young man.
I shift my weight to settle in the chair more comfortably. This conversation could be quite enjoyable. "Both Amanda and Joe participated in civic projects sponsored by the law fraternity. Their conversation about those projects always piqued my interest. Joe's room was just above the front porch and with the window open, there was little privacy, so I heard them often. On one occasion, they helped refurbish an old building and unpack supplies for a new after-school program. Joe's comments centered on how good he felt to help the under-privileged and how much those children would appreciate his hard work. Amanda's comments focused on how much the children would enjoy the brightly painted walls and the excitement of using new crayons and fresh playdoh. That was typical of them. Joe's good deeds fueled his self-image. Amanda's good deeds spread cheer everywhere she went. Amanda was willing to bolster Joe's ego, but Joe never returned any appreciation for Amanda's desire to bring pleasure."
"Yeah, she's still that way. You should see her with her boys." Mr. Stetson's enthusiasm for this change of subject was evident. I believe he was embarrassed by being so obvious in his admiration for Amanda, because he buried his face in his coffee mug and gestured for me to continue. Well, well, well... as long as Amanda is indeed available, I don't mind fueling his interest. Although, based on that comment, he hardly needs my encouragement.
"I'm not surprised they got married, but no one can give endlessly without sometimes getting something back. And Joe never gave back to Amanda. She was his primary encourager and typist and facilitator. Whatever Joe needed, Amanda would do. Sooner or later, that type of relationship runs out of steam. Amanda loved Joe with all her heart. Joe loved Joe with all his heart, too. He appreciated Amanda, but I doubt he knows how to love another person." I paused, fascinated by the expressions on his face. I could almost see the gears turning as he processed this information. Hmm... observant, analytical, perhaps strategizing his next move already. He's probably good at his job, even if he can't maintain his poker face on personal matters.
I continued my analysis. "Make no mistake. Joe IS noble and good, but he is also rather self-focused. It's difficult for mere mortals to compete with the heroism he embraces. He's a fine man, only not such a good husband for someone as charitable as Amanda."
From my conversation with Joe, I knew that he was expecting some major life changes due to this upheaval in his employment. I could tell that he was hoping to rekindle his marriage with the accommodating Amanda. She deserved better than a rerun of a failed marriage, and maybe she could use some encouragement in the form of some competition for Joe. I don't know if Mr. Stetson is a good choice for her or not, but he seems willing to try for her. Maybe a little push would be appropriate.
"Just between us," I leaned forward confidingly and lowered my volume, "Joe might be hoping to reconcile with Amanda, and it would be so... comfortable for her to fall in that trap a second time. I saw her get swept away by his self-serving idealism once, and I'd hate for that to happen again." I shook my head, tut-tutting my regret.
I straightened in my chair, turned my gaze to the window and speculated out loud, "Perhaps, someone who loves and appreciates Amanda will give her an alternative. She's such a generous soul. It would be a pity for her to give until there's nothing left." Ah-ha! Pay dirt! Mr. Stetson was so motivated by that last part that he couldn't leave fast enough. Maybe that will be enough to keep him in the game until Joe loses interest and moves on to his next noble deed.
I am a good judge of character, if I do say so myself.
The End.
Author's note: For my take on Jim Saranin, see "A Conversation with the Colonel." It's not told from Mrs. McDonald's perspective, but it confirms her general impression of him. ;)
