Lucille, I know one day you will read this, if you are not already. You are the angel of my life coming to me in a deep darkness, an guiding light out of the forest. My partner, wife, best friend and kindred spirit. A true blessing, wrapped in such a beautiful embrace of love, commitment, understanding, your arms and smile. I love you, truly dear.
I hadn't had the chance to tell Stan that we were dating, he was going through a divorce, Hal canned him and then... He was in a confusing situation with Buster that I wished not to be apart of.
I did not wish to argue, nonetheless I walked away from him, as painful as it was, because I felt it was giving a child under punishment candy and carnival tickets. When you... I wanted him to better himself, with himself.
It was scary with him being married to that first Russian gal, Illena? He really wanted nothing to do with her, it was a drunken marriage. He thought she was somehow good company. Ruth had a fit and stormed the hotel where they were screaming of him being a polygamist. So angry she forgot they had divorced a few days before, if not the very day before.
Stan is desperately afraid to be alone. I laugh because I can say whatever else about him on paper or out loud, shucks, I can call him the Easter Bunny, however I can't... Well, Stan... I shalt. You told me to put it away, keep it.
I missed Stan at our wedding, I also felt if we were more social that he would not have drunk away '39 through '40. We cannot, nor should we let ourselves reminisce on events in our lives that are far gone with unpleasant crops. The only thing we can and should do is live meaningful, thoughtful, charitable lives that help one another through kindness as much as we can spare, then after that, give more!
I called Stan after he remarried Ruth. Figuring he had come to his senses we arranged a dinner date for the four of us. It was a cool autumn night. Nervousness replaced the blood in my veins, gulping every few minutes. Being away such a while from you socially, we had only made our last movie with Roach just a few months ago. I hope the fans never catch on how cold it was between us in the 'Blockheads', 'Saps at Sea' and 'Chumps...' movies.
Ruth opened the front door of your fort. I'm not a claustrophobic, but the house, being in circled within those walls, Lucille. Stan loves gardening, fishing, feeding birds, and for him to shut off from the world. He and Lois said it was to keep away from Illena, however, we both know Stan is a complicated man. Illena disappeared without a trace, I know he wasn't immediantely worried about her. Those walls were a stone security blanket if you ask me.
"Are you coming in?" Ruth barked. One hand on the doorknob and the other on her hip. Her eyes were as cold as the surface of the moon. She mostly stared at you, Lucille.
The both of us went in, I felt you and I were going into the lions den. The door closed heavy behind us, with Ruth saying, it closes firmly.
The dinner was so quiet. My known and new jokes fell through the floor with a few smirks and nods from Stan, then Ruth giving a side-eye and a even smaller lip alteration.
The night went on at the patio. You had such a beautiful garden, Stanley. Stanley, Stanley, how did your garden grow? When I get better Stan, I think that would make a great sketch!
Ruth seemed very uncomfortable. She is a good woman and loves you, I'm sure always will, Stan, nonetheless we all knew, she knew it was a mistake to get hitched again. Lucille took Ruth asking for a tour of the home saying you and I needed time to speak. She was right.
Swallowing the rest of my avid fear, I turned toward Stan, whom was sitting across from me on that lovely wicker table that I still have outside. You didn't look at me, Stan. I knew his game, trying to fish me in, make me apologize. It was not that night, was it, Stanley?
I settled back into a front sitting position, lacing my fingers together, I rested my palms a top of my belly.
"Dinner was lovely, Stan." I said looking forward. "Did Ruth cook it? A servant?"
"You did..." He replied.
I was taken a back for a moment, snapped my gaze to Stan, then darted my eyes down. Twiddling my fingers and nodding my head, I realize what he met.
Stan and I have a language of our own. I do not know If I recollected this before, however it is something that I treasure greatly between us. We speak in so many ways, even when we are apart, we still speak, without a phone. Our souls call one another. We are linked. I know you realize this, Lucille.
"So it was-"
"Yes, Babe... I thought it would be fitting. You were visiting. What of it?"
"Well, it came out-the recipe you and yours prepared, was excellent."
I looked at him with a smile.
Stan gave me a Ruth-ian side eye as he stood up, then turned away from me lighting a cigarette. This made me shoot out of the chair, fists clenched, lips tightened and rolled in. I caught myself before getting angry. it was his home, with his wife and my wife.
"Stan. I hope that you will come over for dinner sometime. Little Lois asks me if you come over. I don't lie to the girl. I tell her you are up to something, like writing. You should know her mother drops her off to swim, right?"
"I knew it..." Stan said in a heavy, low breath.
"Well, yes, I thought little Lois would tell you. it has been a while... Too long. Look, Stanley."
Suddenly Stan spun to me as if his heels were greased. He had the most angry, frightening face, to this day I had ever seen on him.
"The both of you are getting along fine... That's what it is?! Talking about me, my wrongs, what I did, did not do, should of done?"
"Stan... Stan, no. I have rarely brought you up with Big Lois. Little Lois brings you up the most. I would never, ever disrespect you in front of your child nor the mother of the girl... Stan... How..."
Stan looked down, then his head dropped. I shook my head, rolled back my tongue, then turned to leave. Stan called me quietly, as not to make a scene, briefly reaching out his hand to grab at me. I stopped, turned to him. took his hand and shook it in a friendly way as between gentlemen.
"The offer still stands, Stanley. Congratulations on your commitment to Ruth. She loves you. Take care of one another."
"Yes, Oliver..." Stan nodded. "Thank you. Congratulations on your marriage also."
It put me in a desert of wind, blowing, burning sand and freezing snow on open wounds. He had not called me Oliver since the first day we met, Lucille, even then He called me Babe.