And like that, it was Saturday. Andy was strumming his guitar on his front porch, having just got off the phone with Mr. Rawlings, who happily reported that it was 'just a bobcat afterall,' so Andy 'didn't need to keep lookin' for the chicken-snatcher.' Opie and Aunt Bee were just getting done packing for a trip out to Aunt Bee's sister's house. Aunt Bee came out carrying her knapsack, and Opie trailed behind her. Andy looked up to see them ready, set down his guitar and stood up.
"You all ready to go?"
"Sure are, pa," Opie cheerfully piped.
"Yes, I think we are... Oh, Andy are you sure you don't want to come? I know they'd be glad to have you."
"I know they would... I just kind of need to stay here and... mull things over." Aunt Bee eyed Andy sympathetically, as Barney's blunt intervention the day before sort of brought Andy down.
"Well, alright, if you think that's what's best, then I think we're ready to go to the train station."
"Alrighty! Let's load up," Andy grinned, and assisted his son and Aunt to the squad car.
A few hours passed; it was about 7 p.m. Andy got home from the train station. He went inside, grabbed his guitar and came back out on the porch. He played The Fox, Slick-Bottomed River, Old Man Tucker... huh, Old Man Tucker was one of Helen's favorites. Before Andy knew it, he wasn't strumming his guitar anymore, but was off in a mental tangent about Helen. I was too hard on her. How could I let my mouth run? The one time I lose my patience, I lose my girl, too... Andy sighed.
He suddenly realized he had never gotten the mail that day. He set down his guitar again and went out to the mail box.
He opened and shut the metal container and began to flit through the mail, sifting through the junk and the non-junk.
"Junk... advertisement... bill... junk... junk. Well, I'll be dogged, not even one decent letter. Oh, well." Just as Andy turned to go back to the porch, a jalopy of a Volkswagen Beetle drove up. The car parked right in front of Andy, and the driver's window rolled down. An attractive woman with long, brunette hair vaguely familiar to Andy peeked her head out.
"Well, hey there, stranger," the woman said, removing her sunglasses.
"Ellie?"