"Bill, I have to talk to you," Wade said to Bill walking into his office at Houston Oil.
"What is it, Wade? Sit down," Bill said, gesturing to one of the two chairs across from his desk.
"I wanted to thank you for helping me get back in the swing of things after the war," Wade said.
"I couldn't imagine doing anything else," Bill said. "But?"
"But, I think it's time for me to move on," Wade said.
"Oh?"
"Yes. I'd like to strike out on my own and be a wildcatter for a while," Wade said.
"Well, you know how risky that is, Wade, right?"
"Yes. I think that's what's drawing me to it right now. Ever since getting back from the war, I feel like I have to move all the time. I'm craving the action I had there. I seem to need some risk to feel alive," Wade said.
"I suppose that's understandable, but are you sure you don't need to think about it a little longer? There are a lot of wildcatters out there competing to strike it rich, and most of them don't make it."
"I know. I just need to make my own way for a while," Wade replied.
"Well, if you need any help, let me know. I'm here for you," Bill said.
"Thanks Bill. I know and I appreciate it," Wade said. "There is one thing I need in the short term."
"Anything," Bill said.
"Can I use your geologist and surveyor if I find some land that I think has oil? They'd have to be on your payroll until I start making some money."
"Sure," Bill said. "As long as you need."
"It probably won't be long. I have a hunch and I think it will pay off. I'll pay you back as soon as I can."
"I know you're good for it, Wade," Bill replied.
Wade's hunch was that there was oil under his family's land in Round Top. His siblings had all moved to California for work and his parents moved in with his sister and her husband who worked construction. The Matlock land still belonged to the family but lay dormant due to the family's absence. Wade brought Bill's geologist in to inspect the rock on the land, even though he had read some books on the subject and felt confident there was oil under the ground. The geologist was about 65% certain that there was oil under the ground based on his observations. Wade had Bill's surveyor map out the land and he contacted his family to share his intent. He offered to give his parents 20% of the profits and 10% to each of his siblings, and he'd keep 50% since he was putting in all the capital and taking the risks. The family agreed since none of them cared for the land anymore. After that, he had the agreements with his family drawn up and the title to the land was granted to him by his parents. He arranged a loan with the bank to help with financing construction and drilling. Bill cosigned the loan.
In June of 1945, after drilling for a month with a small crew, Wade's dream came true. He struck oil on his family's land. Within a few more months he was pumping and selling oil. He made enough on this first venture to pay back Bill with interest as well as the bank loan and was also able to compensate his family and still make a sizeable profit. He purchased more land nearby and kept drilling and finding oil well into the next year. 1946 proved to be an excellent year for Wade as he amassed a small personal fortune.
Early in the winter of 1947, Wade was having lunch at one of his favorite restaurants, the Triple A. A new waitress came up to his table, or at least one he hadn't seen before. She had brown hair that appeared to be quite long, though it was obscured by a knit hair net. She had large dark brown eyes and a dimple in her left cheek. Wade happened to be wearing a suit that day due to a meeting and he wore his hair slicked back as well.
"Sir, may I get you something to drink?" the waitress asked.
"Uh, um, yes," he said, looking at the menu so as to not stare at her.
"I'll take a glass of buttermilk and some water," Wade said.
"Okay," she said with a big smile, "I'll be right back," she said.
Wade pretended to read his menu while he was actually watching her walk away, sizing up the harmony of her personal dimensions. A few minutes later, the waitress returned.
She put down the drinks. "Do you know what you'd like for lunch, sir?" she asked.
"Uh, um….let's see….I'd like a chicken fried steak, some French fries, and the vegetable of the day."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you what it is. I'm new. Sorry. It's turnip greens," she said.
"That's alright. There's not much I won't eat. I'll take the turnip greens," he said with a smile.
She picked up his menu and began to turn away.
"What's your name?" Wade asked.
"Oh, no," she said, turning back, and lightly smacking her forehead, "I forgot to tell you that too. I'm just nervous. This is my first job."
"That's alright," he said, and then waited for her response.
"Thanks," she said. "My name is Susan."
"Nice to meet you, Susan? My name is Wade Matlock," he said.
"Ferguson. Your name sounds like a cowboy name if I ever heard one," she said.
"Not a cowboy, but I can see that," he replied with another smile.
"Well, your food should be ready soon, Mr. Matlock," she said.
"Call me Wade. I come here a lot," he said.
"Okay, Wade. See you in a few minutes," she replied.
"Lookin' forward to it," he said.
She gave him a puzzled but intrigued look and walked away. Another waitress brought Wade his food.
"What happened to Susan?" he asked the matronly lifelong waitress.
"She's getting food for another table. We all run each other's food," she said.
Wade started eating his food, reassured that he didn't offend Susan. She walked up to Wade a few minutes later.
"Did you get everything you asked for?" she asked.
"Yep," he said between bites.
"Does it taste alright?" she asked.
"It's great," he said.
"Glad to hear it," she said with a smile. "Be back in a few minutes."
He smiled and kept eating. When he finished eating, he placed his napkin over his plate as was his habit. He checked his hair in the window next to his table and straightened his tie. Susan saw the covered plate and came over to bus his table.
"Would you like some dessert, Wade?" she asked.
"No thanks, Susan," he said. "I've got to get back to work."
"Okay. Well, maybe I'll see you again sometime," she replied.
Wade took this to be his opportunity. "Actually, Susan, I think you're absolutely beautiful and I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me some time."
Susan blushed. "Oh, gosh. I'm not that beautiful," she said as she turned her face out of shyness or embarrassment. Wade didn't know which.
"What? You've got to be kidding me. You've got to get asked out all the time," he said.
"No. Not really," she said.
"Well, there must be a lot of intimidated men out there, then," he said. "I'm not one of them."
"Intimidated?" she wondered.
"What do you say? Will you have dinner with me?"
"When?"
"Whenever you want," he replied.
She thought to herself for a bit. "Well, I'm pretty busy this week, training and working at the restaurant and all," she said.
"Which would be better? A week night?"
"Actually, Wednesday night next week would be good, because I'm not working. The restaurant runs with a skeleton crew because all the Baptists are at church."
Wade laughed. "Wednesday it is. What would you like to eat?"
"There's this new place, called the Barbeque Inn. I hear it's really good. It's only a couple of miles from here and not too far from my apartment," she replied.
"Would you like me to pick you up?" Wade asked.
"I could meet you there," she replied.
"Great. How about 6:30? Church should be in full swing at that time," he said.
She laughed. "Okay. I'll meet you there next Wednesday at 6:30."
Wade stood up and put down a generous but not flashy tip. "I'll see you then, Susan," he said with a smile.
Wednesday came and Wade stood outside the Barbeque Inn waiting for Susan. He was wearing some dark brown casual slacks, a khaki shirt, a deep red tie, and a light brown leather jacket. A few minutes after he arrived, he observed Susan walking down the side walk under the street lights toward him. As she approached, he watched her face and down to her figure with her ample hips swaying in the black broad-checked skirt she wore. As she came up to him, he saw her hair was out of the hair net and it hung in waves past her shoulders and she had a smile on her face.
"Am I late?" she asked.
"No. You're just on time," Wade said.
"Oh, good. Ready to go in?"
"Absolutely," he said. "After you." She turned and he escorted her in with his hand on the small of her back.
They were seated and the waiter got them their drinks and took their orders.
"You look very pretty tonight," Wade said.
She blushed and averted her gaze. "Thanks. You're sweet."
"You're welcome. I mean it," Wade said. "Tell me about yourself."
"Not much to tell, really. I'm 25. I grew up just outside of Houston. I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle on my mother's side. I've been on my own since I was 18."
"What happened to your parents?"
"My father lost his job in the Depression and became a heavy drinker. He died from drinking bad bootleg liquor. My mother couldn't manage being a mother after that and had a nervous breakdown and her sister took me in when I was 9."
"Tough for a kid," Wade said.
"It was at first, but my aunt and uncle have been great parents and took wonderful care of me," she replied.
"That's good," Wade said.
"What about you?" she asked.
"Well, I'm 31. I was born in Round Top and have a sister and two brothers who now live in California. I was in the CCC when I was a teenager. Since then, I've worked in oil in a variety of jobs," he said.
"What about your parents? Are they still alive?" she asked.
"Yes. They're in California with my sister," he said.
"Oil, huh? What do you do now?" she asked.
"I handle the business side more, now. I used to be a roustabout and a general operations manager," Wade said vaguely.
"Oh," she said, but didn't pry.
"So, I gather you're not Baptist by the joke you make last week," he said.
She thought to herself, "Oh yeah. No. I'm not Baptist. I'd say I'm Christian, but I'm not a church-goer. A lot of these Baptists seem to be putting on a show to me."
"My friend Bill is a Baptist, but he's not a regular church-goer either. He's more about 'walking the walk', which is what I appreciate about him," he said.
"What about you?"
"You know how they say that there are no atheists in fox holes?"
"Yes."
"Well, that may be true, but there are definitely atheists that survive those fox holes," he said.
"So you're an atheist?" she asked.
"Is that a problem?" he asked.
"No. I've just never met one before," she said.
"Well, I'm really more of an agnostic, but war taught me that the God I was taught to believe in did not exist, and I was the only one who was going to get myself out of that foxhole," Wade said.
"When did you get out?"
"June of 1944, but I had some recuperation time before I came back stateside."
"Where were you wounded?" she asked.
"In the leg, but it's fine now," he replied.
"That's good."
"What kind of work have you done besides waitressing?" he asked.
"Housecleaning, mainly. That can be dicey, though. A lot of husbands like to chase the maid," she said.
Wade's ire was raised. "Well, that's terrible."
She shrugged it off. "That's life."
"Now I feel bad that I asked you out on your job," he said.
"Don't be. You weren't exactly chasing me around a kitchen and you were quite the gentleman," she said.
"Ever been married?" he asked.
"No. You?" she asked.
"No. Haven't found the time," he said.
"Are you trying to find the time, now?" she asked directly.
He smiled and said coyly, "Maybe. How are we doing tonight?" he asked.
"I think we're doing fine so far," she said.
After about 4 months of courting, Wade and Susan were married in a small ceremony in Houston. Bill and Rebecca and Susan's aunt and uncle were in attendance. A few months later, Bill and Rebecca had some news of their own: Rebecca was pregnant a second time.