Friendship is something we all value. We try to be there for our friends and help them out when needed.

However, sometimes, the advice we provide may be wrong. This could be the case in . . .

She

     Early Monday morning, the doorbell rang. I had finished breakfast and busied myself straightening up the kitchen. I glanced at the clock. Not quite nine. Who could it be at this hour? I thought. I hustled to the front door and swung it open. Cindy appeared in the doorway, with a frown on her face.

     “What’s wrong?” I asked.

     She stared at me. Then tears began to roll down her cheeks. Her hands shook and her breathing became labored. I closed the front door and reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

     “Cindy, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”

     She stood there without saying a word. But I could see her chest heaving as she attempted to speak. She started to gasp, as the words came pouring out of her mouth. “Irene, Frank left me. He’s gone. Disappeared. Didn’t leave a message.”

     “How long has he been gone?”

     Wheezing, she sputtered, “Two days.”

     “Two days? Just two days?”

     “But he’s never done that before. He’s always told me when he’s going to be away. I’m beside myself. I thought we had a strong relationship. Could he be dating someone else? Irene, I don’t know what to do.”

     “Take a deep breath. Get a hold of yourself.”

     “Okay, I’ll try. I’m sorry for my outburst. But he means so much to me.”

     “Cindy, I know you care about him. He seemed like a nice guy when we met him at the Sunset Senior Singles dance at the clubhouse in April. But that was just eight weeks ago. I didn’t know you guys had agreed not to date others.”

     “Well, no. We never discussed it.”

     “And you don’t live together. Maybe he’s been busy.”

     “But he would have called. Wouldn’t he?”

     “How should I know? I only saw the man that one time. I think you may be overreacting.”

     “I don’t know. We have such a great time when we’re together. We seem to have so much in common. He’s close to my age. In the past, the only guys who have shown an interest in me have been over eighty.”

     “You don’t know that he’s left you. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

     “But maybe he’s found someone else,” Cindy whimpered.

     “In two days? Cindy, Frank, you, and I are all in our early seventies. We don’t move that fast.”

     “But he’s a man. In our senior community, he’s in demand. He can have any woman he wants.”

     “Yeah, that might be true. But men take forever just trying to decide what they want for dinner. How could two days be long enough for him to find and make a decision about another woman? So don’t get so upset about this. He’ll call.”

     Cindy seemed to relax a bit. I caught a hint of a smile on her face. She turned to leave. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, she looked back at me.

     “I feel like such an idiot,” she murmured. I’ve been so lonely since Jack died. It’s been a hard two years. I need someone in my life and I thought Frank was the one.”

     “He might be, Cindy. But you can’t rush into a serious relationship. Take your time.”

     She threw her arms around me and hugged me so tight, I had trouble catching my breath. Then she turned away, opened the front door, and left.

     Two days passed. That afternoon, Donna and I went to our Mystery Novel meeting up at the clubhouse. Eleven women and one man, Gordon, attended the session. He seemed to be trying to make points with the ladies by monopolizing the conversation. I thought Zelda was about to throw something at him to shut him up. She had a rolled up wad of paper in her hand and had begun to move it into a throwing position when our group leader, Maryann, adjourned the meeting.

     I looked at Donna. “Typical man—a know-it-all who wants to be in control,” I quipped.

     “Yeah, but he’s good looking. I wouldn’t mind if he controlled me.“

     “You’re nuts,” I replied.

     As we exited the room, Donna changed the subject. “So, what’s the latest scoop on Cindy and her man? Has he contacted her?”

     “I don’t know. I haven’t heard a word from her since she left my house on Monday.”

     “Everything must be fine then. I wish I had a man in my life. You know, tall, dark, and handsome. Maybe about thirty-five, with bulging muscles.”

     “Keep dreaming, lady. The only way that’s going to happen is to cut a seventy year old in half.”

     “All right. If you’ll hold him down, I’ll do the cutting.”

     We both giggled like teenage girls at a slumber party. As we approached the lodge’s main entrance, I gulped and squealed, “Oh, my God, look at that.”

     “At what?” Donna queried.

     “Over there.” I pointed to a crowd—one man surrounded by four women.

     “So?”

     “The man is Frank. Cindy’s Frank. I guess Cindy was right to be concerned about his not calling. What a creep. What a son of a . . .”

     “Control yourself, girl.”

     “What am I going to tell Cindy? How am I going to break the news to her? This will destroy her.”

     “Shouldn’t you find out what’s going on before thinking the worst?”

     “Well, isn’t it obvious? He’s a womanizer. A creep. A son of a . . .”

     “Not that again. Let’s walk over and say hello and see how he reacts. Do a little detective work.”

     “But I’m no Angela Lansbury on Murder She Wrote. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

     “Do you want to help Cindy, or don’t you, Irene?”

     “Okay, but how should I do this? Or maybe I shouldn’t. There could be a legitimate reason for him being with the women—like working together on a project or something. I wish I could see their faces. I know those who are the real man chasers in the singles group.”

     “Then you’re going to have to march yourself right up to that gathering, get the women to turn around, and snap a picture with your iPhone. Then you’ll have the evidence you’ll need to prove to Cindy what a heel Frank is.” 

     “But he knows me. Why don’t you do it, Donna?”

     “Me? This isn’t my problem. It’s yours.”

     I stood there confused. If I do it, it could be the most awkward thing I’ve ever done in my life. And if I don’t, I could be letting down a very good friend, who needs my help and support. Oh my, what do I do?

     At that moment, Donna nudged me, interrupting my concentration. “Irene, you better look at what’s happening now.”

     I lifted my head and stared at Frank passionately kissing one of the women, while the others cheered. It was awful. Tears welled up in my eyes. I had failed my friend. “That woman, who is she?” I groaned.

     What happened devastated me. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around. In total shock, I found myself staring into Cindy’s bright eyes, illuminated by her smiling face.

     “Hi Irene, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

     “Cindy, I need to tell you something, but you better sit down first.”

     “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m so happy, I can handle anything you have to say.”

     “I don’t think so. Not this.”

     “Come on, Irene. Let’s get it over with. Just give it to me straight.”

     “Yeah, Irene, tell her already,” Donna implored.

     “Oh, hello, Donna,” Cindy said in a cheery voice.

     “Hi, Cindy. Now tell her, Irene.”

     “I hate to do this to you, Cindy,” I muttered.

     I placed my hands on her shoulders and pointed her in the direction of the group of four women and one man. “Look at the woman in the middle of the group. She’s the one,” I voiced with emphasis.

     “She’s the one what?” Cindy asked, somewhat bewildered.

     “Try to hold yourself together, my friend. She’s the one who just kissed Frank in a very passionate way.”

     Cindy burst out laughing. “But that’s not Frank.”

     “What?” I gasped.

     “That’s his identical twin brother, Floyd. And the “she” you’re talking about is his wife. That’s why Frank disappeared from my life for two days. Floyd and Margie eloped to Reno and Frank went with them . . . as their best man. He didn’t tell me because they left at midnight on Friday, the night I last saw him. He called me Monday afternoon when they returned from Reno.

     “Well, when you found out what happened, why didn’t you tell me?”

     “I tried to. But when I called Monday, after I spoke to Frank, to let you know I’d made a big deal out of nothing, you weren’t home. So I attempted to leave a message, but your answering machine said, ‘Memory full.’ Then I got caught up in the whole marriage celebration thing and didn’t get back to you. I’m sorry. Oh, by the way, will you be my maid of honor at my wedding?”

     “Will it take place before or after I wring your neck for what you put me through?”

     “Before, I hope,” she chanted.

Copyright © 2015 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.