Myrtle Meets Cynthia

Thursday was also the day Myrtle got Fred’s card in the mail. She read the obviously heart-felt message with mixed feelings, then placed the card, open, on her kitchen table. She was still a little incredulous about it all, but for the first time she considered the possibility that Fred was too. She would have to give this more thought for sure, she thought.

On Saturday, Myrtle saw a florist truck drive by. A few minutes later, she saw it drive by again, only this time the driver backed up and peered through the trees at her cottage. She went out to the pathway to help him out and met him there.

“You Myrtle Waters?” he asked.

Myrtle nodded and took the large flower box from the man. She had brought two dollars with her, for a tip, just in case. She put it in the delivery man’s hand and thanked him. Inside, she opened the box to find a dozen beautiful, red roses and a card that said, “Myrtle, I really didn’t know what was happening. Please forgive me. Fred.”

She pulled a large vase out from under the sink and arranged the roses, then put them on the table next to the card. Myrtle was still uncertain about it all, yet she was sort of enjoying this. At least, she felt gratified that Fred hadn’t just given up. It was getting more and more difficult to stay angry with him. On Friday evening, Fred mailed a second card, writing in it, simply, “Please forgive me, Myrtle. Love Fred”

The next week was awfully busy for them both. Fred was settling into his new job almost full time now. His recovery time had been short, even for a man not doing a physical job, but except for the occasional twinge, he felt much better physically than he had in a long time. He had suffered through so much pain with his injury that the healing process paled by comparison, except for when the staples were removed and then that other time, with Cynthia.

He really just wanted to focus on doing this new work well, so he immersed himself in it. Helen was scrambling to find him an actual office big enough for the flip chart, a white board, a large desk, etc. In the meantime, Fred was working in the conference room where he started. It turned out that there was a back-log of data analysis waiting for him. Since Mr. Grieve’s had more or less dumped this problem on Helen, she would supervise Fred’s work. She finally had a large storage room near her office cleared out and made into an office for Fred. When Fred was moved into it, he was told it was his, and he could decorate as he wished. He realized he didn’t even have a picture of Myrtle to put up. He had pictures of his mother, but decided against that.

There was a buzz of excitement at the college as well. Students and staff alike were asked to submit depositions about Pelham’s behaviour, just in case they were needed. So there was a flurry of activity about the place all week, but it wasn’t anything negative or difficult for Myrtle. It was just sort of an air of determination and expectation in the place that kind of kept everyone on their toes. So Myrtle went through the week alternately busy with her work, thinking about Fred, and wondering what would happen next with Pelham.

Fred’s second card was in Myrtle’s mail box on the Tuesday. She opened it. Noticing that Fred had signed it “Love Fred,” she smiled and placed it on the table with the other one. The roses needed some care, so she trimmed the stems, rearranged them and changed the water, putting a little sugar in it to help keep the roses nice. Fred was definitely on her mind. She kept thinking about what her Aunt Mabel had said about losing the one man she really loved because he made a mistake. She had never asked what the mistake was. Must have been something pretty profound, she thought.

The following Saturday, a dozen carnations arrived. She arranged those as well, with the card that said simply, “Please forgive me. Love Fred.” Myrtle took care of them rather quickly though, finding a place for them in the living room. She had a little art show to attend as well as some shopping to do and was heading into town for both. The florist delivery guy had just caught her still at home. She grabbed a jacket and was headed out her road when she saw a pink convertible parked in Flora’s driveway, with a rather voluptuously done up woman next to it. She chuckled, thinking that Mary Kaye was visiting Flora of all people. But at the stop sign, she stopped longer than usual. She turned to look back, then she backed up and turned into Flora’s driveway behind the pink car.

When Myrtle climbed out the woman beside the pink car sort of moved toward her and said, “oh, honey, I’m just going out. Could you move your car?”

But Myrtle just walked right up to her. “Are you Cynthia?” she asked.

Cynthia, apparently mistaking Myrtle for a fan, giggled and said, “Oh yes, I am. But I’m on my way out, honey.”

Myrtle stared. “Did you go to Fred’s apartment and seduce him?” she demanded.

Cynthia’s eyes widened. “Shhhh... not so loud, honey. Don’t want Flo to hear,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the window facing the driveway.

“Well did you?” asked Myrtle again, even louder.

“Well yeah,” said Cynthia, in sort of a stage whisper. “Sure I did. Billy’s sperm count is low and we’re trying to have a kid. It wasn’t anything personal... just wanted to keep it in the family. I’m not much into turkey basters,” she giggled.

Myrtle just stared. “Not personal?! You seduced my boyfriend and you say it isn’t PERSONAL?!”

It was Cynthia’s turn to stare. “Oh my, shhhh,” she said, a little helplessly. “Honestly honey, I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” she offered, shrugging.

Myrtle dared to get even closer, standing on her tiptoes to get right into Cynthia’s face. “Don’t you EVER go near my man again! NOT. EVER.!!” With that, and shaking from her own nerve, Myrtle turned and got into her car, then actually burned rubber backing down Flora’s driveway.

Myrtle was most of the way to town before she recovered enough from the encounter to fully realize what she’d done. She had laid claim to Fred in no uncertain terms. Moreover, she’d discovered that Fred was telling the truth. That woman is nuts, she thought. Not personal, indeed! She really had done what Fred claimed she had. Suddenly she felt a little sorry for Fred, being bulldozed by such as woman as Cynthia. It was getting tougher and tougher to stay angry with him. But not tough at all to be furious with Cynthia.