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Edit: Thank you Tops in Fiction! TiF awarded this story Tops in Literary Fiction Short Story for the Third Week of January, 2025.
“Hey Baby, what gives?” said the young man.
His Mom, in the middle of changing the vacuum cleaner bag, rolled her head up to see who was talking. She stared at him hard and then she was on him in a flash; she had the collar of his jacket and the other hand raised into a fist as he tried to head out of the kitchen to the family room where there was more room to maneuver.
“Vhere do you get off…” cried his Mom, running behind him, her eyes lit with anger.
“Gerty, Gerty c’mon now,” cried his Dad, dropping the newspaper into his lap. His Mom finally relented then and went back into the kitchen, mumbling along the way, something about “vatch out, you” the rest unintelligible.
“Why do you do that to your mother, get her upset like that, Matt?” pondered his Dad.
“I didn’t mean to, I just watched this old movie today and saw how these guys talked, like back in your day, Broderick Crawford, tough guys, and I thought it was funny, thought it would make her laugh, so I gave it a shot. I didn’t think I would get that reaction.”
“Broderick Crawford, really?” said his Dad. “I haven’t heard that name in years, ‘What gives’ was something wiseguys said, alright. Don’t say that to your mother, again. Yeah, that’s kind of funny though.”
Matt walked out of the family room and bounded up the steps to his bedroom where he slid out of his high school letter jacket and very respectfully placed it on a wooden hanger and under a plastic garment bag. It meant a lot to him, embroidered with his name and his sports, Swim and Golf, holding his letter and multiple pins for school records. But high school and cool spring nights were behind him now. He recently graduated from high school, and from part time work, taking on a full time load at the family’s furniture store, where he worked the sales floor when it was busy and the accounting desk when it wasn’t. He had a summer of daily work and nightly fun ahead of college in September.
Matt, like his father Sydney, was a man of average height and weight, though a bit more broad shouldered, a trait he carried from his mother Gerty. She also gave him his athleticism and his temper. His father gave him his sense of irony, and an air of thoughtful idealism. The one physical attribute that set Matt apart, and greatly enhanced his swim career while preventing him from participating in sports that required a lot of running, was that he had very large feet; somewhere between a 15 and 16 men’s size, and also triple EEE wide.
His mother Gerty was, as the neighbors said, ‘a character’. She came to America at 13 years of age from Dresden with her Aunt and Uncle in 1950, a tall, strapping young woman with just as big a personality, and with an eagerness for life that others found infectious. She never quite lost her accent, especially when she was at one emotional pitch or another; she would veer into V’s where the American ear was used to W. Matt made the mistake of impersonating this habit once, but only once. Like many young immigrants she tried to learn the language, habits and customs of her new land by listening to the radio, watching movies and later television. As a young wife and mother, she always made time to watch Bill Kennedy At the Movies each afternoon. Matt would often watch with her, and together they found a love of the big screen on a small screen.
Matt Trombley, regardless of his mother’s reaction above, more than shared her love for the movies. He followed all the male leads like Broderick Crawford, sure, but also Lionel Barrymore, Jimmy Stewart, Gary Cooper, John Wayne and Humphrey Bogart, to name but a few. He watched dozens of these old movies, and eventually hundreds, read books and found a group devoted to Hollywood of the 30’s, 40’s and 50’s. What started as innocent entertainment became a novel personality over time; he showed up at the family’s furniture store in three piece suits that he purchased at estate sales after the former owner passed from this life to the next. Eventually he also had the habit of pulling a watch, on a gold chain, from a small pocket on his vest and flipping open the lid to read the hour. He did this in front of customers, and then he would launch into a pretty good Stewart imitation to announce it was “Now time, you see, to, ahh, well, take my scheduled lunch break, you see, which I’m sure you can understand, ahh, well, we all need to eat, don’t we? And anyway, I’ve shown you everything I can for gosh sakes, isn’t it about time you two made some decisions, well isn’t it?”
One month he was Stewart, the next month our young man was doing Bogart with a lit cigarette, a beige London Fog cinched at the waist and a tilted fedora. A week later he had a leather vest and cowboy boots and he was ambling around the store with affable “Good afternoon Pilgrim,” greetings to customers. The customers, by the way, were not at all put off by the these little scenes, in fact they quite liked the new approach. Furniture store sales people were not exactly used car types, but they did track you across sofas and easy chairs with a multitude of questions and light banter, when really you only wanted to duck in to get out of the rain, or to let your spouse dream a bit about a new master bedroom set.
His father Sydney witnessed a few of these performances and thought it would be a good idea if he and the boy went to lunch together and maybe talked over the recent changes the boy had undergone. It was early May, it’s true, year of our Lord 1989 to be exact, but the old man was still surprised to see Matt drape himself in a heavy wool overcoat and doff a fedora. Together, the son, striding confidently and enjoying the attention his unusual garb brought him, and the old man, walking along with the look of placid resignation, made their way to the local restaurant a few blocks down the street from the furniture store. They stopped near the entrance, Sydney surprised to see a coat and hat stand near the door that he’d never noticed before. Taking their seats in a two person booth along the center aisleway, they each pulled a menu from the little, steel stand at the side of the table.
“How are sales going Matt?” asked Sydney.
“Oh, swell, Pops, swell,” answered ‘Stewart’. Matt’s eyes glided over the menu, one column at a time. He knew it by heart but every time he ate there, two or three times a week, he made himself read the entire menu quickly in an act of ardent hopelessness, knowing his favorite sandwich would not be listed, but looking anyway just for sport.
“Ok, gentlemen, do we have our minds made up,” said the waitress Caroline, setting down two waters in tall plastic glass with ice and a straw still covered by half of its paper wrap.
Sydney glanced at Matt who was still reading the columns on the back, the breakfast items from a service that ended an hour earlier.
“I’ll have the hot roast beef sandwich special and coffee with cream,” said Sydney.
A long moment, enough for Caroline to shift her weight, what there was of it, from left leg to right and then back again.
“Grilled cheese with bacon and tomato, can they do that, sweetheart?” blurted Bogart suddenly.
“We do it every time you come in Matt, or should I say Humphrey? teased Caroline, giggling and writing the order down. “Anything to drink, and no, we don’t have whiskey neat or messy, and definitely we do not have champagne.” Matt laughed at this himself, his bright eyes meeting Caroline’s before she skipped away.
“Well, you two seem to know each other,” mentioned Sydney, quietly, unobtrusively.
“Yeah, we dance together at the club, cheek to cheek last Saturday,” responded Matt, glancing sideways to watch the girl put the order in.
“Sounds promising,” said Sydney, suddenly light hearted after hearing and seeing something so normal as his son smitten with a pretty girl.
“Yeah, she does a wonderful Grace Kelly, and can slip into a Donna Reed, or a Bergman or Bacall at the drop of a, well, the drop of a hat, I guess,” replied Matt, switching into Stewart again at the ‘well, the drop of a hat, I guess’ part.
“So all the kids are doing this, it’s a thing, these impersonations, I mean, with young people,” asked Sydney.
“Well, it’s more than impersonations, Pop,” argued Matt, or really, Jimmy, “it’s a way of life, of living, of meeting and being around other people. I mean, it’s like you throw off all shyness and hidden agendas, the jargon and the bad attitudes, the ridiculous jibber jabber, and you try to meet people as people, real people, people with dreams and ideas and visions and longing and, well you know, Pops, you know what it was like, what being young was like, when you held Mom’s hand and shared what you wanted from life, you remember, don’tcha Pops? You haven’t forgot haveya?” Jimmy begged his father, leaning across the table, a little more desperate than Sydney had ever remembered him.
“No, no son, I haven’t forgotten, not at all, I remember it quite well, in fact,” assured Sydney.
Their lunch came presently. Sydney watched the two young people furtively, trying to understand what was happening, but it was just flirting, fun unaffected flirting while in one character or another. They seemed to change character with each turn in the conversation; first he was Bogart and she Bacall; then in an instant he switched to Wayne and she to Maureen O’Hara. Before a minute had passed they’d agreed to a date that weekend, and they were both visibly delighted at the prospect, he as Tyrone Power and she as Gene Tierney. Sydney was more confused now, but willing to let it all go at the thought of the two young people having a nice time, out for an evening.
Matt ate his sandwich with gusto, issuing a ‘mmm’ several times. Sydney cut through his hot roast beef sandwich methodically, trying again to understand what he’d witnessed from Matt and the waitress. But it became a jumble pretty quickly, so he gave up. Caroline reappeared from time to time, to reheat their coffee, and always garnered some small expression from Matt, “hey, swell” or “that’s aces.”
Before Sydney knew it he was paying the bill and Matt was wishing Caroline a good afternoon from the door, and off they trotted back to work. Matt couldn’t believe his “swell luck” and gave the presence of Sydney all the credit.
“I think seeing you and me together, you know, father and son, business partners (which they were not, but that’s neither here nor there), it really made me more than just another guy in her eyes. Wish I would have thought of having lunch with you sooner; I’ve eaten I don’t know how many of those grilled cheese with bacon and tomato sandwiches,” spieled Matt, talking almost faster than he walked.
Sydney was able to keep up with the talking, now that Matt was out of character, or in character, whichever, it was easier to make sense of now, but the walking left him a bit winded. But no matter. Saturday came and went, apparently quite well. Matt and Caroline became close that spring, and closer still that summer. Caroline was a common guest at the family’s dinner table. Matt’s mom Gerty was an excellent cook, having brought with her from Dresden a European’s appreciation for laying a beautiful table, especially on Sundays. After Mass, Gerty prepared a roast most Sundays with wonderful and varied side dishes, and apple or cherry strudel for dessert. On extraordinarily hot days Sydney would pickup Chinese food from Hung’s downtown.
Caroline and Gerty got on well enough. Caroline’s own mother died just before Caroline’s 13th birthday; she’d lived the last 4 years with a Step-mom of whom she was none too fond, and the feeling to be honest was mutual. The most difficult part was that it caused a rift with her father, a man she loved and admired without question. Caroline could not get over the feeling that she had let him down, but she simply couldn’t love her new mother; it wasn’t possible. At school she was popular and well liked as an energetic girl with an excellent sense of humor, but even friends noticed when they dropped her off that her face changed as soon as she stepped out of the car.
Caroline and Matt often lapsed into different characters on these Sunday afternoons. To Caroline’s amazement, Gerty’s efforts to understand her adopted land led her to know all the characters, at least the ones from the big screen, that the young couple tried out. She listened closely and yelled out the characters and the actors who played them for each turn in the conversation, without fail. It became a lively game every Sunday afternoon. She was deft with movie references, from the 30’s right through the early 60’s.
“Terry Malloy by Brando, Oh I loved Brando, and Edie Doyle - Eva Marie Saint, great movie, great movie, ‘On the Waterfront’ ,” bellowed Gerty.
Then, during dessert, “Ahh, that’s Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, ‘The Philadelphia Story’. Lovely picture.”
Later on the porch, listening with her eyes half shut, Gerty whispered “Casablanca” of course, and “From Here to Eternity,” as the young couple laughed and flirted their way through Hollywood history.
Summer rolled on, with more Chinese food than beautiful roasts on Sundays, but the heat finally relented about the 3rd week of September, the fall equinox. The kids had moved on at this point from movies generally to old tv shows and 60’s music. Elvis made an appearance, and eventually folk singers Bob Dylan and Joan Baez were common references. Things got a little more interesting when Electric Bob Dylan appeared. Gerty and Sydney didn’t really understand the faux hostility he elicited and actually thought for a moment that the young couple was breaking up.
Matt was enrolled now in the local university, as was Caroline, and by late October the midterm exams cut their socializing down to an occasional phone call. Calculus was a time consuming class for Matt, and Caroline was herself underwater with reading assignments in history. At Thanksgiving the young couple had a chance to breath again and catch up, but the electricity was dissipated. They were both tired, and their minds a bit distracted. References to the past caused the other to smile, but the quick joining in that had been a hallmark of their relationship earlier faded considerably. They just had each other now.
Matt parked in the street in front of Caroline’s house. He wondered on his way up the steps if Caroline remembered their date to visit the zoo for a long outdoor walk; the house seemed empty, very and unusually quiet. The weather was brisk but tolerable. Before he could knock the door opened. Caroline stood in the alcove with a little smile on her face.
“Hey Matty,” she greeted him, with a kiss on the lips. He brightened up considerably at this gesture of love.
“So how was your Thanksgiving?” asked Matt, holding her loosely.
“It was awesome. Dad roasted a great turkey, and step-mom even stepped up with a couple of side dishes. Nice to see all the cousins. The whole family’s gone today. I’m almost ready, c’mon up to my room,” said she, bounding up the steps.
Matt removed his shoes and caught up to her on the top step. She playfully jumped away from him and he laughed and lunged for her, but she was quick and the two of them were in her room in a second. She fell on the bed and looked up at him. He made an attempt at Elvis, but she countered with “Oh, just get over here,” and pulled him down on top of her.
It didn’t take long before they were half naked, and in another few minutes they were fully undressed and under the covers, writhing around and breathing heavily. It was the first time they were together as full lovers; there were a few small miscues but in the end it all went pretty well. They were both happy and satisfied.
“Well, that was surprising,” said Matt, catching his breath.
“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I don’t know, it just seemed like the right time, the right opportunity,” replied Caroline, rolling over and laying on one half of him. After a long moment, they quietly started a James Dean as Cal, and Julie Harris as Abra, bit from the movie East of Eden1.
Abra: I threw away about 3,000 dollars once.
Cal: Huh?
Abra: When I was 13
Cal: You threw it away?
Abra: It was a diamond ring worth about that, at least my father told me that’s what he paid for it. I threw it right away in the river; he got terribly angry. (laughing)
Cal: I reckon’ he would. (laughing)
Abra: But I forgave him, and it’s been alright…
Cal: (Confused) You forgave him? (laughing)
Abra: Yes
Cal: You forgave him because you threw a ring worth 3,000 into the river? (laughing)
Abra: Yes
They laughed, a little at first and then uncontrollably as the whole afternoon seemed more unbelievable as they laid there together and contemplated it.
“It’s strange, isn’t it, how we got together, and ended up here, today, do you think so,” asked Caroline, catching her breath, leaning up on her right elbow, looking at Matt, lying below her, contentedly.
“I guess so, but it’s not like the movies is the only thing we have in common,” started Matt, “I mean, I think we share a lot right?”
“So why do we lapse into movie characters, all the time?” asked Caroline.
“I’m not sure, it’s an easy way to talk without, you know,” started Matt. “Are you still dealing with your Step-mom?”
“Yeah, of course. They all went to her parent’s house for the day, near Lansing, and they took my brother, too. I told them I had work for school to catch up on. And you won’t believe what she said! She said ‘You’re not going to have that boy over, I hope’, Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, I guess,” replied Matt, growing a little more uneasy as he laid there, wondering what Caroline’s feelings really were? For him? Or against her Step-mom.
They were quiet for a bit. Caroline laid on his shoulder with her face in the other direction. Matt wondered if she’d heard what she said and thought about how it sounded to him.
“You know,” said Caroline, finally, “I was a little scared of you, in bed I mean, because you have such large feet, I mean, some girls told me that it was a sign, you know?”
“A sign of what?” asked Matt. He knew of course what she meant, but he wanted to play along; he was uncomfortable with the idea that she’d invited him into her bed just to disrespect her Step-mom and he wanted some diversion.
Caroline rose again on her elbows and just shook her head a little with a faint smile. “Maybe this was a mistake,” said she.
“Yeah, I’m starting to think so, too,” replied Matt. He was surprised by the hurt look on Caroline’s face. “I didn’t mean it like that, Carry, c’mon, I just mean, maybe we weren’t ready to be, you know us, the real us. We were ok in character, but maybe we haven’t really been ourselves with each other, or I don’t know, maybe we have. I feel like I know more about you than almost anyone. What brightens you up, what makes you sad, what pisses you off, what makes you laugh. It’s a thin line between the ‘real person’ and the characters we sometimes play. Why do you love the Abra character? Why East of Eden? It’s a good movie, but it really impressed you, like deeply. That’s a way of understanding someone, right? Most couples just go to see a movie together and then they talk about it a little afterward, right? But we play the characters, we get into it in a way that’s more real maybe?”
Matt ran out of words then, and decided to shut up. Caroline was looking at him again, with an easy, soft smile. She rested her head on his shoulder again.
“Yeah, but I was never comfortable enough to ask about your gigantic feet, and if they were actually a true sign or not,” offered Caroline.
“Well, that’s true, I guess,” replied Matt, “but there’s always a certain amount of a person that’s intimate, that we only learn about them when we’re intimate, right?”
“Well, thank God you’re not a horse!” Caroline laughed.
Matty rolled over on her with a “NEIGHghgh!” and Carry squealed “OH MY GOD,” in faux passion, and they both laughed hysterically, falling apart.
After a while they both decided it was time to dress and move on. They went to the zoo, after all, and stayed close all afternoon, talking and laughing as young couples do, arm in arm. After a late lunch of coney dogs and fries they went back to Matt’s house and watched an old Christmas movie on television with Bing Cosby and Rosemary Clooney, soon to be added to their repertoire, though neither of them could sing a clear note.
East of Eden - this short take explains its significance to Caroline:
This was such a pleasure to read!