My Life With Ev

I had been on a date with Marian the night before, and agreed to meet her the next afternoon at Grimy Grimm’s, a combination café and bus station. It was called Grimy Grimm’s because he never seemed to clean off the oilcloth tablecloths in his booths. You could not put your elbows on the tables, or they would stick. Muskingum co-eds did not smoke, or so the administration proclaimed. But Grimy delighted in crossing the college hierarchy by selling cigarettes to the girls, and allowing them to smoke in his establishment. So, naturally, it became a hangout for the smokers.

I walked into Grimy’s, went to the back where the booths were, saw Marian, and sat down beside her. Across the table from me was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. “This is my friend, Ev”, Marian said. “She’s from East Liverpool, just across the river from Newell.” The river was the Ohio, and separated Ohio from West Virginia at that point.

“Hi”, I said, and mumbled something which I do not remember, but was probably stupid. She smiled and said, “Hi”, back. Her ruddy complexion got to me first, followed by the thought that she certainly could wear glasses well. She had dark hair, and eyes of a color I could not immediately identify. Hazel, maybe, or gray green. I just could not tell. She was smoking a cigarette, which was, after all, the only reason to go to Grimy Grimm’s.

I do not remember any of the following conversation, except that I was dumb struck by her beauty. I knew I had to ask her out, and I did as soon as Marian left. I think Marian sensed the sparks flying across the table, and since she and I were only friends, she graciously departed so that nature could take its course. To my surprise, she said, “Yes”, when I said maybe we could go to a movie at the only theatre in New Concord, the Roy.

It was several weeks before I finally realized that, for the first time in my life, I was living alone. As a kid I lived with my parents and older sister. When she left to get married, I continued to live with my parents, until college. There, of course, I had roommates and a bunch of other guys living in the house. In the middle of my junior year I enlisted in the Air Force. World War II was waging. In the service it was barracks with a lot of bunk beds occupied by colleagues. After the war it was back to college, and more roommates. Two weeks after graduation, Ev and I were married, and I spent the next 56 years and eight months living with her, our two sons, until they left, and then with her again. Now, except for my cat, Christopher, I was living alone.

Christopher is a godsend. I don’t know how I would have gotten along without him. If you think pets don’t grieve, think again. He began following me around like a puppy. Wherever I am, there he is. If I sit down in a chair, he is in my lap. If I am working on the computer, he is in the chair right behind me. If I am on the couch watching television, he is right there with me, first on my lap, then over my shoulder with his face pressed against mine. Then he gets down, curls up on the couch right beside me, and goes to sleep. He never did that before. When Ev was alive, and we would be sitting on either end of the couch watching television, Christopher would go from one to the other, getting on Ev’s lap, then on my lap. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth he would go, sharing his love evenly, until he usually settled on her lap. But he never curled up on the couch as he does now.  Some of Ev’s clothes are still hanging in one of the closets, and he scratches at the door until I open it. Then he goes in, sniffs around as if he thought she might be in there, and comes back out. He also talks to me a lot more.  I don’t always know what his meows mean, but he sure is trying to tell or ask me something. It is obvious he misses Ev.