Ragged Man by Ken Douglas Page A

All thoughts of a smooth prince vanished when she saw the dusty Ford. She put on a brave smile and jumped in the car. He honked the horn, she thought, he didn’t even come to the door.
    “ Hi,” he said, “I’m a little early.”
    “ That’s okay, I was ready.”
    “ I didn’t see any sense pacing the motel room waiting, so I grabbed the bull by the horns and here I am.”
    “ I’m glad you did. I was a little anxious myself.”
    “ Anxious? I wasn’t anxious, I was sweating. I haven’t been on a date since my wife died fifteen years ago.”
    “ Really, Sam? It’s been eighteen months for me. Eighteen months since my divorce, but you can’t expect me to believe that you haven’t been with a woman in fifteen years.”
    “ I didn’t say I hadn’t been with a woman. I said I hadn’t been on a date.”
    “ You have been with a woman then?”
    “ Well sure, a woman here and there that I might have met in a bar, but when you wake up next to someone you don’t know, who couldn’t care less if you were alive or dead, it hardly qualifies as a date.”
    “ And when was the last time you met a woman in a bar, here or there?” Judy laughed. She was beginning to like Sam Storm. His honesty was refreshing.
    “ So long ago I can’t remember.” He laughed back.
    He drove straight to the Tampico Diner, taking the alley shortcut off Kennedy, like he’d lived all his life in Tampico.
    “ How did you know about the short cut?”
    “ Whenever I come to a new town I make a habit of getting the lay of the land. I like to know my way around.”
    He parallel parked in front of the diner and jumped out of the car. He had her door open before she started to reach for the handle. A very interesting contradiction, she thought. He honks me out of the house, but he springs out to open the door. Mr. Storm was consistently inconsistent.
    They spent the next three hours eating, drinking and talking about everything under the sun. He told her about his hopes and dreams, his successes and failures, his beliefs and fears, but he also listened. It was a two way conversation.
    “ This has been one of the nicest evenings I’ve had in a long time,” she told him as they were getting ready to go.
    “ I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
    “ I don’t eat out often, in fact, I don’t eat out at all. This was a real treat for me.”
    “ I still think we should have brought your son,” he said.
    “ I tried, but he didn’t want to come.” Judy was impressed with this man. Not many men would want a seven-year-old boy along on a dinner date.
    “ Why not?”
    “ He’s staying at a friend’s in town. It had been planned for a long time.” She wondered why she’d told him that. Was she unconsciously trying to tell him that nobody was home at her house.
    “ Would you like another drink before we leave?”
    “ I don’t think so. I’m ready if you are.”
    “ I’m ready.” He signaled the waiter and paid the bill with a credit card. Then he got up from the table, came around to her chair and eased it back as she rose.
    “ Very gallant,” she said.
    “ Your arm, my lady,” he said, offering his. She took it and they made their way out of the diner to the parking lot and his brown Ford Granada.
    “ You know, from our conversation on the boat, I would have pictured you in a flashy sports car,” she said as he unlocked the passenger door for her.
    “ Why is that?” He seemed amused.
    “ You seem so independent, in control, a sports car kind of guy.”
    “ Well, I guess I like all this pig iron around me. No question if I get in an accident with one of those little Jap cars who the winner is going to be.”
    For a second she felt a twinge. Was that a racist statement? She hoped not, he was such a caring man, she couldn’t imagine that it was.
    As if answering her thoughts he said, “I hope I didn’t sound like I have a problem with the Japanese, I don’t. I just don’t like tiny, tinny cars. I spent a good