Judson sat quietly on the porch swing, rocking gently, softly stealing a gentle breeze from the spring Alabama night. Another day had come and was winding down. Business had been slow at the little hardware store he owned and operated, but that was to be expected. Summer was here, and all the self-made handymen had completed their spring repairs and had moved on to the pursuits of summer. About the only regular customers now were the local builders, and most of them bought from him only when the purchase was too small to justify the half hour drive into the next town where the large hardware chain store continued its ongoing conspiracy to destroy small local businesses. Still, Judd couldn’t blame the builders for shopping there. The variety of merchandise available dwarfed his meager inventory and his prices were higher, despite his efforts to cut his margins and remain competitive.
Still, he had a steady stream of traffic, though most of it came from the old-timers who shopped here either from a sense of obligation, or because the trip into Carson City seemed like more trouble than it was worth. And, as far as they were concerned, if a fellow couldn’t find it at the local hardware store, then he probably didn’t need it. But, if the truth were known, when they did come in, they often purchased only a soft drink and a pack of crackers from the rack beside the cash register. About the only thing that would really boost his business might be a good ice storm to do enough damage to create a short-term emergency and to cause the large store in Carson City to exhaust its stock so that he got the spillover traffic. And, here in late June, that was a bit unlikely.
But Judson didn’t mind. As long as the store did enough business to cover its expenses and to pay his three employees, he would be satisfied. His grandfather had opened this store more than sixty years ago and two generations had earned a better than average livelihood from it. Judson had taken it over a few months back after returning to his small hometown of Genoa following a stint in Chicago. Twenty-four years ago he had graduated from high school here. Three months later, he left the store and the town behind, jumping at the chance to attend a reputable university on scholarship, with no intention of ever returning.
Despite an early interest in literature, he had, at his father’s insistence, majored in finance. This had served him well financially, allowing him to obtain a job with a large investment banking firm. His skills, combined with a good run of luck, took him quickly up the corporate ladder. After assisting a few conglomerates in the buying and selling of companies at a hefty commission, he accumulated a significant reserve of cash and available credit. These he parlayed into a small fortune as he bought and sold a series of small companies, many of them culls from the larger corporations who dropped them into his lap for a song. There was a lot of truth to the old adage that one man’s junk was another’s treasure. Judson’s sizable portfolio was proof.
If the truth were known, Judson loved what he was doing. Only after his dad’s stroke had he agreed to leave the fast life of Chicago and return to this small town. Even then, his original plan had been to return just long enough to persuade his dad to either close the store or let him sell it. He believed the large chain would buy the store simply to eliminate the nuisance of competition. Even if they didn’t, the building was located on prime commercial real estate. The family had had numerous offers from developers who wanted to purchase the store and the adjoining 33 acres, much of it on the nearby river, to develop into an upscale residential neighborhood.
Judson sat in the swing and read until dark, which came late this time of year. When the dusk took over completely, he laid his book aside and continued to rock gently, waving at the occasional car that would make its way past his house, oblivious to the fact that it was dark and that the passers-by could not see him, sitting alone on his porch. He wondered if there was an element of fate in the series of events that had brought him back to his hometown. He doubted it. If there was, he had missed the significance of it.
A car horn from down the street jarred Judson back to reality. He hit the light on his sports watch and realized he had dozed off. It was almost ten o’clock so he had slept for well over an hour. Since he had to open the store at seven every morning, Judson went to bed early, just like his father had done. What a change from his lifestyle in Chicago. Picking his book up from the swing, he made his way inside, and without ever waking completely, made his way to bed.
Arriving early the next morning, Judson sipped coffee as he reconciled the previous day’s receipts. He smiled as he realized that he put as much effort into reconciling a few hundred dollars in sales as he had in analyzing the multimillion transactions that made up his prior life. Oh well, everything was relative. And, as was becoming the routine, the day was filled with a slow, but steady stream of locals who wanted to chat more than anything else. But it helped pass the time. Pete, the old hand who had worked for Judson’s dad for years, dropped in to chat as he was prone to do on slow days. Today, he had picked up cheeseburgers for himself, Judson and Josh, a part-time college student who showed up each day around noon and worked afternoons. The three ate their cheeseburgers and the lunchtime conversation spilled over into the afternoon as they whiled away the time discussing sports, politics and what they didn’t know about women. From time to time a customer would drop by and join the conversation, pick up a few items and then leave the threesome to their discussion. And, finally, like those before it, the afternoon would produce the rattling of keys as Pete and Josh began to help Judson close shop for another day.
Pete said his goodbyes and went to lock the warehouse. Josh headed out to make a final stroll through the store to make sure that all the customers were gone and that nothing was in the floor that might be tripped on tomorrow morning. It was amazing how customers would remove merchandise from the shelf or storage bin, and just leave it. Judson recalled how his grandfather would always wonder aloud if those folks left things lying around like that at home. He assumed most of them did. Judson had a lot of memories in this hardware store, and he was continually amazed at how they made their way back into his consciousness at an almost measured pace.
Making his way back to the front of the store, Josh grabbed his backpack from the shelf underneath the cash register, said goodbye, and made his way out the door. Continuing another almost daily ritual, Judd traced Josh’s steps down the aisles, rearranging and checking prices. Yes, life had changed for Judd. And, if he were honest, he would admit he didn’t know if it was for better or worse.
“Hey, Judd.”
Without looking up, Judd recognized Libby’s voice. She had become another regular fixture here, albeit one of the more pleasant ones. Libby looked to be not a day over 18, although she had just turned 24. Judd knew because she had produced her driver’s license the day he had laughed at her. And, though Judd knew better, he had to admit a bit of relief upon seeing that she was well beyond high school. Judd was attracted to her, and even though he found the young woman incredibly attractive, he did have his standards. And fooling around with anyone under 21 violated those standards.
Not that anything had happened with Libby. Their relationship was mostly mild flirtation. But, it was not because she was not available. She had sent unmistakable signals that she was interested. She went on and on about how the guys her age were not mature. She even went so far as to comment on Judd’s youthful appearance. And he knew she was not blowing smoke. Judd had taken care of himself over the years, and despite the graying around his temples, he looked ten years younger than his 42 years.
“Hi, Libby. You doing OK, today?”
“I’d be doing better if you’d take me into town this weekend and buy me dinner.”
Judd smiled.
“Judd, we wouldn’t even have to come back.”
Now she had his attention. “Oh, so we can leave this part of the world, Libby?”
“No, silly. I meant that night. We don’t have to come back that night.”
“Don’t you live in Carson City? Didn’t you tell me that you lived with your Mom downtown near the college?”
“No I don’t live with my Mom. I told you she lived near the college. I have my own place. But that’s beside the point. I’m talking about you, me and a hotel room. Of course, that would be after a nice dinner and maybe a movie. Who knows what I might be inclined to do.”
“The thought of you inclined in any manner makes me a little nervous.”
Libby laughed, not a girlish giggle, but the laugh of a confident woman. “What do you think? Is the offer tempting enough?”
Judson smiled at Libby, and made his way into the adjacent warehouse area. He didn’t realize Libby had followed until he turned and found himself staring into Libby’s blue eyes. Before he could react, she kissed him. Judd pulled away.
“Libby, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
She backed toward the door. Judson expected her to make her way back through it, into the store and out the front door. He was certain he had embarrassed her. Instead, she smiled at him, reached for the door and closed it. Judson watched. Aware that she had his attention, she deftly reached for the bottom of her shirt, holding her hands there, threatening to pull it up to expose her breasts.
Judson strained to breathe. He had fantasized about Libby, but he knew this was a mistake. She was incredibly beautiful and had the body as supple as that of a woman her age, but as alluring as that of a woman ten years older. He wanted her. There was no question about it. Instinctively, he took her hands to stop her.
“No. No, Libby, I can’t do this, and neither can you.”
“Do what?” she asked innocently. “It’s a little warm in here and I was just going to take off my shirt. Don’t you want me to?”
It took every ounce of Judson’s strength to shake his head. He knew he really did want her to. He’d like to lock the door and take her here in the warehouse. “Please, Libby,” he thought. “Please don’t give me a chance to reconsider.”
As if hearing his plea, Libby pulled her hands back from the shirt, her hands still restrained by his. She could not resist teasing him by sliding her hands across her breasts, forcing his to make contact with her ample bosom. Finally, she dropped her hands to her waist. Judson breathed deeply and sighed, releasing the hold he had on her hands..
“I know what you’re thinking.” Thankfully, Libby broke the silence. “And I admire you for it. You’re not the kind of guy who would take a girl for a quickie in the back of the store. You want to wine and dine me before you bed me, don’t you, Love?”
Judson stared at her, unable to stop the smile that captured his face.
Libby was again in his face. “So, how about this Friday? Let’s go out and have some real fun. Just you and me!” She placed her lips on his in a featherlike kiss. Judd’s mind was about to say no, when his libido got to his lips first.
“OK, if you want. Yea, it’ll be fun. But one thing.”
