The Return of Cheesebutt

Ok, remember I told you Cheesebutt decided to crash our Christmas party??

Well, I ran into him again -- this time after work. I have a part-time gig at the cemetery, for when I'm home.

I was playing guitar outside my dad's theater (yes it is my dad's, it is named after him) and I look over and see someone standing there, and sure enough, it's him.

"I didn't know you play guitar," he said. I told him it's just a hobby, I don't do it for a living like my parents do.

So we got to talking, and the next thing I know, I'm in his minivan, riding to the diner for a 'midnight snack.' I know, I know. You have my permission to shoot me.

"It's a beautiful night," he said as he drove. HE DROVE! Of course he had to drive, I didn't even take my car to work.

The dinner was nice, we had burgers and fries and all the greasy-spoon food I'd been denied in Egypt.

"So this is the rust-bucket you drive now, eh?" I asked him as I eyed his forest-green minivan.

"Hey, it gets me from point A to B. All I need, really."

"Savannah!" he called from the back of the diner, as I turned to leave.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Savannah, will you listen to me for just one second?"

"Look, it's late," I told him. "I have to catch a flight to China in the morning."

"That's your problem, you're always rushing," he said. "If you'd just let life come to you --"

"Oh, come on, Cheesebreath! You know I'm not that kind of person."
"You know, I'm kind of old to be called by those kinds of names." Thing is, he was kind of laughing as he said it, so it was hard to take seriously. "Look, I know things have changed --"

"You're damn right things have changed! I'm a doctor now."

"Not a medical doctor."

"Well, no. I'm a doctor of archaeology. My specialty is ancient Egypt and the relics left behind."

"Savannah Plumb, of all the things I imagined you doing, raiding ancient tombs is not one of them."

"Well then," I told him, "I guess you don't know me very well."

"I guess I don't."

We stood there for a few moments in complete silence. Then I turned to him and told him, "You know what, Cheesecake, the next time you and my brother get together to plan MY life, I wish you'd let me in on it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damned well what I'm talking about! You were at the party the other night talking to him and I overheard some of what you were telling him."
"I was only telling him that we went to school together."

I shook my head. I could tell he was lying.

"I love you, Savannah."
I cupped my ears to go closer so I could hear. "What did you say?"

"I love you, Savannah Rachel Plumb." He even pronounced my middle name right, which was a shock. Usually he butchers it. "I've always loved you. I've loved you from the moment I first saw you."

"Sure didn't act like it," I muttered bitterly to no one in particular, wasn't sure if he'd heard. But he did, apparently.

"I was a teenage boy, I was young and foolish. I should never have let you go."

"Andrew!" It just slipped out, his given name. Not sure what made me say it.

"My mother was right. The day you came by, right after you left, she turned to me and said, 'Andy, you better hold on to that girl, 'cause she's going places.' She was right. I should've never let you out of my sight. I realized the whole time the news reports were coming in from Egypt that you were missing -- that I was in love with you. I wasn't sure if I was going to ever get the chance to tell you."

My awesome verbal faculties had suddenly left me. I couldn't say anything. He had said it all. But he wasn't done, either.

"Savannah, I realize your family is wealthy but it's never been about the money. I'm in love with you, not your fortune. I'm in love with your spunk, your spirit, your courage and your smarts. I'm in love with your green eyes and your smile, when you choose to show it. We can spend the rest of our lives fishing and gardening, and you can paint and write and play your guitar as much as you want. We can even do some traveling -- maybe get that vacation home in Egypt you want --"

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked him. "Couldn't you have done this earlier?"

"There was never a good time, and there's never a better time than the present. Besides, every time I tried to tell you, you always brushed this kind of stuff aside."

I couldn't exactly put my trip to China on hold; after all, I was being summoned there to search for the ancient writings of Qin Shan Hu (my best guess at pronunciation is KEEN SHAWN HUGH). And I still have to find the final relic in Egypt and write about that. I cannot give up my job, as I need it like I need air to breathe. But I was tired, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I needed to get home and get to bed. I had a lot to think about.