Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors by Sr. David O. Dyer Page B

found an old sewing machine in the attic, cleaned it up and put it in the bedroom. I may try my hand at altering some things tomorrow."
    “You can sew?” Tim asked.
    “Maybe. We'll see. Mama had an old Singer and I taught myself, but that was a long time ago."
    Tim did not verbally respond, but Sandra liked the smile on his face and the way he was looking at her.
    “What do you think of charcoal steaks, baked potatoes and a tossed salad for supper?"
    “Do we have any charcoal? For that matter do we have a grill?"
    “There's a gas grill on the patio. The Van Fans had one like it in Jessup. I'm not sure if there are any briquettes, but we don't necessarily need them."
    “Sounds good to me. Now that I think of it, I'm starving."
* * * *
    On the indefinitely defined dividing line between the areas known as the Piedmont and Western North Carolina, late October days are usually sunny and quite warm, but the temperature drops rapidly when the sun sets. Tim and Sandra, both dressed in heavy sweaters, ate dinner on the patio, neither willing to admit the mistake. Sandra was perhaps less aware of the nip in the air, for she was concentrating on what she knew was an important speech she must make.
    “Is your steak too rare?” she asked.
    “It's fine,” Tim replied, his mind back in the study.
    “This morning you asked me, challenged me, to present to you a plan, my plan for the future."
    “Uh-huh,” Tim responded while chewing a bite of less than tender chuck steak. He tried to recall the conversation.
    “You and I are different, Tim. You seem to know what you want and exactly how to get it. You have everything worked out in your mind, maybe on paper if the ‘to do’ list I saw on your desk is any indication."
    She thought he nodded affirmatively as he raised the glass of iced tea to his lips.
    “I don't have any experience with that. I sorta know what I want, but I don't know how to make detailed plans. I knew I wanted to leave home when I was a girl, but I really didn't know why or how. The notion came to me after I graduated from high school. I packed a few things, walked to the highway and stuck out my thumb. I did not know where I was going or how I would get there. Barry Waterton gave me a ride. After talking with him a while, I thought maybe I could hang out with him until something better came along, and I did. I didn't plan it. I just did it. I saw a ‘help wanted’ sign one day. I applied for the job and got it. I didn't plan it. It just happened. Then the opportunity came for me to become a Toy. I wanted excitement. I didn't plan it. I couldn't possibly have planned it. Then I became bored with the Van Fans. For the first time in my life, I tried to plan something—my escape. You know how that turned out."
    “I'm not as good at planning as you may think, Sandra,” Tim said looking over her head at nothing in particular. “My dad was an accountant, so I planned to be an accountant. I planned to marry the perfect girl, have a nice job with an accounting firm, a house and maybe a couple of kids. Those were the basics. I added details as I grew up. In my senior year in high school the details changed a little. I decided to take a class in bookkeeping and another in typing. My teacher turned out to be super—best I ever had. She actually cared about us. She criticized poor work, but she always found something positive to say. I decided to become a high school teacher of typing and accounting—just a little adjustment in the basic plan. In that same year, I fell in love with the perfect girl, or so I thought. She was a year behind me. The trouble with my planning is that I have never learned how to build in the unexpected. My parents died in an automobile accident during my freshman year in college. That almost threw me. They left me enough money to finish college—and the house of course. I married my high school sweetheart just after I got my degree. We moved into the house. She obtained a job as a bank