A Handshake with Rollo(a short story) Part B
This is an ongoing story. For those who weren’t around a couple of weeks ago to read part A. Here’s the link Rollo’s Handshake Part A.
I should note that in the first version, I mentioned that this was a two-parter. I’ve been having a bit of fun with the possibilities with this one, so I’m going to extend it for a few more installments— plus this allows me to keep today’s post is relatively short.
Anyway, enjoy
Isn’t social chemistry such a funny thing? You start out with a few non-descript words and it unveils a link you didn’t expect to find. This link leads to another. You migrate to the kitchen table. The links keep finding new purchase in areas you hadn’t even considered taking the conversation. You’ve both ended up with a glass of wine in hand, you’re telling yourself that this can’t possibly go on. Surely this person is eventually going to talk themselves over ground that unwillingly puts you off. A penchant for gardening, an unfortunate political take. But somehow this never happens. Like a chimpanzee swinging from one heavily trodden vine to the next, the two of you are sailing through the air of conversation until you find yourselves planning out holidays together! Next on the agenda? A time-share perhaps?
Mr Green was like that for me.
He entered the living room and immediately spotted the Chica-Raindrop. Gripping the glass of his rimless spectacles he turned my way and groaned, confessing he’d been caught up at a squash tournament on the day of that sale. He absentmindedly picked up one of the fabric protecting pillows and placed it behind his own back before we sat down for our second bottle of Shiraz.
The goofy grin that ached at my cheek muscles must have looked borderline maniacal. I threw a glance to the pair of squash rackets just visible inside the entryway. The recessed shelf they were tucked into meant Mr Green couldn’t possibly have spotted them on his way in.
No, he was the real deal. You only needed to glance at his racquet players’ forearms to see that!
And it didn’t stop there. Mr Green turned out to be good friends with the young mother Prim bumped into at the supermarket on Tuesday. The two of them bonded with similar rapidness over the last bag of desiccated coconut! Prim has seen her twice since but hasn’t quite found a natural excuse to link up for more than just polite banter.
How did she come up in conversation? Well, Mr Green is part of Crypto-club comprised of two of his work colleagues, his wife (adorable) and our suburb’s freshest new mother. I confessed that Bit-Coin is the only reason I log onto the internet these days.
This segued nicely into a discussion about my own job hunt in the investment world. Mr Green kicked himself over the timing—he’s just abandoned the hedge-fund game and gone out on his own, so is no longer personally hiring. Hence the need for a rented room/workspace. All the same, by the time I was washing out both of our wine glasses, I had two new job interviews with his former colleagues pinging in my Google calendar not to mention a glowing character reference from a well-respected expert.
I followed him into the checker-tiled entryway with tea-towel in hand, ribbing him about how I was unsure whether Prim would give him the green light, when he got a mortified look on his face.
“God, I didn’t even ask…” seeing my face fall, he thrust out a hand and grinned. “No, don’t panic, I just realized how rude I’ve been. I didn’t even ask where you guys have moved from?”
He couldn’t possibly have known. Yes the timing was eerie. But he couldn’t have known this was the worst question he could have asked.
Opening one of my tightly clasped eyes I said it. “Mellonsville.”
For all that he wanted to put me at ease, I could see the impact this name inevitably had on him. His eyes dived to his boat-shoes, he shuffled from foot to foot. “Gosh…I…I hope no one you know was affected by the tragedy.”
“No thankfully not.” I told him, too quickly, too well practiced. I slapped on the smile I’ve given a hundred folks before I closed the door, but somehow, we both knew. The air had changed. With that one question, Mr Green cut off any chance of becoming our new housemate.
To be continued…..
