He called in sick that day and waited in his parked car on the street until he saw both Kathleen’s mom and dad leave for work that morning. He followed her dad to make doubly sure he was heading to his job, then checked the parking lot of her mom’s employer to verify her car was in her designated spot.
Going back to the house, he waited until the mail was delivered, then parked down the street until the truck was long gone. He walked down the sidewalk and then up to the house, striding casually as if it were no big deal. He made a show of knocking on the door in case any of the neighbors were watching, then lifted the mailbox flap and peered inside to see several cards. After taking them out and shuffling through them, he found one matching Kathleen’s handwriting. There was no return address, but it was postmarked Pullman, Wisconsin.
So she was in Pullman, Wisconsin, then. Why? He shook his head, not knowing the answer. Why would anyone go live in Wisconsin, especially a beautiful young woman who could live anywhere? None of it made sense, but it didn’t matter. He was getting closer to figuring out where she’d gone.
He stopped by the library and looked up Pullman, Wisconsin, in the reference section. Population 1,146. Once he realized what a podunk town it was, he went back to his apartment with a plan.
Calling the operator, he asked for the number of a restaurant in Pullman, Wisconsin. “I’m sorry, but I can’t remember the name of it,” he said. “The something family restaurant maybe?” Kathleen loved those kinds of eateries—little hole-in-the-wall places, family-owned and operated. If it had the words Family Restaurant or Diner in the name, she was sure to want to eat there. He himself never enjoyed eating in greasy spoons, but he begrudgingly had made an exception for her, and only for breakfast, a meal that was hard to mess up. He was willing to make that concession for a meal of eggs and toast, and he knew she was grateful for that. Marriage took compromise, and he was willing to give a little to make her happy.
“The Pine Cone Family Restaurant?” the operator asked.
“That’s the one!”
She gave him the number, and he jotted it down, one step closer to finding his wife. When he called the Pine Cone Family Restaurant, he made up a convoluted story about trying to track down a classmate for an upcoming reunion. “Kathleen Dinsmore. Pretty girl in her twenties. Someone told me she moved to Pullman a few weeks ago. Do you know how I can reach her?”
“Edna Clark’s great-niece? The one who runs Secondhand Heaven now?”
“I guess so. Is her last name Dinsmore?”
“I don’t know, but it’s gotta be her. She’s the only Kathleen who’s new in town.”
“What’s Secondhand Heaven?” In the background, he heard the bell of the cash register and a thunk of the drawer popping open. On the other end of the line, the girl’s voice counted out change and wished someone a good day. “Sorry about that,” she said hurriedly. “Super busy today. Secondhand Heaven is the resale shop here in town. Cute place. You can probably get the phone number from operator assistance. I don’t know it offhand.” And with that, she wrapped up the conversation, and the line went dead.
The decision to pack up and go to Pullman, Wisconsin, came easily to Ricky. He’d called the store first, and when he heard Kathleen’s voice answer, “Secondhand Heaven, how may I help you?” he’d gruffly said, “Sorry, wrong number,” and hung up. He smiled. She was there. He felt smug at having figured it out.
He told his boss his father had a brain tumor, and he’d be gone for at least a month. Luckily, he was well liked at the office and a good salesman, so they were willing to give him the time off. He would have gone with or without their permission, but it was better to keep his options open. He stopped shaving and grew a full beard, a look he’d never had before. It made him look so different, even he was shocked when he caught sight of his reflection.
Within days, he was ready to go. He left his apartment behind, taking only the possessions that would fit in his car. On the way out of town, he emptied his bank account, taking most of the money in fifties and twenties. Cash was king, and so was he.
Ricky had a plan, a good one. He would watch Kathleen and learn about her new life in Pullman, and then, when the time was right, he’d create a dangerous situation in which he could play the hero. She’d have to take him back. He remembered a time in their marriage when her car had broken down in a dicey part of town, and she’d called him from a pay phone, terrified because some teenagers had tried to shake her down for some money. He arranged to meet a tow truck there and found her locked in her car, overjoyed at his arrival. The look on her face made him feel invincible, and the warm feeling had lasted for days. Over the next few days, she’d curled up against him in bed in her sleep, as if he were her security blanket. Remembering all this now made him sure that his plan of action should include some crisis in which he could save her. Women loved that in a man, and Kathleen was no exception.