After finishing at The Diner, I paid Juanita at the register and started to head out when I suddenly realized I forgot to leave a tip. In the same motion of opening the door I was back inside and headed to my table. I shoved my hand in my trouser pocket and fished out two one-dollar coins and set them between my plate of leftovers and coffee cup. I didn't fool anybody. Juanita and the two other patrons were gazing at me on my sheepish exit.

I stepped out into the hazy afternoon light and stopped for a moment to gaze across the street at the Mayberry Hotel. It looked quiet and I could see Jason through the window slumped over at the reception desk, obviously napping during another red-letter day. Of course, he's probably worn out after cleaning up after Bobby Fleet's band that stayed overnite after their usual unannounced visit.

As I walked East, down Main Street, I noticed Thelma Lou standing in front of Crowley's Market across the street. She stood there with a sack of groceries in her hands and one down by her feet, patiently it seemed, but yet with a expression of sadness. I crossed the street where the vacant lot between the motel and market is and quietly walked up to her. Boy, I thought, she would be so easy to pick out of a crowded room. She's the only woman I've ever seen with mellow cinnamon-colored hair. She smiled - a smile that could melt the core of a comet.

"Thelma Lou," I spoke first automatically.
"Al...how are you?" she asked musically.
"Fine." I sounded like a rockslide compared to her..."waiting for a lift?" Oh, great, brilliant question, I thought.
"Yes...Barney will be by in a moment".....then shyly...."Al, your face."
Reaching up "yes, what..." and then I remembered: blueberry pie. I felt the warm rush of embarrassment.
"Let me get that," she said, taking charge. She set down her groceries and reached inside her purse.
"Oh, no, I got it," fumbling for my own handkerchief which I don't even carry.
She reached up and gently dabbed the edge of my lip - what a gentle touch. I closed my eyes only briefly, and as she retracted I saw the monogramed 'T' and 'L', but was not able to make out the third letter smudged in blue. She saw me looking with my head cocked awkwardly.
"Al?"
"Sorry, nothing."
Barney, in the squad car, was approaching and gave two quick honks.
"Well, here ya go now, you're ride has arrived."
"Bye" she said cheerfully.
"So long," I whispered, as I gave Barney a wave, turned, and walked on up the street.

The End