The Lovely Chocolate Mob Read Online Free PDF

Billy ever hold this against you?”
    “No, strangely enough, he didn’t. We were playing again a couple of days later. His mother didn’t say anything to me about it, either.”
    “What did your parents say?”
    “I never told them. It’s as if it never happened.”
    “Why do you think you reacted as you did?”
    “I don’t know. I did that as a child; whenever something too big for me to handle came along, I just froze or pretended it wasn't happening. That’s what I did in this case.”
    Miss Planter spent a few moments writing on her tablet, not looking up, which was smart of her because I really couldn’t read her too well when she had her head down.
    “What do you think was learned from this experience?” Miss Planter asked, suddenly sounding like a school teacher.
    “I think Billy learned that when adults tell children not to do something, you don’t do it,” I said.
    “What did you learn from it?”
    I already knew the answer. “I learned that I could be a coward.”
    “You were a child,” she said.
    “Yes, and Billy was my friend. He was younger and smaller than me; I should have looked out for him. I heard him calling for help; he relied on me.”
    Miss Planter wrote some more, then said, “You’re being too hard on yourself, I think, Mr. Owen. As you said, this happened a long time ago.”
    “Maybe I am, but Billy trusted me, and I let him down. I now think it’s better to get hurt than to let someone down like that.”
    Miss Planter thought a moment, and wrote some more on her notepad, saying, “Perhaps you did get something positive out of this experience.”
    “I’d hoped to be able to make it up to Billy, but his father took a job transfer and they moved away to another city shortly after that.”
    “You can’t always get to do what you’d like to do, Mr. Owen,” Miss Planter said.
    “How well I know that, Miss Planter.”

Miss Planter Gets Personal
    After a few more meetings, Miss Planter zeroed in on some matters that some might consider personal.
    “What do you do for a living, Mr. Owen? I hope you don’t mind my asking this.”
    Why should I mind her asking this? She was a mental health counselor, which pretty much gave her the right to ask anything. I had put myself on the line, so it was no big deal. “I don’t mind. I’m an engineer.”
    Miss Planter looked up from her clipboard. “An engineer? Are you saying you work for the airlines?”
    “No, nothing so dramatic,” I said. “I’m a civil engineer. I work for a company in town called Root and Bonham, which handles contracts from businesses, schools, and some government work, both city and state. I’m a bit of a concrete person, and I handle water run-off.”
    Miss Planter looked perplexed, so I continued. “I am the fellow who draws plans for drains and ditches; after a rain, water has to go someplace, and it’s my job to divert it away from companies and their buildings towards lower ground, and make sure it arrives in one of our area rivers or lakes.”
    Miss Planter didn’t show it, since she was wearing her poker face, but I’m sure she was a bit disappointed. It was quite a long fall from the airlines to ditches, and there wasn’t much excitement when it came to water run-off.
    I felt as though I had to explain more. “My job is a quiet, reliable day-to-day job. It’s fairly routine and sometimes boring, just like me.”
    “You’re anything but boring, Mr. Owen. Routine, maybe, but I wouldn’t categorize you as being a run of the mill person.” Strangely enough, this made me feel better.
    “How would you categorize me, then?” I asked. I really wanted to know. She’s a healthcare professional, and I could use her professional viewpoints. Besides, I was starting to have respect for her opinion.
    “I’d have to say that you’re dependable, Mr. Owen. You haven’t missed a meeting yet, and all your checks have cleared.”
    I laughed out loud at this, which surprised Miss Planter, although