Cornell's Belly
A Cookin' Widow Circles Her Prey
The crew at Yoes Brothers had been watching their pal Cornell after the passing of his big sister Josie.
Josie and Cornell had lived together for years in her home in Tullahoma after Cornell’s wife died just after he’d retired in Chicago. He’d fought, complained and moaned about leaving the only home he’d ever known, but truth be told, Cornell was absolutely terrified of living alone.
And Josie knew Cornell was the stereotypical helpless widower – his wife Lettie had done just about everything for her husband.
The first time he’d entered a Jewel grocery store in Chicago after his wife’s passing, he’d wandered the aisles, not knowing where to begin. He’d grabbed a cart, then spent two hours shuffling up and down each aisle, finally stacking dozens of canned meats, vegetables and fruits into it.
The checker began ringing up the cans, and Cornell, not knowing any better, followed each item down the conveyor belt, then picked it up…
…and placed it back in the grocery cart.
The checker began laughing, assuming Cornell was joking. The huge tears quickly convinced her otherwise, and the young lady walked around the counter and gave Cornell a fierce hug.
“Grandpa, we gon’ take carra you.”
Cornell wiped his eyes, careful not to admit that the hug was the best thing he’d felt in months. “I los’ my Lettie a week ago. I’m jus’ lost, girl.”
The checker bagged the cans, then called her supervisor. The two spoke briefly, and the supervisor grabbed Cornell by the hand, walked him out to the car, and even offered to drive him home.
The supervisor was much older than the fierce-hugging checker, so Cornell politely declined.
Now Cornell found himself in the same predicament all over again, and his buddies were concerned.
So they were pleasantly surprised when Cornell showed up one morning at Yoes, patting his belly with one hand, the other working a toothpick in his mouth with the other.
Willie Yoes looked at his brother and partner Reggie. “Say, you think ol’ Cornell’s sleepwalkin’?”
Cornell plopped in his regular chair and dismissed Willie with a wave.
Reggie scratched his chin. “Well, we know when Cornell’s awake he’s usually complainin’ he’s dyin’ a somethin’. He’s quiet now. So, maybe.”
Lem looked up from a copy of the Tennessean newspaper. “Well then for God’s sake don’t wake up the man. A little quiet be nice here for once.”
As Deshaun came through the door, he greeted the crew and slapped Cornell on the back as he made his way to his own chair.
“Dammit, ‘Shaun, you waked him!” complained Willie. “He gon’ be Googlin’ WebMD an’ choosin’ which exotic disease be takin’ over his prostrate now.”
A customer came thru the door behind DeShaun and promptly sat in Reggie’s empty chair. Willie sat in his and pointed at Cornell.
“He still quiet. May be struck dumb.”
“That happened years ago, Willie,” commented Lem.
Cornell shook his head. “All I uz doin’ was thinkin’ on how good last night’s pot roast tasted this morning. I made myse’f an egg Sunnyside up, put it on a slabba beef, turn it into a English muffin sammich.” He nodded and smiled at the memory.
Reggie paused his work and stared at Cornell. “Lemmee guess. Ol’ Doatie May Davis cook you dinner…aGAIN?”
Cornell’s eyes were elsewhere as he nodded. “Yessiree, and lemmee tell you, that woman know her way around an oven. HoooooWEEE.”
Willie smiled. “How many time that make for Doatie May cookin’ for the widower Jenkins this week?”
Cornell’s eyes were still elsewhere – likely remembering the aroma of Doatie May’s pot roast. “Mmmm. Pot roast las’ night. Lasagna night before. Monday night, was KEE-bobs.”
Lem rolled up the paper and slapped it on his knee. “THREE dinners? In FIVE days?”
Cornell nodded to himself, smiling – then his eyes focused as he observed everyone looking knowingly at each other.
“What?”
DeShaun was looking at his phone and smiling.
Reggie grinned as he worked on his client.
Willie wagged his eyes at Lem.
“WHAT?” demanded Cornell.
Lem cleared his throat, then, off-key, murmured, “Cornell and Doatie May, sittin’ in a tree…”
The rest joined in. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
“Naw,” dismissed Cornell.
“Burps from his belly…” sang Willie.
“Woooo, Nellie!” joined Reggie.
“Then come Doatie May with a pot a chicken chili!” finished DeShaun.
“An’ SNAP – the trap done been sprung!” crowed Lem.
A look of horror came over Cornell’s face. “NAW!”
“I knew you was dumb, Cornell. I jus’ didn’t have you down for a FOOL,” commented Reggie.
“She was a good frien’ a my Josie is all,” protested Cornell.
His friends all nodded. “Exactly.”
Reggie pointed his razor at Cornell. “She been busy all these years doin’ reconnaissance work.”
“WHAT?”
Lem rolled his eyes. “FOOL. She know ALL the food you like.”
DeShaun grinned and nodded. “You could do a lot worse, ma’ man. She got Social Security; she got a good pension from the state…”
“That kinda money, I bet she been layin’ in steaks ‘n’ roasts ‘n’ ribs the last two years in anticipation,” predicted Willie.
Lem snapped his finger. “I ‘member a van rollin’ up an’ puttin’ a new standup freezer in her place not a year ago.” He looked at Cornell. “Oh, yeah, she ready to go steady, Freddie.”
Cornell covered his face with his hands and began moaning.
“Lookee here, Cornell – I ain’t as long on the tooth as you, but Doatie May IS a slim little thang. That mean you won’t have to fight for seconds come dinner when she moves in.”
Cornell looked up in shock. “MOVE IN???”
“Three squares from a good-lookin’ sister wid’ no weight problems? She’s in pretty good health. All you gotta do is nod polite when her girl and grandbabies come by for a visit. Bounce ‘em on your knee…”
Willie looked around the room. “Knee bouncin’. You talkin’ ‘bout a grandbaby or Doatie May?”
As the room broke into hoots, hollers and whistles, Cornell placed his face back in his hands.
“Noooooo.”
Willie and Reggie looked at one another and nodded. “Cornell!” soothed Willie. “We’s just havin’ fun, you know.”
Reggie piped in. “But you COULD do worse, ma man. I bet Josie’s lookin’ down and laughin’ big time. And,” he walked over and placed a hand on Cornell’s shoulder, “She would approve. She’d only want you to be happy, and what better way than to spend time with her best friend?”
Lem groaned. “Don’t let up on the man, dammit. I wanna see him squirm some more, boys.”
Cornell looked up at Reggie. “You know, Doatie May IS a fine woman. We DO know each other pretty good.” The crew fairly watched the wheels turning inside his head.
“That settles it,” determined DeShaun. He pulled out his phone and began dialing.
“Whatcho doin’?” quizzed Cornell.
“Giving the future Missus Jenkins a call,” insisted DeShaun. “Wanna see if Saturday’s a good day for us to get her all moved in.”
Lem nodded. “Cornell, you know I’m a church deacon, but these days, y’all gotta live together for at least six months, you know, make sure you both really compatible ‘fore y’all say your vows.”
“HANG UP THAT GOT DAMN PHONE!” bellowed Cornell.
The room broke up, with Cornell quickly joining them.
Lem shook his head again. “Still woulda liked another ten-fifteen minutes of agony. Truth be told Cornell, I give the two of you two or three months before she breaks you.”
Willie looked at the ceiling, calculating. “Three months? I’d say that’s thirty, forty suppers.” He nodded and looked at Lem. “Knowin’ Cornell’s belly, I’d say that’s about right.
DeShaun pick up his phone again. “I’m callin’ Tullahoma Florist, get the ball rollin’.”
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