quepash2

“Sammy,” Betsy began as she slid her fingers under his, “I too once had a hero of whom I wanted to become.”  Samuel gasped; he was lost in Betsy’s eyes, her pupils being slightly dilated from the eye doctor the previous morning.  “You see Samuel,” she continued “when I was 42, I too became fascinated over someone who had altered the world forever."

[More:]

"Betty Crocker," Betsy continued, "had just come out with her first serious cookbook devoted exclusively to fruit based pies.  From the second I tried her Banana Coconut Pie; I knew that I was to change my name to Crocker.  You see hun, she had such a fan-base, and I wanted to show to her that nobody was more in favor of her low-sugar pies than I, Betsy Hammond.  But I knew however, that although I began cutting my hair like she did, and although I introduced myself as Crocker Hammond, it was all a charade unless I took that final step and changed my name for real, through the court systems, the way Betty would have liked.”

Samuel had not realized just how alike he was with Betsy, not only did they love museums, chamomile tea, and cat naps, but they also had this in common.  He was speechless, he made the slightest of nods of which Betsy knew he wanted her to continue, so she did.

“I had the court date set up, I had new checks made, and I notified the post office.  Everything was set, the world now knew my name was Crocker Hammond, and soon the legal system would too.  On the day of the court date, I began to get cold feet.  Visions of my parents’ dream of seeing their little Betsy working, visions of little Betsy riding a pony, it all went through my mind.  But I did not let it get to me; I was going to be Crocker Hammond come hell or high water.” 

“However, as the day proceeded, this motivation to become C.H. was quickly fading.  The big blow came when I was locking up my front door, and leaving for court.  I stepped on my floor mat to go down the hall when it hit me like a cold glass of water.  You see, for it was the very same floor mat that I bought no more than 6 months previous at the local Wal-Mart for half price, which had quite the catchy saying on it: “Betsy’s Home.”  And then it hit me, if I were to change my name; this floor mat would no longer make sense.  I would have to buy a new one, and that thought haunted me.  And to lose such a catchy, witty floor mat was beyond me.  I remember my hands shaking as I opened my door again, walked back into my apartment, and with my head a little lower, knowing that I would forever be Betsy.” 

Betsy began to get a little misty-eyed, and Samuel knew that was his cue to comfort her.  He put his arm around her, careful not to squeeze her shoulder too hard, as she had osteoporosis.

“Ever since then,” Betsy continued as she wiped her eyes, “I could never look at another cookbook again.  Why do you think I have you take me out to Denny’s every Tuesday night?  I chickened out on my hero, and in that I chickened out on myself.” Betsy began to wail, “I do not deserve to call myself a Betty Crocker fan, let alone be allowed to even touch a cookbook anymore.  I failed not only myself that day, but the entire cooking world.” 

Betsy was barely audible now, but Samuel had heard every word.  Although he was trying to stay strong, one tiny tear escaped his eye.  He now knew he would not have the same fate as Betsy.  He was going to change his name, he would be Phillip, and he would not fail anyone.
“And I could have just rubbed off the ‘S’ on ‘Betsy” and changed it to a ‘T’!  Even the rug was willing to make a deal with me!  I would have changed my middle name for that!”
“No matter now, Betsy, it’s behind you.  Now let’s try to lighten this rainy day up and ice skate!” “I don’t know Samuel,” Betsy whispered, “My arthritis is really acting up.  You better get me home, I’m sorry Sammy, I’m sorry.”

Samuel understood, this had happened once before to the pair.  They had been playing a rousing game of Bridge, and Betsy’s arthritis began to talk.  They played through it, but by the end of their game her arthritis was screaming!  Samuel cared too much about her for that to happen again, and after all, this coming Tuesday was lobster night at Denny’s. She would need her knuckles in tip-top shape for that.  And on that note, he took her home, but not before picking a dozen roses from the neighbor’s lawn. 

“This is for you,” Samuel said with an angelic look as he handed the red roses over to Betsy.
“Oh my, flowers…for me?” Betsy was definitely blushing now.

Samuel left Betsy as they were both on Cloud Nine.  He had had a wonderful evening, and he knew what he had to do.  His dream of becoming Philip was too damn important for him, way more important than any dance team could ever be.