JOE

Joe phoned Gramma and insisted Arlene have her own phone. "We're living in the Twentieth Century," he declared. Gramma thought that was extravagant. She offered to relay messages but Joe wouldn't hear of it. He paid for installation in the saddle room. "That's big money," Gramma said when the Hawaiian Bell truck arrived.
Joe's first date with Arlene was on a Saturday. He'd made dinner reservations at Pau Hana Inn, a restaurant with a view of the wharf. Joe stopped at the beach house first to drop off a selection of meats. It was as though Gramma was Arlene's mother and Joe was buttering her up.
"That Joe's a perfect gentleman," Gramma said carrying the meat into the kitchen. She slipped the string off the pink butcher paper and blood spilled over the counter.