First Fiction: First Paragraph Challenge

Okay. So the challenge this time is to write the opening paragraph to my novella. And in 300 words or less. Well, this a real challenge for me as the story I had started was heavy on dialogue here in the opening so originally there was no "first paragraph" as it were. So...
Violating all that I have been taught about creative writing, I have re-written my opening section and gone for "tell don't show." I will also post the original version once I've cleaned up the grammar and spelling.
If anyone's reading this, let me know what you think. Please.
My first paragraph:

Some old friend, always a "girl", had asked about him. His father would tell Clay of her beauty and enthusiasm in asking for him but he could never quite describe her well or remember her name. So Clay would throw out possible telling details and venture guesses as to who she might be. Only tonight, his father remembered. And the woman he described could only be one person. To be honest, Clay wasn’t sure how it made him feel to know that she was asking about him. There was just too much tangled in his memories of her to draw a straight line to any one feeling. Clay's father told him to expect a message from her. He'd given her his number and his email. The only comfort Clay found then was in knowing she'd probably never call. And he was right, at least in one sense. She didn't call. Her email arrived the next morning. It didn’t stir up his insides the way he thought it might but then it didn’t say anything of what he thought it would. The note read simply: Clay, I know I can trust you. You always believed in Uncle Ulee. He needs your help. I need your help. Please. Love, Min.

Fourth Fiction: my paltry attempt

For those of you not following Fourth Night (FourthNight.com), it is the blog-based reality show where readers eliminate writers. And those brave or foolish enough to "play along at home" can post their own answers to each challenge. Being fascinated by Fourth Night and always interested in things creative, I thought I'd give it a try. Unlike the contestants, who could win a contest, I am doing this for my own pleasure. Of course, the only risk I take here is one of utter embarrassment and abject failure. But, of course, that presumes that someone other than myself reads this.

Well, here is my answer to the first challenge - write the opening sentence of your novella:

The conversation rambled the same well-worn paths those rare times he caught the old man on the phone; talk of sports would lead to politics and on in to work, then just before his father would hustle off to find his mother there would follow the same game.