[stylist] Flirting with Monday Chapter 5

[Shelley J. Alongi]

Just a note on this chapter. If you think a train engineer shouldn't be bothered by hitting someone who deliberately walked out on the tracks or was on the tracks in the first place then you're probably right. But this is based very losely on a train engineer's reaction to such an event a week before he was killed. Admirable. 



Flirting with Monday

Chapter 5

 

I never really thought of Judy Flower as someone I'd really want to get to know any better than a commuter on my train till

that day when the train hit the man who had jumped in front of it on the tracks just outside the station. It was true I had talked to her enough, we had coffee in the café with

others and she'd somehow insert herself into my area but it was fine I didn't mind that at all. She was a nice enough girl. But the day we hit the pedestrian

everyone scattered, leaving me alone on the planter, which was what I wanted as I explained earlier. Judy as she showed me so many times later, wouldn't quite go away. When

she asked if she could hug me I realized I trusted her without knowing it; the quiet way she had gained that trust was mysterious, she hadn't pried her way in to my life, she hadn't tried to chase me down, she had only just been a simple acquaintance, a familiar face, but someone I realized I would let enter my personal space, if only one small carefully constructed defense at a time. Judy had the patience to walk through the field of land mines I had constructed around my heart. Somehow for now I was willing to let her past the first layer. 

 

On that day, after I offered her a ride to work and had asked her to go eat, we sat at a Chinese restaurant near her office and looked at each other.

 

"It's kind of strange sitting here," she said, expressing our awkwardness. "Usually we're at the railroad café and there are a few people trying to get their morning fix." Her face lighted up. "Usually I'm one of them. You always look like you've already gotten it together."

"Not always," I admitted. "Morning comes early for a train engineer you know. I need my fix, too." 

 

"Morning came too early today," she said. I nodded. "Just relax. It's Wednesday and now you've got time to distress." 

"I'm off till Monday now," I said. "Personal time. To get over what happened today." 

Why were we talking about this? I concentrated on the menu in order to keep from thinking of that deadly impact and the chaos afterward. The reason I had asked her to go eat was so I could get away from those scenes. Judy rested her quiet gaze on me for a moment. 

 

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked as I lifted my eyes from a picture of some beef dish with fresh cut vegetables on top.

 

"No," I admitted. 

 

I put the menu down and grimaced. Suddenly my face collapsed like a child about to cry. 

 

"Glen," she tried to ease my discomfort, "just relax." 

 

I sat back, sick, thinking of the man's body under the wheels. I breathed in deeply, till the image and the tears passed. She reached forward and put a napkin into my hand. 

 

"Shall we go?" 

 

I shook my head no.

 

"I'm hungry," I said, once again gaining my composure. "Forgive me."

 

"It's okay, Glen." She looked at me sympathetically. "I understand. We'll just relax and take our time and enjoy dinner. I don't have to be over there for a while anyway. I've got time. Just take yours." 

 

Silence passed between us, the waiter took our orders and then we sat back, easier, quiet, drinking ice tea.  

 

"Tell me something about you," I said, wanting to get my mind for a moment off the fatality.

 

"Something about me?" she said quietly. "Well, I work at that big office building down there." She pointed out the window. I followed her pointing hand with my gaze.

 

Suddenly I laughed and smiled. It felt good to smile. 

 

"I know that. Tell me something else."

 

"What do you want to know" she asked, maybe a little bit confused by my question.

 

"Anything," I encouraged. "Anything at all."

 

"Well," she twisted a napkin in her hands, her mouth grew thoughtful, I like spaghetti with Italian hot sausage."

 

"Okay, that's a good one. Me, too. We should have gone for spaghetti."

 

"Come to my house some time," she invited, "I'll make some." She saw my face and said. "I have parties on new years Day and I'll invite you to my next one."

 

The meal passed in silence. Somehow for now I was comfortable sitting with her just enjoying sweet and Sauer sauce, spicy mustard, the crunch of egg rolls. I don't' know if it was the food or Judy who was more comforting. Even the beef with the vegetables on top was good.  

 

Judy sat back in her chair, her green eyes taking in all the surroundings. I sat back, trying to relax.

 

"thanks for the ride, today." Judy pushed her plate back. "All your passengers need rides to work today."

 

"I saw some of them heading for the parking lot," I said. "Some were car pooling."

 

"And me?"

 

"You were just there," I said, now getting more awkward. "You're getting to be one of my friends."

 

She looked at me and smiled into my eyes. "And you're a nice guy. I'm very grateful. It's a good thing I came early. I came there for lunch. I was all caught up at home and the cats threw me out."

 

"You have cats?"

 

"Two girl cats, Sandy and sparkles."

 

"Animals get like that. They can be possessive."

 

"You have animals?"

 

"yes. Vincent and Magnet. Funny names, but perfect for them.  They're collies." 

 

"then you know what it's like to be thrown out of the house," she said. "You know."

 

"I do know." I curled up within myself and then said what I was thinking. "Judy, I'm glad your cats threw you out of the house."

 

"Okay," she said. She reached forward and put her hand lightly on my fingers. I didn't move my hand. She looked at her smart, gold watch. Then she looked

down at her plate.

 

"Well," she said. "I've got time to finish this chicken. We should go in about twenty minutes."

 

I signaled the waiter for the check. This might have been our first argument. The waiter, a short, stocky man with the white shirt of his starched uniform tucked neatly in and his apron spotlessly clean brought the check on a silver tray. We both reached for it at the same time, our hands both meeting on the tray, neither of us willing to let go. 

 

"I've got it," she said, her voice carrying a hint of something I remembered from childhood, my mother's authority, stating she had the last word. "It's the least I can do and well," she smiled, and I conceded, put in my place, "you've had a bad enough day already." She saw a tear in my eye. "I'm sorry I didn't' mean it like that, just let me do it, Glen. I promise," she smiled at me, I felt something in my heart melting, if only just a little, "you can pay next time." She knew and I suppose so did I that there would be a next time.

Shelley J. Alongi 
Home Office: (714)869-3207
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updated September 13, 2009