[stylist] Flirting with MOnday chapter 6

[Shelley J. Alongi]

This chapter is the end of the flash backs. It shows more of Glen's character and sets up the rest of the story. 

Chapter 6 

 

The quiet, older man who lived across my back fence must have thought I had lost my mind the next weekend. Usually the house was silent, there wasn't much that went on in the yard there due to my work hours. I was surprised he didn't come out to see what all the hammering and banging was about. He wasn't a busy body, in the past we had talked sometimes, exchanging greetings and waving as we passed each other in the morning. As I recall Mr. Delgado was a morning person, he was always out working on his rose bushes. I was always out in the morning but not working on rose bushes. Today I was outside early, putting together a set of patio furniture. Emotionally I was feeling stronger. The last two weeks, talking to Dr. meadows and finally telling Judy about Allison may had freed up some energy for other things, or perhaps it was working on this project that was making me feel better. Working with my hands has always relaxed me, whether it is in the kitchen or outside. I just generally never had time for both my job and my projects. But today I was taking the time because Judy was coming over at noon and we were going to barbecue. I had scrubbed that thing down, too and had dropped by the store on the way home to get a bag of charcoal. The neighborhood was quiet, the weather was perfect, balmy, gently breezy, rejuvenating, refreshing, invigorating. I even whistled a tuneless tune here and there, I wasn't much of a singer. I let the train do all the whistling in my life, I let the rails sing me into a quiet state, and when I was at home, I let the hammer and nails and cutting and chopping quietly relax me and infuse me with what I needed to get through the next part of my life. The combination of the two always seemed to work. So confident was I in my new found love and strength that I had invited a few people from work over to join us. They were people I considered friends. They said they would bring things to add to our barbecue. I couldn't hog Judy all to myself, I didn't need to. Her eyes told me she was mine. I didn't need to have all her time and attention. Judy said she would bring some colleagues from work if I didn't mind. Mind? I hardly minded. Judy Flower had pulled me out of my rut and had made me interact with life; it was like being free from some crime that I had never committed. Dr. Meadows helped me see that if Elizabeth had left me and had never attempted to contact me that I wasn't fully to blame for the separation. If I had tried to contact her and there was no response, I was free of obligation to her. I don't' know why I didn't see things that way. Maybe I was just to rapped up in my own sense of failed responsibility to see it his way. But I was starting to see it differently now and it was because Judy Flower, not through any type of manipulation or backhanded efforts on her own, was opening my eyes, I was like a nurtured plant in her hands. My life had been hectic and happy, but this added an element that I was now ready to accept. She told me I had something to look forward to. 

 

"You know I make the best spaghetti and hot Italian sausage," she said. "I'm going to bring it to the barbecue."

 

"To a barbecue?" I said. I smiled now, thinking of this. Then I nodded to myself knowing that the guys I had invited to the little get together to celebrate my freedom from my own ghosts would probably be appreciative of spaghetti and hot Italian sausage. Heck, they'd be appreciative of anything that they didn't have to cook. I was the strange one, I was the one who liked to cook on weekends. They were the sports type, I watched a game here and there, but I didn't really go for the beer and football over indulgent weekends. 

 

Now, I put the last cap on the final leg of the glass table I had spent the morning building from the kit in the box. I stood back and admired my work. It was always rewarding to have something tangible in my hands, something that said, hey I did this thing. This is good. I was happy. I started working on the chairs. The time passed pleasantly enough, Magnet and Angel wrestled in their enclosure. Vincent sat on the patio watching me, as if he approved of my activity. Soon it would be time to enter the kitchen and prepare the burgers. I was going to make them from ground meat today, none of this pre frozen meat for me. I wanted to get my hands in the mixture, knead it, rub in the seasoning, feel the grease between my fingers, poor my heart and soul into something as simple as a hamburger patty with lettuce cheese and tomatoes. I grimaced at the thought of the tomatoes. Let Judy have the tomatoes. I'd take the lettuce and cheese. I'm sure Scott, Andy, John, Mike, and Anthony would supply the beer and the sodas, and eat all the tomatoes. They could have them all. I was all about the meat today. I had bought a few steaks to throw on the barbecue and they had been marinating since last night. It was going to be a beautiful day. I needed one. 

Preparing for the barbecue made me remember not long after the train hit the pedestrian, Judy did invite me to one of her New Year's parties. I was still scared as hell then. Even if I wanted to get to know Judy better, I wasn't sure I wanted things to change very fast. I remembered going home that night after we had dinner at the Chinese restaurant and sometimes being overcome by tears, seeing that man in front of me knowing I was going to hit and kill him. I spent some restless nights seeing those images. It made me nauseous for days after the accident even thinking of it, then suddenly I'd be calmed by remembering Judy telling me to relax in the restaurant, her eyes communicating her sympathy to me. I had held onto it. "Relax, Glen" she had said and Judy always had a calming way about her. Somehow when I saw her eyes and remembered her cool words I slept better and my anguished eased. Even with all this and the trust that was slowly building between us, I was still reluctant to proceed very quickly.  I remembered that when I first met Elizabeth I was charmed by her too. 

 

Elizabeth met me on a riding path when I took Scarlet out for a walk.

 

"Nice little mare." 

 

A red-haired girl wearing glasses sat on a black colt. 

 

"Thanks," I responded to her compliment. We went on our way but when the riding trail ended and the little mayor clopped back to the dirt field where the stable was, I saw Elizabeth again, brushing out her horse. 

 

"Nice day for a ride," she said. 

 

I nodded. That first conversation had been casual enough, but then I saw her again and again and as things happen, we soon were meeting each week to ride our horses together. The start of that relationship had been innocent enough and we knew what happened after that. I ended up with a daughter, Elizabeth took her and moved to some town that I never learned the name of, and so I was still a little wary when it came to Judy. Maybe she would go away, too. She was nice enough, waving to me and holding my hand and practically letting me cry on her shoulder that day. Maybe I was the weak one, I always fell for kindness. Maybe it was my own tendency to be kind to others, or maybe I just didn't have any sense. Whatever the reason was, I found myself sitting across from Judy at the railroad café on a Wednesday, several months later after having driven her train so many days to work and seeing her run to keep from being late. Sometimes I saw her barely get on the train, she always sat in the first car, the one behind me. I couldn't see her once she disappeared past me but I knew she was there and there was something comforting if frightening about it. I always just sat up there looking at my screen and communicating with the conductor. Arriving at the next station I'd see her exiting but she wouldn't look at me. She had to go and we were on a tight schedule. So it was the mornings when I actually talked to Judy, or the afternoons when she seemed to appear out of nowhere. Judy told me that she took different trains because sometimes her hours shifted at work. She didn't always take my train but when she did I saw her. So that morning when I saw her sitting at the railroad café I decided to approach her, even if it was still with my heart in my mouth. I came up to her table and jingled my keys.

 

"Hey."

 

"Glen!" 

 

Judy had the most beautiful smile. It could melt even my sometimes icy heart. Her smile always made me smile. I think the first thing I loved about Judy Flower was her smile. 

 

"Good morning," I said.

 

Judy pointed to the seat across from her. The table was cluttered with her coffee cup, her plate, small red bag and her cell phone.

 

"I'm interrupting," I protested.

 

"hardly. Sit down." She waved me to the seat. "I'm just checking my accounts with the phone. No one would call me this early in the morning. They better not." 

 

"Okay," I said, joining her. I had ordered coffee and now I set the cup down in front of me.

 

"No breakfast?" she questioned.

 

"I don't eat breakfast at Union Station. It's too early in the morning to think of food. I'll eat on my break." 

 

"I see." 

 

We were quiet. It felt nice sitting with her, even if my heart was pounding. I tried to relax, breathing in deeply and fighting the urge to run from her. I was the one who had joined her at the table. I tried to be my cheerful self. 

 

"Haven't seen you in a while."

 

Then she told me about how she took different trains to work.

 

"And you don't work all those hours," she said. "That would be a long day."

 

"Probably I'm sleeping," I told her, "or running errands."

 

"Well I'm on your train today," she said, finishing up her coffee and putting her cell phone away. She sat back and looked at me, my high forehead and my blue eyes, she saw my cleft chin, her eyes rested on my badge.

 

"Takes a lot of work to be an engineer," she said, inspecting my cup. My hand lay on the cup, my fingers curled around its edge I was about to lift it to my mouth. 

 

"Yes." 

 

"I've known you A year and four months," she said. She smiled again. "I saw you waving last June and then July of this year was when the train hit that man and then we went to dinner and now it's November."

 

"And I owe you dinner," I said shyly. 

 

What?" Her face darkened a little. 

 

"You treated me to dinner that day, remember?"

 

"Ooh, I remember," she said quietly. "I won that argument."

"Hmm," I said. "You said I could pay next time."

"Well," she chuckled, "you came too late, Mr. Train Engineer." Her smile was priceless. 

"No I didn't," I said, suddenly courageous, it was as if her smile had infused me with confidence. I put my hand out and touched her fingers. I was still scared as hell, but I was going to do this thing, at least till the next warning light halted me in my tracks.

 

"what about this Saturday," I said, plunging off the cliff into the unknown. 

Judy's face fell. My heart dropped. Damn it I knew I shouldn't have asked her.

"Glen," she said gently. "You are the sweetest person I've ever met. Saturday is the day I volunteer with the Girl Scout troop and we're going hiking. We won't get back till late."

"I see." 

Judy put out a lifeline.

"What about you coming to my New Year's party. Remember I told you I make the best spaghetti. I told you I'd invite you." 

I thought about my schedule and my plans for New Years. I didn't have any plans for New Years.  

"I'll think about it," I said, frowning. "I don't' know."

 

"Hey," she said quietly. "DO you really want to see me before then?"

 

I nodded shyly. It was a good thing we had to go soon.

"How about if we meet on Friday after your last run. Eight o'clock is it?"

"Nine," I corrected.

"Okay, nine," she said. "I work late that day and I'm going to be hungry. You're probably going to be tired. But you look so much like you want to do this."

I shook my head.

"next Saturday would be better," I said. "Friday night would be a little too late for me I won't be good company." 

"Alright," she said. "Next Saturday. And I promise," she winked, "you pay."

She got up and I followed her. She came up close to me and I touched her shoulder. 

"Have a good day Mr. Train Engineer," she said quietly. "I'll be behind you and I'll see you next Saturday." 

 

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