[stylist] Flirting with MOnday chapter 6

[Shelley J. Alongi]

If you think that description was making you hungry wait till the 
description in chapter 20.
Shelley J. Alongi
Home Office: (714)869-3207
**
NFBWD "Slate and Style" editor
http://www.nfb-writers-division.org

**
To read essays on my journey through the Chatsworth train accident, 
Metrolink 111 or other interests click on 
http://www.storymania.com/cgibin/sm2/smshowauthorbox.cgi?page=&author=AlongiSJ&alpha=A

updated September 13, 2009
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Barbara Hammel" <poetlori8 at msn.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, September 21, 2009 7:52 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Flirting with MOnday chapter 6


Oh and the description of the meat to grill made me so hungry.
Barbara

If wisdom's ways you wisely seek, five things observe with care:  of whom
you speak, to whom you speak, and how and when and where.

--------------------------------------------------
From: "Shelley J. Alongi" <qobells at roadrunner.com>
Sent: Monday, September 21, 2009 2:22 AM
To: "NFBnet Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] Flirting with MOnday chapter 6

> 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
> **
> NFBWD "Slate and Style" editor
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
>
> **
> To read essays on my journey through the Chatsworth train accident, 
> Metrolink 111 or other interests click on 
> http://www.storymania.com/cgibin/sm2/smshowauthorbox.cgi?page=&author=AlongiSJ&alpha=A
>
> updated September 13, 2009
> _______________________________________________
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